The Sunday Funnies

The epicurean tastes of Governor General Michaelle Jean were on the minds of Canadian editorial cartoonists this week, as were the nuclear tests in North Korea. And Brian Mulroney's unique approach to paying taxes on income received in plain brown envelopes was still fodder for some pundits.

Samba Pa Ti

This week's 70s Saturday recalls one of the greatest "make-out" songs of that decade - "Samba Pa Ti". The song was included on Carlos Santana's second album, 1970's Abraxas. A certain 18 year old found the music was pretty cool, and the album cover art wasn't bad either. Here's a live version of the song from a 1998 concert in Zagreb Croatia.

A Whiter Shade of Pale

We kill two birds with one song this week. We celebrate the birthday of vocalist Gary Brooker, who turns 65 today, and we enjoy his group, Procol Harum's, biggest hit, released in 1967.

Brooker founded Procol Harum in the mid 60s. In the 70s he played in Eric Clapton's band for a time and today often tours with former Rolling Stones bassist Bill Wyman's group the Ryhthm Kings.

As a child of the 60s I could never make up my mind which was more bizarre - the group's name or the lyrics to A Whiter Shade of Pale.

We skipped a light fandango,

Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor.

I was feeling kind of seasick,

But the crowd called out for more.

The room was humming harder,

As the ceiling flew away.

When we called out for another drink,

The waiter brought a tray.

And so it was that later,

As the miller told his tale,

That her face at first just ghostly,

Turned a whiter shade of pale.

She said there is no reason,

And the truth is plain to see

That I wandered through my playing cards,

And would not let her be

One of sixteen vestal virgins

Who were leaving for the coast.

And although my eyes were open,

They might just as well have been closed.

And so it was later,

As the miller told his tale,

That her face at first just ghostly,

Turned a whiter shade of pale.

A Heartfelt Display of Patriotism

You gotta have heart

Miles and miles and miles of heart

Oh, it's fine to be a genius of course

But keep that old horse before the cart

First you've gotta have heart

The media in Canada is all agog over Governor General Michaelle Jean eating raw seal heart. While visiting the Inuit village of Rankin Inlet in the northern territory of Nunavut Jean witnessed the carving of a seal and asked the locals if she could try the heart. She said she did it to show solidarity with seal hunters and said it is difficult to believe anyone would characterize the traditional hunting practices as inhumane. That may be so. But did she have to eat a seal's raw heart to prove her point?

Earlier this month the European Union called the seal hunt "inherently inhumane", voting to ban seal products.

Well, we certainly know where Canada's Governor General stands on this issue. There's been no reaction yet from Seal.

US and Them #4

If you had to identify the one thing that truly unites Americans with their northern neighbours, what would it be? The right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness? How about McDonald’s, Arby’s and Kentucky Fried Chicken? Or maybe it’s that we’re both great democracies? You’d have to be unpatriotic – or an illegal alien – to disagree with that but no that’s not it. Maybe it’s that each of our economies is in a tailspin? Or that we share the world’s longest undefended border? Nope, sorry, it’s none of the above. What really unites Canadians with their American brethren (and sistren) is their love of beer!

Tall-boys, stubbies, quarts, pints, cans, kegs or out of a tap, the nectar of the gods comes in many forms, shapes and sizes.

Now Canadians may hold their beer in a stein but they also hold it in high esteem. And they have a very distinct view of the quality associated with American beer.

Canadians may be known for their politeness and reserved nature but when it comes to their opinion of American beer, they simply can’t hold back. Not to put too fine a point on it, they think it tastes like swill. And they think when they drink it, owing to a) the distinct lack of alcohol compared to Canadian beer and b) it’s ability to pass through you quicker than spruce juice through a goose, they spend far too much time going to the bathroom. Yep if it weren’t for American beer we wouldn’t have that age-old maxim “You don’t purchase beer, you only rent it!” More importantly it has a lower buzz quotient. Yeah, you’ve got to drink many more in order to get your freak on.

Alas, it’s the Americans who have the last laugh on those uppity Canadians. You see Molson and Labatt’s - Canada’s largest breweries - are no longer, well, Canadian. Molson is owned by Coors , Labatt’s by Anheuser Busch.

But Canadians can rest easy. If all else fails, we still have Canada’s #1 favourite beer...

Oprah Fried Chicken

Now I ask you, does it look like this woman needs any more chicken - grilled, fried or otherwise? No, I think not. And she may have just set race relations back a decade by shilling for Kentucky Fried Chicken. But I digress.

If you're not aware of what I'm referring to, allow me to hallucinate. KFC has come out with a new line of "grilled" chicken. Commendable, considering they've only now decided to hop on the "eat healthy" band wagon that their competitors reluctantly initiated about 15 years ago. Enter Oprah. In an act of kindness (yeah, right, there's a deal in there somewhere) Mrs. Television directed viewers to her website where they could download coupons for a free grilled chicken meal.

The promotion was so successful KFC ran out of chicken in some centres and had to issue rain cheques. Over a matter of days KFC issued over 4.5 million free meals before having to temporarily suspend the promotion. Nevertheless, KFC says it's extremely happy with consumer response. All I can say to KFC is be careful what you wish for. Oprah used to give away cars and look at what's happened to that industry!

It's Towel Day!

Today's observance is a world-wide occasion to remember Douglas Adams, author of the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a book which Adams referred to as a "trilogy in five parts", a radio series, a television series, a video game, a movie - well you get the idea concerning it's popularity. The first Towel Day occured in 2001 days after Adams' death. Here's a brief excerpt from H2G2, the BBC television series, explaining the Pangalactic Gargle Blaster...




And here's Douglas Adams in what is touted as his last interview.



Hope you're wearing your towel today!

It's His Birthday

He is, perhaps, the greatest living songwriter. Bob Dylan turns 68 today and with the recent release of his latest album and his ongoing "Never Ending Tour" he shows no sign of slowing down. Here's a classic from one of my favourite Dylan periods - the mid 70s - with the enchanting Scarlet Rivera on violin...

One More Day

One day to go until Towel Day. Here's a clip featuring Douglas Adams explaining the many different versions of Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy...

The Sunday Funnies

Canadian political cartoonists didn't lack inspiration this week. Former PM Brian Mulroney completed his testimony at the public inquiry into his buiness dealings with Karl-Heinz Schrieber. GM and Chrysler announced they were closing down hundreds of dealers as a cost-saving measure. And then there's always something happening in those two staple areas of discussion for Canadians: sports and the weather.

If You Wanna Get To Heaven

This week's 70s Saturday showcased artist is the Ozark Mountain Daredevils. One look at all that hair and those beards give you a good idea where the group got it's name. One of their most popular tunes came off their first album, released in 1973...

Two More Days

Yummy, Yummy, Yummy

Well, it's Friday folks. Time for a walk down musical memory lane. In the 60s a musical genre emerged almost as insipid as it's successor - disco. The popularity of Bubblegum Pop ran from 1967 to 1972. And no group better epitomized this style (and I use the word advisedly) of music as The Ohio Express. Sit back and enjoy this 1968 performance in all it's lip-synched glory...

Dilemma

Is it possible to write a humourous post without making references to breasts, penises, vaginas or bums?

Have I just answered my own question?

Three More Days

Chesticles

God, uh, if there is one, is one smart dude. As the story goes he fashioned Eve from Adam's rib and that point in man - and women's - evolution can be pointed to as when the trouble began. Well, He made her different, didn't He. He gave her something with which to catch man's eye. Yep, I'm talking about breasts. Or as the Urban Dictionary euphamistically describes them:


Tits, titties, tig ol' bitties, boobs, jugs, melons, cans, hooters, dirty pillows, gazongas, yabbos, tig bitties, knockers, mammaries, fun bags, honkers, headlights, baps, meat puppets, ta-tas, naturals, boobies, guns, bahama mammas, balloons, bawagos, big brown eyes, blinkers, bobambas, bodacious tatas, bombs, bosom, bosooms, boulders, Bristols, brown suckies, bubatoes, bups, bust, busts, Cadillac bumper bullets, casabas, chest, chuberteens, cones, gedoinkers, doorknobs, floppers, fried eggs, fugis, gams, gazangas, jungle tits, golden bazoos, golden winnebagoes, mounds, mountains, marshmallows, Maguffies, grenadoes, hogans, honkers,itty-bitty-titties, jalobes, bazongoes, bazookas, bazooms, bazoos, ninnies, nips, nupies, pair, nice pair, penis squeezers, beamers, starter buttons, tads, handles, tatas, tittyboppers, bee stings, jiggers, jobes, rolling hills, cup cakes, cushions, dairy section, highbeams, hinyackas, knobs, love apples, love monkeys, luscious scoops of flesh, twins, love warts, watermellons, wazoos, whoppers, winnebagos, yabos, mambas, mammas, mamms, massive mammaries, mazabas, mellons, milk factories, Mcguffies, mosquito bites,perkies, pillows, pimples, pink chewies, rack, set, smosabs, stacked, torpedoes, towel racks.



I'm sure we haven't exhausted all the synonoms for "chesticles" in this list, although I must say I am after reading it! Now the next natural question - for a guy anyway - is who has the biggest ones? Well funny you should ask. I asked myself the same question and went looking (in a manner of speaking) for the answer.


According to WikiAnswers, a lady called Olivia Dear in Wales UK is rumoured to have the biggest in the UK .


Lolo Ferrari (born Eve Valois) appeared in the French Guinness Book of World Records in 1996 and again in the American Guinness Book of World Records in 2003. Her brassiere measurements have been given by various sources as 58F, 54G, and 54J.

Sabrina Sabrok (born March 4, 1977 in Buenos Aires, Argentina) is an Argentine model and television actress. Sabrok is mostly known for her large breasts (small wonder, they each weigh 3.5 kilograms) and her beauty. Sabrina has recently gained attention with her plans to have the world's largest breasts through plastic surgery; she hopes to achieve a bra size of 42XXX.


Tina Small (yeah, right) a British model of the 1980's claimed to measure 84EE OR GG-22-34.


The aptly (or amply) named Chelsea Charms claims to have a 153XXX bust, but no conclusive evidence is shown.


And my two favourites (no pun intended):

Wendy Whoppers claims an 88 EE bust.


And finally, the holder of the Guinness World Record for the "World's Largest Augmented Breasts" is (wait for it) Maxi Mounds .



She approached Guinness in August of 2003, but the category did not yet exist. After creating the category the Guinness organization contacted her to request her measurements and other documentation. She was presented with an official certificate that reads: Maxi Mounds (USA) was measured at Sarasota, Florida, on 4 February 2005 and found to have an under breast measurement of 91.44 cm (36 in) and an around chest-over-nipple measurement of 153.67 cm (60.5 in). She currently wears a US size 42M bra (UK 42J)

Well, that concludes the lesson for today. Ta-tas for now...

Four More Days

US and Them #3

In the midst of the economic debacle that has thrown the very existence of everything from the Big Three automakers in the U.S. to small-town local newscasts in Canada into doubt, it’s heart-warming to see one bright beacon of light in what has become the deep darkness of economic ennui.

Of course I speak of that bankable bastion of boobs, butts and beauty the Miss USA Pageant. Born in 1950, the pageant was taken over by that financial guru cum Barnum and Bailey protégé Donald Trump in 1996. Mr. Trump has managed to successfully turn around the popularity and by association the fortunes of the pageant whose previous claim to fame was a twenty year hosting sojourn by Bob Barker beginning in 1967.

This year’s pageant is seemingly more famous not because of who won but because of who lost. Poor Carrie Prejean, Miss California, basically lost it all when she went up against celebrity judge Perez Hilton, the gay gossip monger extraordinaire. What sealed her fate was his question respecting her opinion regarding gay marriage. She’s not in favour. He wasn’t in favour of her response and demonstrated his reaction in the distinct lack of points he awarded her. She came out runner-up.

Miss Prejean’s 15 minutes of popularity were prolonged, however, when it came to light that she’d posed for some – say it ain’t so – risqué photographs. In a subsequent news conference, which drew about as much attention as the pageant itself – that is to say a lot – Barnum, er, uh, Trump absolved Prejean and allowed her to remain as runner up to Miss USA.

Canadians aren’t all that big on beauty pageants. The only thing that comes close to such high drama here in Canada that I can think of is, oh, uh... cattle judging, maybe. Agricultural shows are quite popular north of the border and where there’s an agricultural show there’s cows. Um, ah, you know, of the animal variety. Let’s take a look at what a judge in this contest looks for, citing Wikipedia as a research source.

Overall carriage is important. The head must be held properly and the neck must be broad, sit evenly on the shoulders and the base be in line with the spine. The head should be in proportion with the rest of the body.

When looking at the legs in an animal, the judge is looking mainly at the structure, and for some muscle.

When looking at the body, the judge wants to see as much rib extension as possible - this means having a large chest area. A long body is desirable because it holds more meat. A large, muscled rump is important, too.

Finally, the udders on females should not be pendulous and the teat size and placement is critical.

In Canada, however, our cattle calls don’t have a Question and Answer component. And I’ve yet to see nubile bovine black and whites. Bessie, your crown would appear to be secure.

Five More Days

I Come To Drink Caesar Not To Praise Him

Bloody Caesar! No that's not an editorial comment on a Shakespearian tragedy. Bloody Caesar is a uniquely Canadian cocktail, invented by a Calgary bartender 40 years ago. The ingredients back then: a mixture of hand-mashed clams, tomato juice, vodka, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper and garnished with a celery stick. Mmm nectar of the gods...well at least of Roman emperors.

The popularity of the drink has been single-handedly responsible for Mott's fruit juice company raking in the revenues after inventing and then mass producing first Clamato juice - a pre-mixed concoction that replaced the hand-mashing of those clams each time the drink is prepared - and subsequently a Mott's Clamato Ready-To-Drink Caesar.

You know, Canada has a long, proud history of inentiveness, associated with our many national symbols. Things like the walkie-talkie, standard time, java programming language, the blackberry, the Canadarm, the electric wheelchair, pablum, and peanut butter.

And now, on the 40th anniversary of it's inception there's a move afoot to make the Bloody Caesar Canada's national cocktail. Yep, there's a petition out there aimed at just that. The aim is to present it to Canada's Parliament and to push for legislation proclaiming the Bloody Caesar Canada's national drink. Of course the petition is sponsored by Mott's. So even if the proclamation efforts aren't successful, I'm sure the resulting publicity won't hurt sales. But, hey, good on ya Mott's! And if their efforts are successful? "Friends, Canadians, countrymen lend me your clamato juice!"

Six More Days

And They All Lived Happily Ever After

A couple of weeks back I participated in a story meme created by several members of Humor Bloggers Dot Com. Remember Wanda, Jackee and the dinosaur dick? (Got your attention?) You know what? The meme is now complete. That's right after all it's tantalizing twists and turns it's completed, concluded, done, down, ended, finished, over, terminated, through, up, accomplished, achieved, attained, compassed, realized; dead, defunct, extinct, obsolete; expired - well, you kinda get the idea.

Hawaiian Pun at Write in the Kisser brought the whole cockamamie thing to a crashing conclusion. If you want you read the whole piece (and I use that word advisedly) from start to finish wander over to his site. You won't regret it. Well you might, but...

May Two-Four

"Today is the Queen's birthday."
"Except it's not."
"Well it's May 24th."
"Except it's not."
"Well ,then what the heck's going on."
"Only in Canada."
"Actually throughout the Commonwealth."




Confused? Your humble servant and hokey historian will attempt to explain. Technically all of the statements above are correct. Today is Victoria Day in Canada, where we observe Queen Victoria's birthday and the current monarch's birthday, even though this isn't really Queen Elizabeth's birthday. Queen Victoria (cute little thing isn't she) ruled the commonwealth for over 60 years, dying in 1901. Her birthday was the 24th of May but in Canada we celebrate it on the Monday before or if Monday falls on the 24th. So this year, it's the 18th of May. We do this so we get our first long weekend of the spring/summer season. Hence, May Two-Four. But in Canada this is a double-entendre because that's the term Canadians apply to a case of 24 beer, many of which are purchased to celebrate the Victoria Day Weekend.

And here's where things get even more interesting. Not only do we celebrate the birthday of a Queen of another country. But we buy beer made by companies from other countries.

Canada's second largest brewer Molson is owned by Coors. So much for it's wildly famous "I Am Canadian" advertising campaign!

The largest brewer in Canada Labatt's is owned by Belgian brewer Interbrew, now known as Anheuser-Busch InBev.

And so my friends, this little story has served to illustrate the quintessential Canadian. We invite ourselves to somebody else's birthday party and drink the other guests beer, eh!

Seven More Days

You'll Have Been Everywhere, Man

Not since Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters has such a group of whacked out weirdos hit the highway. Some folks over at Humor Bloggers Dot Com are jumping aboard a magic bus of mirth and taking a virtual world tour to the cities where a dozen or so blogging buddies reside. Stay tuned in the days to come for updates. Here at nonamedufus we're going to be showcasing Aylmer, Quebec and, just a stone's throw across the river, Canada's capital, Ottawa.

FrankLeeMeiDear is the brains behind the bus tour. He's the creative force behind our trip. Check out his site, I Probably Don't Like You.

And if you want a sneak peek of our wild and wooly ride click here and we'll see you on the bus!

Lead With Your Chin

Editorial cartoonists had a field day last week. Former Prime Minister Brian Mulroney was appearing before a public inquiry into his post-PM business dealings with a German businessman during which Mr. Mulroney received large sums of cash in plain brown envelopes on three occasions. He never admitted to the payments and never payed tax on this income, until something like 5 years later. On one morning of his testimony he was up against the televised proceedings of a Parliamentary Committee reviewing the cicumstances surrounding a Liberal MP's (a very attractive one) possibly employing illegal immigrants as her mother's caregiver. When repeatedly asked why he never admitted to these payments in the past, Mulroney said, "No one asked me the question."

8 More Days

Vee Haf Vays...

Seventies Saturday - Gentle Giant

The focus of this blog is humour. But from time to time we hearken back several decades to revisit fashion and fads (funny in itself) through music, while celebrating birthdays and other events in rock and roll. As well, Fridays on this blog are usually given over to musical groups from the 60s. But today we implement a new feature: Seventies Saturdays.

In the early 70s I discovered a progressive rock group from Britain called Gentle Giant. What attracted me to them wasn't the musical instrumentation so much but rather the vocals. It was a complex madrigal type of singing and the 1972 album "Octopus" caught my ear immediately.

Here's a live medley from that album which I consider to be one of their best...

9 Days

You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

Mary Isabel Catherine Bernadette O'Brien had a hell of a voice. She was a 60s singing sensation, a British bombshell and she went by the name of Dusty Springfield - and I loved her. When Elton John inducted her into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1999, just 10 days after her death, he said, "I think she is the greatest white singer that there ever has been." I'm inclined to agree.

"There's a frood who really knows where his towel is."

The frood in question is Ford Prefect and you have to be a fan of The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, known as H2G2 in some circles, to know where this is leading. You see Douglas Adams, the creator of H2G2, died May 11, 2001 and two weeks later on May 25 the first Towel Day was celebrated to honour Douglas and his fascinating piece of science-fiction.

Why Towel Day? Well, it stems from this excerpt from the book:

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: nonhitchhiker) discovers that a hitchhiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, washcloth, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet-weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitchhiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitchhiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Hence a phrase that has passed into hitchhiking slang, as in "Hey, you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There's a frood who really knows where his towel is." (Sass: know, be aware of, meet, have sex with; hoopy: really together guy; frood: really amazingly together guy.)

You can learn more about plans for Towel Day 2009 at towelday.org and get your towel ready. Towel Day is only 10 days away. Don't Panic!

A Mighty Tap

Today a look at two very funny movies in the "musical mockumentary" genre - if such a genre exists!

This Is Spinal Tap was a 1984 "mockumentary" chronicling the musical adventures of the fictitious heavy metal band Spinal Tap. The movie, co-written and directed by Rob Reiner who also played the part of film maker/director Marti DiBergi a parody of Martin Scorcese, was hilarious. The film starred and was co-written by Michael McKean, Christopher Guest and Harry Shearer.

Here's a hilarious send-up of a heavy metal tune called Big Bottom where, on one level the meaning is very clear and on a more subtle level the "bottom" is underlined by the fact the main band members all play bass guitars, including the bass player who playes a double base!




McKean, Guest and Shearer reunited in 2003's A Mighty Wind another mockumentary, this time around about folk music. This film was co-written and directed by Guest and starred many of the actors who had starred in Tap and in the subsequent series of "improvisational" films Waiting For Guffman and Best in Show. Here's a clip of McKean, Guest and Shearer as The Folksmen performing "Old Joe's Place":

Well, We Can Always Dream...

Good Lovin'

They were known variously as the Rascals and Young Rascals and they had a string of hits from the mid-60s to the early 70s. Vocalists Eddie Brigati (vocals) and Felix Cavaliere (keyboard, vocals) are probably the better known members of the group but Gene Cornish was responsible for an essential element of the group's sound on guitar. I was aware of Gene Cornish because he was born in my hometown of Ottawa, Canada in 1946. Happy Birthday, Gene. Here's a familiar tune...

Mom's Just Hangin' Out

merci

Bacon In Eggs

Hard Boiled Bacon?

merci

Buy Online

merci

Ah, The Good Old Days

The Problem With Confined Spaces

merci Ray

Vive La Difference

It's all in the punctuation:

An English professor wrote the words, "Woman without her man is nothing" on the blackboard and directed his students to punctuate it correctly.

The men wrote: "Woman, without her man, is nothing."

The women wrote: "Woman: Without her, man is nothing."

Huh?

Now if they have a brand that adds eggs and orange juice you can have a complete breakfast!

found at bakonvodka.com

Truth

I'd Like To Teach The World To...

I Hate When That Happens

Looking Out For #1

How Money Multiplies

US and Them #2

Is it the majority of politicians who are corrupt? Or are there just a few who give the rest a bad name? I seem to ask myself this question with increasing frequency, each time the latest “sleazeball’s” questionable activities get splashed across the interwebs. (Perhaps I just answered my own question.)

Look at these two guys: Prince Charming with not a hair out of place and Lex Luthor with not a hair.

How could two such dissimilar douches be so alike? They’re politicians!

South of the border a recent case involving scuzzy activity concerned “Blago”. That’s the name used by the media to describe former Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich. What was he charged with ? Oh nothing much, just: conspiracy to commit mail and wire fraud and solicitation of bribery. That’s the formal Justice Department complaint that alleges that the governor conspired to commit several "pay-to-play” schemes, including attempting to sell Barack Obama’s vacated Senate seat to the highest bidder.

We’re not immune to similar shenanigans north of the border. In court this week is Larry O’Brien, the mayor of Ottawa, Canada’s capital city. The local media, intent on showing respect, call him “Larry the Mayor Guy”. And what’s he charged with? Kind of a “pay-to-not-play” , if you will. He’s charged with influence peddling in his alleged attempt to buy off an opponent in his electoral bid with cash and a federal appointment.

These two cases, while in separate countries point to the seamy, sleazy similarities that a sizeable chunk of the electorate, I’m afraid, perceives exist in the wonderful world of politics. And both these guys, while faced with criminal charges and public opinion in favour of them stepping down, clung to office instead of doing the noble thing. Blago was finally impeached and now awaits his reality show break, confident he won’t do prison time. Larry the Mayor Guy only took a leave of absence to appear in court this week, confident he’ll soon be back wearing the chain of office again as opposed to breaking his back working on the chain gang.

Ah politics, the more America (and Canada) wants change, the more things remain the same.

RIM Co-owner Wants to Buy, Move Phoenix Coyotes

Keep On Truckin'

Today is Allman Brothers Band drummer Butch Trucks' 62nd birthday. Butch was actually one of a duo of drummers in the band. And Butch's nephew is the incredibley accomplished guitarist Derek Trucks who plays with the modern-day Allmans. I saw him in concert touring with Eric Clapton. He also fronts his own band, the Derek Trucks Band and is married to blues singer/guitarist Susan Tedeschi. Uncle Butch, happy birthday. Here's the Allman Brothers classic Ramblin' Man, featurung Dicky Betts on lead guitar and surviving Allman brother Gregg on organ. Duane Allman, who played with Eric Clapton in Derek and the Dominos(Layla, etc.), died in a motorcycle accident in 1971.

"Real" HDTV

Here's an ad with a little something for everyone. It stars model Gisele Bundchen (wife of Patriots' QB Tom Brady) and includes football (natch), a little Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon action and even Zombies (ya hear that Quirky?!). Oh yeah, and it's selling HDTVs. Sit back and enjoy this innovative ad...

Multiple Births

Four best friends met at the hospital since their wives were giving births to their babies. The nurse comes up to the first man and says, "Congratulations, you have twins." The man says "How strange, I'm the manager of the Minnesota Twins."

After awhile the nurse comes up to the second man and says, "Congratulations, you have triplets." The man was like "Hmmm, strange I worked as a director for the "3 Musketeers."

Finally, the nurse comes up to the third man and says "Congratulations, you have two sets of twins." The man is happy and says, "Ironic, I work for the hotel "4 Seasons."

All three of them are happy until they see their last buddy jumping all over the place, cursing God and banging his head on the wall. They ask him what's wrong and he answers, "What's wrong? I work for 7up"!

Business Update - IKEA To Take Over GM

IKEA HAS ANNOUNCED IT'S INTENTION TO TAKE OVER GM, AND TO SELL CARS.

WE ARE IN DEEP, DEEP SHIT....

merci Bernard

Men and Women

A doctor examining a woman who had been rushed to the Emergency Room, took the husband aside, and said, "I don't like the looks of your wife at all.” "Me neither doc," said the husband. "But she's a great cook and really good with the kids."

Cannibal Canoes

Cannibals capture three men. The men are told that they will be skinned and eaten and then their skin will be used to make canoes. Then they are each given a final request.

The first man asks to be killed as quickly and painlessly as possible. His request is granted, and they poison him.

The second man asks for paper and a pen so that he can write a farewell letter to his family. This request is granted, and after he writes his letter, they kill him saving his skin for their canoes.

Now it is the third man's turn. He asks for a fork. The cannibals are confused, but it is his final request, so they give him a fork. As soon as he has the fork he begins stabbing himself all over and shouts,

"To hell with your canoes!"

Catch The Wind

He was huge in the 60s, at one point giving Bob Dylan a run for his money as the most popular folk artist of his time. Today is Donovan's birthday. He's 63. And here is one of his more thoughtful tunes, his first ever release in March 1965. It reached #4 in the UK and #23 in the US.

Happy Mother's Day

This weekend we celebrate Mother's Day. When I was a kid, and both my parents were still alive, I often wondered why they got a special day. You know: Mother's Day, Father's Day. For that matter, everyone got a day - St. Patrick, St George, Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, $1.99 and hot cross buns (oh that $1.99 day was so popular a whole bunch of stores turned it into 365 days a year, and that last one I think was actually Easter) - everyone except kids. Of course, now that I'm older I've come to realize every day was kid's day in my house. Thanks, Mom. And happy Mother's Day. I miss you.

Meanwhile, for the rest of you...

Things My Mom Taught Me

1. My Mother taught me about ANTICIPATION...

"Just wait until your father gets home."

2. My Mother taught me about RECEIVING....

"You are going to get it when we get home!"

3. My Mother taught me to MEET A CHALLENGE...

"What were you thinking? Answer me when I talk to you! Don't talk back to me!"

4. My Mother taught me LOGIC...

"If you fall out off that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."

5. My Mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE...

"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."

6. My Mother taught me to THINK AHEAD...

"If you don't pass your spelling test, you'll never get a good job."

7. My Mother taught me HUMOR...

"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."

8. My Mother taught me how to BECOME AN ADULT...

"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."

9. My Mother taught me about GENETICS...

"You're just like your father."

10. My Mother taught me about my MY ROOTS...

"Do you think you were born in a barn?"

11. My Mother taught me about WISDOM OF AGE...

"When you get to be my age, you will understand.

"And last but not least...

12. My Mother taught me about JUSTICE...

"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you....Then you'll see what it's like!"

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Adam and Eve on Facebook

Click to enlarge:

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I Can Name That Tune...

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They're Doing It Wrong

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Just Hangin' Out

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Unclear On The Concept

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Science In Everyday Life

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Travelin' Man

Our 60s act this week actually first achieved success on the pop charts in the 50s. And today, coincidentally enough, is his birthday. The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet was an American television sit-com, airing for 14 years beginning in 1952, following a successful run on radio.



Rock and roll heart-throb Ricky (later just "Rick") Nelson grew up on that show. Nelson was a popular performer in the late 50s, second only to Elvis. Today would have been his 69th birthday. Sadly Ricky Nelson died in a 1985 plane crash. But he left a string of hits behind, including this gem from 1961...



Nelson could have made a living as a rock n roll revival act continuing to sing his back catalogue of hits like Travelin' Man but that wasn't for him. In fact, when he played contemporary tunes at a 50s RnR revival concert at Madson Square Garden in 1971 he was booed off the stage. But Nelson got the last laugh. The incident inspired him to write the hit Garden Party...

Blazing Saddles

This is one of Mel Brooks' funniest films. It's full of delightful jokes, puns and double-entendres. But one of the funniest scenes in the film was virtually silent...silent but deadly!

Same Old, Same Old

Has It Come To This?

Steven Tyler's Secret Is Out

He's Still the Same

Today we wish Happy 64th Birthday to Robert Clark Seger. Better known as "Bob", Seger had a string of hits throughout the 70s and beyond.

"Old Time Rock and Roll" is one of Seger's most recognizable songs, long associated with Tom Cruise dancing in his underwear in the 1983 film Risky Business.

"Still the Same" is the first single off his 1978 album Stranger in Town.

US and Them #1

Being a Canadian living in the shadow of our neighbours to the south isn’t easy. We do take comfort from time to time while, being bombarded by American television programming, in watching U.S. weather forecasters bemoan another cold front moving down from Canada. Yeah, that’s about the only time Americans are willing to concede Canadian Arctic sovereignty, or even mention us by name!

While there are many similarities between us, there are also differences. I’ve decided to launch a series of posts to draw your attention to some of these differences. The posts will appear from time to time and be called, with apologies to Pink Floyd, “US (for obvious reasons) and Them (for less obvious reasons because them is us Canadians)”.

You know I’ve heard it said there’s no big difference between us. Canadians, after all, are Americans without the guns. And I'm glad I heard that because it a nice segue into my first post in this series.
The following headline on cnn.com caught my eye yesterday: AMMO HARD TO FIND AS GUN OWNERS STOCK UP.

What the heck? Is anarchy running amok in the USA? Are there deep discounts on straw bales, empty beer cans and pop bottles? Is there a burgeoning black market in bootlegged bullets?

My first response was: "What's with the retro-infatuation with Steve McQueen?"

"You talkin' to me?" (Sorry, wrong movie.)

My second response was: “Oh my God, this over-reaction to the swine flu is really getting out of hand”. And then I read the first paragraph:

Gun shops across the country are reporting a run on ammunition, a phenomenon apparently driven by fear that the Obama administration will increase taxes on bullets or enact new gun-control measures.

And just how bad is the bounty less bullet situation? Read on...

Two weeks ago, The Firing Line was forced to impose a four-box-per-customer limit on ammo. Before that, the shop was selling 10,000 rounds of 9 mm handgun ammunition a day. Some calibers of ammunition have been unavailable for months.

10,000 rounds a day? What the heck? And who the heck is buying so many bullets and why; what do they intend to do with them? Are they expecting a rash of burglaries? Or is it the burglars trying to get a jump on everyone else, hoarding all the bullets. Here’s how the NRA explains it:

Andrew Arulanandam, communications director of the National Rifle Association, says the "unprecedented ammo shortages are widespread, and they affect small and large retailers."
"We have heard from members across the country in cities and in small towns from California to Maine," Arulanandam says. "There is a fear that Congress or the new administration will push for a firearm or an ammunition ban...”

Now why would some people - a lot apparently, ‘cause there’s a shortage - spend all that money on something that may soon be banned? Hmmm...

Here, in Canada, of course, we find it’s cheaper, and a tad safer, not to mention more fashionable, to stockpile T-shirts as we demonstrate our right to bare arms!

Don't Panic

The avatar for my blog pretty much sums up my approach to life. As I get older I'm not quite so quick to react to things about me. Now sure that's due in part to an aging body that's not quite a temple anymore (like it ever was?) and in part to a mind that wanders at the slightest provocation. But what I mean is that over the years I've slipped into a more laissez-faire, "shit happens" state of mind. I react less and less in the knee-jerk fashion of my youth. These days, "Don't Panic" works for me.
It's also a tip of the hat to Douglas Adams who utilized the phrase in his brilliantly funny "trilogy in five parts" The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Lately, though, it's become harder and harder to hold on to this ideal...

Dom DeLuise Succumbs to Kidney Failure

Comedian, movie and television star Dom DeLuise died today. He was 75. He is probably best known for starring in a string of films with buddy Burt Reynolds; together they appeared in the films The Cannonball Run and Cannonball Run II, Smokey and the Bandit II, The End, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas and All Dogs Go to Heaven. Here's a clip of outakes with Dom from Cannonball Run. R.I.P. Dom DeLuise...

Twittermongering

Thanks Wirecutter

Oh Diego Boy

Obama Walking A Fine Line

Age Old Question Answered

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Take This Job...

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Why Instant Replays Are Needed In Tennis

Bush vs, Barrack

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Lincoln Takes Off

Uh, nope not that one. I'm talking about the car that's named after him.


You know, car makers spend a bundle on advertising. It's surprising, perhaps, given their precarious financial situation that the advertising budgets of the Big 3 are so huge. Then again, I guess you have to spend money to make money and nothing drives (no pun intended) customers in like television ads.


Over the last couple of years Lincoln has run some smart, catchy ads. It's their, what I like to call, "take off" series of ads: black and white and cool music that hearkens us back to the early days of the space program while propelling us forward to the future of cars.


For example, first there was a Lincoln commercial featuring Cat Power doing David Bowie's Space Oddity...



Then it was Major Tom (Coming Home) by Shiny Toy Guns...



And finally it was Daft Punk doing Technologic...



I think these commercials are kinda cool. They always make me sit up and take notice when they come on. And this one's just for fun. It's not an ad, but it's about a Lincoln. It's Asleep At The Wheel doing Hot Rod Lincoln...

The Hardest Working Man In Show Business

He would have been 76 years of age today. He died 3 years ago at the age of 73 - the hardest working man in show business. Who am I talking about? Well he was called many things:
Soul Brother Number One
Sex Machine
Mr. Dynamite
The Hardest Working Man in Show Business
The King of Funk
Minister of The New New Super Heavy Funk
Mr. Please Please Please Please Her
The Boss, and foremost
The Godfather of Soul.

I'm talkin' about James Brown. Here's a most unique version of It's A Man's World - a song Brown made his own - this time sung with, of all people, Pavarotti. It's an unlikely pairing but it'll give you goosebumps - it did me. Enjoy...

Pearls Before Swine

A Humor Bloggers Dot Com Story Meme

Those hopeless humour hacks at Humor Bloggers Dot Com are at it again. This time around they’ve recruited members to participate in a story meme where one member starts us off and successive members continue the story. The tale has taken some interesting twists and turns along the way. See for yourself...

(Mind of Spaz) Wanda was always confused. Not about work, because she loved what she was doing. Not about her friends or her hobbies, because her social life was great. It wasn't her looks either, because she was tall, lean and had an absolutely perfect rack, the best money could buy. No, Wanda was confused because she has a penis.

(The Shark Tank) It had come wrapped in several layers of newspaper, stuffed into a tube typically reserved for delivering posters. It wasn't just any penis, either. Judging from its length (11.2 inches), scent (formaldahyde and tree sap), and coloring (burnt sienna), it had belonged to T. horridus and dated back to the late Cretaceous. In layman's terms, it was the penis of a Triceratops. Standing in her driveway, watching as the UPS guy hopped back into his truck and flipped down the visor, Wanda said something she'd thought many times before, but never said aloud.

"It's smaller than I thought it would be."

(Venom, Secrets, & Lies) Wanda headed into her garage, hoping to quell her nerves with some mundane gardening chores. Her mind was lurching around inside her skull and she worried what message was being sent to her with the arrival of the big, old, stinky, discoloured penis.


Wanda had been receiving anonymous, unsolicited gifts for the past few weeks, and the packages had gone from innocent to strange and, now, bizarre. The first gift was flattering & intriguing. Wanda had excused herself momentarily from the table where she was lunching with her sister, she returned to find a single, exquisite orchid across her plate, its' stem wrapped in a napkin with the message

'? from Your Secret Admirer ?'

written across it in a very fine hand. Her sister had been busy flirting with a busboy when the flower appeared & no one else had noticed or cared. Wanda had tucked the blossom behind her ear and worn it there in her hair all day long; she'd had no thought at all that Secret Admirer might be code for Crazy Stalker.

(The Offended Blogger) Of course, deep down Wanda knew that due to the fact that she had sustained numerous head injuries during rough sex over the years, she couldn't trust her own judgment or fully rely on her instincts. And given her history with those of the penile persuasion, including more than one romp on an expensive, leather couch with a tall, dark, handsome psychiatrist at the Center for Recovering Sex Addicts, she knew that someone might end up hurt.

She was also acutely aware that although she had mastered the art of projecting an angelic image which easily lured in the opposite sex, she had yet to conquer her sociopathic, nymphomaniac tendencies and lately found herself daydreaming about things like cannibalism and necrophilia.

Sure, the thought of a well hung secret admirer sending her taboo sexual gifts appealed to her deviant nature, but she had been down this road before and on more than one occasion it had turned out badly for her unassuming, love stricken victim and had nearly led to her own ruin.

Once it had even led her half way around the world where she ended up dismembering and depositing her heavily accented My Space admirer into the murky waters of the Rhine and was forced to work in a seedy German sex club as a towel girl just to earn enough Deutschmarks for the trip back to the states....

(AmyOops) But on her journey back, she learned in Belguim the dont deutschmarks to open the toliets. So here she was strandend in a strange country and had to use the bathroom.

Oh whats a girl to do....

( Ettarose) She did the only thing she could think to do. She hiked her skirt up and grabbing her naughty parts, let loose with a long perfectly aimed stream of pee that went up over the cracked wooden stall door and gave a satisfying groan as she heard it hit her mark. “Hey!” someone yelled from the other side of the locked door. “Watch who the hell you are pissing on you skank!” Wanda was so startled she lost her concentration and as her pee dribbled down her legs and soaked her bobby socks. The door slammed open and there stood the biggest, hairiest lesbian Wanda had ever seen. “Where did you learn to do that?” she asked in awe as Wanda’s piss dripped off her nose. Oh great Wanda thought, now what?

(Lady Sarcasm) Wanda thought that it she played up on the woman's (?) awe, that she could charm her way right out of this hot mess. "I was a model for the P-mate, and eventually I showed them I could do it without a P-mate, so I was fired." Wanda explained. "Why I'll be!" said the burly lesbian known as Jackee. Jackee's awe was short lived Wanda noticed. Jackee was stepping forward. "That model thing was kind of cute, but what are you going to do about the fact that you just pissed all over me huh?" asked Jackee. Wanda immediately thought of that formaldahyde and tree sap smelling Triceratops penis...

I, unfortunately, have been holding up the progression of the story since about Wednesday due to computer problems. So without further delay...

“Do you wanna?” asked Wanda. “Do I wanna what?” countered Jackee. “Do you wanna foot long?” clarified Wanda. “No honey, I don’t go that way” exclaimed Jackee. “No, no” said a weary Wanda, “Do you wanna foot long for five bucks?” “Hey! shouted Jackee, “I won’t go there at any price!” Disappointed, Wanda quelled the rumblings in her tummy. She’d had her heart set on that steak and mushroom foot-long submarine sandwhich at Subway.

To subtly shift the subject of speech Wanda whispered “I absolutely adore alliteration”. “Some would say so” joked Jackee. “Oh, did I say that outloud” wondered Wanda, “Sorry”.

“I have a penis” proclaimed Wanda. “And I thought I was hiding something” retorted Jackee. “No, no” said Wanda, “It’s not mine – it belonged to a Triceratops. Here, look.”

“Oh my it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before” sighed Jackie. “Yeah, I can’t imagine you’ve seen many penises, eh?” queried (no pun intended – queer-eed) Wanda.

But that’s where Wanda was wrong (no alliteration intended). It turned out Jackee was not only of the poetess Sappho persuasion, she was also... (rimshit followed by cymbals)(hey, this is a cheap meme, not a big budget hollywood suspense thriller) ...a palaeontologist!!!

“Au contraire” parlayed Jackie – because not only was she a gay palaeontologist, but she came from gay Pa-ree!!! “I have seen many pre-historic penises, just never one this small or one this bleu, sacre!”

“Hmmm,” Wanda thought, “That’s the first time I’ve heard a big dyke complain about a small dick!”

Now on with the meme - Next Up: Out Of The Mouth Of Dave

Dani Dear Dani – A Roast by nonamedufus

Last week, a select group of folks from Humour Bloggers Dot Com were selected to "roast" their colleagues. My roastee was Dani C, she of Not An Effin Mom Blog fame. She's supposed to post this on her blog but as my laptop was biting the dust this week one of Dani's munchkins was pouring Hawiian Tropical Fruit Punch down her keyboard. So we'll post it here and hope Dani can get it up over there soon - uh, er, I didn't mean that how it sounds...

Question: What well-known blogger is sweet and demure, considerate and understated, diplomatic and refined?
Answer: Not you, Miss Crazy-Dani-Whack-Job-Not-A-Mommy-Blogger!

Oh, no, you’re anything butt, er, ah but... Why do I keep coming back to your blog? Am I a masochist? Do I love pain? Do I enjoy seeing pain bluntly inflicted upon others about as subtly as my dentist, Dr. Jeckyl, doing a root canal?

And who are you anyway? That kissy, smiley, pouty, smirky picture of you has me mesmerized (well the kissy part).

So you’re a nurse working nights married to a cop working days and yet you have SIX children. How did that happen? More to the point: when?! Well at least between the two of you, you’ll keep them on the straight and narrow and in blood and marrow (that’s the best rhyme I could think of).

So tell me, why’s your blog “not an effin mom blog”. Does that mean it’s (choose one):
- An ebbin flow blog
- An eggin us on blog
- An ellin Degeneres blog
- An emmin, el oh, pee blog
- A boy from eppin-ee-ma blog
- An essin em blog
Well in some respects this is an s&m blog – but let’s not go there! Instead let’s go to your “Mom’s That I Can’t Stand” series. Hey, Whack Job, who died and made you Joan Crawford?! (By the way I’ve got some pictures of my blinking baby picking his nose while doing little poopies that I’d just love to show you.)

And, like, why am I so preoccupied with your breasts? (Er, ah, oops, sorry, that should read why are YOU so preoccupied with your breasts.)

Finally, Whack-Dani, your momma should wash your keyboard out with soap (or fruit juice – ha!)! It’s “eff” this and “eff” that and “eff” off and “eff” you... here an eff there an eff everywhere an eff, eff. Why, you even encourage commenters to effin rant and you present the effin winner with an EFF YOU award. Wow, you’re pretty eff-usive with your effs. Just sayin’.

Well that about does it Dani. This roast is toast. I’ve gotta say in all seriousness that I actually love your “effin” blog. I think it may have sumpin’ to do with your charming self-defecating sense of humour (in other words: “shit, yer funny”). Gotta go. Got a root canal scheduled with Dr. Jeckyl.

Be sure and visit Dani at http://www.momscrazylife.com/

Shazzam!

And we're back ladies and gentlemen. Four days ago my old laptop bit the biscuit. After unsuccessfully trying mouth-to-mouth on my hard drive, (it wasn't what it sounds like) I gave up my efforts, weeped uncontrollably at it's grave side and held my breath and went with this year's model. Gone are my bookmarks, my pictures, my music, my everything. It's a new beginning.

I gotto go now, folks. But I'll be back soon, catching up on my outstanding commitments. First up my "roast" of fellow "Humor Blogger Dot Com" blogger Dani Whack Job. And after that I'll catch you up pn the Humor Bloggers' story meme Stay tuned!