College Classics

Precognitive critique of the pedophile priest phenomenon.

Possibly the weirdest gang of goons ever, on the crime spree of the century.

Before McCann & I started going bald... Marcus weeping joyously.

It was like an addiction, this twisting of intended signage.

We got busted at Burger King, so we had to take our party to the south side of town.

Wittmer about to breakdance into heaven with the power of the Byzantine halo.

We miss you Hastings, the Entertainment Super Store! Satanic salute, ya pricks.

Feeling regret now... missed an easy shot at "Batman vs. Grover"

Never did hear from Frew about this... would be funny if he went to Jiffy Lube and they gave him shit.
Matt Wittmer as Hall & Oats Driving Miss Daisy Wagonmaster. Chad Woody as Young Dahmer. Mortal Kombat's Rayden played by Marcus Howell.

Sorry, Wendy.
It was only a matter of time, of course.

This Tiny Painting Found Acceptable

...so it will appear in the "Childhood in its Landscape" show next month at Good Girl Art Gallery, opening First Friday in April. If you go just to pilfer free foody treats, pause to absorb some artwork, and wipe the crumbs off your face--Have some dignity, man!

I made a new toy

Christ, Morita, Just Say NO

Just watched the last half of a good candidate for Worst Movie Ever. "The Next Karate Kid," with a toothy young Hilary Swank doing a lot of crotchy walking and hambone squirrely acting. I mean, it's exactly the sort of movie one wants and expects out of the CW on a Sunday afternoon, so I can only express my gratitude for the following lessons:

As a rule, the greatest wisdom comes instantly, after no experience, no suffering, and only minimal contact with Pat Morita.

The more of an old Asian man you are, the more you radiate unearthly peace and power.

If you rub your hands together, you can heal any wound with the warmth generated.

As far as I could tell, the movie was written by a committee of 4th graders who were asked to raise their hands whenever they thought of a heartwarming cliche or a scary high-school threat.

Highlights include:

Swank gets in trouble for killing a roach in the monastery, thus pissing on all life's sacredness. later, she finds a praying mantis in a field and all is forgiven. As bonus wisdom, Pat Morita tells her that mantises touch one knee to the ground before striking, so she tries it and explodes with radical new power. She can now kick while jumping in slow motion... and with great wisdom.

Monks swing burlap sacks of grain to hit a teen girl unawares: on the third try, Morita tells her to focus, and she attains a sort of sixth sense for unseen attacks.

Pat Morita and the other "Karate Monks" drive to a bowling alley in a VW bus and end up beating the pants off a cocky bowling team whose captain wagers a dollar per point and makes fun of the monks. Using unorthodox bowling styles, the monks reap many strikes. The other guys, who are serious enough about bowling to have their own shirts, bowl terribly and end up having to pay like 300 dollars to the monks, who accept the money with great wisdom. How did they do it? "Bowling zen."

Swank and her boyfriend go to a high-school dance after Pat Morita buys her a perfect-fitting dress even though there's no way he would know her size. He also tricks her into learning to dance by showing her karate moves that emulate a waltz. She is very pleased to find that she is now a natural at romantic dancing.

In the middle of the dance, paramilitary teens careen down from the ceiling on cables and smash the decorations, apparently just to show Swank's boyfriend that he mustn't have any fun and he'll never know peace until they grow tired of challenging him in public. They walk off with great lack of wisdom.

A mean paramilitary teen throws sand in Swanky's eyes during their fight. The tide turns against her, until Morita says FOCUS, and she regains her sixth sense by putting her hands together, thus sensing the impending kick. She swats her opponent away with great wisdom.

A near-slow-mo fight finale between Pat Morita and Michael Ironside that proves 1) good triumphs over evil no matter how old, 2) no one involved in the production knows any martial arts, 3) freak-out paramilitary teens who just torched your car and gang-beat your boyfriend will see the error of their ways when a small Asian man defeats their mentor in mild combat, and 4) the best way to end a fight is with humorous mercy--in this case, blowing lightly in the face of Michael Ironside instead of gouging his eyes out.

Unlike other Hilary Swank movies, we luckily never see her bush.

Kid Art

Here are some nice items I found in parking lots. I'm still not sure what to make of them, but I do think they make some interesting claims. For starters, it comes as no surprise that Skwor Peein is BAD, but who would have thought Fantastik Bone Eyes is GOOD?

Even better, George Washington, our #1 Founding Father, now seems embroiled in some sort of foreign entanglement. Also, he may be a panda-abusing duck in possession of 500 packets of soy/duck/mustard sauce. Or perhaps the duck is a patriot invoking the spirit of Washington as a battle cry against Chinese financial ascendancy.

We need to get some wind-talkers in here to crack these kiddie-codes, pronto.

Remember the Halls of Medicine?

Those were my last words before the Predator killed me. I was like, "Hey Predator, you could have just knocked--that door's gonna be pretty hard to fix... check out the cold, this kleenex is all damp but I'm still usin' it. My wife went to get some food, and I told her to just get me whatever's cheap because I can't taste it anyway. Hey, remember those commercials for the Halls of Medicine?" That was when he decided to put me out of muy misery. I meant to say "my misery," but "muy misery" is better Spanish. I'm well on my way to seducing Penelope Cruz.

*Remember, add some flair to your blog with a little casual, down-home copyright infringement.

When Your Neighbors Are Awesome

You know it's a great day for yardwork when this guy fires up his rig and gets busy. A master of efficiency, he is often seen pulling the wagon loaded with:

—one jug of gasoline
—one bored teenager, fed up with walking
—a bushel of twigs
—an empty dog food bag weighed down with a rock
—a shovel

Today he went up the sidewalk hauling about a dozen coat hangers in a cardboard box. I don't know where he went, but he came back ten minutes later hauling this boy. Some strollers had to get off the sidewalk so he could pass.

I've heard that Amtrak trains can move a ton of freight over 400 miles on a gallon of fuel. This guy, I believe, is running his own tests, pushing the fuel-to-work efficiency ratio. Sky's the limit, old son.

4th Grade Fortunes

It was READ ACROSS AMERICA week, and kiddos everywhere were riding the literary turbo boost. I was deployed to Stacy Gray's fourth grade class in Willard Orchard Hills Elementary School with a funny arsenal of Shel Silverstein poems and more. Little did I know it was PJ Day, and everyone was wearing bedclothes but me. I read some rockin' materials and then was encouraged to draw cartoons on the board. I drew Red Rogue, with a wristwatch and a newspaper. Their minds were getting blown. They wanted more and more cartoons. I drew an octopus wearing a spy hat. I drew Batman. I declined to draw Garfield. Then they gave me a shockingly loud and complex Tiger cheer that seemed to shake the building, along with a snack and a small bottle of water.

Here is a story I wrote and read to them:

The Dog Who Bit the Vacuum

This dog was sleeping when vacuuming started happening, like a tornado in his ears. He was under the sofa, so he thought he was safe and tried to get back to sleep. Then he remembered his favorite chew toy and peeked out just in time to see the vacuum suck it up! This fried his brain. He got so mad he just ran right at the vacuum and bit it on the mouth, which sucked up his tongue and stretched it all the way into the bag of dirt, which tasted dry and hairy. The vacuuming lady turned the vacuum off and helped him pull his tongue out. She laughed and laughed. They got a yardstick and measured: the dog’s tongue was now 32 inches long and looked like raw bacon with fuzzy lint stuck to the end. The dog realized he would really enjoy the maximum tasting opportunities that go with having a 32-inch tongue. He turned around to run outside and tripped on it, tasting all four of his feet (they tasted like stale crackers). Outside, he dragged his tongue all over. The sidewalk tasted like chalk and basketballs. The grass tasted like grass and shoes. His tongue caught on a bush and stretched like taffy as he crossed the street. The street tasted too hot and started to burn, so he took off running, but a car parked on his tongue and the tires tasted like burned rubber. Now his tongue stretched about 17 feet and was like pink spaghetti. A cat ran out and he had to chase it. Now his tongue is pretty much all over the neighborhood. You walked over it just the other day—that dog thought you tasted a little like chicken.

Here's one I didn't read because it was too controversial:

The Clam Who Stole the Monkey’s Body

Once there was a monkey stealthily eating clams that were sleeping on the beach. One of the clams woke up when the monkey broke a tooth on a hard clam shell and began to cry. “Poor monkey,” said the clam, “if you need stronger jaws, just pull off your head and put me on instead—I will bite open the shells for you and then you can eat the meat.” The greedy monkey could see only the profit involved and went ahead with popping his own head off and placing the clam on his shoulders. As soon as this was done, the clam was in control of the monkey’s arms. He grabbed the monkey’s head and flung it out to sea. He cursed his clam brothers for their lack of initiative and ran inland, where he developed an unbelievable appetite for corn on the cob.

I also gave the kids fortune-cookie fortunes without the cookies, such as:

If you drink too much coffee, you will get jittery and your eyes will go crazy.

Never eat your dinner while walking up the stairs.

Your school bus will pop a wheelie after you get off and you’ll totally miss out.

A raccoon will get into your refrigerator and eat all your puddings.

A banana peel will send you sliding all the way to the principal’s office. The principal will ask, “Did you eat my banana?”

One fortune that I cut from the list was, "Get ready for a smell so bad it makes you fall down." I didn't want to be accused later of threatening the school with a poison gas attack.