Archive for February, 2007

Friday, February 23rd, 2007

Dear Guest,

Welcome to Taillingston, Wyoming! Your comfort is our number one priority. We strive to create a safe, clean, fun, astronaut-free travel experience for you and your family. We proudly offer a wide range of activities and amenities in our facility, including an indoor pool, jacuzzi, vending machines, and ice. Alfâ„¢ Towels are also available upon request for children under the age of 16 upon completion of the “Astronaut Oath”. Parents! Drop the kids off at the “Fun-ducation Center” while you retire to the billiards room for cocktails and billiards on one of our two billiard tables. The whole family is invited every night at 7:00pm, as our Astronaut Awareness Team presents a short skit, followed by a Q&A session. We also provide fine dining upon request, or room service for those staying in rooms equipped with a food-table.

Please remember: The Fun4All-Inn is an astronaut-free facility, and maintains a NO-TOLERANCE policy toward astronauts. We ask that you help us identify and apprehend any potential astronauts on our premises. If you believe you have seen an astronaut anywhere on our grounds, please report it at once to hotel staff by dialing 321* on any hotel phone. Our astronaut task-force will work swiftly to investigate all situations, taking proper measures in the event of an astronaut.

Be aware that you may unknowingly be traveling with an astronaut or astronauts. If you suspect that ANY in your travel party are potentially astronauts, we urge you to report them IMMEDIATELY. Failure to report astronauts will result in immediate ejection from our premises and possible legal action. If you are found to be knowingly associating with an astronaut on our grounds, you will be removed from the premises and may face imprisionment and/or fines of up to $10, 000.

We hope you enjoy your astronaut-free visit! Remember: it is up to us to keep the Fun4All-Inn, and God’s America, ASTRONAUT FREE. Together, we can do it!

Funderfully yours,

The Fun4All-Inn, Taillingston, WY Team

~n

Average Rating: 4.5 out of 5 based on 174 user reviews.

Wednesday, February 21st, 2007

Announcer: Time to guess what time it is my tiny time-traveling tots!!! It’s time for ‘TimeTravel Time with Time-Traveling Dr. TimeTravel-Tim!’

Children: !!!!!!YEAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!

Announcer: Time to ask Time-Traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim what time we’re time-traveling to this time!

Dr. T: “Well kids! This time we’re time-traveling to one of my all-time favorite times to time travel to! We’re time-traveling too a time where sometimes some time travelers think some types of time travel are too tough to time, but not THIS time!! This time it’s ‘TimeTravel Time with time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim!’ And Dr. TimeTravel Tim travels to times where timid time travelers sometimes miss-time travel times, but this time our time travel timing will be timed to time travel to the time we intend to time travel to!

Phuh! To tell time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim not to time travel to his all time favorite time to time travel to on ‘TimeTravel Time with time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim’ is a travesty!!! This time, time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim, who is time-traveling to all types of times all the time, each time time-traveling with his own time travel timings perfectly timed, will travel to his all time favorite time to time travel to!!!”

[Time-traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim enters his time-traveling Time Machine, thoroughly miss-times his time-travel timing, and time travels to the wrong time. This will be the last episode of TimeTravel Time with Time-Traveling Dr. TimeTravel Tim.]

~n

Average Rating: 4.7 out of 5 based on 265 user reviews.

Sunday, February 18th, 2007

Guy & Thurgood’s Speedy Hobo Removal
February 15, 2007

Dear Valued Customer,

We performed a Delux Hobo Eradication at your residence on January 27, 2007. Since that time, it has come to our attention that one of the products used while servicing your residence, the newly-developed aerosol-hobocide XHOB-B, has been identified as potentially dangerous by the Attorney General following the class-action lawsuit of Flessy Vs. Murdkill Chemical Co.

In the wake of these events, we are required to contact all owners of residences we treated with XHOB-B in the last five months since the chemical’s introduction to disclose certain potential dangers related to the use of this substance.

XHOB-B is the active agent in the highly-effective hobo-control product “Huckleson&Company’s Jolly-Hobo Hotel.” This product consists of a plastic dome with entranceways leading to a central chamber, wherein a bottle of Pinesol and a plate of tangy buffalo-wings reside as bait. When the hobo enters this chamber, motion sensors trigger the release of XHOB-B, which violently liquifies the peripheral nervous systems inside the doomed hobo, rendering it immobile. Over the course of several days, nano-engineered viruses inside XHOB-B’s “Funocules” reassemble the conscious but debilitate hobo’s musculature into trillions of starving crawfish, which devour the remaining hobo-material internally, hence our “no-residual hobo-remains guarantee.”

Unfortunately, while economical and effective, this process may have unexpected side effects. While XHOB-B was engineered to work on hobos alone, it has been suggested that the substance may also be threatening to humans, potentially causing similar and/or identical effects to those observed in hobos. The National Hobo Control Union is following up on these claims. In the meantime, there are some precautions you may wish to take while on any of the estimated 35 million locations that have been treated with XHOB-B over the past 5 months, your residence included (our bad!).

It has been found that XHOB-B can remain onsite suspended in the air with a dissipation a rate of 3-nanograms/L/yr @STP. Since most sites treated with XHOB-B were treated with .5-10 kg of the substance, it may take several hundreds of thousands of years for sites to become decontaminated through natural dissipation. If you feel you cannot wait this long, and must visit a potentially contaminated site, your own residence included (our bad!), it is suggested that you wear a breathing apparatus and take precautions to prevent physical contact with any gases present in the air. The effects of this substance on children and elderly persons is unknown, but it is the position of the National Hobo Control Union that they’re probably fine. Domesticated/non-domesticated animals seem to be at the greatest risk, but it is highly recommended that they not be told of the situation.

Again, we apologize for this unfortunate situation. We will keep you updated on details as they become available to us upon your request. We would like to urge you not to “get all pissy” or “go all crazy on us” as we are trying our best to get on with our lives and put this whole mess behind us.

If you require further information on relocation possibilities, please follow the below link:
http://www.google.com
and type “Rentals” + where you’d like to live next, into the space provided.

Thanks for being such a trooper!

Sincerely,

Bob Guy and Gunter Thurgood
Guy & Thurgood’s Speedy Hobo Removal

Attention Homeowners!: Mention this court-ordered liability disclosure and receive %10 off our next visit! (Not valid in combination with other court-orderd liability disclosure discounts.)

~n

Average Rating: 4.7 out of 5 based on 226 user reviews.

Friday, February 16th, 2007

“Captain Sunshine’s Smile-Time Rainbow-Hour” was among the top-rated children’s programs for nearly a decade, and an entire generation of children delighted to the sunday-morning antics of Captain Sunshine and his ever-dancing “Rainbow Gang.” However, behind the smiles, the laughter, and the drugs… was a seedy underbelly of syndicated crime, moral depravity, and drugs.

What few realize, even to this day, is that Dewdrop, Twinkle-Bootys, Angel-O-Death and Teddy, the so-called “rainbow gang, ” were in fact actual gang members of the ruthless SoCo Stabtackle-Squad. Watching the old reruns with this in mind, the gang undertones become obvious. “The Smile Sign, ” the hand gesture used to greet friends in the series appears to be identical to the ‘flashing’ of a known west-coast gang sign. Additionally, cast members frequently made strange references in Ebonics to respect, allegiances and ‘promiscuous women’. Even more conspicuous, it is now obvious that the “Smile-Time Pistol” was an actual colt .45, and the “Rainbow-Gang Jolly-Jump-In”, where new members were ruthlessly beaten prior to entry into the “Funderful Smile Society, ” were actual gang initiations. Several episodes featured visits from “HateBone da Bag-Man, ” the show’s resident mail-man, who routinely delivered cocaine, pcp and angel dust. Even Smiley-Time Fortress was later determined to be located in an abandoned warehouse in the condemned St. Walburton shipyard 15 miles south of central LA.

Despite these subtle warning signs, the show remained enormously popular with children, and their parents happily shelled-out an estimated sixty-million dollars a year on Capt. Sunshine merchandising. Clothing, toys, videos, lunchboxes and 40oz Malt Liquor. Parents took their children to stand in line for hours in hopes of getting them on the show. Auditions were held regularly in parking garages all over Lower Los Angeles. Children were selected for the show based on their ability to blend in with a crowd, their ability to travel long distances wearing back-packs weighted with sandbags, and their ability to keep their cool when confronted with casting directors dressed as inquisitive police officers.

Few parents realized then the danger they were subjecting their children to. Most children who were cast ended up as coke-mules, and many met tragic deaths in the service of Capt. Sunshine. Hindsight is 20/20, of course. Today it is easy to recognize the show as unapologetic, televised gang-activity. Watching now, one realizes that there are no sets, no costumes, no story-lines, and no scripted dialog or music. In fact, if one watches very carefully these days, they will notice that nobody on the show actually mentions the words “Sunshine, ” “Rainbow, ” or even “Smile” in any of the 105 episodes that aired between 1982 and 1991. Looking back now, it’s hard to imagine just what the f*** people were thinking.

“I think we all just wanted to believe.” Rev. Timothy Cracken told SLAG magazine in 1995. “I think that deep down, all of us just wants to believe in a place where smiles are currency, and rainbows light our path to happiness.”

~n

Average Rating: 4.5 out of 5 based on 196 user reviews.

Monday, February 12th, 2007

General Tesnic surveyed his war-weary troops.

“LISTEN UP, MEN!” He shouted.
“This is it! We’re going toe to toe with those RED BASTARDS! President Kanting has ordered this strike, one which will be seared into history as the most IMPORTANT MOMENT of ALL TIME!!! You have the support of your people, you REPRESENT them ALL! OUR way of life! Are we going to lie down and let those RED BASTARDS beat US? NO F***ING CHANCE!!!”

The army platoon erupted in roaring confirmation of their absolute commitment to victory.

“This is the fate of the world we’re talking about here, men! The FATE of THE WORLD!!!”

Indeed it was. Nobody in the platoon argued with that statement. With all the incredible events of the past days, most of them were sure they were teetering on the brink of the long prophesized “End of Days.” The end of all time. All over the land, priests stood at pulpits and confirmed the necessity of this feeling to a hysterical populace. War was upon the earth. Total War. The “Final battle for Good against Evil” was how it was portrayed by all, on both sides.

In the “Red” camps, the same rhetoric resounded, albeit in a different language. They too were planning their offensive. They too were sure this was the beginning of Armageddon.

“THE END OF THE WORLD”

The two armies amassed on the battlefield. Every one of them knew this was the last battle history would EVER record. Their two armies were the most powerful forces ever before seen in their long, war-torn history. Then, the two opponents struck out at each other simultaneously.

Armageddon, the End of the World, had begun.

High in a tree, a bird sang out.
A baby doe made its way through the tall grass.

It did not notice the swirling excitement of the red and black ant colonies ferociously battling for the remains of a dead grasshopper below.

~n

Average Rating: 4.4 out of 5 based on 193 user reviews.

Saturday, February 10th, 2007

My guest today is Hillary Chuckleton, who has been heading the Institute for the Decidedly Not-Funny (or “IDNF” as it is most commonly referred to), for the past five decades. The science of what is, and what is decidedly-not funny has a rich history full of colorful characters who helped advance this obscure but important science. The following is an excerpt from an interview I had with Ms. Chuckleton in the winter of ‘Ot-six, as we toured a portion of the institute, which is situated on 1, 500 forested acres in Hobbcleff, VT.
(The names are abbreviated M, form “me”, and G, for “Hillary”)

M: Thank you for speaking with me, Hill, I can call you “Hill, ” can’t I?
G: I think that’d be just dandy. Many of my associates call me many things. “Hill” is certainly a new one, but it doesn’t bother me.

M: Great. So, Hill… this is quite a remarkable institution! Most people only hear about the IDNF when something tragic happens, but obviously there is much more to the IDNF than that. What can you tell us about the daily activities of this institution? What does your institution actually DO?
G: Well, that’s quite a broad question, a lot goes on here as you can see. However, much of our activities involve research. Every time a new product is released, for example, our institute has to test it for its HQ, or “Hilarity Quotient.” This is not as easy as it seems. Many things that are apparently not-funny can become funny in different contexts.

M: Can you think of an example?
G: Well, for example… take a pencil. Pencils aren’t terribly funny objects, right? But jam one in a ninja’s eye or give one to a monster and, well… you see my point. And objects are just one aspect of our research. Ideally, we are trying to analyze every object, location, event, situation, idea… everything… until we end up with a finalized list of those things which are decidedly not funny. We think this knowledge benefits all humanity.

M: That’s an incredible undertaking! How long has this institution been at it?
G: Well, the institution was established in 1874 by Lord Pompermeyer Fannigus Gillbert IV in London. He had a long standing disagreement with his bitter rival, Sir Norrius Tobbleton Scott of Wankchester, over whether or not blasphemy was funny. This was a widely publicized argument, and many of the leading scholars and theologians became heatedly engaged in the debate. When Lord Pompermeyer lost the argument, he was enraged, and disbanded the institute, which fled to safety in the new world, where it has been ever since.

M: Well… what happened with the argument??? Is blasphemy funny or not?
G: Yeah. It’s pretty funny.

M: Well… I’m sure my readers would love to know: How exactly do you test to see whether something is “decidedly not-funny”?
G: Well, we mostly use “the PLOP, ” or the “Progressive Laughing-Omission Protocol” for our tests. Basically, we draw a picture of the object, situation, idea etc. to be tested. Then we look at it. If we don’t laugh, we show it to children. If they don’t laugh, we show it to stoned teenagers. Finally, if the stoned teenagers don’t think it’s funny, we show it to stoned children. Most things can be found to be at least partially funny in this way. Cucumbers, for example, always pass as not funny down to the stoned teenagers, and then they’re instantly hilarious. Gets em’ everytime.

M: So if it makes it passed the stoned children it’s not funny?
G: No…no…no… That’s preliminary. The same method is employed again, using contextual combinations. Lets say a plane crash is being tested. This will usually make it past the preliminaries. We then include accessory knowledge to the context. For example, with the contextual knowledge that humans are primates, it is easy to interpret the incident as one involving “a jet-propelled, winged-metal-tube of monkeys plummeting from the stratosphere, the tube-confined primates all the while muttering in symbolic-monkey-speak to a monkey-shaped deity.” That is decidedly funny.

M: How many things have been tested so far?
G: Many hundreds of millions.

M: How many things have been found to be decidedly not-funny?
G: Well…… including all the ones discovered prior to our records becoming digital…..none so far… there have been many dozens of false negatives, though. Many times something will be maintained as not-funny for decades before a new interpretation or physical context reveals its funnitude. Presently, nothing holds the Decidedly Not-Funny (DNF) designation.

M: Not one?
G: So far, no. But we are still looking.

M: That’s hard to believe! There are many things which jump to mind as terribly not-funny. Mass-murder, viral epidemics, nuclear warfare, drowning bunnies… you can’t tell me these things are funny!?
G: That’s the remarkable thing. The universe is tragically hilarious, and all “things” are completely temporary, in any sense we’d recognize. We repeatedly encounter the same problem: Taken to a deep enough context, it’s hard to draw distinct lines between any-thing, so that if any-thing is funny, Everything is funny. The physics of it are as seemingly complex as they are elegant, but that’s what we do here.

M: Then why do you bother calling this place The Institute for the Decidedly NOT-Funny???
G: Because we think it’s funny.

~n

Average Rating: 4.8 out of 5 based on 180 user reviews.

Thursday, February 8th, 2007

I think it would be fun, wait, amusing, to turn things over to my good chum from “across the pond, ” Professor Vladimere Crumbsky for a while. Vladimere has developed a marvelous contraption known to the world as the VC-H2B. This contraption, once strapped to the head, can probe deep within your mind using nothing more than microwave radiation and long, surgical needles. While uncomfortable and sometimes terrifying, the machine is extraordinarily useful when you need to be instructed on the steeps of a simple process.
Vladimere Writes:

Hellosky.

If using my robot is what we are doing, then together it will be glorious! I extend thanks to lofty distances for the chances to be on the digital writing box with you all today and beyond. First, let me warn you that my machine is danger. But it also is good. First, let’s look at why that isn’t so. First of all, machines are big and noisy. First, wearing them is uncomfortable, and finally, first, machines know things that are not good for us to eat. That now said, let’s “get to the downing of business!”

Today, we will ask my machine a simple process: cooking my mama’s famous fudged corn-duck, for guests at our party. I simply strap the machine to my assistant head, we’ll just call to him “Chucky” for now (its name isn’t important, they can usually only be used once.) Now we ask the question above, and the digits work out answers in the form of high-pitched beepings.

Ah! We have our answer… Here for you who are reading these, you might think writing them down is good. I sure do. Get a pen and write these down:

– 1.2 kg Frozen Duck Part
– 350 ml Maple Sugarup
– .5 L Cornpaste
– 2.5 kg of Mrs. Stumple’s Choco-bloks
– 2 cans corn pieces

– Thaw duck to .35 thawdnessitude in a standard thawometer (or set in sun for 15 minutes).
– Coat duck-parts with Maple Sugarup and Cornpaste. Let this harden to a thick shell. You will layer these if you know it’s good for you.
– Dunk battered carcass in melted choco-bloks until fudgeining is inescapable.
– Affix corn pellets in festivity decorating.
– Place in lunar convection oven until at 48 kilobits (or set in sun for 15 minutes).

Serve and enjoy the duck! And, like my mama always said: “Eat the duck!”.
…..
Thanks go out to Vladimere, his machine, and his lovely mother for this recipe. It may not agree with the stomachs of most, but it is fun to listen to how f*edup foreigners are. Thanks to all!

~n

Average Rating: 4.4 out of 5 based on 244 user reviews.

Tuesday, February 6th, 2007

As you all know, I am a licensed Phychonautical-Theraprobe Technician, with degrees in Synaptic Liquefaction and Nural Tectonics from the “¡Mexican Commonwealth Fiesta-Institute of Rehabilitative Science Online!”. I am incredibly eager to share my wealth of knowledge with my small, emotionally-unstable reader base. For this reason, I invite you all to email me with your personal quandaries. These can be centered around personal problems, psychological turmoil, indecisiveness in your footwear purchases, confessionals of a sexy nature (no non-sexy confessions, please), or even requests for astrological guidance (I’m a level 4 moon-baby).

That said, I would like to start off helping a good friend of mine, Johndace McWrinkhaven, with his psychological troubles. Johndace writes:

“Dear Dr. Nayr, M.b.:

I have been having considerable difficulty swallowing solid foods lately. This has led to a feeling of inadequacy and is adversely affecting my private, public, and secret social lives. Today, while in the Foodatorium at the socialist sprocket-foundry where I often work, i was too nervous to eat my SIP (standard issue potato) in front of my present love interest “Charles”, so I retreated to the men’s room in a panic, only to find my other love interest, “Victoria” already using the facilities. When she asked me why I looked so flustered, I was overwhelmed by anxiety and became intensely disoriented. I flung the potato limp-wristed into the bathroom mirror, then curled into a ball on the floor. Upon waking fully-restrained in the facility’s psych-dome, I realized I needed professional help. Since I don’t know any legitimate professionals, I’m turning to you, my trusted, America-friend. Please help.

Cheerfully yours,

J.McW.”

Well, Johndace! That certainly sounds like a predicament! I once had a similar issue, except instead of an inability to swallow solid foods, I was unable to leave convincing voice-mail messages insulting those with similar problems to mine. In anycase, I think I can recall some helpful tidbits I learned at the ¡Fiesta Institute!.

From my own research, along with some other stuff I just made up, but which seems probably totally right: it is clear to me that you are suffering from a condition known as Acute OFIC(e)., or “Oh, F***! I Can’t (Eat)!” This disorder is of the family “OFIC(x)”, which can include a wide range of dysfunction’s, including OFIC(see), OFIC(breath), OFIC(dance). Yours is a very common disorder, occurring in four out of every four-hundred-million adults. A number of prescription creams have been developed, which, once rubbed on the scalp, slow your mental activities to levels which render your problem secondary. I would advise against these products, as they regularly do more damage than goodage.

I have a solution that I think you may find “palatable” :

Keep these items on your person at all times: a plastic bag, a hammer, and a 6-quart thermos of grapefruit juice. Whenever you need to ingest solid food, follow the following recipe: place the item to be consumed in the plastic bag, along with a quart of grapefruit juice (the citric acid in the juice will maybe help to dissolve and moisten the food probably). Strike the bag violently and repeatedly with the hammer, until the bag is filled with a pulpy puree. Have a friend assist you in pouring the contents of the bag over your mouth. Chances are some of this will make it down your throat.

¡Problem solved!

We will be answering more visitor mail periodically! Stay tuned for more psychoanalytical fun!

Just a little side note. This was an incredibly stupid problem. Please, anyone writing in, make sure that the personal problem you need help with isn’t a stupid one. To check to see if your problem is a stupid one, cross-reference your problem with “Rutherford and Hotchkey’s Atlas of Stupid Problems.”

Average Rating: 5 out of 5 based on 299 user reviews.

Thursday, February 1st, 2007

This blog is too serious. I just want to write funny stuff. I need a prompt. Someone give me a prompt…. yes, you there in the back… the man openly-weeping in the owl suit…

…hmm, that’s good…

Okay. Good. Onward! I can’t promise I wont slip in the occasional wordy, preachy, know-it-all philosophical piece now and then. The contrast in here might get intense… but i think it’ll be worthwhile…

Average Rating: 5 out of 5 based on 284 user reviews.