Can't see quaaludes?

It's a sinister notion that everyone can see quaaludes. If you can't then you are not alone and probably over five feet tall, although this is not a guarantee. If you can't see quaaludes then go immediately to your physician and explain your ailment. he will likely prescribe quaaludes to cure you of this debilitating anomaly. The chances of being cured by quaaludes is somewhere in the realm of 6-12%. This is to your benefit. Believe me. I can see quaaludes, I know. Although for me, aspirin is invisible, and to be honest I like it that way. Makes it easier to take my medicine.

Twenty Young Puppets

“If you sell a tetherball to twenty young puppets you will surely get a free pass to heaven," said Thomas Jefferson three days before he died of pneumonia in 1947. I tend to disagree with this basic sentiment on the grounds that reversal of fortune seems to never affect those who are most deserved. When did the chimney ever sell me out, you might ask, but the real question is "how many ham sandwiches can I truly fit into a 22.6 cubic foot suitcase?" The answer is pure algebra, it’s around 12-13,000, depending on the sandwich schematics. Furthermore, if you plan to invest in short term stocks be sure to hedge and then maybe wedge your bets into a hammock made out of either wool or steel or some combination of the two, like steel wool. Only then will your investment be safe from intruders and will also have the advantageous property of being able to efficiently scrub dishes that have become soiled beyond the point of mere spongery. I claim Texas in the name of Thai food, and the food is grateful I can assure you (we spoke last Thursday for several hours on the state of affairs in Georgia, the country not the state). It's clear to me now that if we were to have invested half the energy in bicycles as we did in motorized transportation we'd have already landed on Venus and perhaps set up a space colony on Jupiter. The correlation is evident when one considers the magical journey of E.T. To truly phone home, you must be prepared to bike there shortly afterwards. Lawlessness is tolerated by some magnates, but then the Harvard law school has denounced such debauchery in a formal letter titled “Grand larceny, Look how Far We’ve Come.” The crux of the argument isn’t in the act of committing larceny but enjoying the possibility that it could happen anywhere at any time. You may be enjoying your biweekly water polo match with your good friend Chuck from the station, when out of the blue larceny comes and beats your wife and rapes your children. Needless to say this isn’t a desirable outcome, but there are times when larceny has lent a helping hand. Hearken back to olden times when ol’ larce cured an ailing boy of his consumption, and then there was the time in 1921 when larceny fought for the heavyweight boxing title of the world and won in a spilt decision against Mean Joe Green. The point is simple, if you plan to vacation in the wilds of Europe, particularly Cambridge, then bring a big fucking axe and a satchel full of whale sperm. You will be protected against all manner of evil, and this will serve you well when you go to the bank to cash out your life savings and buy a small stretch of Nebraskan land, a place where you can raise a family in peace and get the hell out of this damn dirty rat race once and for all. Amen brother…

Since the dawn of time, man has pondered the outcome of well known, but nearly impossible to arrange, supermatchups between all manner of beast. Some examples include:

1.) A Werewolf vs. The 1998 New York Knicks
2.) Blue Whale vs. Iguana with infrared vision
3.) Toothless woodchuck vs. Blind woodchuck with extra set of molars
4.) Mama Cass vs. Ham sandwich made of metal
5.) Ham sandwich made of metal vs. Kick-ass pastrami on rye from the deli near my house

Although this list is in no way exhaustive, it represents a reasonable sampling of awesome beast vs. beast action that has inspired many spirited debates amongst the purveyors of Beast Warfare since its inception in the Triassic Period (yes, the 1998 Knicks did exist in the Triassic period; they were just very well hidden in thick scrub brush in the deserts of England). Absent from the list above, due to it deserving its own category for sheer awesomeness, is the greatest beast vs. beast matchup ever proposed:

Lion vs. Bull

Vital Statistics:

Combatant 1: Lion

Main offensive weapons:
-Razor sharp claws and teeth
-Extremely agile and lightning quick
-Evolved sense of finding and murdering other animals

Defensive Attributes:
-Biting the face, neck, and eyes of the assailant

Thinks he’s pretty when he:
-Swishes his little tail to and fro


Combatant 2: Bull

Main offensive weapons:
-Hoof
-Big fat ass
-Insane ability to find and eat grass
-Horns
-When balls are squeezed tightly will likely kick you in the face (very hard)

Defensive Attributes:
-Robust flank
-Lard layer
-Stench of four-stomach-digested grass manure hell emanating from rectum at all times

Little known fact:
-Hates algebra, but love gratuitous little facts regarding the construction of The Great Wall of China


Winner: Uncertain

This matchup will undoubtedly take place in a Spanish coliseum (I see no viable alternative), and will probably draw several trillion viewers from the entire animal kingdom, and that’s not counting the virus contingent (with their organismal status still up in the air) that contacted me last Tuesday expressing an interest in Lion vs. Bull action. If you support the Lion vs. Bull matchup, as you well should, please contact the Beast Warfare Office of Northern Nebraska and make your feelings known. Perhaps by 2010 we can realize our dream. Spain will play host to the greatest fight in the history of organic life, answering, once and for all, the most important question ever asked: Lion vs. Bull, who will win?

Walk on the Wild Side

May 9th, 2023 -- I was thinking of swimming the Puget Sound the other day when I realized I couldn’t swim something that had the word sound in it. I also don’t know how to swim. Finally, what the hell is a Puget, anyway? That was when I finally got the nerve to move to Panama, as I had planned for months, with my cured ham and other precious belongings. The trip to Panama was long and laborious. I was forced to eat my ham along the way because my other belongings, although special in their own way, were largely inedible. Once I arrived in Panama I learned that the Canal had vanished and was replaced, rather hastily, with a big trench that connected the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. As I surveyed my new habitat I could see the disappointment in the eyes of the Panamanians at the loss of their sacred canal. According to old Panamanian folklore, the canal was carved in three days and four nights by the Earth God, Icabod, in early December, 1976. Instantly, I recognized the gravity of the situation, for if a country can loose its beloved canal, then the door is opened to even greater evils, e.g. animal evaporation and the return of Crystal Pepsi. I set immediately to righting this catastrophic wrong. I petitioned in front of the Panamanian governmental headquarters, guessing they might have struck a deal with Bono to trade the canal for an AIDS vaccine and three more guaranteed Time Magazine covers, but the governmental officials refused to acknowledge my presence. I left, dejected and wanting for a good ham sandwich, and stumbled into a Panamanian Coliseum, where the locals were playing a silly game called sock car. In this sock car, a player must, get this, cooperate with the other 10 players on his team to “kick” a ball into a net. Apparently, a player cannot touch the ball with his hands during this game at any time, lest he risk incurring the vile “yellow card,” which I surmised was a bad thing. Then, little Raul wandered up to me and said “Mr., the game is called soccer, not sock car,” and naturally I thought the little bastard was crazier than a rat in a tin shithouse, but it turns out the little rascal was right. No less, this soc-cer game is apparently the most popular sport in all of human history, and typically draws 1 billion viewers worldwide during the World Cup, which is held every 4 years in a different country. My problems were solved. I would begin the campaign to have Panama host the 2026 World Cup, putting Panama on the world stage, forcing the corrupt Panamanian government to answer for the missing canal.

Needless to say, I was successful in my campaign, which is why the trade routes between the East Indies and Southern Japan remain open. The 2026 World Cup was held in Panama, and when the world descended on the small Central American country, they too saw what I saw, the missing canal. With the collective will of all living creatures, the Earth God, Icabod was summoned from his slumber to put right what had gone so horribly wrong. And with his Golden Pickaxe and Silver Shovel, Icabod disposed of that mangy trench and replaced it with a glorious canal, thus restoring a national treasure. And the colored girls said, doo do doo do doo do do doo, doo do doo do doo do do doo, …

A dialog from the future

Me: So I heard they finally cloned a dinosaur on the news this morning.

The Dinosaur: Yeah, I heard that too. I thought the dinosaur genome was incomplete due to eons of degradation, which would have precluded such a cloning event, but those clever scientists figured out a way to do it.

Me: Anyway, what did you want to have for lunch?

The Dinosaur: You.

Me: Damn, I knew it would come to this. If you insist on eating me, would you please start at my feet and work your way up? Oh, and give my regards to my salamander, jerome. I guess I probably loved him the most since he insisted that his name always be printed in lower case.

You can't chain a squid to a fencepost

The obvious thing about most squid is that they are sea bound, and therefore cannot exist outside a saline and watery environment, and since there are very few fenceposts in the ocean, the chances of finding one near a squid is just about impossible. If you are that lucky sea voyager who has 1) found a sea-fencepost 2) a nearby squid, and 3) have the will to corral this squid and chain it to the post, you will most likely encounter the biggest problem of all: squid are not rigid animals. There is a strong chance that this squid will resist being chained, and if it does then you'll have no choice but to punch it repeatedly, aiming for the eyes if possible. Once your squid is subdued then you can dress it in pajamas and make it wear a Richard Nixon mask. This will undoubtedly humiliate the squid and will subdue it even further by breaking its spirit. At this point you might think it can be chained to a fencepost, but you'd be wrong because in your battle with the squid the fencepost has likely become damaged to the point that it could not anchor even a weak sea anemone, let alone a bona fide squid, broken spirit or not. This is usually when most sea voyagers will ask themselves three important questions: What the hell am I doing under the sea? Why have I deliberately injured a squid? And most importantly, why did I want to chain a squid to a fencepost in the first place? The answers to these questions are complex, so complex in fact, that it’s probably best not to think about it too much and continue hunting for squid to chain to fenceposts.

It's business time

Sometimes when you get home after rafting all day down that damn Brazilian river in Guam (you know the one), you just get the gentlemanly urge to shed them clothes. I like to call this business time. I get all naked like, and just settle in with my Arabian cocktail and several issues of golfers digest or maybe its digested golfer, I don't know, and I read. I read real good. I punish them words by sometimes reading them twice or even three times so they get all tired of being read and meanwhile I'm naked as heck so the words are also embarrassed at my bareassedness; it's really quite humiliating for everyone in the room. Then I go to the family room and play some Bach or some shit on the piano or flute if I'm feeling adventurous, and I eventually cry myself to sleep. You can relate, right?

sierra slew

I have a hat. I actually have several hats. What do you think of that?