Laughing at my nightmares...

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Do you like cocoa?

Yes we do.

How about some cheese and friend potatoes?

Making paper airplanes in other languages is the secret to dividing fractions

Don't forget that you brush your teeth and it's not the other way around

Find the buried treasure using the map and you'll win the prize of friendship!!!

Hooray for hot air ballon rides through tunnels of cotton candy!

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brought to you by literature.

 
 

The Wanderer of the Night...

 

    Jon Richman wandered the night.  The rain poured down from the sky like spit from an old man’s corn cob pipe.  He wandered the streets alone, lost in his thoughts.  Why hadn’t he seen it coming?  Could he ever be forgiven?  Will the cast of the Facts of Life ever fight the cast of Seinfeld in a no holds barred bounce house water balloon fight on Pay-Per-View?

    As he walked the streets the lights shined down on him; the lights gave him strength and reminded him he was alive.  A penguin holding a sign that said “The End is Nigh!!!!” asked him if he had a cigarette.

    “What do I look like? A foreign policy advisor?” replied Jon.

    He had no time to be dealing with birds that don’t fly needing nicotine whilst proclaiming the apocalypse is upon us.  He had a mission.  He had a purpose.  He had a sandwich at home in the fridge.  The rain stopped for a second and then came back even harder as if Mother Nature was saying, gotcha.  He was reminded of the time a high school teacher of his brought in a hula hoop to demonstrate that no matter how hard one tries, some things just can’t be learned and one has to accept that and get a job as a janitor.

    As a car drove by the passenger leaned out the window asking people to throw money at him.  One person threw a shoe, two others threw rocks.  The man in the car was a resurrected Abraham Lincoln.  The men who threw rocks were Henry Kissinger and Lloyd Bridges.  Jon thought about asking for their autographs but realized he had no time and should save his energy for the journey through his soul he was about to partake.  Jon Richman had no time to waste; he could no longer delay the inevitable choice ahead of him.  He continued onward into the dark abyss that was the darkened Earth.

    An acoustic guitar was being played in the distance.  The raindrops seemed to amplify the sound in a way that reminded him of his favorite television show as a child, CHIPS.  Erik Estrada could be stopped by no man.  He was all a hero should be and nothing else.  Then Jon Richman realized that whoever was playing the acoustic guitar was playing the Twilight Zone theme and that just made him sad.  The kind of sad that could only be cured by powdered doughnuts and brazilian coffee.  

    “Oh why do you tempt me fate, you foul temptress!”  Jon Richman screamed

    “Why must I bear this burden!”  he screamed again.

    “Gorgonzola cheese should never be put into a VCR!”  Jon advised loudly.

    He made the final turn down the alley and came to the point he had been fearing his entire night journey of darkness.  The moment was upon him, the time had come.  At the end of this alley were two doors.  Each of them led to very different places, places he could not come back from once he made his choice.  He stood and stared at the doors.  On one door was the periodic table of the elements drawn in ketchup and on the other, a poster of Shirley Temple with her head replaced with that of Zach Galifianakis.

    He breathed in, he sighed, he made his choice.

And the night wanderer was gone... 

Jon Spindrake, Space Ranger

It is the year 3156:

    Flying through the wilds of the cosmos in his rocket powered jet fighter plane our hero, Jon Spindrake, is on patrol.  He is a member of an elite squadron of space protectors, The Universe Rangers.  These men and women have vowed to protect all that is good in the universe from all that is evil, and validate parking.  Armed only with his wits, courage, and two nuclear powered diamond tipped laser blasters, Jon Spindrake fights the good fight, ever vigilante against evil.

    On this day Jon is doing his usual patrol out by the Googleplexian Systems and everything was going normally.  He had his space coffee with extra sugar from the mines of the laser planets, his patrol ship was running perfectly, and he hadn’t forgotten his favorite pen, not a thing was wrong on this fine morning.

    THEN SOMETHING WENT HORRIBLY WRONG!!! 

    He was attacked by space pirates from the planet Mumratha, a despicable place that smells like space puke and is home to only the foulest of smelling criminals.  They had been cloaked and came out of it to shoot their class 5 laser rocket torpedoes at Jon Spindrake from a most cowardly angle.  Luckily, Jon Spindrake’s laser space shields can withstand up to a class 7 laser rocket torpedo, so he was not destroyed, and was able to take evasive maneuvers to fight back against the space barf inducing scum.  He ran a sigma 9 alpha pattern to give him a more heroic attack position against the space pirates and returned fire with his own class 5 laser torpedoes, but these had five ounces of justice and integrity added to them.  Just enough to not only damage the space pirates ship, but to make them angry.  Angry at themselves for the way of life they have chosen.  The space pirates immediately cloaked and took a more secretive and less dignified position, coming out with their laser cutters firing this time.  Jon Spindrake’s ship shook with the shear cowardice of those laser cutters.  Switching to attack pattern 5 tetra paladin Jon Spindrake shot back with his d20 + agility lasers and hit the the main weapons array on the space pirate ship.

    With their ship’s weapons now as impotent as their future the space pirates cloaked their ship and sped away to one day attack cowardly again.  Not without first shaking their fists and cursing Jon Spindrake for his superior intellect and hygiene.

    Jon Spindrake breathed a sigh of relief and went back to sipping his space coffee.  He hadn’t spilt any thanks to the heroic-ness of his space flying.  Beginning his flight back to the Universe Rangers headquarters for repairs to his ship, Jon Spindrake decided to sing the Universe Rangers theme song to celebrate his victory.

Universe Rangers!

Fighting for and protecting the universe!

Making it safe and making it fun!

Validating parking and fighting evil space scum!

We are the Universe Rangers!

We have laser blasters and awesome hair!

We are the good guys and we’ll always be there!

Universe Rangers!

Being the good guys is mission number one!

Stopping space piracy is also on the agenda!

Universe Rangers!

Exclamation points show how serious we are!

Universe Rangers!

Universe Rangers!

Universe Rangers!

We are good guys and we’ll always be there!

Deer-Head Trial Lawyer

"I object!" screamed Ted. A small amount spit came from his deer mouth as he stood up to decry such outrageous claims against his client.
"On what grounds?" asked Mark, the douchebag big city lawyer in his chameleon skin suit.
"As a lawyer and man with a deers head I take great offense at the accusation that my client was listening to ABBA records whilst knitting. I have clearly established, with an alibi mind you, that at the time of the crime my client was at home making pineapple flavored yogurt and watching Jeopardy. You have no proof to present to the court and frankly are making a mockery of our judicial system."
"Do you even know what a pineapple is Ted? It's a communist fruit. Clear and simple. Take that liberal agenda of yours and place it in your glovebox to be forgotten about until the next time you get pulled over by the fashion police." said Mark with a douchebag smile on his face that could make Margaret Thatcher tell him to eat shit and die.
The judges gavel came crashing down with a crash that could silence Rosie O'Donnell.
"Gentlemen, I will not have my court turned into a mockery of a farce of our legal system. Control yourselves or else I will be forced to recess these hearings until tomorrow. Unless, you wanna get some kind of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome kind of thing going? Which, to be honest, I'm kind of into. Two men enter, one man leave? Huh?"
"I don't think that will be necessary your honor." said Ted.
"Alright, too bad." said the judge with a sigh. "Let's get back to the case at hand. Now, Mark you claim the accused used a Super Mario Bros 2 cartridge to prop up a paint can on top of a door so that it would fall onto the head of the next person who walked through that door. Correct?"
"Um, no your honor. That's not it at all."
"Oh. It's not?" asked the judge. "Damn, I've got to stop trying to organize my Survivor DVD's at the bench. What have you guys been talking about for the last forty five minutes?"
"Allow me to interject your honor." said Ted. His online law degree instinct was telling him that now was the time to try and win over the judge. He hadn't been paying attention to anything Mark had been saying. This was the perfect time to bring out the big guns and win this case.
"My client is accused of listening to 70's Swedish pop music and knitting a hand grenade to kill the President with. It is my defense that he was not involved in such acts and was actually at home creating a recipe for homemade pineapple yogurt and watching Jeopardy with his mother. Now, don't let my deers head on a mans body fool you. I'm not going to get stuck in any headlights here. I have here to present to the court clear and conclusive evidence that my client is innocent."
"And what evidence is that?" asked Mark in that snarky kind of way only real jerks know how to do. You know, the kind of jerks that park their BMW in a handicapped space and then run inside because it's no big deal. Jerk.
"My client is colorblind." Ted spoke, then pausing, allowing the room to go silent for dramatic purposes. He'd always wanted to do that ever since graduating from Carl's Online Law School and Dried Meat of the Month Club.
"I rest my case." He finished with remembering that you gotta say that at the end when you're done.
The judge sighed and stared down at his bench. At first Mark and Ted couldn't tell what it was the judge was sighing about. Was it Ted's evidence or the fact that he couldn't find his Jeff Probst's Biggest Bloopers companion DVD? Unfortunately for Ted, it was his evidence.
"That has to be one of the most idiotic things I've ever heard and I watch reality TV ten hours a day. Being color blind has nothing to do with wether or not your client likes such sweet, sweet pop music. Obviously, you are new at this Ted. So, I will give you some advice. On your next case actually do some research and provide evidence that can prove your clients innocence. That is probably the best place to start. I find the accused guilty of attempted hand-knitted grenade murder. The sentence is ten years watching the film adaptation of Stephen King's IT four times a day. Let Tim Curry's performance remind you of what makes our nation great. This court is adjourned. Good day gentleman."
The judge got up and left the courtroom. Singing Papa Don't Preach under his breath not realizing that song is by Madonna and not ABBA. Ted lowered his head in shame, turning to his client not wanting to look him in the eye.
"Sorry Alec Baldwin. I tried my best."
"It's okay Ted. I'm sure you did. Thank you." said Alec Baldwin as the bailiff walked him out of the courtroom to be transported back to his holding cell where he would wait to be brought out to the Alamo to serve his sentence.
Ted packed up his things, making sure not to forget his squirt gun collection, and headed out of the courtroom trying to avoid talking to Mark.
"Nice try big guy. Maybe next time try being only one mammal and you might have more luck. Oh! Burn!" Said Mark proving how much of bluetooth headset kind of jerkface he is.
But Ted didn't let it get to him. He walked out of that courtroom with his deer-head held high. Knowing that on his next case he had a serious sixty forty against chance of winning.

Dinosaurs Ate Nixon

It was midnight on a clear night in July.  It was another weekly meeting of the Society of the Seven Scepters.  The followers waited in silence in their ceremonial black cloaks, a third of which were just snuggies since some of them aren’t too “crafty.”  Their leader, Silus Marquesto de Magic Tree Planter came out to speak the ceremonial opening prayer

I am the night!

I am a dark hawk

With me comes a sense of oblivion

Fives times as much sodium in the leading motor oil

Surfing can only be called so in the surf-rageous regions of Wisconsin

Like Champagne

I listen to my heart beat for ten minutes every morning

I’ve read nineteen books in the last six days

Going blind is not a fear of mine

Ten people have claimed to have killed me

I’m still here

and not here

all at once

If you owe me money please pay me back

I’ve got some ostrich loans to pay off

Did you know that ten different kinds of root beers are thought of every day?

It’s true

Winnie the Pooh is a personal hero of mine

His gluttony should be a shining beacon of selfishness to us all

I am Richard Nixon

I traveled back to 63 million BC to hunt dinosaurs

I lived amongst them

Gained their trust

Learned their ways

They ate me

The crowd began to chant

Dinosaurs Ate Nixon

Dinosaurs Ate Nixon

Dinosaurs Ate Nixon

Dinosaurs Ate Nixon

Dinosaurs Ate Nixon

Dinosaurs Ate Nixon

Dinosaurs Ate Nixon

And the meeting began.  “Who forgot the hot pockets?” they all thought.  No one would bring it up for fear of retribution.

Puppy Hammer

"Is there anything you can do Mike?' said Carline. 

"I mean, you're the only mechanic who looks like Hitler for twelve square miles.  If you can't help my dog, who can?  Who will save Buster?"

"Well, I can hit him on the head with a hammer and that should do it." said Mike.

"Okay. Please, whatever it takes to make him well." cried Carline.

"Oh, it won't make him well unless by 'well' you mean dead."

"No Mike!  I want Buster to live a long happy life.  He is only six months old.  There has got to be something else you can do to cure his chronic micro-fish sandwich-itosis."

Carline could barely speak through her tears.  She was so bereft with depression and bad fashion sense that she was at wits end.  She couldn't lose her dog.  Not now.  Not when it is so close to imitation Olympics weekend.

"Well Carline.  You've got to understand.  I'm a mechanic.  Not one of them voodoo animal doctors.  I fix cars when they go broken broken and can't combust gas anymore to take their owners from point A to point B.  I haven't the slightest clue as to how to make a puppy happy well fantastic again.  For all I know dogs are filled with jelly beans and to be honest I think you should let me hit your puppy with this hammer just to make sure." said Mike in his best James Brolin impression.

"Oh Mike, you're right." said Carline.  "I don't need a Powerpoint presentation and a laser pointer to see that Buster's time has come.  If only he hadn't gotten into those Tito Puente records, none of this would have happened.  I blame myself.  But, I promise to give Buster the proper burial he deserves.  Right after you bash in his head repeatedly with that ball peen hammer to see if his insides are made of candy because to be honest, I'm a little curious too."

"Alright then.  You know what this means don't you?" asked Mike.

"Yes I do." said Carline softly

"KETCHUP VOLCANO DANCE PARTY!!!" they screamed in unison whilst looking to the Southeast.

And they danced and danced until dawn to the tunes of Talk Talk remixed by DJ Shadow using ketchup and mustard to write out their favorite quotes from Danielle Steel novels and the U.S. Constitution. 

Occasionally throwing on a Tito Puente record in honor of the little dog that for six months enriched Carline's life on a level no other dog could ever reach.  She would make a necklace from his intestines hanging his eyeballs from it so that he could always be watching over her from her point of view.  His feet would become drink holders and his lower jaw a tremendous ashtray.  She would never forget him.  As for Mike, he went on to become the winningest contestant on the hit gameshow "Did George Washington Make His Own Paper?" using his winnings to move to Barbados and live out his life on the beach dressed as a crab drinking virgin daiquiris.

But neither of them forgot the night when they learned that puppies aren't filled with candy.