• One of Adam Lambert’s dancers stuck his face in the singer’s crotch during a performance on the American Music Awards.
• Adam Lambert was on the American Music Awards.
• “Mad Men” Season 3 ended.
• There is a nationwide shortage of Eggos, the delicious frozen waffle treat.
• Sarah Palin’s book is #1 on Amazon.com
• Law enforcement officials could sniff out a Canoga Park pot warehouse, but didn’t notice the sex compound in Philip Garrido’s backyard.
• L.A. teachers: 12% pay cut?
• This guy at work still has a Howard Dean and a John Kerry bumper sticker on his car—and it drives me crazy every time I see it.
• The older I get, the more often I fart.
• One day, chickens may no longer be fun.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
THINGS WE CAN ALL AGREE ON (can’t we?)
• When someone describes something as being “phenomenal,” it never really is. (A colleague once actually told me that the entertainment on her cruise ship was “phenomenal.” Uh, yeah.)
• Nobody over the age of 10 should ever use the phrases, “Sweet!” or “You rock!”
• At lease once during any meeting in any workplace, someone will say either (a) “Why reinvent the wheel?” or (b) “At the end of the day…”
• Hairdressers and barbers always have the worst hairdos and haircuts, just as people who work at cosmetic counters or beauty supply stores always have the worst makeup.
• We already know who will win “The Biggest Loser.” It will be the one who loses the most weight. (Oops, spoiler alert!)
• Approximately 75% of plays that win the Tony suck.
• Approximately 75% of books that win the Pulitzer Prize suck.
• Nobody—that’s right, nobody—looks good in a sleeveless shirt.*
(* This comment provided by Sleeve Makers Union, Local 17, 33/34.)
• Nobody over the age of 10 should ever use the phrases, “Sweet!” or “You rock!”
• At lease once during any meeting in any workplace, someone will say either (a) “Why reinvent the wheel?” or (b) “At the end of the day…”
• Hairdressers and barbers always have the worst hairdos and haircuts, just as people who work at cosmetic counters or beauty supply stores always have the worst makeup.
• We already know who will win “The Biggest Loser.” It will be the one who loses the most weight. (Oops, spoiler alert!)
• Approximately 75% of plays that win the Tony suck.
• Approximately 75% of books that win the Pulitzer Prize suck.
• Nobody—that’s right, nobody—looks good in a sleeveless shirt.*
(* This comment provided by Sleeve Makers Union, Local 17, 33/34.)
Sunday, October 25, 2009
CHICKENS DON’T GET THE FLU
Many scientists the world over, including France, have recently come to the realization that chickens never catch the flu.
This discovery, like all great discoveries such as America and frozen waffles, came about quite accidentally.
As most people of average intelligence know, the method for developing the flu vaccine is based on a 50-year-old method of injecting the flu virus into eggs.
The virus feeds on the egg whites, the eggshells are cracked, the virus is killed and the substance is purified. Many of you have already practiced this in your own home using the Heath Kit Lil’ Egg Flu Vaccine Maker.
So, if you are one of the hundreds of paranoids waiting in line for your flu shot this year, perhaps there is an easier, more holistic approach:
Be more chicken-like in your everyday life.
As explained by Cal State Dinuba scientist Messugah Chalaza, “The chicken egg is not upset when the flu virus is injected, and therefore chickens are immune. I therefore urge every man and woman to immediately renounce his or her homo sapienness and embrace their homo chickenness. Unfortunately, pygmies will get the flu no matter what. Now, where’s my pap? I want my pap!”
Local poultry rights activists are providing another reason to become familiar with your inner chicken. They believe that injecting a flu virus into an innocent egg is murder, and that the vaccine should instead be tested on non-living things such as homeless people.
Thos who still wish to tap their inner chicken are advised to follow the teachings found in the recent best-selling book by Deepeck Cluckra, “The Way of the Chicken,” which outlines how humans can become more chicken-like.
The book’s main advice includes:
• Do not be ashamed of your pecker. Display it proudly at all times.
• Associate with more cocks on a daily basis.
• What you think may be a bowel movement could actually be an egg. As you are upon the bowl (or “porcelain nest”), repeat the mantra, “Round, white, round, white,” for at least an hour. Check carefully before you flush.
• Remember the basics:
1. Cluck on a daily basis, no matter how loud and sweaty you may get.
2. Flap your wings (or arms) erratically, not matter how futile and annoying it may be to others.
3. Avoid rotisseries.
This discovery, like all great discoveries such as America and frozen waffles, came about quite accidentally.
As most people of average intelligence know, the method for developing the flu vaccine is based on a 50-year-old method of injecting the flu virus into eggs.
The virus feeds on the egg whites, the eggshells are cracked, the virus is killed and the substance is purified. Many of you have already practiced this in your own home using the Heath Kit Lil’ Egg Flu Vaccine Maker.
So, if you are one of the hundreds of paranoids waiting in line for your flu shot this year, perhaps there is an easier, more holistic approach:
Be more chicken-like in your everyday life.
As explained by Cal State Dinuba scientist Messugah Chalaza, “The chicken egg is not upset when the flu virus is injected, and therefore chickens are immune. I therefore urge every man and woman to immediately renounce his or her homo sapienness and embrace their homo chickenness. Unfortunately, pygmies will get the flu no matter what. Now, where’s my pap? I want my pap!”
Local poultry rights activists are providing another reason to become familiar with your inner chicken. They believe that injecting a flu virus into an innocent egg is murder, and that the vaccine should instead be tested on non-living things such as homeless people.
Thos who still wish to tap their inner chicken are advised to follow the teachings found in the recent best-selling book by Deepeck Cluckra, “The Way of the Chicken,” which outlines how humans can become more chicken-like.
The book’s main advice includes:
• Do not be ashamed of your pecker. Display it proudly at all times.
• Associate with more cocks on a daily basis.
• What you think may be a bowel movement could actually be an egg. As you are upon the bowl (or “porcelain nest”), repeat the mantra, “Round, white, round, white,” for at least an hour. Check carefully before you flush.
• Remember the basics:
1. Cluck on a daily basis, no matter how loud and sweaty you may get.
2. Flap your wings (or arms) erratically, not matter how futile and annoying it may be to others.
3. Avoid rotisseries.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
THE TORTURE OF STARBUCKS
You would think that ordering a cup of coffee would be easy. Mindless. Something a monkey could easily be trained to do.
Think again, my presupposing post-primate.
Today I visited my local Barnes and Noble. Following the lead of Mrs. Jerry K, instead of actually buying books and contributing to the local economy and supporting the authors, I begin a book in the bookstore, make a note of what page I stopped at, then continue at said page on my next visit.
Hey, what do you want from a guy who actually washes and reuses plastic forks?
So, I grab my book and head to the in-store Starbucks area. Now, as everyone knows, your penance for sitting in this most hallowed of areas is that you have to purchase something. Bastardos!
The area is usually filled with high school or community college students who gather there to work on homework. Except that 90 percent of the time, they are too busy talking to get any work done.
And that is why we need to immediately stop funding all educational institutions! Shut ‘em all down, I say! That's the only logical conclusion.
Anyway, I just want to buy the cheapest thing possible and read a book that I’m too cheap to buy.
Now, I considered embellishing this little exchange in order to make it—I don’t know—funny. But I swear on the life of my pet chicken that the following actually happened and that I am repeating it verbatim.
Can I have a small coffee, please? (I refuse to say dente or stupende or schmente or whatever made-up words they have up there on the menu.)
Would you like room for cream?
Yes.
Would you like to have anything from the display case?
I would, but I better not. (That’s me being friendly and reaching out to my fellow human beings. Usually results in blank stares.)
Would you like to also purchase your book?
No.
I’m sorry, did you say you wanted room for cream?
Yes.
There’s a fresh pot brewing. Would you like to wait for that?
Sure.
Do you have a Barnes and Noble membership card?
No.
Would you like to purchase one? It will save you ten percent off your purchase today.
No thanks. (Notice how polite I am?)
What is your name? I will call your name when it’s ready.
Jerry.
Did you say “Garry”?
No, JJJJJJJJJerry. (That’s a hard “J” sound, folks. Pretty common name, wouldn’t you say? Yet, you would be amazed at the questions I get. “Is that Jerry with a “J” or a “G”? “Is that J-e-r-r-y or J-e-r-r-i?”)
Now, I ask you: What about all those movies when a guy walks into a diner and asks for a cup of joe. It’s always such a simple transaction, and usually goes something like this:
A cup of coffee, please.
Comin’ right up.
That’s it! That’s all! Sometimes the counterperson says nothing at all. Instead, I get a freakin’ interrogation.
It’s enough to make you think that movies aren’t like real life.
Think again, my presupposing post-primate.
Today I visited my local Barnes and Noble. Following the lead of Mrs. Jerry K, instead of actually buying books and contributing to the local economy and supporting the authors, I begin a book in the bookstore, make a note of what page I stopped at, then continue at said page on my next visit.
Hey, what do you want from a guy who actually washes and reuses plastic forks?
So, I grab my book and head to the in-store Starbucks area. Now, as everyone knows, your penance for sitting in this most hallowed of areas is that you have to purchase something. Bastardos!
The area is usually filled with high school or community college students who gather there to work on homework. Except that 90 percent of the time, they are too busy talking to get any work done.
And that is why we need to immediately stop funding all educational institutions! Shut ‘em all down, I say! That's the only logical conclusion.
Anyway, I just want to buy the cheapest thing possible and read a book that I’m too cheap to buy.
Now, I considered embellishing this little exchange in order to make it—I don’t know—funny. But I swear on the life of my pet chicken that the following actually happened and that I am repeating it verbatim.
Can I have a small coffee, please? (I refuse to say dente or stupende or schmente or whatever made-up words they have up there on the menu.)
Would you like room for cream?
Yes.
Would you like to have anything from the display case?
I would, but I better not. (That’s me being friendly and reaching out to my fellow human beings. Usually results in blank stares.)
Would you like to also purchase your book?
No.
I’m sorry, did you say you wanted room for cream?
Yes.
There’s a fresh pot brewing. Would you like to wait for that?
Sure.
Do you have a Barnes and Noble membership card?
No.
Would you like to purchase one? It will save you ten percent off your purchase today.
No thanks. (Notice how polite I am?)
What is your name? I will call your name when it’s ready.
Jerry.
Did you say “Garry”?
No, JJJJJJJJJerry. (That’s a hard “J” sound, folks. Pretty common name, wouldn’t you say? Yet, you would be amazed at the questions I get. “Is that Jerry with a “J” or a “G”? “Is that J-e-r-r-y or J-e-r-r-i?”)
Now, I ask you: What about all those movies when a guy walks into a diner and asks for a cup of joe. It’s always such a simple transaction, and usually goes something like this:
A cup of coffee, please.
Comin’ right up.
That’s it! That’s all! Sometimes the counterperson says nothing at all. Instead, I get a freakin’ interrogation.
It’s enough to make you think that movies aren’t like real life.
Monday, September 7, 2009
THE YENTA CHICKEN
Hi there once again all you clucks and cocks. This is Feathers Mendelbeak, your local Yenta Chicken, checking in with all the latest gossip around the old henhouse.
Item #1: Guess which white and unmarried hen recently surprised everyone in the coop when she popped out a brown egg? I won’t name names, but let’s just say she’s been known to spread her wings on several occasions…and it wasn’t to do any flying either!
Item #2: A certain cluckster has been leading a double life at night as an exotic dancer at a local barn. She goes by the name of “Chicken Tenders,” and rumor has it that she partakes in some kinky behavior for the right price.
Examples:
• For a pound of chicken feed, she is willing to dress up like she’s been barbequed.
• For two pounds of extra grade feed, she will allow the client to pluck her all night.
• She’s been known to swing both ways: chickens and roosters.
‘Nuff said for now.
Item #3: Yours truly recently attended the World Premiere of “Impecktuous Clucksters,” the latest opus by that bad boy of poultry cinema, Chirpy Beakatino.
Had a fabulous time dirt-bathing with some of the hottest scratchers on the big screen, and the movie itself was a hoot, offering an alternative history to one of the darkest eras in chicken history. Believe me, the Poultry Rights activists clucked in delight as the foxes got their comeuppance at the film’s end. And might as well polish off an Oscar now for that fabulous supporting actor who chirped in four languages!
That’s it for now. Until next time, this is Feathers Mendelbeak saying keep your wings clipped and your eggs warm. CCFN!
Item #1: Guess which white and unmarried hen recently surprised everyone in the coop when she popped out a brown egg? I won’t name names, but let’s just say she’s been known to spread her wings on several occasions…and it wasn’t to do any flying either!
Item #2: A certain cluckster has been leading a double life at night as an exotic dancer at a local barn. She goes by the name of “Chicken Tenders,” and rumor has it that she partakes in some kinky behavior for the right price.
Examples:
• For a pound of chicken feed, she is willing to dress up like she’s been barbequed.
• For two pounds of extra grade feed, she will allow the client to pluck her all night.
• She’s been known to swing both ways: chickens and roosters.
‘Nuff said for now.
Item #3: Yours truly recently attended the World Premiere of “Impecktuous Clucksters,” the latest opus by that bad boy of poultry cinema, Chirpy Beakatino.
Had a fabulous time dirt-bathing with some of the hottest scratchers on the big screen, and the movie itself was a hoot, offering an alternative history to one of the darkest eras in chicken history. Believe me, the Poultry Rights activists clucked in delight as the foxes got their comeuppance at the film’s end. And might as well polish off an Oscar now for that fabulous supporting actor who chirped in four languages!
That’s it for now. Until next time, this is Feathers Mendelbeak saying keep your wings clipped and your eggs warm. CCFN!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE RESTROOM KIND
Ah, life, why must you taunt us so with your endless mysteries?
How many of us have not marveled in awe at the wonder that is Stonehenge, the inscrutable Dead Sea Scrolls, the perplexing and annoying three-legged chickens of Pacoima?
Since I have written several extensive volumes on these enigmas in my prize-winning tome, “Great Mysteries of the World: What Up With That?” I will now direct my attention to perhaps the greatest puzzle that has taunted mankind since time began:
Why can’t I find a decent faculty restroom on a public school campus?
Sure, on occasion I strike it lucky with the first restroom I visit. But with God as my witness (and I know He is watching this unfold closely), I often have to enter four or more faculty restrooms before I find one that is acceptable.
I know what you’re thinking, and no, I am not being fussy or particular. I’m just looking for a decent facility so I can drop the kids off at the pool as quickly and safely as possible.
Here’s what happened just the other day as I hunted for a restroom, and trust me, this was not unusual. (Keep in mind that each faculty restroom has only one stall.)
• First Restroom: Sign posted on front door saying “Out of Order.”
• Second Encounter: No sign on door. OK so far, and I open the door as if I’m in a horror movie and anything could appear on the other side. No go: the toilet is clogged up with a bouillabaisse of bowel movements.
•Third: OK, a couple of dead cockroaches, but no live ones and no spiders that may want to pitch a tent in my tuches. But then, alas, no toilet paper. On to the next one.
(Now keep in mind that on a large high school campus, these restrooms are miles apart from each other, so I am clenching my buns and trotting from one corner of the campus to the other, waiting for my sweet release like Rush Limbaugh waiting for his maid to bring his oxycontin or Michael Jackson begging for his injection of propofyl.)
• Fourth Try: All right! This is a newer facility. Even has air-conditioning, instead of a pipe that leads outside directly in front of someone’s leaf blower. As I do my business, I’m feeling like Donald Trump depositing gold bars in one of my tacky hotels. All is well, time to wash my hands, but then: no water from the faucet.
• Fifth Visit: Back to the doody-filled bathroom mentioned in the Second Encounter, where a trickle of water allows me to wash my hands. Finally, mission accomplished, this time with no casualties.
In the past, there have been variations on this quest—no soap, no paper towels, no toilet seat covers—you get the idea. And as far as hot water goes, that’s harder to find than a convincing performance by Jessica Alba.
So, the next time you feel self-conscious when using the facilities at your own place of work, just remember, it could be worse. You could be back at high school.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
TODAY’S RECOMMENDATION: THE FLU!
If you find yourself stuck in a rut during these last dog days of summer, may I make a helpful suggestion? Get the flu!
Speaking as one who has had this precious gift for three weeks now, I think I speak with authority when I say it’s just the spice you need to sprinkle on your doldrums.
If you’re really lucky, it may even develop into bronchitis. Mine did!
Just look at the benefits of inviting the flu into your life:
• Sleep: Who needs another boring night of restful, uninterrupted sleep? With the flu, your sleep pattern is full of excitement, broken up all night long with intervals of coughing spasms, cold sweats, and expectoration. Every night is like a party. It does wonders for your marriage, too; just when your spouse was complaining about how predictable you are, she will never know just when you will cough in her face!
• Mucus: With the flu, say goodbye to the everyday routine of breathing in and out. Boring! Instead, each breath you take is like a new adventure, and usually results in a wonderful mucous mélange spewing out of your throat.
• Drugs: If you can finally get to see a real doctor, you can enjoy the benefits of miracle pills to tackle your flu. (Actually, it’s a miracle if they work, so don’t worry.) One possible side effect is diarrhea, so you may have a chance to create your own personal poo stew.
• Diet: Still need to shed a few pounds from all those BBQ parties you’ve been enjoying over the summer? No worries! With the flu, you won’t feel like eating a thing. Watch the pounds melt away. I’ve already lost 10 pounds and counting.
So what are you waiting for? Go lick some doorknobs. Hang around toddlers. Use a public rest room. Visit a Wal-Mart. And soon you will know the delights that the flu can do for you!
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