Elmo must die.....

Let me preface my thoughts by saying, I too, once thought Elmo was cute. That fuzzy red fur, the high pitched voice and laugh, the “innocent” personality. But that has changed. Its over for little evil Elmo. Let me explain:
I grew up watching Sesame Street. I loved seeing the whole gang of characters, some human and most talking puppets, but they were very real to me. Actually, they still are. I admit, that I still tune in from time to time just to see how the old gang is doing. Its good to see Oscar still being a grouch in his garbage can with Wormy. Bert and Ernie must be thrilled that Gay marriage is being allowed now. The Bear family and Telly and Zoe. Big Bird and Snuffy, though when I was a child, Big Bird was the only one to ever see Snuffleupagus, while everyone else thought Big Bird was crazy. I hear that drove him to drink, and peck at Bob and the other cast members, so they made Suffy “real”. Cookie Monster always scarfing down, (can you say Bong hit?) the Count doing his thing, and Kermit, never content just being a Muppet, trying to get the spotlight on SS as well. At least Missy Piggy kicked his ass now and again! Then lets talk about my favorite, Grover, that cute fuzzy blue monster, who always had a smile and was kind to everyone. I loved his gravelly voice, and how he shared about different places in the world, he was simply the best.
Then Elmo came along. Like I said, I too was caught up in “Elmopallooza” in the beginning. “Ha ha ha, hey everyone, look how cute I am”, he seemed to say every time I saw him. Then his plan for World Dominance became clear. Slowly, he worked his way into the main spotlight, getting more screen time and more accolades along the way. The other cast members started resenting him, but he was becoming powerful. Kermit confronted him and tried to stop his evil plan, but a few days later found the head of Zoot, the saxophone player in the Muppet band, in his shower stall. Then Elmo began his plan to assimilate all the young minds in America, with the debut of Elmo’s World. His own show within a show, where he was the main focus. Its true, he allowed Mr. Noodle to cavort in the early days, but then Elmo got jealous, and Mr. Noodle died…..The truth is starting to dawn on you isn’t it? Elmo started referring to himself in the third person, “Elmo is hungry” rather than “I am hungry”. Those around him were bullied, as his star power grew. Then came “Tickle me Elmo“, the doll every child in America had to have. Then came Limbo Elmo, Chicken Dance Elmo and Lets Pretend Elmo. Finally, there was Elmo Knows Your Name, where Parents program him to remember their names, and Elmo programs the child for…..
He started showing up on the Rosie O donnell show, the View and Martha Stewart. They had a falling out and where did Martha end up? That’s right, Prison. He had his own DVD, Elmo in Grouchland, much to the chagrin of Oscar. Oscar complained but Elmo drove by Oscar's garbage can on a steamroller, smiling.
Then came the full length movie, Elmo saves Christmas. Always the hero! He also appeared on The West Wing, (with a fake President, but a with a plan to meet the real President) and actually was the first "puppet" ever to testify before Congress. They loved him, and his ego grew even more.
In reality, Elmo wants to become the Anti-Christ, and he is well on the way. In January 2006, controversy surrounded the book "Potty Time With Elmo" when a mother reported that pressing the buttons caused Elmo to say "Who wants to die?" The book's manufacturer said that this was not an isolated claim, and that they'd had many complaints about the book. In reply, Elmo claims he is saying "Who wants to try?" Right…. Also, In February 2008, a Florida woman claims an Elmo Knows Your Name doll threatened to kill her son by name, which prompted many others to come forward as well. Some have disappeared, and some have been put in the Loony Bin, but who is crazy now?
So, its true, Elmo must die, or the world as we know it will cease to exist. Now that I have come forward with the truth, its only a matter of time before an “accident” or ‘sickness’ will occur. That’s OK, as long as the truth is revealed, and I am remembered as someone who spoke up. Mom, if you find my head in your shower stall, you know who did it.
As a sad footnote, Grover is now homeless, living in a dumpster behind K-mart, smoking crack. The Grover you see on Sesame street is a stand in stunt double. They use voice recordings from old shows to make him talk. Some of the other cast members are now dead, but I cannot say which ones. So sad….
Elmo must die……(disclaimer: the above article is purely fiction….or is it?)

Interesting Thoughts......

Ok, let me state right off, some of these are original, some are not. But me thinks they are all pretty funny. Hows about you? Feed back is encouraged. So are donations.....large bills only please.

I can't stand cheap people. It makes me real mad when someone says something like, "Hey, when are you going to pay me that $100 you owe me?" or "Do you have that $50 you borrowed?" Man, quit being so cheap.

I like to pick my nose at a stoplight and show my prize to the next car over. Just once, I wish they would try and outdo me.

I know this guy who is an insomniac and an agnostic and dyslexic. I bet he stays up all night wondering if there really is a dog.

Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny.

If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did."

If we could just get everyone to close their eyes and visualize world peace for an hour, imagine how serene the world would be before the looting started.

My Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why 2 of my brothers died of tuberculosis.

Once, I wept, for I had no shoes. Then I came across a man who had no feet. So I took his shoes. I mean, its not like he really needed them, right?

One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said. "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.

For centuries, people thought the moon was made of green cheese. Then the astronauts found out the moon is a big hard rock. That's what happens to cheese when you leave it out.

Often, when I am reading a good book, I stop and thank my teacher. That is, I used to, until she got an unlisted number.

Home is where the house is. Unless you live in a dumpster.

Democracy is a beautiful thing, except that part about letting just any old jackass vote.

Whenever I start getting sad about where I am in life, I think about the last words of my favorite Uncle. "a truck."

I believe you should live each day as if it were your last, which is why I don't have any clean laundry, because, come on, who wants to wash clothes on the last day of their life?

I like to go down to the dog pound and pretend that I've found my dog. Then I tell them to kill it anyway because I already gave away all its stuff. Dog people sure don't have a sense of humor.

When I go to heaven, I want to see my Grandpa again. But he better have lost the nose hair and the old man smell.

My young nephew asked me what happens after we die. I told him we get buried under a bunch of dirt and worms eat our bodies. I guess I should have told him the truth-that most of us go to hell and burn eternally-but I didn't want to upset him.

I was going to invent instant water, but I didn't know what to add to it.

Why are they called apartments if they are all stuck togethor?

I tattoed a skull on my tongue just to see the look on my dentists face.

I believe in traditional marriage and monogomy and am against bestiality. Man I hope I never never become a widowed sheep herder.

If I were an ant, I'd leave a scent trail to a big ol dog turd, just to see the look on the other ants faces.

I wish I would have a real tragic love affair and get so bummed out that I'd just quit my job and become a hobo for a few years or so, because I was thinking about doing that anyway.

Never Ending Cinnamon Bun

An original poem, by RB~

Never Ending Cinnamon bun

What if I had, the best thing yet, a never ending cinnamon bun?
That swirled around in circles forever, with never ending fun.
Sweet and sticky, it looks so good, my lips smack with delight.
I bring it near and I open up wide, and then I take the first bite.
My teeth sink in deep and bite off a hunk, of the lovely scrumptious dough.
I want to savor the delicious flavor, so I chew it up good and slow.
I cannot believe the wonderful luck, and the good fortune I have found.
I want to eat the whole thing by myself, so I dare not make a sound.
Bite after luscious bite, I'm enjoying the wonderfully yummy taste.
Letting crumbs fall all around me, I am not worried about any waste.
I can eat forever and ever, so I know for sure, that I won't reach the core.
And the thought is so good and makes me happy, that I gobble up even more.
There is no stopping me, I'm very excited so I charge on ahead like a bull.
But what's that now? In the core of my gut, I start to feel full?
Innoring my tummy, I decide on the spot, I must press on ahead.
It's not in charge, nor is it my boss, I reason with my head.
Gulping down more, I think I'm in trouble, as the room seems to be spinning.
My brain may be the one in charge, but my stomach sure feels like its winning.
Slowing down now, I realize with sorrow, that I do not feel so good.
Nauseas and sick, with my stomach bulging, I'd stop eating if I could.
But I'm hooked so good, I cannot move, like a fish that's taken the bait.
I notice as I look at myself in the mirror, that I've started putting on weight.
Bigger I grow, I eat more and more, and cannot find the will to stop.
My legs won't hold me, its too much weight, so on my side I flop.
Big as an elephant, I lay there limp, and know that I'm really caught.
But if I'm going to survive, and get back to normal, I must end this thought.
Of the cinnamon bun, great as it was, and as warm and good as it tasted.
If I don't stop now, thinking of it, I will surely forever be wasted.
So out of my mind, leaving the thought, away goes the great sticky bun.
And I shrink back to normal, slimming down fast, the battle seems to be won.
I sit back in my chair and let out a sigh, and then I look at my gut.
And wonder out loud, and say with a chuckle, "How bout a giant donut?"

The Election...My solution!

This is an Election year, that special time where we all get to choose what politician we think will be the least corrupt, and watch at least 9000 TV commercials where we hear them tell how corrupt their opponent is. What fun.
OK, I admit, I voted for our current President, and can still say I would do it again, even knowing what has taken place since then. Am I proud of my choice? Well, its a little like picking a huge booger, as I marvel at it myself, but don't really want anyone else to see it. I know you can relate, if you are honest. So maybe you don't inspect your nose nuggets, but you do pass gas. When no one is around, and you rip a big one, and it REALLY smells bad, you are kind of proud, arent you? Not so proud you call up your minister or your Mother, but secretly you cannot believe you have created something that smells like a dying hyena that rolled in vulture vomit.
Back to my original point, the current administration is not the best ever, but was the lesser of two evils. I think its the same this year, as the younger, hipper, minority candidate (who incedentally smokes ciggarettes)talks of change, without defining what that really means. The older, crustier, more experienced candidate (who we think may wear depends,) talks of more of the same, which has kept this country safe since 9/11, but also has seen the economy dip and the price of gas rise like a doughnut at a weight watchers meeting.
So, who to vote for? Me!
Ya, that's the ticket, as I am announcing my candidacy today, for President of the Untied Skates of America. Let me outline my vision for this great Nation.
First off, what I say, goes. None of this lets see how the House or Senate votes, I will be large and in charge. Move over Oprah.
Secondly, my plan for the current fuel crisis. Now most of you do not realize, but the largest single Country who we import Oil from, is Canada. Yes, that's right, the same country who recycles ham and calls it Canadian Bacon. Give us a break, you are not fooling anyone, eh? Also, lots of Maple syrup, which I love, and Hockey, which I hate. Oh, and they have one of the greatest rock Bands ever, Rush. (insert La Villa Strangiato here) Other than that, Canada serves no useful purpose other than Oil. So, I propose we make it the 51'st state of the USA. Oh, it won't take much, maybe 10 or so of those armored Recreation Vehicles like they had in the movie Stripes, driving up over the border. They shouldn't put up too much of a fight, other than a few hockey sticks. In the end, Americans will be paying less than 2 bucks a gallon again, and I will be the hero.
Here are a few more highlights of my plan. We only tax dumb people. Think about it, they are not smart enough to know the difference anyway. Also, no more Golf. I don't like Golf. All those golf courses across the land taking up valuble space. Those will now be turned into work, uh I mean "productivity" camps for the Canadians, (and maybe the House and Senate folks too) so we do not have to trade with China anymore. We have our own cheap labor now, to make our own cheap crap. I know, its brilliant. Thank you.
I realize there may be those that oppose my ideas, and let me assure you this: There is room in the new golf course "productivity" camps for you to labor along side of the Canadians. I promise to feed you all the Canaidian bacon and maple syrup you want, as well as cheap Canadian beer. *burp...
Also, I will need to fill a few new Cabinet positions: Head foot rub'er, Garlic munchie creator, Bikini babe presidential cheerleaders, and trout fishing coordinator. I know, more brilliance. Hold your applause.
Now before you go turning me in to Homeland security or The Mayberry Police, let me say that this blog was done with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Everything but the head foot rub'er that is. If you know someone who may qualify, let me know.
And how about full contact Golf with Bikini Babes handing out Garlic Treats? Ya, that's the ticket!

My Appendix 1967-2008 RIP

Yes, that’s right, the little guy bit the dust on Tuesday, June 3. I guess I will miss him/her/it. I guess it should have a name, so from here on I will refer to it as Mr. Squiggles. That seems appropriate. I realize that I have not given Mr. Squiggles much thought before, but now that he is gone, I kind of miss him. Thinking that he may be in a jar of solution or worse yet, has been flushed down the toilet, makes me a bit verbose. Actually, if it is the latter, he is heading towards the cesspool in the sewer now, to swim with all the other appendixes. Go Mr. Squiggles Go!
Anyway, back to the facts. On Monday night around 9PM, I started to get what seemed like an upset tummy. Not so severe that I would barf up sour worms in the back of my brother in law’s new car upset tummy, just a regular one. ( a blog for another time I suppose…) It got worse, and I tried going to bed around 1AM. I could not get comfortable and the pain increased. I tried the couch but had no better luck there, as it was really hurting a lot. Around 4AM, I turned on the computer and Yahooed (I don’t have to Google if I don’t want to!) for symptoms of intestinal blockage. Somehow, I thought my appendix was below my armpit, so I did not think of looking it up. Finally, I called the Kaiser advice Nurse, and after she asked me 3471 questions, some of which had nothing to do with medicine in any way, she told me to come to Emergency ASAP as it was probably my appendix. So, like any Macho guy would do, I drove myself over to the hospital, stopping off for a tattoo on the way. Figuring that my appendix may be getting surgically removed, I had I love (heart) Kaiser placed on my stomach like the gang members do. Ok, not really, but needless to say, my appendix was going.
Now get this: when I asked the Dr. what the appendix does for us, he said no one is really sure, but said something about as we evolved it was like a chicken gizzard or something. I AM NOT MAKING THAT UP! Wow, in an age where a space modular just landed on Mars, where we can engrave the entire bible on a pin head, where medically we are so advanced that we can replace most internal organs or give people different genital organs…..but its “something like a chicken gizzard?” He went on to say that it is about 3-4 inches long, and looks kind of like a worm. Aw, how cute. Hence the name, Mr. Squiggles.
I actually asked him if I could take it home to use as fishing bait, but he said no. Oh well, my gallbladder didn’t catch anything either.
I am thinking of having a memorial service for the little guy, where folks can make up nice things to say, and then we can release lots of long squiggly balloons in the sky, with prayers for Mr. Squiggles attached. My prayer is that he finds a nice lady appendix to settle down with. Or better yet, that he is reincarnated as a proctologists finger. That way he can be a pain in someone else’s ass!
Go Mr. Squiggles Go!