It has been said by people smarter than me, that when you die, every building on the Registry of National Landmarks flashes before your eyes. Amazing! Who wouldn’t want to see all those historic erections just prior to expiring? Additionally, it’s been noted by people funnier than me that the Pope buys his special garments at the Vatican’s Big and Vain Shop. But enough talk about people who are smarter and funnier than me. After all, as many have said, there are so few. And yet this does have a lot to do with the price of tea in China because the unit price of Finely Cut Oolong Tea Leaves in Shanghai is set (through a process too complicated to explain here) by what people say about me. If you think that’s peculiar you should see how Madame du Barry prices blow jobs at the Chicken Ranch. Read the rest of this entry »

On Bob Hope’s deathbed in 2003 the Very Reverend Jesse Jackson was ministering to the 100 year old comedian. And as the good reverend turned his dusky gaze skyward he beseeched God to, “Keep Hope alive! Keep hope alive! God Almighty we must keep hope alive!”

That evening all the clocks in Bob’s hometown of Toluca Lake were set ahead 1 hour so Bob could fall forward one last time. As death’s shadow lurked nearby, Mr. Hope beckoned his physician to come close. The doctor placed his ear near Bob’s mouth and heard him haltingly express in a raspy voice, “Hey Doc…that Murine Ear Wax Removal system – you really should use it. Seriously Doc. Yuck.” 

Later that same evening Bob summoned Tony Danza who arrived fresh from a dinner theater engagement at The Velvet Turtle. The former Taxi and Who’s the Boss? star revered Mr. Hope and Bob had something of great importance to tell the streetsmart entertainer. Mr. Danza leaned over and placed his ear close to Bob’s mouth while Bob unburdened himself with a death bed confession of sorts:  Read the rest of this entry »

 

I was introduced to my future wife, Lydia Gamehen, by her sister Cornish, whom I met at a 2010 Toyotathon Sales Event. I was there to buy a Camry and Cornish was there to sweep the floor. You see Cornish was temporarily out of prison on a work-release program and as such she was a “free-range prisoner.” She’d been imprisoned for teaching Creationism at Harvard (funny how that works both ways). Anyway we chatted for a bit and I asked her what it was like to be a free-range Cornish Gamehen. “Are you stringier because you’re allowed to move about freely?”

She put her broom away and we went outside where she freely roamed the parking lot. “Y’know, you’re funny in a Pat Sajak kind of way,” she observed. “What’s your name?”

“Edsel. Edsel Lomax,” I stated.

“Well Ed, you should meet my sister Lydia. She hasn’t had a good laugh in years,” Cornish related. Read the rest of this entry »

Including the NFL, there are almost 1200 religions in the world. And except for the NFL, all are having difficulty filling their stadiums as disenchanted fans abandon their seats for more secular pursuits. Religions  are competing for an ever dwindling number of newcomers and are having a tough time with their sales pitch as potential recruits demand more than vague promises of security and rapture:

“The truth is ours,” says the Mennonite. And we immediately think, “Isn’t mennonite an element in the Periodic Table?”

“We desire nothing,” peaceably declares the Buddhist beautifully attracting us with their completion backwards principle.

“I am infallible.” The Pope decrees. And we immediately think, “That’s nice Mr. Pope, but I’m due back on the planet earth now.”

“Why am I even in this conversation,” sayeth the atheist. Read the rest of this entry »

Absolute freedom exists in literature. One can write about the ridiculously small world of Quantum Mechanics or the ridiculously small world of Garage Mechanics. It’s a small world after all. It’s a small world after all (Sorry – this paragraph sponsored by Disney). We may write prose or poems. We may write about being a fly on the wall in the Oval Office who wishes he were an ant on the frosting of a same sex wedding cake. We may even write about a false prophet whose hard earned truths are showcased in his best-selling book “The Purpose Driven Cadillac.” 

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Yes, one may conjure innumerable esoteric permutations of charming lterary expression, but the following story is not for mindless snacking. Nope. We need to graduate from the deceptively empty calories of: Read the rest of this entry »

 

It happened quite naturally – like light waves propagating from a source or Meryl Streep getting an Oscar nomination or, in this case, yours truly gaining access to his past lives. With faith in the precept that those who fail to heed history are doomed to repeat it, I’d resolved to learn from my past and apply it to the future. I had beseeched God regularly for access to my past lives and he finally sent my guardian angel Cyrus to facilitate the matter. Although I really think God just wanted me to stop pestering him so he could address more pressing issues like the possibility of a Rocky 7 movie. I even had the audacity (chutzpah if I was Jewish) to request access to my future incarnations, but Cyrus reminded me, “You can’t see what hasn’t happened yet.”

“What about the movie Back to the Future,” I queried?

“Listen David. Don’t be so cute. We can arrange for you to pass a kidney stone very easily. Is that what you want?” Cyrus warned.

“Well yes,” I affirmed. “I mean if I have to pass a kidney stone, I would like to pass it very easily.”

“David, you try my patience,” Cyrus intoned.

“Oh really? Well you should try mine some time,” I countered.

“Do you want to see your past lives or not?” an exasperated Cyrus declared.

“Yes, yes of course I do,” I exclaimed. Read the rest of this entry »

I couldn’t help myself. After ordering the mahi-mahi at Chi-Chi’s in Walla Walla WA, I couldn’t leave well enough alone and just enjoy my lunch lunch. No. In the background, my mind kept trying to rewrite The Mamas And The Papas hit “Monday, Monday” using the words mahi-mahi. The idea arrived uninvited and pursued me while I speared the mahi-mahi with my tines till the prongs were full, then I thrust them into my mouth and, closing my teeth,  pulled out the fork thereby placing its freight in my capacious jaws. Oh sure I’d eaten less descriptively before, but as I’d recently survived a plane crash and felt alive on the planet, I lived life like someone left the forking gate open.  Read the rest of this entry »

 

When Neil Armstrong returned from his first moonwalk, Buzz Aldrin, who was laboring under the hallucinogenic effects of an unnoticed nitrous oxide leak in the Eagle, had locked the door and refused him entry. The situation grew tense, but, as had occurred during their entire journey, good fortune soon smiled on them and the situation was resolved. Under the Freedom of Information Act I obtained a transcript of their conversation and post its contents verbatim: 

Neil:    Hey Buzz let me in. Hey Buzz, the door is locked. Let me in. (He knocks on the hatch and even though sound waves cannot travel in a vacuum, buzzed Buzz can hear them anyway)

Buzz:   Who is it?

Neil:    Who do you think Buzz? We’re on the god damn moon. C’mon, let me in.

Buzz:   Neil is that you?

Neil:    No. It’s Helen Keller. Read the rest of this entry »

Very rarely am I blindsided and tickled pink by a literary passage that packs the unintentionally humorous punch of a Linear Particle Accelerator. Such was the case when this unsuspecting reader was suddenly seized by a powerfully jocular elation; when all he really wanted to do was drift off gently to safe and restful sleep, sleep, sleep. Allow me to set the scene. It’s late evening and I’m reading in bed prior to an early morning shift at the local satis factory (yes, we manufacture satis). As my pursuit of Early American history is unquenchable, I’m curled up to an esoteric and anecdotally superb book called  Beauties and Celebrities of the Nation which describes the social life of Washington DC during the early Presidential administrations. In this particular chapter, George Washington’s administration (which in 1794 was located in Philadelphia pending the construction of our new Capitol in DC) is being surveyed. Read the rest of this entry »

Mmmm! Yummers. These are just some of my favorite astral plane Pepperidge Farm cookies. Are they on your list?

Toucan Sandies

Transgendered Gingerbread Something er Others

Roadside Clusters

Lemon Nothings

Heimlich Chokies

Whoopsie Daisy Flourishes

Buttered Goobledygooks

Powdered Snowglobes

Chess Guys

Multi-Striped, Triple-Dipped, Neo-Drizzled Fancher Snaps

Flightless Shortbread Spinsters

Origami Cannibal Chews

Double Stuff Oreogasms  (Women may have as many as they’d like. Men must wait at least 1 hour between cookies)

Esophageal Conundrums

Snicker Nipples

Nutted Doofuses

Silicon Wafers

Isaac Newtons

 

Pepperidge Farm does remember. My name is Orville Redenbacher and I approved this message.