I've often wondered why Jerry Seinfeld has kept his horse teeth. They often distract from his otherwise wonderful monologues on talk shows. He can certainly afford to have his teeth fixed to look better. Ditto for country singer Jewel who has maintained those jagged teeth of hers throughout a long career of hit recordings. I wonder how many men she has soul kissed who had to get lip stitches at a hospital emergency room? Doesn't seem to matter. Fans still love her for who she is.
I already wrote a blog about David Letterman's space teeth. He finally got that "hole in the wall" covered, and looked better for the improvement. But his personality remained the same. Don't ask. Just read my blog about that venerable clown in sheep's clothing.
Another spaced out person is Michael Strahan, former New York Giant's linebacker, now hosting the Morning Show on NBC-TV with two middle-aged ladies. Strahan has a very large space between his upper two front teeth. Very distracting and I suspect makes it difficult for him to enunciate words. I was going to send him a dollar to start a fund called, LET'S FILL MICHAEL'S SPACE! But he would probably just spend the money raised.
Remember the southern redneck who won Powerball's jackpot? I think it was around 450 millionj. He took the cash, bought a lot of stuff, left $400,000 in his pickup truck that was stolen and never, ever repaired his teeth. They always looked rotten from smoking cigars and chewing tobacco. He eventually gave most of his winnings away. Then went broke. Nor did he ever have dentures. Too bad.
But let's get back to Jerry Seinfeld's horse teeth. If he ever calls me to have coffee in one of his antique cars and tell some funny stories, I 'll return his envelope filled with cash with a reminder, "Jerry, here's some money to fix your horse teeth. It's my gift to you."
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Saturday, July 18, 2015
WE THE PEOPLE ARE GOING TO THE DOGS!
With over thirty million people unemployed
in America, and no positive sign that the recession (depression?) will end
soon, we are obviously “going to the dogs!” Therefore, WE THE PEOPLE intends to
honor our millions of four-legged friends with a dramatic CANINE CONCERT on the
Washington Mall during the summer of 2016.
This musical extravaganza will feature a
concert by professional musicians playing on a very high frequency that only
dogs can hear. Of course their human handlers are welcome to attend, providing
they promise to behave. A web site will be available the first of the new year
for dog owners to sign up with their pet’s name, breed and age. There will be a
limit of four dogs for each owner who plans to attend this historic CANINE
CONCERT on the date to be announced.
WE THE PEOPLE anticipate a million mutts
and 500,000 handlers attending. There will be a live one hour telecast and
internet streaming worldwide. It will definitely be a dog day to be remembered!
And “man’s best friend,” dogs of all breeds and sizes, will have an opportunity
to express their feelings about America in our nation’s Capitol.
According to the late psychiatrist, Dr. Joyce Brothers, "dog owners are anthropomorphic, that is, they see their pets as human beings by loving them, feeding them, walking them and sleeping with them. The animals reciprocate by displaying unbridled affection. Their friendship is eternal."
Therefore, WE THE PEOPLE will demonstrate our commitment to all dogs that we love them and will always treat them kindly.
Friday, July 3, 2015
WELCOME TO MENU'S, ROBOTS AND SPANISH!
Cyberspace and the Internet (thanks to Al Gore?) are mostly wonderful. In mini-seconds an ingoramus can cough up a million answers to any question imaginable. For example, "What are Andy Warhol's measurements? or "Name the brand of Cuban cigar that John F. Kennedy smoked."
Y'all know what I'm talking about! Quite frankly, we're all stupid when it comes to computers. That is, when they haven't crashed or freeze on a page.
Then there are the menu's we all have to endure. They have caused me to bite my nails and scratch my behind again. (Don't laugh. Nadel lost at Wimbledon to a lowly rated wannabe, whom I won't dignify by mentioning his name, and he was always scratching his butt between serves). The proliferation of options on a menu can drive any sane person to Prozac or other addictive drugs.
How about all those robots talking to you? Don't interrupt or you'll be chastised and disconnected; or worse, transferred to another menu! This endless destruction of our psyches has got to end somehow. Just blame your modem and keep going. You'll succeed eventually, with a liberal amount of profanity upstaging the music you have playing to soothe your indignation.
If you don't speak English, you certainly understand Spanish. The latter is an option on just about every menu on the computer. I grew up speaking English, along with typing that uses hyphens, dashes, quotation marks and paragrahs indented . My tenure in cyberspace is at peril. Big Brother is watching me and I expect to be tied up and tortured in the future. So be it.
If a robot suggests Spanish as an option, where are Dutch, German, French, Farsi, Italian and a dozen other languages? The Mensa Midgets who scanned the millions of pages and inserted them into computers laid a big egg by ignoring other languages. Shame on them!
Nevertheless, I am pleased to feel comfortable with my iMac for word processing (a/k/a typing) and to send Emails at no cost. My support of the US Post Office has been diminished 99$%. Boo-hoo. Let them keep raising the cost of stamps by half-a-cent for more confusion. Hardly anyone knows how to add or substract numbers anyhow. But I can!
So, on these sour notes I leave you for reading the NEW YORK TIMES. Not on Kindle, but in old-fashioned news print. I still can't give up turning those large pages and then putting them aside to wrap garbage for the big round can outside our garage door. What fun! And more rants later.
Y'all know what I'm talking about! Quite frankly, we're all stupid when it comes to computers. That is, when they haven't crashed or freeze on a page.
Then there are the menu's we all have to endure. They have caused me to bite my nails and scratch my behind again. (Don't laugh. Nadel lost at Wimbledon to a lowly rated wannabe, whom I won't dignify by mentioning his name, and he was always scratching his butt between serves). The proliferation of options on a menu can drive any sane person to Prozac or other addictive drugs.
How about all those robots talking to you? Don't interrupt or you'll be chastised and disconnected; or worse, transferred to another menu! This endless destruction of our psyches has got to end somehow. Just blame your modem and keep going. You'll succeed eventually, with a liberal amount of profanity upstaging the music you have playing to soothe your indignation.
If you don't speak English, you certainly understand Spanish. The latter is an option on just about every menu on the computer. I grew up speaking English, along with typing that uses hyphens, dashes, quotation marks and paragrahs indented . My tenure in cyberspace is at peril. Big Brother is watching me and I expect to be tied up and tortured in the future. So be it.
If a robot suggests Spanish as an option, where are Dutch, German, French, Farsi, Italian and a dozen other languages? The Mensa Midgets who scanned the millions of pages and inserted them into computers laid a big egg by ignoring other languages. Shame on them!
Nevertheless, I am pleased to feel comfortable with my iMac for word processing (a/k/a typing) and to send Emails at no cost. My support of the US Post Office has been diminished 99$%. Boo-hoo. Let them keep raising the cost of stamps by half-a-cent for more confusion. Hardly anyone knows how to add or substract numbers anyhow. But I can!
So, on these sour notes I leave you for reading the NEW YORK TIMES. Not on Kindle, but in old-fashioned news print. I still can't give up turning those large pages and then putting them aside to wrap garbage for the big round can outside our garage door. What fun! And more rants later.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Yes, the Side Effects Might Kill you!
Step right up folks and choose your poison. How about some Januvia for your Diabetes II? Or Stelara for clear skin? Come one come all. But user beware because there are horrible side effects that can cripple and even kill you! Also, if you are allergic to these drugs you must get permission from your doctor. Tell him all the medicine you are presently taking. Do not drive or operate heavy machinery.
No drinking of hard liquor whatsoever, even wine would do you harm. Always call your doctor first, especially if you experience a dry throat, low blood pressure, high blood pressure, extreme perspiration, loud coughing, swollen legs, growling stomach, incontinence, internal or external bleeding, double vision, shortness of breath and sore feet.
Should any of these side effects appear, do not hesitate to call 911, or quickly have someone drive you to the nearest hospital for ER treatment. That could save your life. Yes, you might die from an overdose of any of the powerful drugs being advertised on radio, television and in newspapers and magazines.
Then too, folks, your doctor can offer you free samples. Things like Anore, Namenda, Invokana, Brintallix, Victoza, Lyrica, Harvori, etc. He has drawers filled with the tiny pills from drug company salesmen. Just remember, "if you don't ask, you don't get." And drug companies "have what it takes to take what you've got." The latter can be reduced to one word: MONEY.
You will never see a drug company's front lawn looking like Tobacco Road, with used auto tires, broken glass, rusty wheel barrels and auto parts strewn around. No, their lawns are beautifully kept manicured to look like church property. Don't even think of throwing an empty soda can or Starbuck coffe cup on the lawn. Security cameras will have recorded your foul behavior and you will be evicted and possibly beaten up by mean security guards.
Finally, I suggest you stop using any drugs at all. Live a healthy life by eating moderately, exercising and laughing out loud at all the indignities of life that threaten you. Remember, laughter is the only tranquilizer without side effects. Laughing releases endorphins within your body that protect your immune system. Forget about calling your doctor. He's much too busy either playing golf or on the phone with his stock broker.
I hope you will feel some solace from this Blog, because that's its purpose. We are surrounded by so many "cure all" drugs that do nothing but empty your wallet. Don't fall into a sucker trap that addicts you to pills that pretend to perform. Nor should you interrupt your doctor's golf game or his purchase of stock. He needs to pay his malpractice insurance, in the event you have to sue.
No drinking of hard liquor whatsoever, even wine would do you harm. Always call your doctor first, especially if you experience a dry throat, low blood pressure, high blood pressure, extreme perspiration, loud coughing, swollen legs, growling stomach, incontinence, internal or external bleeding, double vision, shortness of breath and sore feet.
Should any of these side effects appear, do not hesitate to call 911, or quickly have someone drive you to the nearest hospital for ER treatment. That could save your life. Yes, you might die from an overdose of any of the powerful drugs being advertised on radio, television and in newspapers and magazines.
Then too, folks, your doctor can offer you free samples. Things like Anore, Namenda, Invokana, Brintallix, Victoza, Lyrica, Harvori, etc. He has drawers filled with the tiny pills from drug company salesmen. Just remember, "if you don't ask, you don't get." And drug companies "have what it takes to take what you've got." The latter can be reduced to one word: MONEY.
You will never see a drug company's front lawn looking like Tobacco Road, with used auto tires, broken glass, rusty wheel barrels and auto parts strewn around. No, their lawns are beautifully kept manicured to look like church property. Don't even think of throwing an empty soda can or Starbuck coffe cup on the lawn. Security cameras will have recorded your foul behavior and you will be evicted and possibly beaten up by mean security guards.
Finally, I suggest you stop using any drugs at all. Live a healthy life by eating moderately, exercising and laughing out loud at all the indignities of life that threaten you. Remember, laughter is the only tranquilizer without side effects. Laughing releases endorphins within your body that protect your immune system. Forget about calling your doctor. He's much too busy either playing golf or on the phone with his stock broker.
I hope you will feel some solace from this Blog, because that's its purpose. We are surrounded by so many "cure all" drugs that do nothing but empty your wallet. Don't fall into a sucker trap that addicts you to pills that pretend to perform. Nor should you interrupt your doctor's golf game or his purchase of stock. He needs to pay his malpractice insurance, in the event you have to sue.
Monday, June 8, 2015
Please Don't Follow Me and I Won't Follow You!
The last time I tweeted on Twitter was several years ago when I laid down for a nap. Unlike Rip Van Winkle I don't plan to awaken for another year or two. Why? Because I just followed Bob, Miles and Manny. Actually I scrolled down their never ending weekend of boring activities and was almost ready to throw this computer out of my office window. Right through the glass! That's how disgusted I was to get trapped into follow these three lizards slithering through life with nothing to do. Yuck!
Let's get started. I'm going to bore you to death. It might be difficult because you might already be dead. How many characters do I have to use for a tweet? Is it 127? 137? I'm not sure. WTF. I don't pay attention to rules. Here goes. Start reading. If you can last through the whole Blog I'll send you a crushed banana that I purposely stepped on for the Grand Prize. Otherwise you get nothing!
I woke up this morning and yawned. Then I took off my blanket and guess what? I had a sheet under the blanket. I said sheet, not "shit." Actually I had to sit on the can and sent a nice cigar shaped turd into the Hudson River.
Here's another Tweet. I turned on the TV news. Two prisoners have escaped from the MAXIMUM ESCAPE PRISON IN DANAMORA, NEW YORK. That "joint" is only 20 miles from the Canadian border. Both guys are killers; so if they kill again it won't matter. How many life sentences without parole do you need to be incarcerated forever? Answer: only one.
The best part of this prison escape is the $100,000 for a "snitch" to call in and tell where they are. They have to be somewhere, don't they? And who can resist earning a hundred grand with only one phone call on an ipad? Very tempting. If I see those killers I'm calling the FBI, CIA, HSA and Anderson Cooper. He will be taking the Red Eye to where they are and collect the reward money.
Radio Station CHUM in Toronto broadcast an exclusive interview with the two killers (Called A and B to protect their families who are now in the Witness Protection Program for their safety).
A: We decided to break out a year ago when the food menu dropped to a new low.
B: Yeah. Baloney for breakfast, baloney for lunch and baloney for suppeer. That's a lot of baloney!
A: It wasn't only the cuisine. There were lumps in my mattress and rats living with me.
B. I thought you made good rat meat loaf for my birthday.
A. That was a special occasion, shithead. Don't expect any cake next year without a urine flavor.
B. Ummmm. I can taste it already. Will I get to lick your can?
A. Maybe. If you promise to suck my toes.
B. Certainly. Now let's plan to break out of jail and see if we can stay out for at least 72 hours.
A. Good idea. We'll separate and I'll meet you at McDonald's for dinner tomorrow night.
B. O.K. wear the Burka and pretend you have tits. Nobody will know you're one of the escapees.
A. I'm ready. It fits like I'm going to walk on the Red Carpet. I'll have a D Cup size.........
B. Oh shut up and get ready to drill. Here's a chain saw and a map of the tunnel we'll be crawling through for the outside world. Just keep drilling and don't make any noise.
A. I'll be careful. Especially with the silencer on my drill. Nice touch to our escape plan.
B. If we get caught. Be ready for Plan B...
A. I didn't get Plan B. What is it?
B. How should I know pisshead! You were supposed to leave it under my door...
A. You don't have a door. You're in the hole, asshole.
B. Be careful how you insult me pinhead. I might have to kill you.
A. Ha ha. GFY dummy. Let's end this and get to work on the tunnel.
I'm back to napping. Don't wake me if those two guys get caught. I'll read the whole story in the NEW YORK TIMES. Thanks for reading, folks. I'll do better next time.
Let's get started. I'm going to bore you to death. It might be difficult because you might already be dead. How many characters do I have to use for a tweet? Is it 127? 137? I'm not sure. WTF. I don't pay attention to rules. Here goes. Start reading. If you can last through the whole Blog I'll send you a crushed banana that I purposely stepped on for the Grand Prize. Otherwise you get nothing!
I woke up this morning and yawned. Then I took off my blanket and guess what? I had a sheet under the blanket. I said sheet, not "shit." Actually I had to sit on the can and sent a nice cigar shaped turd into the Hudson River.
Here's another Tweet. I turned on the TV news. Two prisoners have escaped from the MAXIMUM ESCAPE PRISON IN DANAMORA, NEW YORK. That "joint" is only 20 miles from the Canadian border. Both guys are killers; so if they kill again it won't matter. How many life sentences without parole do you need to be incarcerated forever? Answer: only one.
The best part of this prison escape is the $100,000 for a "snitch" to call in and tell where they are. They have to be somewhere, don't they? And who can resist earning a hundred grand with only one phone call on an ipad? Very tempting. If I see those killers I'm calling the FBI, CIA, HSA and Anderson Cooper. He will be taking the Red Eye to where they are and collect the reward money.
Radio Station CHUM in Toronto broadcast an exclusive interview with the two killers (Called A and B to protect their families who are now in the Witness Protection Program for their safety).
A: We decided to break out a year ago when the food menu dropped to a new low.
B: Yeah. Baloney for breakfast, baloney for lunch and baloney for suppeer. That's a lot of baloney!
A: It wasn't only the cuisine. There were lumps in my mattress and rats living with me.
B. I thought you made good rat meat loaf for my birthday.
A. That was a special occasion, shithead. Don't expect any cake next year without a urine flavor.
B. Ummmm. I can taste it already. Will I get to lick your can?
A. Maybe. If you promise to suck my toes.
B. Certainly. Now let's plan to break out of jail and see if we can stay out for at least 72 hours.
A. Good idea. We'll separate and I'll meet you at McDonald's for dinner tomorrow night.
B. O.K. wear the Burka and pretend you have tits. Nobody will know you're one of the escapees.
A. I'm ready. It fits like I'm going to walk on the Red Carpet. I'll have a D Cup size.........
B. Oh shut up and get ready to drill. Here's a chain saw and a map of the tunnel we'll be crawling through for the outside world. Just keep drilling and don't make any noise.
A. I'll be careful. Especially with the silencer on my drill. Nice touch to our escape plan.
B. If we get caught. Be ready for Plan B...
A. I didn't get Plan B. What is it?
B. How should I know pisshead! You were supposed to leave it under my door...
A. You don't have a door. You're in the hole, asshole.
B. Be careful how you insult me pinhead. I might have to kill you.
A. Ha ha. GFY dummy. Let's end this and get to work on the tunnel.
I'm back to napping. Don't wake me if those two guys get caught. I'll read the whole story in the NEW YORK TIMES. Thanks for reading, folks. I'll do better next time.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
How To Have A Great Summer Party!
It was the summer of 1978. Lou Wolfson's horse Affirmed had won the Triple Crown (thanks to profits he had made from financing our satirical movie on sex, "Is There Sex After Death?" featuring Buck Henry ("The Graduate"), Robert Downey, Sr. ("Putney Swope") and other known performers. My wife, Jeanne, and I lived in Westport,CT with daughter Jennifer, then six years old, and we had an antique Duluth, Winnepeg & Pacific Railroad Caboose in the back yard.
We decided to have one grand party in our spacious back yard, headlining the caboose, and give all our guests a month's notice. We sent out thirty invitations and kept fingers crossed for a nice summer day with no rain. Within a week, the phone began ringing. Those invited wanted to bring parents, children, relatives and even neighbors from New York, New Jersey and Connecticut.
A week before the event we had 150 adult guests arriving with 30 kids to entertain. We obviously would require a production as follows:
1. A printed program along with a list of the guests, their ages, marital status, profession, hobbies and take home pay. Also address and phone.
2. A string quartet to play on top of the caboose and an eight member jazz band to alternate 20 minute sets. The latter would be on the nearby basketball court.
3. A dancing horse and its rider from the Apple Circus who was a friend of ours.
4. A magician to entertain the children near one of three ponds.
5. 200 kazoos for everyone to play "Bridge on the River Kwai" (Colonel Bogey March) and parade down the street at the conclusion of the party that would last from 2 pm until 6 pm.
6. Three ceremonial trumpets would play a brief fanfare for each arrival. I would announce their presence over the bull horn, as one of our production staff handled the tray of food each person was asked to bring.
7. A local policeman would be hired to direct traffic and point out parking areas for cars.
8. Professor Richard Brown, from The New School, offered to film the day's event for his movie class.
Everything worked out perfectly. The weather was beautiful, there was plenty of delicious food on the buffet tables, the music had people listening and dancing, only one three year old fell in the pond and was quickly rescued, there was every profession imaginable attending......from Al Goldstein, publisher of Screw Magazine, to Dick Wittingham, Editor-in-Chief of LIFE Magazine.
So, folks, if you are going to throw a very special party to be remembered forever, follow our script as displayed. No charge for being a copycat.
We decided to have one grand party in our spacious back yard, headlining the caboose, and give all our guests a month's notice. We sent out thirty invitations and kept fingers crossed for a nice summer day with no rain. Within a week, the phone began ringing. Those invited wanted to bring parents, children, relatives and even neighbors from New York, New Jersey and Connecticut.
A week before the event we had 150 adult guests arriving with 30 kids to entertain. We obviously would require a production as follows:
1. A printed program along with a list of the guests, their ages, marital status, profession, hobbies and take home pay. Also address and phone.
2. A string quartet to play on top of the caboose and an eight member jazz band to alternate 20 minute sets. The latter would be on the nearby basketball court.
3. A dancing horse and its rider from the Apple Circus who was a friend of ours.
4. A magician to entertain the children near one of three ponds.
5. 200 kazoos for everyone to play "Bridge on the River Kwai" (Colonel Bogey March) and parade down the street at the conclusion of the party that would last from 2 pm until 6 pm.
6. Three ceremonial trumpets would play a brief fanfare for each arrival. I would announce their presence over the bull horn, as one of our production staff handled the tray of food each person was asked to bring.
7. A local policeman would be hired to direct traffic and point out parking areas for cars.
8. Professor Richard Brown, from The New School, offered to film the day's event for his movie class.
Everything worked out perfectly. The weather was beautiful, there was plenty of delicious food on the buffet tables, the music had people listening and dancing, only one three year old fell in the pond and was quickly rescued, there was every profession imaginable attending......from Al Goldstein, publisher of Screw Magazine, to Dick Wittingham, Editor-in-Chief of LIFE Magazine.
So, folks, if you are going to throw a very special party to be remembered forever, follow our script as displayed. No charge for being a copycat.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
What Will Bruce Jenner Do With His Extra Body Part?
He could give it to someone. Perhaps hold an auction on eBay, if they would allow "something questionable." Probably not. Or gift the body part to a relative. Another possible is to display it, on the mantlepiece, in a jar filled with pickle juice. That might seem too gross for a newly made woman. On the other hand a DESPERATE HOUSEWIFE wouldn't hesitate for a moment to display her hubby's hose.
I would love to question Lorena Bobbitt's ex husband, John, about this situation. The last I heard, he was an entertainer in Las Vegas, allowing tourists to throw plastic rings, from a distance, on to his sewn on and extended pee-pee. As a lady from New Bern,NC said on the "Jenny Jones Show," "Too bad Lorena told authorities where she threw his joint."
Now, you readers are all wondering why I haven't just flat out said "penis" so far. Well, out of deference to Bruce Jenner, albeit his cover photo on VANITY FAIR MAGAZINE will sell at least 15 million copies, he/she deserves a little bit of modesty and privacy. Hmmmmmm. Not a very good excuse!
But I am a media provocateur somewhat sad today. Why? Because the NEWSEUM in Washington,DC, a depository of news memorabilia, has rejected my offer to sell them my memorabilia over the past fifty years. I have thousands of letters, tapes and photos that could provide incredible source material among their other collections. Oh well, BROWN UNIVERSITY also decided not to buy my stuff. I believe i lost by one vote.
So let's get back to Bruce Jenner. Probably the happiest person in the world (for awhile at least) is Bill Cosby. All his attention on the top of the news has vanished, even though drugged woman number forty has claimed she was violated. Wait! Is it possible that Cosby and Jenner might become a twosome? Never mind.
There are so many negatives going through my mind today, ranging from the despicable orange haired killer in Colorado and his sobbing parents in the courtroom, to the fact that the late Paul Newman (may he RIP) who took his own popcorn to movie theaters. Yes, there is quite a distance between those two observations. And I will end today's blog on that because it's time for me to sulk.
I would love to question Lorena Bobbitt's ex husband, John, about this situation. The last I heard, he was an entertainer in Las Vegas, allowing tourists to throw plastic rings, from a distance, on to his sewn on and extended pee-pee. As a lady from New Bern,NC said on the "Jenny Jones Show," "Too bad Lorena told authorities where she threw his joint."
Now, you readers are all wondering why I haven't just flat out said "penis" so far. Well, out of deference to Bruce Jenner, albeit his cover photo on VANITY FAIR MAGAZINE will sell at least 15 million copies, he/she deserves a little bit of modesty and privacy. Hmmmmmm. Not a very good excuse!
But I am a media provocateur somewhat sad today. Why? Because the NEWSEUM in Washington,DC, a depository of news memorabilia, has rejected my offer to sell them my memorabilia over the past fifty years. I have thousands of letters, tapes and photos that could provide incredible source material among their other collections. Oh well, BROWN UNIVERSITY also decided not to buy my stuff. I believe i lost by one vote.
So let's get back to Bruce Jenner. Probably the happiest person in the world (for awhile at least) is Bill Cosby. All his attention on the top of the news has vanished, even though drugged woman number forty has claimed she was violated. Wait! Is it possible that Cosby and Jenner might become a twosome? Never mind.
There are so many negatives going through my mind today, ranging from the despicable orange haired killer in Colorado and his sobbing parents in the courtroom, to the fact that the late Paul Newman (may he RIP) who took his own popcorn to movie theaters. Yes, there is quite a distance between those two observations. And I will end today's blog on that because it's time for me to sulk.
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