And the Mayor's wife said "Ha!"

We don't really know what's up with Ol' Rasputin here, but I can only discern he is attempting to make himself larger by in-taking massive quantities of air and holding it. (It doesn't work, I have tried and that is exactly what it looks like too!) Either that or he just got hit right in the rollers. Here is something scientifically valid: If four Billionaires won the lottery, than it's a fair chance that the cat in this picture might come across this blog, and think to himself, "Hey, that's me!" If that ever happens, then sir, I implore you to explain the circumstance behind said picture so that the mystery will be solved and we can end this lesson on theory and conjecture. Oh and thank you for appearing on the show! If you like I can send you a tee shirt, maybe some instant oatmeal or some other cool swag for your trouble.

Next stop, Uranus.

No matter what see worthy (yes, see as in with your eyes out your windows) vessel you captain, or where you go, before dropping anchor, here is some advice. This is one place I would want to detour around because they would probably say, "Hi, welcome to Dildo, now go fuck yerself!" I'll never know. Yet, I can't help but wonder. What kind of individuals live in a town called Dildo? Are they miffed all the time because others are constantly making mirth at their expense? Ill tempered or what have you? Or would they be a friendly sort of folk, letting us know that they are at our cervix? Would they have a church or a clock in the town square that the hour is marked with a giant " dong?" Maybe it is pronounced in a different way, no, wait. There is only one way to say that word. It is what it is. I can only imagine what the local adult novelty store must be called. If the fickle finger of fate is involved, you can bet your Funk and Wagnals that there is a guy living there with the last name Bates and the mailman always chucked when the man was but a young lad getting mail addressed to him as Master. Ok, before you start whipping rotten tomatoes at me for the bad jokes, refer to the disclaimer. Would some consider it an honor to shake hands with the mayor? Would said mayor, or at least someone get a petition to change the name of that town to Steely Dan for starters, or maybe even Holmes?

Ahoy Paloy!

Space...the place between my ears. These are the voyages of the Starship Boobieprise,(aka Ship of Fool). It's mission, to seek out strange thoughts and weird conversation topics, and to oddly go where no fool has gone before!!!

Captain's Log, Stardate: 5934.31 wait, what day is this? The entity known as "The Tornado" has once again brought wide spread destruction upon my ship. According to damage reports, all sections have been effected. It astounds me that something that stands no more than three feet tall can wreak havoc in the manor which this creature does. From bow to stern, port and aft, household debris is strewn in all directions. The chief engieneer has said, putting things back to right will take some time, however, it will make little difference after the being wakes from his slumber to attack yet again.

Please stand by

We interrupt our regularly scheduled insanity to bring you the following: Tonight's book review of "Tiger's Revenge" by Claude Bauls will not be seen. In it's place, we shall be enduring not one, but two travesties, their only use would be that of bum wipe. We are speaking of "20,000 Leagues to the Outhouse" by Willy Makette and it's equally bad companion tale, "A Bad Day" by Betty Wont. This program has been brought to you by the following: Our friends at Absorbext Tampons, reminding you that if your tampon is a pain in the ass, it's in the wrong spot. The Mortuary Food & Spirits, "Stop in for a cold one anytime." Soup! brand soup. Now in a can. Try "Sandwich" flavor! Herbert's Butcher Shop, "Nobody beats our meats!" and The Soul Clinic. So now, on with tonight's show. We are sorry, due to 9 solar flares with an RF flux of 144, 122 sun spots and the Corona at a measurement of r=22m km, we can no longer provide you clear signal to enjoy this program. Please stand by........

And away we go!

Zoom, zoom, zoom! It's true folks, we are in full throttle, flat out bug shit crazy wacky mode tonight! I guess you might say we have even gone ape. Jee whiz, sounds like I am trying to sell a used car back in the days of leisure suits and big cars, where funky was where it was at. So let's set the cruise controls for the heart of the sun and slip back into The 70s....If you don't like it, then get the funk out! Nixon was still fucking America in the ass with Kissenger's finger, groove was on the move, and Grass was the drug of choice for millions of everyday folks like you and me. Especially toward the end of that decade when it seemed the dry leafy goodness was on it's way to being decriminalized. We had great t.v. programs like The Gong Show and Soul Train, The Midnight Special and Wolfman Jack. Saturday morning cartoons were at the peak of insaity dementing the minds of the already warped. There was nothing like sitting in front of the picture box with a bowl of cereal and watching Loony Toons. Good times! Then, the Forces of Darkness stepped in and took away our chance at liberty within reason. Once again, those villains are rearing their ugly heads to crush the little guy, fuck the poor, and run this train into the narrow tunnel of their vision. I'll step down from the soapbox now and spin things in a new direction that is pretty interesting none the less. Every decade has seen it's own sense of style, art and feel of things reflective in that particular decade's drug culture and what substances were popular at the time. Think back to the 80's for example. All the bright colors, shocking hair dos, the music and many other things we look back on and make fun of.

The choice of many in the Pepsi Generation wasn't Pepsi. It was pure coke, straight from Columbia. The 90s, heroin, you got grunge. This Godforsaken decade, everyone for the most part is luded out on some sort of pill or another weather they truly need it or not. This is evident in the awful popular music scene. Are there people out there who actually enjoy a song on the radio when it is played six times in one hour? But, that is a conversation for another time. Let's step into the Way Back Machine and have Professor Peabody set the controls to the late 60s and explore the fashions of the time influenced by the Great Acid Wave. No one can argue that it was a groovy time for some. The ones who truly know could tell ya. I love clips of the B movies from that era, look them up, you might dig them. Well, I hope you have enjoyed this little history lesson, I am a professor and all, so I profess to be!