I know, it’s February, not December. Putting together a year in
review post seems out of place.
But not in a Just Plain Stupid world.
My first post for JPS was February 28th 2013. There are
now over 300 posts on this blog, and I, for one, am surprised. I
never thought I had so much to say, even if most of it was useless
dribble.
This Year’s Failures
The dribble has flowed slower this year, and so I began the immensely
unpopular serialization of Dirk Destroyer’s Less Destructive
Brother. S.B. and someone I don’t know from Russia faithfully read
each post of Dirk, so it hobbles along. If you’re off your meds
and wish to start reading this Donald Trump-less political satire set
in a world inundated by sheep, here’s a link to the firstinstallment, and better yet, here’s a link to the firstinstallment that has anything to do with the story.
Several posts other than Dirk Destroyer have failed to attract
attention this year; many because they didn’t deserve any, but a
few I thought were worth reading. Tricycle Baskets Full of Evil
falls in that latter category, along with Apply Yourself, and the
not-yet-immortal story of Mortimer the Drop of Goo.
This Year’s Successes???
Picture posts – those stolen from FB, or taken from tee shirts or
catalogs have always been among my more popular subjects, along with
guest posts from other Go Figure Reads writers.
So I should just shut up and plagiarize?
Particularly surprising was the popularity of Will Wright’s rant
about his bad cruise on Royal Caribbean, but less surprising was
Walter Bego’s lionization of the art of Terry Gilliam.
Unfortunately for my more faithful readers, I remain incapable to
taking a hint. I continue to write a few posts with a minimum of
plagiarism, and some of them have done well (if sickening large
numbers of people can be defined as doing well.)
Gloves vs. Mittens preyed on the public’s fascination with
celebrity, and I exploited my brother’s secrets in the post,
Horatio.
Clearly, many of my readers would prefer Horatio to be the Hauser
that writes this blog.
The top post of this third year, Body Part Insults (written with
assistance by Kim Webb,) was based on an ill-advised Facebook post of
a Grammy award nominated FB friend who probably wishes now that A)
she hadn’t posted her desire to not insult our noble excretory
system when addressing jerks, and (especially) B) that she hadn’t
clicked ‘accept’ to my friend request.
I’d like to thank you each personally for reading my blog, but I
don’t want to risk the ensuing storm of rotten vegetation (or
worse.) As we limp into year Four there’s always the hope that
somewhere along the line I’ll learn to write good stuff.
Or at least learn to shut up and plagiarize.
So for the video I looked up Best of 2015 on youtube and got this. These are toys, right?
You’ve
navigated to an excerpt from Dirk Destroyer’s Less Destructive
Brother. If you haven’t been following the previous posts, I don’t
think I can help you. Just hang on and see if any of this makes
sense.
Chapter Six
Transition
Usually when a story is told, it comes in three parts. You have the
set up, the body, and the conclusion. When you move from one to the
other, you have a transition. Transitions are typically the hardest
things to describe in a story, and frequently the story teller has to
resort to bad grammar in the process.
For example.
“Anyway, that’s when we…”
Or
“So like after all that…”
Professional story-tellers have imaginative ways of accomplishing
transitions, but I’m just the seven or eight thousand and
something-year-old brother of a planetary pariah, and curiously,
making a smooth transition in story-telling is not one of the skills
you pick us if you live long enough.
That being said (typical amateur transition phrase,) I will move on
to the next morning when the members of our quest consisting of
Lustavious, Mage-e-not, Ono with Swampy firmly attached to her
shoulder, Lip Ton Tease, and the Jonma Claim incarnation of Uriculous
Wisehind gathered in the director’s lab prior to leaving the
ministry in search of Dirk Destroyer (who’s real last name was
McFarland, by the way.)
Chapter 6
Fellowship of the Bring
“Ah HA,” said Lustavious with relish and a musical lilt. “Now
we seek out the great criminal of our times… and several other
times as well. Let us step lively now, my comrades!”
“One moment,” said Youtickubus Akwar who while not in the room
previously, nor invited, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. This
surprised me less than when she appeared among the mops in the
janitor’s closet – which despite my seeming calmness at the time,
had been a reoccurring theme in my nightmares the previous evening.
At least she was near the doorway, and not standing behind me. She
motioned in a tall gangly, stiff looking creature that may or may not
have been alive.
“I found this Jonma,” said Akwar, “and I think he will be
helpful to our director with his little control problem.”
“Youtickubus,” said Jonma Claim in a harsh whisper, “We agreed
not to mention my little problem in front of the other members of the
quest.”
“But this Jonma will help you.”
“Huh?” said Ono, “can one ghoul plink and plop into two Jonma
Claims?”
“It can’t,” said Akwar, “but this creature is not a Jonma
Claim; he is a Jonma Carry.”
“Call me Jon,” said the stooped, but statue-like Jonma.
“I am not familiar with a Jonma Carry,” said Lip Ton Tease.
“Please call me Jon,” said the mask-like face of Jonma Carry.
“A Jonma Carry,” said Akwar, slapping the hand of the creepy tall
creature before it could ask us to call it Jon again, “is not
inhabited like a Jonma Claim, as a matter of fact, it does not even
start out profoundly stupid – merely below average.”
“Then how does it become a Jonma,” asked someone, but I don’t
remember who.
“A Jonma Carry is developed through brain-abusive behavior like
excessive tanning, overexposure to tomato-based condiments, and the
injection of poisons into the skin to make all facial muscles
immobile.”
“That sounds pretty stupid to me,” said Mage-e-not who, getting a
hard stare from Akwar, disappeared from the neck up.
“Perhaps,” said Akwar.
“So how will the grotesque creature be of help to us?” asked
Lustavious.
“Please call me Jon,” said Jonma Carry.
“A Jonma Carry,” said Akwar, “helps prevent the original
personality of a Jonma Claim from filibustering.”
“What’s filibustering?” I wanted to ask, but Akwar kept talking
about something unrelated so I couldn’t get my question heard.
“Big group,” said Swampy after Akwar finally shut up, “Too big.
Too many names.”
“I’ll leave,” said the invisible face of Mage-e-not.
“No,” said Jonma Claim. “You are all essential. I will need
your considerable powers Mage-e-not to assist Lustavious.”
“No more pork chops,” said Swampy.
“Then I volunteer to remain here,” said Akwar, “unless any of
you feel you want me along.”
I’d never noticed that they had crickets in the ministry building
before, but sure enough, I could hear them chirping. Swampy flew off
from Ono’s shoulder leaving a trail of defecation on Lustavious’
bandage.
Swampy liked crickets for breakfast.
Akwar looked up expectantly at Lustavious, who stared down at his
crappy bandage. Then she looked down at the Jonma Claim, who looked
almost as blank-faced as the first time I’d seen him. She started
to back out of the room, attempting to establish eye contact with
every member of the party. Even the Jonma Carry looked away.
A half hour latter, the invisible head of Mage-e-not asked, “Is it
safe?”
“She’s gone,” said Swampy flying back into the room, crapping
on Lustavious, and landing on Ono’s shoulder once again.
“Then let us venture forth,” said Lustavious in an
uncharacteristically low voice.
Without uttering another word, or looking anywhere but forward, we
left the ministry and walked three miles north.
“All right,” said Mage-e-not, “somebody tell me why we’re
walking north.”
“Weren’t you leading?”
“I wasn’t leading, I thought Jonma Claim was leading.”
“I wasn’t leading,” said Jonma Claim, “I thought Lustavious
was leading.”
“I’ll lead,” said Jonma Carry.
“Shut up, Jonma.”
“Call me Jon.”
“North is the path to Celestial enlightenment,” said Lip Ton
Tease.
“Is that what we’re looking for?”
“No,” sputtered Jonma Claim. “We’re looking for Dirk
Destroyer.”
“Where is he?”
Suddenly everyone was looking at me. “Look,” I said. “I’m a
go-along, get-along type of guy, but you’re asking me to find my
brother so the rest of you can cast him and me into oblivion forever.
Do you think I want to help you do that?”
“Ah!” said Lustavious energetically, while keeping a wary eye on
Swampy. “Of course we understand your feelings, but the time for
selfishness is past. It’s time to think of the greater good! The
whole planet is in trouble. People are starving. The sheep are
annoyed. We need your help. We need it now!”
There it was again, that empty-headed-feeling I had experienced
before. I knew there were obvious fallacies in what Lustavious was
saying, but my mind couldn’t catch one of them, much less wrestle
it to the ground, master it, and put it into words.
“He enjoys carving caricatures in the wool of sheep,” I offered.
“So we need to find sheep!” said Jonma Claim.
“Look around you,” said Mage-e-not.
He was right. There were sheep everywhere – dozens of little
groupings across the landscape, mostly gathered around grassy places
that were getting harder and harder to find.
“Not very helpful, Comrade,” said Lustavious, “but I know you
can do better,” which he sang rather than said. “You can lead us
to where we need to go.”
He hit a high note on go that was truly impressive. I couldn’t
remember any male older than thirteen hitting a note that high.
“And he likes smoking…”
“Look,” said Mage-e-not, “smoke!”
So, if
you’re keeping score, we have a caricature of a pol from the R
party and one from the D party. For proper symmetry, we need an
independent (with R tendencies,) for our next post. After that,
symmetry will go out the window, (though in a balanced, even-handed
fashion before it hits the messy scrapheap of chaotic satire.)
Speaking of smoke, here’s a clip of a moment from the Beverly Hillbillies when Granny gets busted for drugs.
Growing up in the 60s, Halloween was all about candy. You were
thrilled if you got a full-sized candy bar (unless it was Almond Joy
or Mounds,) and you prayed that nobody put a homemade caramel popcorn
ball in your bag to mutate into a candy wrapper giganto monster by the
time you got home.
But other than the giganto monster, and the rumors of hidden razor
blades in the candy, Halloween food wasn’t really about scary.
Witches teeth? Maybe scary if you’re a dentist, or the tooth
fairy, but to us kids – nothin’.
Things have changed in the last five decades.
Halloween is more of a holiday now, and less of a candy grab. It's more about adults and less about children. It's less about Three Musketeers bars and more about edible body parts.
It requires a lot of thought.
But what is the cerebral without a little heart as well?
Finger food isn't enough.
You need put your whole arm into it.
Can't you see?
Modern Halloween food has to have some bite to it. But don't worry...
You'll be fine as long as you keep your head.
All kinds of creepy food ideas are birthed at Halloween.
Though some might not be appropriate for young children.
Or house pets.
Aquatic house pets.
Exotic house pets...
All kinds of house (ugh) pets.
Don't let it gross you out.
Neither hurl, nor howl.
Festive medical assistance is standing by.
To help you scab over those rough patches.
And put you all back together, safe and warm.
snug as a bug,
In a rug.
Some gross food traditions do go back to my generation
A FB friend ML, wrote a post this week: Out
of respect for the human body and its noble excretory system, I have
lately challenged myself to stop using body parts as derogatory
expressions, but the people near that new Lexington Starbucks had me
thinking...well, maybe "armpit."
Does armpit really replace Butt Hole and it’s slightly less polite
alternative? Would you be insulted or just confused if someone
called you an armpit? It’s no fun to confuse a jerk – jerks must
be insulted – otherwise traffic gets too boring.
As a service to ML and other respecters of the lower alimentary canal
(go ahead, look it up – I had to,) I’m compiling this list of
non-excretory self-evidently insulting body parts.
Pustular Cyst - always a welcome surprise on picture day
Gangrenous appendage - not just for zombie movies anymore
Unconditioned hairpiece - not exactly a body part, but Shatner's not exactly an actor
Enlarged funny-bone - only funny on someone else.
Pink eye - the reason I was afraid to study conjunctions... What? Nobody got that?
Ingrown toenail - I can't stand these
Wart hair - your body's little flag to make sure the wart gets noticed
Impacted wisdom tooth - because late adolescence doesn't have enough pain already
Shingle rash - these drive my lupy
Inflamed uvula - not a huge insult. I just like the word, uvula.
Swollen taste bud - I just wanted to stick my tongue out at you
Varicose vein - I think I'll save this one for pregnant women
Enlarged blackhead - a classic
Over pierced nostril - a neoclassic
Cirrhotic liver - use only with transparent Butt Holes
And finally - braided nose hair - for the jerk whose creativity you respect.
Speaking of being a jerk - here's a kill-joy vid on another popular FB post.
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