Tuesday, April 23, 2013

"You won't get it!"

Okay, kats and kittens, here are more authentic Indian curios from the country music home of Conway twitter:
"Shall we discuss semantics?"  "No, no.  I'd rather just talk about it."  (I hope you don't consider this joke anti-semantic.)
Kurt to Bertolt: "Living Weill is the best revenge."
Arlen Specter died before the Presidential Election in 2012.  Pity.  He could have come up with the Single Ballot Theory.
One of the Heartbreakers recently arrested.  It was a Petty crime.
"1, 2, 3," sighs!  "4, 5, 6," sighs!  "7, 8, 9," sighs!  "10, 11, 12," she added.  Remember folks!  It's not only sighs that counts!
The Face of the Party Looks Up To You from the Bottom of the Bowl: "Turdblossom 2016." 
I once knew a livestock farmer named Familiarity.  I've forgotten what he used to breed.
Eighties Music for the Elderly: The Cure-mudgeon.
Herr Drosselmeyer is the Humbert Humbert of ballet.
When bankers have a health emergency, they shout, "Get me a Medici!" 
While watching the series about the Borgia family, I kept wondering, "Where is the piano playing son, Victor?"
If you think you are as great as Genghis Khan was, then you are probably suffering from mongolmania.
I have a fear of the unincorporated area in Los Angeles County known as Agoura.  I wonder if this phobia has a name.
I am a shell of my former shell.
I am running out of sand.
I would take the gas pipe if I didn't live in an All Electric Home.
Otherwise, I'm fine... :)

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

"Monsters from the Id."

Have started a video rental business called RUDE BOX.  Hidden inside the crimson kiosk, I insult the unwary customer's lowbrow Nicolas Cage selection.  Embarrassed, they take with great regret, some IFC release of Euro-trash, which is masqueraded as a weighty, intellectual, philosophical journey of the soul, but is in reality just a perve-E film of older men fondling younger unclad women...usually in France, Italy or Australia.
Pleased... that once again, I have ruined another battered down worker ant's desire for mindless entertainment, I laugh, cryptically...concealed with the deep bowels of my red re-Tardis like kiosk.
My Superior Taste has mocked the tragic peon, who had been eyeing the nine new Danny Trejo films that had been just released this week.  They HAVE to be good, or why would they release so many?  Ditto Ray Liotta, Tom Sizemore and Michael Madsen.  But I digress...
There are never enough films made about zombies, serial killers and drug deals gone bad.
"What's THE SCARIEST FILM you have?"  If I had a dollar for each time this is asked.  "Anything with Mary-Kate and Ashley,"  I reply on cue...the effect on the customer like being slapped in the face with a freshly caught ahi ahi.
Or, I love it when they bring up the torture-porn horror film and it's Romanian:  "You know this film is foreign," I say, sounding like Peter Lorre before kidnapping a child.  "But it IS in English?" they ask, in bug-eyed horror.  "It has subtitles...(I pause...for effect, like Clifton Webb)...in ENGLISH."
"You mean I have TO READ IT?" they sputter.
Oh, how I love that bit.  :)

Monday, April 1, 2013

"And are there two Gs in 'Bugger Off!'?"

Good Idea?/ Bad Idea?   Nudist Camps for the Blind.

Turhan Bey.  Doris Day.  Alice Faye.  Charles Gray.  Ricky Jay.  Danny Kaye.  Frito Lay.  I.M. Pei.  Aldo Ray.  Anton LaVey.  I don't get the connection, but if you repeat these names out loud, people will give you space.

Genitalgenesisaphobia: Fear of the testicles of Phil Collins.
For some unknown reason, The Third Man was never the Mystery Guest on "What's My Lime?"
Doctor Frankenstein's lab equipment would often malfunction if it was on the Fritz.
What Ravi Shankar's doctor once told him:  "Take 2 Tablas and call me in the morning."
The great Indian musician once considered opening a restaurant that served Italian-Mexican cuisine.  He called it Ravi Ole!
I am a Mitral Valve Prolapse Progressive.
A Thighnote is like a Footnote, only higher up.
Bieberlieberphobia:  A fear of German boy band groupies.
Have read the latest book on director Alfred Crotchitch, "The Master of Suspenders."  It seems all his films were rooted in his mania of ill-fitting trouser angst.  As a portly man, his fears were deep seated.  From "The Man Who Grew To Much," "Rear Pocket" to "Torn Cotton," the obsessions are all too obvious.
Did Joan Plowright in Gracie Fields?
When it comes to food, was Eydie really a Gorme?
Stammer Films re-releasing, "Ras-pu-pu-pu-tin, the Ma-ma-ma-mad Monk."
China's most underrated playwright was George Bernard Rikshaw.
An unfortunate typo helped ban Jules Verne's "20,000 Legs Under the Sea."
South America is lovely this time of year.  Hasta lumbago, everyone!