I like to create little posting games. Here's how this one works. One person posts a question on any topic, with the caveate being that there should NOT be an actual answer. The rest of the board has 72 hours to post a clever answer, after which the question creator picks the best\favorite response and the selected person writes the next question. For example:
MGOBLUE(Marty) posts: If I mowed my lawn with my toothbrush would I have to brush my teeth with my lawnmower?
Rage responds: Yes, and you'd have to shave your legs with dental floss you big woman!
Kossen responds: No, but only because you're a toothless yokel.
Marty decides he likes Rage's answer best, so Rage gets to post the next question. Got it? Good. If not give it a few days and you'll figure it out. As always, it's my game so I go first:
Where do you think Ron Powlus keeps the 3 Heisman Trophies Beano Cooke said Ron would win while at Notre Dame?
In Beano's coffin, crushed by the Michigan helmet that Beano is wearing.
The Dark Lord Sauron melted them down to form the One Waistbracelet of Power, which was monumental failure.
In his ass, the same place from where Beano Cooke talks and Notre Dame pulled last weeks game.
I don't think Marty's answer can be topped, but I'll make a lame attempt anyway:
He keeps them in a closet with some other items he collected over the years: Mikey's corpse (who died from eating Pop Rocks and drinking Coke), his $1.32 million dollar check from Bill Gates for forwarding e-mails, and a manila envelope of the pictures he handed out at his wedding showing his now-ex-bride having sex with the best man.
Pherph - If you had said "piano case sized coffin" I would have given it to you.
Marty - Great answer. Only my warped sense of tangential humor kept you out of the winner's circle.
DJ - A reference to waking up in a bathtub full of ice with the trophies where his kidney's used to be would have put you over the top
And the winner is....RAGE! You earned bonus points because you're talk of melting down the trophies made me think of the SNL skit where Desmond Tutu melts down Doug Flutie's Heisman while trying to reattach the arm. LET'S LOOK AT THAT PASS AGAIN!
Rage, you may fire when ready.
Thank yah, thank yah . . .
Ok, so I was sitting here watching the local news, and Bob the sports guy was yammering on about ASU and the whipping they delivered unto Iowa yesterday. He mentioned that their offense was the greatest thing since sliced bread . . . which led me to wonder:
What was the best thing before sliced bread?
First, tell "Bob" to stop talking out of Lee Corso's mouth. Then, back to answering the question...
My first thought was the Hula Hoop, followed by the Pet Rock, Rubik's Cube, and Snipe Hunting. But those were all relatively recent modern phenomena’s. Slice bread goes back some 7500 years. I figure, in the garden of Eden, after they were all smoking "long tall green plants, with four long leafs" (Think J. Geils here!) And then they got the munchies for some sliced bread!
The obvious answer, by default is:
The Roach Clip
Contrary to popular belief, the answer to this question is NOT unsliced bread.
Also sliced bread is a fairly recent invention, being less than 80 years old. Logging onto a website http://corporate.britannica.com/press/inventions.html , I discovered that sliced bread was actually invented in 1928. This led me to thinking that the greatest thing before sliced bread, would be something that was invented just prior to 1928. A quick scan of the inventions showed some promise, with the most promising invention being Kool-Aid (invented by Edward Perkins in 1927), silicone in 1904 (widely known for its beauty enhancing applications), and tea-bagging which was invented in the early 1900's (who knew?). However, after further analysis, I realized that my previous assumption may have been incorrect, and the best thing BEFORE sliced bread may have been around for a long time and need not be a recent invention.
So, now I had been sorting thru all of the timeless inventions, and tried to pick the best one. Fire was ruled out, as it is technically a discovery not an invention, and while the wheel may receive the popular vote, I also ruled that out because if it is so great, why does everyone always try to reinvent it? This process of elimination led me to believe that the greatest invention prior to sliced bread was......(drumroll please)......PORN.
Not that I have to speak about the merits of this invention, as I believe the 'product' speaks for itself. I don't know when porn was actually invented, but I am sure it was perfected by the Greeks (those perverts) so it has been around for quite some time. And if you think of it, many of the greatest inventions since the Industrial Revolution are based on or have ties to, porn. For example, the printing press and typewriter both furthered the cause of written porn (much better than that hieroglyphic porn on clay tablets - you ever try to hide on of those in your sock drawer?), the TV was another big step for porn, and of course, the twin technological wonders invented solely for the use of advancement of porn - computers and the internet.
There you have it. Porn, the greatest invention prior to sliced bread, and the grandfather of many of today's great inventions. Without it, imagine what our world would be like......then again, I'd rather not think about such things.
DJ knows his judge.
I'm pretty sure I have no shot after that, but I can't resist playing. As a man I only have a few simple needs. 1 of these needs is covered in DJ's post. The other 2...eating seared animal flesh and burning witches. And so I submit to you that the greatest thing before sliced bread had to be fire. For how else can you enjoy a roasted leg of lamb while young Sarah Witherspoon is barbequed for turning the cobbler's son into a newt?
I thought of answering that the greatest thing before sliced bread was sexual reproduction (or more properly the act of sexual reproduction that doesn't quite take until you are ready). Then I thought that contraception might be the answer, but the problem is that both of those things are still better than sliced bread.
Please note: the idea stuck me early while reading DJ's excellent post, so I am not truly copying - just a little late.
Dinosaurs.
Due to the overpowering quality of responses, I've been forced to de-mothball (and slightly modify) a ranking system formerly used to rate movies. The Rage Random-question Ranking System (R3S) has the following peculiarities:
Mirth
0 Completely devoid of mirth. Think IRS audit . . .
5 The bellows of laughter your post conjured were perfectly offset (in a mathematical/spiritual sense) by the sheer mind-numbing pain other mirthless portions caused. Imagine seeing an animal trainer at the zoo getting peed on by an elephant followed immediately a SWAT team slaming you in the balls with one of those door-busting battering rams.
10 I'm frolicking in the fields of joviality. Nuclear mirth fusion has ignited. Quintillions of individual mirth atoms are smashing into one another every attosecond forming never-before-seen mirth isotopes. Life is so very, very goooooooooood!
Ingenuity
0 Completely devoid of ingenuity. A black hole of originality and creativity which not only sucks, it sucks royal. (have to give props to the post from a long time ago where someone was labeled a black hole of humor (or something similar) - loved it and am constantly finding ways to work it into my daily life)
5 Flashes of your Einsteinian brilliance periodically singe my retinas as I read your post, but the rapture I feel basking in your brilliance is quickly and emphatically doused by the crushing realization that . . . well . . . I was probably mistaken.
10 You just bent the Goddess of Wisdom over a bar stool and are giving her a Herculean pounding as the stars above look down in knowing approval. A New Age has dawned. You are the new living embodiment of intellect and creativity.
Porn
0 Completely devoid of porn. All your post was to me was the constant sound of Charlie Brown's teacher punctuated every so often with a "Thankya Jesus!" Nobody likes a religious zealot. Get off my porch.
5 Late-nite Cinemax. Nudity was to be had, but not nearly enough. Bonus points for effort, but do not pass Go and do not collect $200.
10 A virtual symphony of porn. I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats. Your post swept me away to an island where it was just me, Briana Banks, Jesse Jane, Kira Kener, Kobe Tai, Jenna Jameson, Amber Lynn, Nina Hartley, 5,000 gallons of lube, and a tree that grows Viagra coconuts.
Guns, Robots, and Airborne Mutagens
0 Completely devoid of guns, robots, and airborne mutagens. This is clearly not good. Next thing I know, you'll be declaring World Peace.
5 A decent number of guns, robots, and airborne mutagens, but not nearly enough to lay waste to a countryside. Nice try, but before you plan your next invasion, you might want to put a wee bit more money into R&D.
10 You are a galactic power, capable of bending entire solar systems to your dark will with the merest glance. The sheer number of guns, robots, and airborne mutagens at your disposal is truly epic. I depart on the wings of a wish spell, but not before bowing in homage to the might of your post.
--------------------------------
Ok, so now that we got that out of the way, the weighted breakdown is:
Mirth 45%
Ingenuity 45%
Porn 8%
GR&A 2%
Having said that, allow me to rate these most excellent posts:
Marty
Mirth 7
Ingenuity 7.5
Porn 6
GR&A 7
TOTAL: 7.145
Started out strong, especially liked the part about Snipe Hunting. Made me think a lot about guns. The Garden of Eden also conjured up images of nudity, which is never a bad thing.
Oz
Mirth 8
Ingenuity 8.5
Porn 9.8
GR&A 0
TOTAL: 8.209
This was so good on so many different levels that I want to kick a nun.
Bartt
Mirth 7.75
Ingenuity 8
Porn 4
GR&A 2
TOTAL: 7.4475
I don't think burning witches has ever enjoyed the degree of popularity it deserves. I'm sure bbq'ing Sarah Witherspoon would qualify as soft porn in someone's book. No real GR&A, but you get bonus points for violent imagery.
Pherph
Mirth 5
Ingenuity 5
Porn 9
GR&A 0
TOTAL: 5.22
Just mentioning sexual reproduction is going to get you on the board. I just got some sexual reproduction DVDs in the mail. I'm a happy, happy flab.
TFK
Mirth 4
Ingenuity 6
Porn 0
GR&A 2
TOTAL: 4.54
Try as I might, I can't think of any pornos involving dinosaurs. The brevity aspect was good - swim against the stream.
So there you have it . . . the winner is Oz.
Hit us with your best shot . . .
Nuns without shinguards beware!
Rage,
Your last post was awesome. I think we need to tell the webmaster to make sure that post gets archived somewhere, for if the whole internet goes down, it would be a travesty to future generations if that post were lost. The quote about the Goddess of Wisdon over the barstool is classic.
----
Okay, enough reminiscing, on to the next question:
Since we are among those fortunate enough to have survived the cataclysmic event otherwise known as Y2K (do you remember the horror of that night????), please share with the group how you managed to survive the Armageddon-like circumstances that surrounded that fateful evening on the night of December 31st, 1999.
I have spent many a new year in the John Fischer compound. In late '99 I caught the biological version of the Y2K bug and was laid out for a few days. I caught it from my in-laws who frequently get sick just thinking that I may come visit.
I rose from my sick-bed to greet the new year then quickly went back to that self-same sick-bed.
I was cured only when that poor Pfluger kick from Alabama kicked the extra point wide.
I let out a cheer of celebration and renewed physical health and was promptly shushed for possibly waking my niece.
My relationship with my niece has not yet recovered.
Knowing that the Gates of Hell were scheduled to open that night, I took certain precautions. Chance favors the prepared mind.
10. That entire night, I never backed out of one room into another without looking first.
9. I made sure that my car had a fresh battery and a full tank of gas so it would start immediately once the local vampire street gang started descending upon my house.
8. I never unlocked my front door after 7 p.m. to look outside.
7. I made sure I stayed the hell away from certain geographical locations: Amityville, Elm Street, Transylvania, Nilbog, the Bemuda Triangle, and any quaint town in Maine.
6. Along the lines of #7, I avoided going to isolated research stations. This included Arctic weather stations, foreboding pacific atolls, distant space stations, and island bases harboring secret government-sponsored gene-splicing experiments.
5. Just to be safe, I didn't play any vicious pranks on shy new kids in my neighborhood for a full two months leading up to New Year's Eve.
4. Any and all objects that suddenly started moving in a mysterious fashion were immediately thrown out.
3. I traced the lineage of every person coming over to my house that night back 1,000 years just to make sure I didn't accidentally invite the great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson of some horribly evil historical figure. That would just be asking for trouble.
2. I avoided any stranger carrying tools best suited for carving, piercing, or removing living human flesh, such as chain saws, staple guns, icepicks, electric carving knives, axes, band saws, or flame throwers.
1. I listened closely to the soundtrack and paid close attention to the audience, since they are always far more intelligent than I could ever hope to be.
I placed a yoke around my neck and plowed the halcyon fields of my youth, when y 2 k was a distance traveled and not an Orwellian nightmare.
I wrote songs that made Christopher Cross and Al Stewart weep the tears of a thousand hormonal women.
I ate a meal of manly men, with grease and gristle and flesh torn asunder.
But mostly I hung out at Chez McCoy, watched Jamie drink a concoction of alcohol and condiments and then pass out on his kitchen floor.
The votes have been cast:
Pherph gets bonus points for mentioning Michigan's big victory. But the fact that he was shushed during a Michigan game did not help his case.
Bartt's story was building up nicely, but having the night end as the host drinks alcohol and condiments and then proceeds to pass out on the kitchen floor seems somewhat anticlimactic.
Winner = Rage.
I suggest we print out his list, and stick it to our refrigerators as reminders for what not to do as Halloween is right around the corner.
Muchas gracias.
Having signed on during my daily 17-minute pseudo-intellectual moment - drinking a Half-cap Double Decaffeinated Macchiato Mocha Espresso hot off the Starbucks assembly line - I feel compelled to consider broader issues than my navel. Bear with me. I'm just getting warmed up over here.
Evolution, as I see it, doesn't have a purpose, in the sense of a fixed goal to which it's advancing. Despite evolution being largely unpredictable, however, it can't truly be labeled as random either. Selection can be seen as having the implicit goal of maximizing survivability and/or fitness. This, therefore, implies a preferred direction of evolution, which is in practice characterized by increasing complexity, adaptivity and intelligence. Michigan State grads obviously need not apply.
My question, therefore, is simply this . . . What is the purpose of it all?
Simple...To make fun of Head.
42
Decidedly meager turnout this time. No need to go to R3S with this sad state of affairs. I suppose I'll have to give it to Bartt for picking on Head . . . which is generally a good idea. Pherph - I might have picked you had you said 420, which would have contained some mirth. Not really sure about the 42, however.
We promise to do better this time.
What the heck was so wrong with the original pentathlon that we needed a "modern" version?
While the original pentathlon was frequently won by scantilly clad (at the start, becoming fully nude by the end)Athenian porn stars riding on the backs of dinosaurs, the modern pentathlon usually boils down to a battle between Iron Man and Johnny Sako's robot several hundred feet in the air. Sadly, with the exception of the pteradactyls, the dinosaurs could not fly, and the modern porn stars (thanks obviously to certain breakthroughs in modern plastic surgery) are just too much for their ancient ancestors to handle so there clearly was a need for the modernization of the pentathlon.
They did it for Rage, so there could be more shooting.
Unfortunately, due to rather poor planning on the part of pentathlon designers, the original pentathlon wasn't Y2K compliant. In order to avoid thousands of athletes around the world from suffering a complete mental meltdown (after emptying their bank accounts into certain off-shore accounts owned by The Bad Guys) on December 31, 1999, the original pentathlon was re-engineered so as to provide athletes with two extra digits. Most likely one on each foot, since 6-fingered men are notorious for lying, cheating, and killing. That would be a public relations nightmare. Best to hide this little secret in an oversized pair of Nike and faghedabowdit.
Pherph, nice sucking up...but I asked the question, not Rage.
Rage, I hope you're compiling all of these musings into book form. Jack Handy ain't got nuthin' on you.
But the winner this time is TFK, who took advantage of his knowledge gained from our rooming together to craft a tale with both Johnny Sako and porn stars. Robot launch indeed! Bradley, take your best shot.
My initial idea was "shouldn't it be doggie did do", but not wanting to plagiarize I had to come up with the following.
Does it really matter which came first, the chicken or the egg?
According to Ms. Manners the answer to this question determines who buys breakfast. But I'm a man of science, not etiquette, so by using a complicated formal consisting of conditional probability, the babes to whales theorem and an omelet recipe I saw on the Food Network I have come up with the question that truly matters: Take the chicken, the egg, cheese, hash browns, a side of toast and some OJ and which comes out first?
F*** Ms. Manners! She don't know S***! Plus, it has nothing to do with buying breakfast, because I had to coyote my arm off to get out of there BEFORE breakfast! Otherwise, she would have made me leave the seat down and all that other manners crap. So I said, "Excuse Me, I's gotsta go." Just to piss her off!
The answer is the EGG. McDonald's doesn't sell Chicken Freakin' McNuggets before 11, but you can get a Sausage, Egg, and Cheese biscuit at the crack of dawn! Even if you take it up a notch from Mickey D's, at say, Denny's, you can't get a Chicken and Egg breakfast, only a Steak and Egg breakfast that, ironically, tastes like Chicken!
Seeing as how Marty just detonated with dual 8.725's in Mirth and Ingenuity, I'm at a decided disadvantage going into battle. But God hates a coward, so I shall persevere.
I think that question really only matters to evolutionary biologists, but personally, I never really understood the conundrum. Let's approach the question logically, shall we? I think we would all agree that chicken tastes like everything, right? Or almost everything. I had octopus last week and it tasted like a Michelin Tire. But I digress. Similarity in taste clearly implies some ancestral commonality. Were we to trace back all species of animal that taste like chicken, we'd quickly leave the rise of humans, primates, mammals in the dust. I submit to you, here and now, that the chicken was the very first creature to crawl out of the primordial muck. We'll call her Lucy. Being the only chicken in a world full of muck is very stressful.
Where was I going with this . . . ??
Oh oh yes . . . I remember. Lucy was able to create offspring through parthenogenesis. The process, however, wasn't 100% perfect, so some children were born with genetic mutations that, after millions of years, would evolve into completely separate species. But they still had the chicken taste gene. Science. Pure and simple.
I have no idea in hell where the egg came from, but there's no way you can convince me that an egg - no arms or legs - would be able to beat a determined chicken in a footrace out of the primordial muck. Ain't happening.
Much like I may have used our time living together to best answer the last question, Bartt was a genius to incorporate, essentially, the Grand Slam breakfast. However it is no Sleepwalker Special!
After taping my head back together (at first read Rage's answer made it explode) I had to give major points for the use of the word "conundrum" which I can only assume, given the source, is some perversion of the word "condom".
But in the end I have to give the nod to Marty. It may not be fair, at least not in the sense that "we should just keep recounting the votes in Florida until our guy wins" fair, but his opening rant was good enough that his answer to the question was irrelevant.
I'm Brad Hea and I approve of this message!
Thanks TFK.
So many random questions, so little time. Area 57, what really happened there?
Ah, very crafty question my young Padawan. Most casual observers are familiar with the history of Area 51 but few are aware of the devious history of Area 57.
(For those of you scoring at home Area 51 is a top-secret military test facility administered as Detachment 3 of the Edwards Air Force Base, California. Area 51 is not the real name for the facility; it was simply a term used on maps from the 1950s and 1960s to identify the unused land surrounding Groom Lake. Other aliases which have been applied to the facility include: The Skunkworks, Dreamland, Groom Lake Military Base, Watertown, The Ranch, Paradise Ranch and The Box. Although Area 51 was the official name for the facility until just before 1990, the name was changed to the more technical Air Force Flight Test Center, Detachment 3 (AFFTC Det. 3) in the late 1980s. The main UFOlogy interest in the base at Groom Lake comes from the belief that the debris and bodies from the Roswell Incident were taken to the Area 51 for reverse engineering and autopsies respectively.)
Area 57 is a small segment of Lee County Alabama near Opelika. Specifically, it refers to the area on both sides of Phelps Creek. In 1895 a young Henry Heinz traveled from Pittsburg to do some hunting in Alabama. His friend, L. C. Noble (no relation to NobedTM) accompanied him on the journey. After a long day of unsuccessfully tracking pheasant, Henry and L. C. set about camping for the night. Quoting from Henry’s personal journal, “It stopped raining about dusk when my friend and I started to pitch the tent. Mind you we were only camping about a mile from the road and one and a half miles from the landowner's home. After twenty minutes my friend and I sat down to read some porn and started hearing strange grunts and heavy footsteps accompanied by a foul smell. It went on for about ten minutes, with sounds getting closer and at random, as though the "animal" was trying to scare us or get us to make a move.â€
Later that same evening the “animal†attacked the camp. “I saw a large upright creature, approx. seven to eight feet tall. It was covered in hair, black to dark brown, and had an awful smell.†While the creature was rummaging through their provisions Henry and L. C. began throwing rocks and shouting. Historians argue whether it was the rocks or the pungent smell of Henry’s latest batch of horseradish that drove the creature from the encampment. Regardless, both men were shocked and vowed to keep their encounter secret for fear of being labeled insane. L.C. never mentioned the incident again but Henry was terribly upset and it haunted him until his death in 1919. Henry was so traumatized that the number ‘57’ permeated his life and the Heinz company culture. The company slogan, ’57 varieties’ is directly attributed to the encounter. As does the address of the company, P.O. Box 57, the phone number, 273-5757, and the amount they paid for naming rights to the Steelers Stadium, $57 million.
Rumors of the Area 57 encounter are well known in Lee County and throughout Alabama. In fact, the Alabama Public Radio Code for dangerous animal is “57â€. The rumors of Area 57 were finally confirmed earlier this year when Teresa Heinz sold her late husband’s great granfather’s story to The National Enquirer to help finance her husband’s presidential campaign. You may have seen the headline “Bigfoot Attacks Ketchup King†in the April 16th edition.
Just to note an observance within the story above. Henry Heinz and L.C. Noble were documented reading some porn and "pitching a tent". I highly doubt that this is mere coincidence.
Area 57, just one of the HI-larious places you can touch on the "Show me where he Tickled you, Elmo" doll! There's Area 11: HaHaHa, you touched my spleen! Area 316: You might think it's funny but there's nothing humerus about touching THAT bone. Area 93: Are you using the whole fist Doc? Area 122: Wow! I didn't even know women had a heart! And, of course, Area 57: You keep your little alien out of my secret space. Yes with the "Show me where he Tickled you, Elmo" doll you'll have areas to touch...and touch...and touch to your heart's content.**
**Therapist not included**
Well, only two answers and one comment. sedwardson gets to keep the thread going for getting the "craftiness" of my question first!
Ok, this one actually came up at a dinner party on Saturday and I had to laugh....
"If man evolved from monkeys and apes then why are there still monkeys and apes?
Man is not yet finished evolving. The next version will come from the monkeys and apes.
(Kinda like Mozilla coming back after Netscape.)
Oz answer #1:
Monkeys and apes remain on this earth today to give Buckeye fans something to aspire TO, and remind the rest of us where we came from.
Oz answer #2:
They are still alive for one simple reason: entertainment value
To this day, there are very few things as amusing as watching the ancient primate tradition of them flinging their own feces.
I have to stop coming into these debates at halftime . . . I had a viable theory to share, but after getting kicked in the balls with the wisdom DJ's flung feces factoid, I realized that anything I could add at this point would be an untruth. And we are all men of action . . . lies do not become us.
What kind of Planet of the Ape question is that? Did this person at your dinner party ever see this fine documentary?????
Even in that Sci-Fi classic, the humans and apes coexisted. Gees!
I have to give the nod to Oz #2. Flying feces is indeed one of the funniest things to watch. The apes at the Bronx Zoo have even perfected the running-front flip-press your ass against the plate glass window-pre feces toss move.
If you haven't seen it it's worth the price of admission.
You said flying feces.
Thank you ScottE., and now we go from flying feces to Reese's Pieces....
E.T. had his Reese's Pieces,
Sloth (Goonies) and Carl Spackler the groundskeeper (Caddyshack) gave some publicity to the Baby Ruth candy bar.
Adam Sandler did a stint for Subway (Happy Gilmore) and more recently Harold & Kumar went to White Castle.
What movie or which star will endorse the next type or brand of food?
Ben Affleck for SPAM - no matter what you put it in it's still crap!
Prince for Buffalo Wild Wings - it'll tear the ass right out of your pants!
Ponderosa: The Movie - a zany, madcap romp across America leads 5 teens on an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord...OF HILARITY!
Bartt's fascination with assless pants has me concerned!
As for an answer, I'd have to say The Dixie Chicks for Lone Star beer, 'cause they love everything from Texas.
Allow me to peer into my crystal ball so that I may read a brief history of things to come:
Briana Banks and Ava Devine will sign a massive contract with Burger King to endorse the Double Whopper.
Subway, hoping to cash in on the as-of-yet-untapped bulimic economic segment, will replace Jared with Mary-Kate Olsen, which will turn out to be a complete public relations turd.
Paige Davis will get together with the now imprisoned Martha Stewart for a new crazy show Trading Spaces in Prison. But that's a new show, not a food.
My crystal ball says:
Ashley Twins start pitching a new pork and beans fortified with ex-lax.
President Bill Clinton in a not-so-subtle remake
The Arkansas Fried Pork Rind Movie
We're going with Pherph on this one, boys. He gave us an idea for an entire movie. Although bonus points for Marty's Trading Places in Prison, unfortunately it lacked food content.
If Marty's show teamed up with Mary Kate Olsen, Dixie Chicks, and Prince - you'd have yourself one helluva blockbuster
Is Ross-Ade (Purdue's Stadium) really a beverage? What kind of beverage? Can it be obtained in chewing gum form? Or is it something else entirely?
(DanDan and Bitsy helped formulate the question.)
A possible death trap for my kids if I don't hold them for dear life? A glorified high school stadium with a really nice press box? Gathering place for 65,000 people with their hair parted down the middle (gratuitious Indiana slam)?
Not to mention a Tiller-stache klan gathering.
Ross-Ade is not, in fact, a beverage. It is the name of a charity concert held back in 1922 for boiler construction magnate Arnold "Ross" Rossman. After Rossman's fortune was decimated by the great boiler famine of 1921, the citizens of (now defunct)East Lafayette and (still funct) West Lafayette Indiana, having nothing better to do with their time other than whittle sticks into sharper, pointier sticks decided to put on a benefit for old Ross. Unfortunately, having little creative ability and an overabundance of music based on the harmony between the washboard, the banjo and the moonshine jug there was little variety among the scheduled acts. As the grand finale the townsfolk built a giant drum, with the intention of playing a medley of rock ballads from the 1980s (an astounding feat considering it was 1921). To their surprise and dismay the first blow caused a shockwave that destroyed Rossman's shantytown constructed from spare boiler parts, and the concert was halted after earning a meager $9.23. This money was used to construct a glorified high school stadium for the football program at Purdue University, with the media dubbing it the "Ruins of Ross-Ade". The locals mistakenly took this as a compliment and shortened the name to Ross-Ade stadium. Arnold "Ross" Rossman died in the spring of 1927 after attending a wild party and waking up in a bathtub full of ice with his kidneys removed.
And now you know the rest of the story.
Clearly Bartt takes this round.
Is soap, by nature, always clean or when you wash your face (or hands, or naughty bits) does it get dirty?
Without a doubt, the soap gets dirty. So, after washing my hands and naughty bits, I wash the soap.
Then, of course, my hands get soapy again, but they are now clean. So I carefully rinse the soap trying to not make new suds, and then I rinse my hands one last time.
But it's not the soap ritual that frosts my buns, it's the freakin' paper towel ritual in a mens public bathroom.
After going through the soap ritual in the mens bathroom (sans naughty bits), you often get to crank that freakin' lever to get one sheet of paper towel while the water drips on the floor and all over my sleeves. I use one towel to get most of the water off my hands. I then crinkle the towel and use it to cleanly perform the next crank. I can then crank out two sheets of paper to thoroughly dry my hands.
Other rituals include the "blow dry" your hands in hot and humid Florida. Yeah, like that works!
And most recently, the "wave-your-hands-in-front-of-that-freakin-motion-sensor" for more water, soap, or paper towel.
And even, the "unbalanced" toilet paper dispensers. Woo-Wee! Except when my naughty bits and bum are covered with you know what!
Actually soap and performs the same function as anti-matter does. When it comes in contact with dirt, wherever it may be, the dirt ceases to exist in this time space continuum.
This concept is not my own. Dr. Stephen Hawking or Steve-o as his fiends like to call him told me about this at a party at Colin Powell's house. You see Colin's housekeeper had forgotten to buy soap for the entire house. This created an awkward situation for Colin and his guests due to the fact that we had just finished watching our female "entertainers" mud wrestling show and we all had mud on our hands. We were just about to resort to the unhygienic practice of eating hot wings without washing our hands when Steve-o pulled out a jar of anti-matter. He explained that since we were out of soap we could use his personal stash of anti-matter. Well let me tell you; anti-matter works just as good as soap. Dan Brown was there and thought this whole anti-matter/soap concept was pretty cool. He wrote the book Angels & Demons based on the idea. His original plot involved the villains using soap to destroy the Vatican, but his editor made him change it to anti-matter.
Marty and Kossen are both right.
I just want to suggest to Marty that he make the first two cranks on the paper dispenser before he gets his hands all wet.
And why doesn't Marty wash his naughty parts? They might get naughtier if unwashed (or worse yet, no one will want to help them get naughtier.)
Soap actually is dirt. When we apply basic math and multiply the dirt (a negative)on our bodies by the soap (which is dirt, a negative) we get clean (a positive).
This is a tough decision...almost as tough as deciding which CMU co-ed will get the pleasure of my company this week. I choose Mr. Kossen, mainly because he hasn't asked a question yet. But a fine effort by everyone involved.
Bartt, pick the girl, not the guy!
Also, I got too busy to post an answer to Pherphs' question about Ross-Ade stadium, but it is an anagram for "Rode-Ass" which pretty much sums up their season among other things.
Pherph, I've tried your pre-crank solution only to have some harry magot steal my already cranked towel.
I look forward to Kossen's question.
In sports the winning team usually thanks God for helping them to win. Thus giving God an astonishing winning percentage. Given that Notre Dame is also supposed to have God on their side. What are the inplications of U of M having a winning record against Notre Dame?
I know the answer is supposed to be witty, but the answer is that University of Michigan has much closer ties to God than Notre Dame!
You compare for yourself:
http://info.detnews.com/history/story/index.cfm?id=184&category=people
http://www.nd.edu/aboutnd/about/history/index.shtml
Now all the Pi Kapps have gone to hell,
Yo Ho,
Yo Ho!
Now all the Pi Kapps have gone to hell,
Yo Ho,
Yo Ho!
Now all the Pi Kapps have gone to hell,
we.....(we all know the rest of the story)
Notre Dame thinks they have God on their side, but their inability to spell actually puts dog on their side. And as we all know from Ogre in Revenge of the Nerds II, if dog where spelled C-A-T it would blow everyone's mind. And since your mind is now blown, that means Notre Dame really has cat on their side...and nobody really likes cats. So in summary, The Fighting Irish are pussies. And I would like to thank Jesus Christ, Mohammed, Vishnu and the Reverends Jerry Falwell & Al Sharpton for giving me the strength to write this.
Domers sold their souls (collectively and individually) a long time ago - and it wasn't to God. Further they just keep renewing the lease.
It’s a tough call but I have to give this one to Bartt. His ability to use a logical proof to conclusively prove that the Notre Dame Irish are pussies is not only profound but could be used as a basis to transform our society. Much in the same way Sir Isaac Newton transformed the world with is laws of physics.
DJ was oh so close and probably would have won if he had also provided the words to "I wish all the ladies..."
Thank you Matt. And in honor of MICHIGANoSUCKS week, I offer this:
Has any player with a winning reputation ever sucked as badly as Craig Krenzel?
Krenzel
John Navarre?
Yes. But very few.
Kirk Herbstreit? Stanley Jackson? Joe Germaine?
Jason White? Josh Heupel?
Bartt,
If I answer "Ron Powlus", does that bring this entire forum topic full circle?
Or, if you want to analyze some trends in players who don't amount to crap even after establishing winning traditions, the generic answer could be any non-Big Ten, Heisman Trophy winner in the last 15 years (with Ricky "Hash Bash" Williams being the sole exception)
Big Ten winners in last 15 years:
Charles Woodson
Desmond Howard
Eddie George
and Ron Dayne (OK....he isn't doing that well this year, but humor me, because he had a great NFL preseason)
Non-Big Ten winners (not ranked in order of suckiness):
Jason White, Carson Palmer, Chris Weinke, Danny Wuerffel, Rashaan Salaam, Charlie Ward, Gino Torretta, Ty Detmer, and Andre Ware. And my personal vote for biggest football player turd is:
Eric Crouch
the QB from Nebraska drafted in the 3rd round by the Rams, only to "retire" from football 9 months after losing his final collegiate game, because the Rams wanted to use him as a WR.
Thats just F'd up. In order to retire from a sport, I propose that one needs to actually play the sport professionally first. Otherwise, its known as QUITTING.
Hell, if Eric Crouch "retired" from the NFL, then Vivs can also say he retired from the NFL (maybe the Chargers wouldn't trade his draft rights to the Packers. Or better yet, Pherph is now retired from the NBA because he was never able to perfect the coach-in-a-headlock maneuver. Bartt, I guess that means you can now retire from the Professional Roller Derby Association.
As for me, I am now officially retired from the Pro Boxing Circuit, and will now be found peddling my own healthy food grill on late night infomercials.
For the record.
I did perfect my coach-in-a-headlock move. However, I never used it because I am a team player and I respect my coaches and the game.
I retired from the NBA because I couldn't get the proper time off to work on my rap album (or post to the Forum).
Thank you for your continued support.
I was the Deion Sanders of Roller Derby...I would finish my Jai Alai match in the morning and fly cross country to my Thunderbirds playoff game that night. It seems like just yesterday I was dumping that ice cold bucket of chum over Jim McTarver's head for criticizing my decision to play two sports in 1 day. Good times.
The simple answer to Bartt's ?, is "No".
No one with a winning reputation has ever sucked as bad as Craig Pretzel.
Antoine "the Judge" Jorbert.
As much as I enjoy Antoine Joubert references, and I really enjoy Antoine Joubert references, I'm going with Jamie. Because Krenzel really sucks AND I'm pissed off that we made Troy Smith look Michael freakin Vick yesterday so answers ripping the Suckeyes get extra points. And while Pherph played some good cards in Herbstreit, Jackson and Germaine, Krenzel won a national title so he trumps the others.
VI, axe away.
I'm extremely disappointed that Bartt, of all people, did not select Antoine Joubert as the winner. I couldn't stop laughing while typing in his jerry-curl wearin', pot belly slappin', overrated name.
I'll wait for VI's next question.
Thank you, sir Bartt. And to Marty ... Antoine Joubert could never win given his maize and blue background. That would be an insult.
Forgetting for a moment the tOSUcks game ... here is my question ...
In a battle of the Wolverines vs. mini-Wolverines, where all players on the field were simultaneously being tickled (during the entire game) by magic tickling hands ... what existing beer (real brands only please) would best represent the victors and why?
Taking into account mini-tickling, football, and victorious I'm going with one of the following....
Little Creatures Brewing Company - Litle Creatures Pilsner
Sackets Harbor Brewing Company - Funny Cide
Orkney Islands - Skull Splitter
California Stone Brewing Company - Arrogant Bastard Ale
and finally just because I lilke the name....
Crannog Ales - Back Hand of God Stout
This is unquestionably a matchup between the Beast(Wolverines) and the Beast light(mini-Wolverines). And in a stunning upset, predicted only by our very own Shickie-poo, the Beast light wins. Apparently the magic tickling hands couldn't find as many ticklish spots on the mini-Wolverines; maybe they should have resorted to lighting their hair on fire?
The magic tickling hands were actually clones of the players own hands ... and since we all know that you're not ticklish if you tickle yourself ... the tickling hands had no impact on the outcome of the game.
Furthermore, in a battle between the Wolverines and mini-Wolverines there would never be a winner. And with the game being played at the Big House ... the answer to this question is obviously ... any one of the Tied House brews http://www.tiedhouse.com).
TFK had the best angle with the mini-Wolverines being un-tickle-able and for also making reference to the Beast Light ... so fire away FK!
Thank you, VI.
We all know people can walk and talk in their sleep. Many of us also know lil Liv sleeps with his eyes open. That being said, how do you know if someone is actually awake?
There are a number of ways to verify whether or not someone is awake:
1) Obtain a length of wood suitable for clubbing. Drive a 9" spike thru the business end. Sneak up upon person with cat-like grace. With a blood-curdling yell, leap into action and swing club as if you were trying to clear the centerfield fence by about 75 yards. Aim for xyphoid process. If person is asleep, the spike will penetrate their flesh within a couple inches of the intended target. If they were awake, they will have curled into a ball out of instinct, and the spike will enter their side somewhere between the 4th and 5th rib.
2) Attempt to gouge out person's eyes. If they were asleep, you'll succeed easily and their screams of pain and anguish will occur about 7 seconds after you rip their eyes from their sockets. If they were awake at the time, the scream will occur immediately and you will most likely have a real fight on your hands.
3) Kick them as hard as you possibly can right in the balls. Whether or not they were asleep before, they're awake now.
As TFK can attest, the old Bartt would have answered this question in this depressing fashion, “Am I alone? Then I must be awake.” However, the new and improved upbeat Bartt refuses to let negativity rule his world. As such, I have developed a 5 point test for determining sleepy time versus awakenitude.
1) If I'm enjoying a bright, warm day, I'm awake. If it's in Michigan, I'm asleep.
2) If I’m eating, I’m awake. If I’m eating pizza topped with crystal meth and glass, I’m asleep.
3) If the New England Patriots are in the Super Bowl, I’m awake. If they’re playing the Detroit Lions, I’m asleep.
4) If Ron Artest is acting crazy and attacking fans, I’m awake. If he’s doing it at an afterparty for Allure’s best album Grammy, I’m asleep.
5) If Jamie Foxx gives an Oscar worthy performance in a movie, I’m awake. If he’s playing Herve Villechaize in “Da Plane! Da Plane! The not so fantasy life of Tatu”, I’m asleep.
Excellent answer by Bartt, but since I am afraid Rage may actually try one or more of his ideas on me should he lose, he wins!
If Buffy the Vampire Slayer were tasked with killing Blade, who would win and why?
The simple answer is, of course, you - The Viewer. But this forum isn't about the simple answer, so let's break this down:
First, we need to know if we're talking Kristy Swanson movie Buffy or Sarah Michelle Jessica Jennifer Courtney Thorne Love Geller TV Buffy? If we can agree that it's TV Buffy, are we talking younger, booby valley girl Buffy or older, emaciated forlorn Buffy? Then we have to question why I would know the difference in the first place. I feel shame. After careful consideration of all these factors, the conclusion is obvious: Always bet on Black.
Blade in a romp.
Wouldn't Blade be distracted by Buffy's womanly wiles and lulled into complacency?
In an interesting twist Buffy would not be successful in her quest to kill Blade because she would become his partner/consort. We all know Buffy has a thing for vampires with a heart of gold (ala Angel, her first) Thus while her great high kicks and judo chops would challenge Blade, she would be unable to drive the spike through Blade's heart.
I imagine her stradling Blade with the spike over her head, her chest heaving from the intense fight, when her passion for good vampires overwhelms her and a passionate (and dirty) scene ensues between Slayer and Daywalker... oh yeah.... Just like that... I gotta go....
I'm torn. I particularly liked the pornographic tangent, although pictures and/or diagrams would have been more helpful.
In the end, I had to go with Bartt for his well-placed Passenger 57 reference. It would be a helluva fight for, oh, about 5 seconds . . . and then . . . Slayer Sashimi!
Thanks Rage!
It's the holiday season, so let me ask a holiday question:
What's the most emasculating gift you can think of that a woman (or a man, I suppose) would buy for a man?
Venus razors.
Oven mitts.
Pantyhose.
french maid outfit
ballgag
coupons for vacuum pump penis enlarger
solid leather hood w/single zipper mouth opening & matching dog collar w/leash
Instead of a George Foreman Grill, she presents you a George Foreman rubber replica from the Sharper Image and plants it in your bedroom.
After reluctantly watching Revenge of the Nerds with you (because it's a classic), she presents you with a Darth Vadar mask.
She gives you one of her old girdles, not because she's up to something kinky, but because "it makes your tummy look like you still run five miles a day."
I know that Bartt gets to decide, but Marty seems to have won this round.
I am not sure what is so bad about Rage's list...
I'm going to go with Marty mostly because his entry read like a therapy session and I don't want to stifle his recovery.
If you were going to sell a "get-rich-quick-scheme", what would it be? And how would you market it?
How about a Friend of Pherph scheme?
For only a $1 a month, you can claim to be a Friend of Pherph with all of the priviledges and responsibilities of being a real Friend of Pherph.
I think it would market itself.
Oh by the way, select Friends of Pherph would be able to sell Friends of Pherph wristbands and keep half the proceeds.
It Pays to Be a Friend of Pherph
I'd form my own Multi-Level-Marketing company along the lines of Amway-Equinox-Melaleuca-Quixtar-Herbalife-Market America. I would not sell anything since it really doesn't matter what I sell, only that I get ten other people to want to sign up and if each of them get ten other people to sign up I'll be rich in no time!
Additionally I'll align my new company with patriotic causes. That way if someone opposes me I can accuse them of being unpatriotic and against all things Americans hold sacred. (God, Country, Money, getting hoodwinked by shysters like me, etc).
So, have you ever wanted to be financially independent? Give me a call (1-800-IAM-RICH), I'll show you how to become financially independent in the greatest country in the world. No obligations except for the "motivating" phone calls.
I would start a duck laundering franchise. Probably take out ads in Money, USA Today, etc. Avoiding Guns & Ammo, of course. Think about it . . . how many times have you been ready to leave for some important engagement, but you couldn't go because your duck was filthy. I forsee explosive growth potential, because currently there are no such businesses listed anywhere on Google. The first hit was:
http://www.kinderstart.com/bringinghomebaby/diapers/
And I highly doubt they'd launder a duck. I haven't worked out the franchising fees, but I'm sure they'd be enough to make me wealthy . . . which, in the end, is all that matters.
Oops, sorry for tying up this thread.
I'd definitely pay to be a friend of Pherph. That's for certain.
And Kossen gets bonus points for his idea of oppressing the opposition as "unpatriotic." He would have won if he mentioned he'd do all this is a jacket covered in question marks.
Rage; however, pointed out the obvious. I have a filthy duck! He gets to go!
How many angels can writhe in tortured agony skewered on the pointy end of a pin?
Infinite, but you have to stack them just so...
like angel Jenga
Trick question! Angels do not writhe since they are benevolent celestial beings that act as intermediants between Heaven and earth.
This is analagous to the fact that Women do not fart, they "go toot"!
It was a toss-up, but in the end I had to go with Pherph, mostly because I want to remain a Friend of Pherph in good standing . . .
Plus I like to play Jenga when I'm drunk.
Alright, we have had a few days to calm down, and now it is time for the ridiculous question...
If you really jumped off the Michigan bandwagon, who's bandwagon would you join and why?
The USC bandwagon would seem to be the logical choice, seeing as how they just kicked the living hell out of Oklahoma and will probably have an even better team next year (Leinart is returning - he wants to make history). But the waitlist for that bandwagon is impossibly long, so forget that.
I could swim against the stream and say Utah, but my need to be different isn't so great that I need to paint myself an idiot. I mean, c'mon . . . it's Utah for Christ's sake. Gimme a break.
Auburn? They coulda woulda shoulda lost, and if they had played USC, the score would probably have been 75 - 19. Nah, despite their vaunted strength of schedule, I'm not overly impressed. Cross them off the list.
Notre Dame? (new coach) Ohio State? (kicked ass in their bowl game) I won't even dignify those two options with responses.
I have to admit, my true Blue blood boiled over after the Rose Bowl (refer to any of my 1/1 posts circa 8 p.m. for clarification) and I felt overwhelming despair crushing my skull to the point of critical mass. Immediately after the game I:
(all true)
1. Tore to shreds all my Michigan clothes - this included 14 t-shirts, 5 sweatshirts, and 3 sweatpants. (In retrospect, I'm rather pissed off at myself now - it felt great at the time, but now I have to purchase all new clothes. I justify it by believing those clothes were cursed.)
2. Flung my Xbox NCAA Football 2005 disk off my porch (I had played the Rose Bowl matchup earlier in the day and secured a Michigan victory to the tune of 63 - 17). It landed on a neighbor's porch (2nd floor), and they're on vacation still . . . might still get that one back.
3. Threw my Michigan keychain (sans keys) in the pool.
So a couple things are clear . . . first, I have anger management issues. I am called 'Rage', however, so I'm pretty much at peace with that failing. Second, even a true Blue rabid Michigan fan like myself has his breaking point. Losing 2 of the last 3 to Notre Dame (a mediocre ND at that), 3 of the last 4 to OSUcks, and the past two Rose Bowls (Not to mention random assblastings by Tennessee, Iowa, etc.) . . . it's enough to make me want to kick out a stained glass window!! So, in all honesty, I have to admit that from 8 p.m. on January 1, 2005 to 11:30 a.m. on January 2, 2005 . . . I was not a Michigan fan for the first time in my life. I jumped off the bandwagon. Hell, I nearly jumped off the roof. I really need to start taking this shit less seriously.
So during my brief period of time out of the Light, I could have very well jumped on another bandwagon. But if there's one thing I hate more than ND, MSUcks, OSUcks, USC, Texas, or any of the other clods who have shaved years off my lifespan . . . and that's a fairweather fan. I snapped, got it out of my system (felt damn good, in fact - altho I've made a mental note to secure Michigan apparel during our next bowl game). As such, the bandwagon I choose to join now is:
MICHIGAN!!!
Let me tell you something . . . there are going to be some Old Testament Paybacks comin' to a variety overinflated egos next season. I truly believe Michigan is the greatest school and team on Earth, even if we sometimes play far below our massive potential. I believe in the American Flag, apple pie, that Good eventually triumphs over Evil, and that Michigan will once again scale the Mountain we climbed in 1997. And if you aren't on the wagon now, you have no business trying to sneak on when we do it again.
I really do hope Leinart comes back. I honestly hope they are better than this year and make a return trip to the National Championship . . . and I hope one real pissed off Wolverine team is waiting for them with a whole truckload of whupass!! It's Fate. Hollywood couldn't have scripted it any better.
GO BLUE!!!
Rage, it might be time to give Cuj a call. You ripped up 22 articles of clothing? I think the worst I have done is flung my remote control across the room shattering it to pieces.
This might be a good opportunity for a topic on craziest act caused by a UM sports event. Rage, if you would have crushed your skull, you would have won.
I needed an assist from the scissors to take care of the sweatshirts. Those suckers are built to last. I probably should have taken the time to go somewhere for a breather, esp. since one of the sweatshirts was brand new w/tags still on it . . . but once Destiny takes you by the hand, what can you do?
Whew!
We went a week and everyone thought hard about it and realized that there is no other bandwagon.
Rage had the courage to step forward and confess his weakness and return to senses.
I know that truly he destroyed his Michigan gear in order to increase our licensing fees when replacing all the good stuff.
But Rage should ask the next question.
Why is it my condo association makes dog owners pick up dog crap, but cat owners don't have to pick up cat crap? And it isn't because cats bury their load - that little lie should be exposed on Mythbusters any day now. I personally observed my neighbor's cat take a big wet dump on the lawn and then stroll merrily off to contemplate Life.
Why are dog owners forced to pick up dog crap, but cat owners get away scott-free (and shit-free)? The answer, I am afraid, is much much bigger than the question you pose. The poop-pickup conundrum is just the tip of the iceberg. It is merely a hint at the much larger issue, an oppressive social hierarchy that has been bred thru humanity since the beginning of human civilation.
The simple answer to your question is that cats and their owners represent those in power. The dogs (and their owners) are the common folk. Therefore cats (and owners) make the rules, dogs must follow them.
Just look at our culture today. Cats are proper, graceful, independent, strong. Dogs are lazy, obedient, chew rawhide bones, and drag their asses across carpet. Our culture's language even reflects the hierarchical differences between cat and dog: working like a dog, dog-eat-dog world, dog days, doggin' it; all these phrases signify the common man just barely scrapin' to get by. Compared to cat references: top cat, big cat, nine lives, cool cat, cat's in the cradle, Cat in the Hat; all of which signify the cat is in charge and leads a pampered life.
Cat's eat food out of a fancy can, dogs eat out of 50 lb. bgs
We can even look back to ancient Egyptian times, when cats were worshipped as gods.
"I am the Cat which battled heroically on the night when the enemies of the Setting Sun were overwhelmed. And who is this Cat? This Cat is the Sun-God Ra himself..."
From The Book of the Dead, 3000 B.C
So we learn from our predecessors, don't piss off the Cat-God Ra, or the equally famous Anubis who will weigh your soul. Don't f*ck with those cats!
On the other hand, I have never heard mention of any ancient civilizations bowing down and paying homage to the spear-throwing, fire-breathing deity of war, Spot. Or the lightning bolt-throwing, leg-humping, god of fertility, Rover.
It is no fault of our own. This oppressive social hierarchy has been in existence for years, and will continue to impose its heartless will on our society. So many famous and powerful people who belong to this cat society have continuously done all in their power to make sure the cats stay at the top, and keep us dogs here at the bottom. All the way from the Sun God Ra himself, thru Napoleon, Genghis Khan, Hitler, Dr. Seuss, Catwoman, and even Puss-in-Boots.
So yes, the dogs in our world today will go on scooping poop, while the cats prance about merrily, quietly celebrating their triumph over the remainder of us commonfolk.
Get used to it, Cats rule, and Dogs....well....they drool. Seriously.
Poor DJ has been corrupted by too much propaganda.
I read a short story by Kurt Vonnegut which truly exposed the situation. It was entitled "Einstein's Dog" and tells the story of how Einstein invented a machine that could detect IQ by placing a set of head phones on the subjects head.
The narrator of the story got a respectable number. Einstein came in quite a bit higher, but Einstein's dog (when eventually trapped) came in 50 points higher than Einstein. The dog escaped, promptly opened a door closed with a door knob and was torn to shreds by the neighborhood dogs for exposing the secret.
We clean up dogshit because the dogs are demonstrating their dominance over humans. This conspiracy goes all the way up into government who pass laws to enforce the dogs dominance.
Dogs make us feed them, bathe them, doctor them and entertain them.
Cats are just along for that ride.
I have to give the nod to Oz because he managed to weave Anubis, Ra, Hitler, and Catwoman into his response. It was the final reference which pushed him over the top. Halle Berry in dominatrix mode: NICE NICE NICE!!!
I didn't mean to let this thread die....just had a bried hiatus from work due to the second child being born, but now I can get back to the important things in my life like typing jokes in an online forum and thinking up non-vulgar names for students to cheer at hockey games.
So here we go:
In lieu of our government's recent challenges with funding the impending Social Security disaster, what would you recommend be done in order to solve this problem?
How about kill all the old people who do not amuse me?
That would lessen considerably the payouts that Social Security is facing.
PLUS, it would be great to watch the old people compete to amuse me. Grandmas would be baking cookies galore. Grandpas sweating to make sure they get the punch line right ('cause if they miss, I go thumbs down on them and save a lot of SSA checks.)
Sure, it is like Bladerunner, but a lot more fun. We could even have a reality TV show as old people try their best to get a few more years.
Just print more money. Duh.
Two words: Logan's Run.
Of course, that means I would have to die but I'm confident in my ability to run and find Sanctuary.
I think we should, as a nation, give up on the whole Social Security idea, because it's a joke & we all know it. So instead of continuing to delude ourselves, we should take all the money out and throw one giant month-long nationwide bash! Party our asses off, everyone gets bombed, hookers galore!!
After which, people who don't have enuf money to live off of will eventually die off. Problem solved.
I like Rage's idea of one big party, but Pherph's concept of a reality TV concept with sweaty grandpas tryng to appease The Pherph via vaguely memorized jokes sounds like a winner to me.
Thank you. I can be bribed to keep you alive long into your retirement.
I have long wondered about having Olympic Athletes cross compete...
For example, making a figure skater do the biathalon or vice-versa. Make a weight lifter do sychronized swimming or diving (sychronized).
What would be the most compelling combination of Olympic events?
Equestrian and Boxing
sumo wrestling and the luge
Actually, just about any other event becomes compelling when there are sumo wrestlers involved: diving, pole vault, uneven bars, the vault
Equestrian ski jumping and gymnastic fencing could be fun, but I still think Sumo wrestlers on the luge would be best
I'd buy tickets
Volleyball and the javelin.
Equestrian with water polo is a natural fit.
Badminton with a shot put.
Sorry for the delay.
The correct answer is
Women's water polo followed by a nude game of dodge ball by the same players.
Yes, I know this is illegal because
1) I answered my own question
2) Dodgeball is technically not an Olymplic sport. (I think we can get that overturned.)
3) I only realized it was the right answer on Monday, after everybody else had already responded. Plus, instead of combining, I kinda went sequential.
So, while there were a lot of good answers, I am going with DJ because even though Sumo isn't really an Olympic sport, the picture of those guys on the luge in their wrestling gear is a hilarious image.
Dodgeball in the 2008 Summer Games, I can't wait!
After just having heard Bud Light's latest "Real Men of Genius" ad for the Mr. Hot Stock Tip Giver-Outer, if you had to make a Real Men of Genius ad, who would you base it on? In other words, what job or person do you think is so under-appreciated, they should have their own jingle. Bonus points awarded the more detailed the jingle is (i.e. - discuss aspects of the person/job that you wish to highlight).
Here's to you, Mr. Random Question-Answerer, for without your well-thought out posts, how else would I be able to waste chunks of time during my workday typing out inane messages on some fraternity forum.
Now let's hear your ad....
Mr. Emoticon Designer
This Bud's for you!
You started with the
but didn't stop there! You found frowny face!
Open mouth gaping face
Winking face. Google Eye face and when the keyboard was all used up you found us
ANIMATED Emoticons so that we could have little yellow smiley faces created heart-shaped kisses or mooning me!
E-mail will never be the same.
So open a Bud on us and ;)
Wow, what an overwhelming response to that question. Pherph, the judges have unanimously voted to award you the funniest response to the "Real Men of Genius" question.
Even though it was the only submission, it was pretty good. You may even want to consider e-mailing Anheuser-Busch to see if they want to use your idea. Or better yet, e-mail it to Kossen, and see if Miller wants to make another anti-Budwesier ad using your Mr. Emoticon designer idea.
Pherph, have a go at another question and see if we can't get some more responses on this thread.
If you could change one thing (one thing only please) about women, what would it be?
Please remember that this change should apply to all women.
Bigger boobs. Technically that would be two things, but getting just one implant would look strange.
Sex on Demand with any woman, anywhere. It'd be just like Clan of the Caveman when the leader of the clan just pops his fist into the palm of his hand which was the signal for "let's go have sex."
I know Pherph stipulated only 'one thing', but can anyone dispute that merging my idea with Marty's would be a monumental step forward in human evolution? I think not.
I'd have them carry a government approved, board certified list of their psychoses. That way you don't have to wait 48 hours to find out she has 11 cats or thinks a second phone call is an implied marriage proposal.
For the record, I wouldn't object to Marty's or Rages ideas either.
The correct answer is...
Nymphomania upon a trigger word (with a shut off word as well).
The problem is that some women need smaller boobs. Rage, you know that is true.
Bartt's idea is a strong one.
Steve Sarrica suggested removing the irritability hormone.
But also long as you have nymphos on command...
Marty wins, because he was so close AND made an excellent allusion to Jean Auel's 'Clan of the Cave Bear'. Because I am so nitpicky, I will point out that the sex command he references was used to effectively rape the heroine. Now, of course that rape leads to the hope for humanity, but rape is still bad.
That's why you need to turn them to nymphos and then you don't have a problem with consent. (You can't have them all be nymphos all the time because then when could you watch sports?)
Go, Marty, Go.
Smaller boobs. Now I *KNOW* you're on drugs.
Thanks Pherph! No way was I implying rape – it was a caveman – he’d rather just club her and drag her by her hair and have his way. Though. the movie name was “Clan of the Cave Bear” so good catch.
You're a dangerous convict and you've just escaped from prison and have a 15 minute lead on the guards and dogs. How do you assure your escape? Feel free to provide as many details or embellishments as possible. Bonus points for specific hiding places, side plots, and long term plan.
Any takers on my random question posted above?
Unfortunately, during my escape, I stopped off at a nearby strip club to get some lap dances from a particularly big breasted dancer. That was the first place the US Marshals looked for me. So I was back in jail long before I could implement my Master Plan. Which is probably a good thing. It was hideously devious and decidedly underhanded.
This is an outstanding question and I am sorry that I have taken so long to formulate my plan...(and that it isn't stronger).
I think that I would use the time to grow about a foot - that should not only shake my pursuers, but increase my liklihood of being a better basketball player.
Rage gets to go, not because his answer was of typical Rage calibir, but I always seem to get caught when I have this dream of breaking out of prison. I can say though, I was never stupid enough (in my dreams) to go straight to the titty bar.
Hey . . . gimme a break! I just got out of prison! My first priority (before even World Domination) is to fondle some succulent chest pillows!
Who is John Galt?
A close personal friend of Ferris Bueller?
The transvestite Clay Codner encountered in a bathroom at Mardi Gras?
The real answer is WAY too deep for my tastes. But, John Galt ought to be the name of Mr. Incredibles.
The founder of Galt Disney World?
In the end it was a photo finish between Bartt and Oz . . . upon closer examination, judges determined that Bartt squeezed out a victory.
I wonder how Ayn Rand would feel about JG being reduced to giving out blowjobs at Mardi Gras...
Read all about it in her least known book, "Atlas Gagged."
The irresistible force or the immovable object...which one is a wuss?
The classic immovable object is the sports couch potato. Tough words - no action (only complaining).
Must be the immovable object.
I'm not sure I'd label either a wuss, couch potato submission notwithstanding. When I think of irresistible force and immovable object, I think Superman and the Hulk. I'm not calling either one of them a wuss. This reminds me of an old discussion I used to have with friends . . . the Superman vs. The Hulk Nad Smash. Basically, each gets one shot to kick the other as hard as he possibly can right in the nuts. Whoever kicks the hardest, wins. Sorta. The loser could be called the wuss, I suppose. In the end, I had to go with Superman . . . primarily because The Hulk's foot is about 2 feet wide and as a result wouldn't be able to focus the full fearsome impact of his kick on Superman's balls. Superman, on the other hand, could kick one Hulk testicle into solar orbit by virtue of his smaller foot.
Immovable object in a rout. Imagine if you will, and it shouldn't be too hard for many of us, the irresistible force of the drunken stumble. Without fail this fearsome force leads to an impact with an immovable object such as pavement. Unless any of you have broken the pavement and caused no harm to yourself then the immovable object has won, and won, and won, and,for some of us,won...
Superman and Hulk are sweet, but sidewalk versus head is a battle of truly mind altering proportion. TFK, fire away.
Robert Frost once wrote "Who's woods these are I think I know, his house is in the village though..." Whose woods were they?
P.S. I know this is kind of weak, but I saw a reference to the poem today and can't get it out of my head!
Jason Vorhees. Stay the hell out of the damn woods.
Tiger's ?
Since my question obviously sucked, and no one wants to play I will just say Rage wins, and I will do better if I ever win this again!
I think it has less to do with ur post sucking and more to do with a tsunami of apathy. We need to get back to what this category was at the start . . . in-depth creative responses. I've been guilty of the one-line responses myself, but that quickly gets boring. I'm rating all responses on the R3S scale (see above) and if all responses suck, then I'm declaring a mistrial and re-posting. Somebody PLEASE astonish me with your mutant creativity.
In a recent survey 84% of people said they couldn't live without this. What is it and why?
84 is 2x42. The 42nd president was William Jefferson Clinton. He liked to poke chubby interns. George Jefferson liked to poke fun of Florence the maid. MADE is a movie starring Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau, both of whom also starred in Swingers. Swingers had the line "Vegas, baby. Vegas." Vegas has gambling and hookers. Sleeping with a hooker is a gamble. Oscar Gamble had the sweetest baseball 'fro of the 1970's. The 1970's gave us the birth of Saturday Night Live which produced many a side splitting comedy moment for the next 30 years. So you ask me what it is that 84% of the people couldn't live without? The answer is elementary...they couldn't live without seeing the Chris Farley/Patrick Swayze SNL Chippendales sketch one last time before they die.
You want a piece of my heart
You better start from the start!
You wanna be in the shoooooow
C'mon baby let's gooooooo!
Their right hand.
That covers porn and violence because it is the weapon hand for a vast majority of us.
Another ridiculous, sad turnout. We need to start imposing sanctions. I read Bartt's answer three times, each time coming closer to understanding it. The mental image of Farley's goo flopping all over the place in that SNL skit was enuf to push it over the top, tho.
Bartt, proceed suh.
We're in a rut, but I feel that the freshness of spring will reawaken our collective creative juices.
If you could capture sasquatch (or yeti or abominable snowman) what would you do with him?
If he has eligibility left, train him to play offensive line or maybe running back.
I would keep "him" away from TFK. Thank you very much!
Alternate answer for Bartt!
I would huge him and squeeze him and call him George!
Ouch Poch, ouch! As a sidebar, Marty your cousin or whatever relation reffed my hockey game the other night. It was pretty cool to have a pro ref a beer league game.
As for the question, you would take him down to Columbus, tell sweater boy he's a blue chip from the Amazon Jungle, and split the cash with him. I'm thinking 70-30, how much could Sasquatch need anyway?
Pherph brought the reasoned answer. Brad brought a similar answer, but with a capitalist twist. But Marty made fun of Brad, and despite the fact that it was actually Bryan that scored a sasquatch I'm giving the man who owns Steve Avery the nod. Marty, it's all you.
Sidebar to TKF: That was my cousin ref'ing your game the other night; but, he's not the pro - his older brother is.
My random question:
After getting struck by lightning and now blinded, where does your un-trained leader dog take you while strolling about?
Hmm . . . well, I'd probably take my blind dog to the nearest strip bar and let him relax on the couch while I got a few dozen lap dances.
On the off chance you meant that I'm the one blinded, we'll need to discuss sentence structure. We can do that at the strip bar, since my dog knows me well enough to take me there in the event of a crisis.
Rage is funny and grammatically correct. I also read Marty's sentence as dealing with a blind leader dog.
The problem with taking the dog with you for lap dances is that because he is untrained, his nose will always be in the crotch of the performers (and perhaps yours as well) throwing her groove off.
If the dog is blind, then I have to drag him away from the bitches in the adjoining back yard.
If I am blind, then he just needs to take me to the couch and bring me the remote to make sure I get my sports coverage.
Then somebody has to train him how to get some chips out the pantry. My kids can take care of that.
Dateline Wheeling, West Virginia: Blind dogs can learn new tricks
An eleven-toed Wheeling native was arrested today after his newly blinded, un-trained leader dog guided him to an asian health spa under surveillance as an illegal brothel. Officials said their suspicions were aroused initially by a sign reading "Truckers Welcome!" "When we saws the guy with the dog enter we knew something was up," said sheriff's deputy Cletus T. Cletus, "'specially when we figured out the guy could see." A police spokesperson would not release the name of the man in custody, but a local resident familiar with the case described him as a "husky yokel."
Dateline Ann Arbor, MI: Blind Man's Bluff
Just weeks after losing his sight due to a freak lightning strike an Ann Arbor man has won the right to coach the University of Michigan football team after a night of drunken poker with athletic director Dr. Bill Martin. According to Associate Athletic Director, Media Relations Bruce Madej, a little known codicil in the U of M constitution provides for the head coaching position to change hands via papal doctrine and\or hands of Texas hold 'em poker. "Apparently Dr. Martin got a little schnockered and thought his seven\deuce was a pair of aces. Damn tequila!" The new coach, identified simply as Pittsy-roo, has had nothing to say outside of press release thanking his un-trained leader dog for making a wrong turn and mentioning the implementation of an as yet unseen "amoeba" offense for the 2005 season.
Pardon my poor sentence structure! English never was my strength. I'd blame it on growing up in Detroit, but then again, Bartt grew up in the same hood a few city blocks away. I have no excuse.
I loved all three responses. Pherph made me laugh with the "crotch" reference. Give us your best shot Pherph.
If you could go back in time and re-cast Star Wars, who might you pick to fill various roles?
Bravo, Pherph! Now this is what I call a question! Hmm . . . lemme see . . .
Luke Skywalker Danny DeVito. I've never been much of a Luke fan, especially the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy Mark Hamill. If we're going to cast someone with absolutely NO fighting skills (esp. w/a sword), let's pick someone who ups the comedic value of the role. Mark Hamill's lightsabre technique? Imagine crossing Jose Canseco with Stevie Wonder. A blind guy swinging for the fences on every swing.
Darth Vader Given that we're casting DeVito as Luke, the choice for Darth is obvious - Arnold Schwarzenegger! Not only do we have a cool tie-in with the (future) Twins movie, but we can bathe in the mirth afforded by hearing Arnold (sans James Earl voiceover this time around) saying, "I'm yur fahther, Luke. Bring yur little girlyass over to the Dahk Side and let's pump this Galaxy up!"
Princess Leia This is a tough one, because I feel as if I must choose actresses from that time period. I'm torn between Rhea Perlman (Carla from Cheers & Danny's real-life squeeze) and Seka. Rhea provides even more comedic firepower to the movie, especially when being rescued by DeVito inside the Death Star - imagine the dialogue when they're trapped in the trash compactor!!! Then again, we could go the route of Seka, biggest porn star of that era and possessor of some truly fabulous natural breasts. We could put her in some incredibly undersized outfit and just have her prance around looking like a tasty treat. I'm worried about her acting skills when not laying on her back, however, so in the end, I go with Rhea.
Han Solo This is arguably the most important selection of the re-casting process. Han is huge. He's the glue. After much deliberation, I settled upon Richard Roundtree - the original Shaft!! WHAT A SELECTION!! We want an asskicking interstellar pirate who gives the good guys the firepower they've been missing?? Who better to lead the Rebels to victory (and save pansyass Luke's butt countless times) than Shaft?!? Plus we have a cool interracial love angle happening - perfect time (mid-70's) to explore that angle in greater detail! Yowza!!
Chewie Chewie is chewie, but I'd probably cast Bill Walton as the actor playing him.
C3PO 3PO always struck me as a bit stuck-up . . . so let's exploit that little character flaw and raise it to the 1000th power. 3PO is going to be played (and voiced) by Bobby Fischer - who holds the whole world in contempt. Now let him hold the whole galaxy in contempt! Should make for some interesting interaction between him, Han, Luke, and Leia . . .
R2D2 Imagine taking an Oompa Loompa from Willy Wonka and crossing it with a Borg sentinal. THAT'S how R2 will look in the remake . . . not an upside-down trashcan on wheels. I don't care which midget plays him, as long as he has a real attitude problem.
Ben Kenobi I suppose I could have stopped by now, but I'll include one last character swap. The wise old Kenobi is now played by Redd Foxx from Sanford & Son. I can just picture him greeting Vader before their fateful battle, 'I could put your face in some dough and make me some gorilla cookies!', followed by his his death scene quote, 'Oh, Elizabeth, I'm comin' to join you, honey!'
Well, I'll give it a try...my choices for recasting Star Wars.
Luke Skywalker, oh hell, how about Luther Cambell, AKA Luke Skywalker from 2 Live Crew. He could fight the battle of good and evil much in the same way Luther Cambell fought for "As Nasty as They Want To Be" and "As Clean as They Want To Be." http://www.nndb.com/people/241/000088974/
Darth Vader - Patrick Roy, mainly because he plays well behind a mask. And, quite frankly, every time I see him, I wish he'd put back on his mask.
Princess Leia - We need someone with a high slut factor. My first thought was Britney Spears because her name popped up everywhere when I googled "slut". Then I thought, well we can't do Britney, but maybe Jennifer Love Hewitt would do well. I mean, she's hot, and has that Princess Leia attitude, and she has long hair to make into all sorts of weird hair do's.
Han Solo - Now, don't go messing with Harrison Ford or anything. But, after thinking this one through, I thought, why not me? I'd kind of like to bang Jennifer Love Hewitt, and hang out with Chewie - more on that later.
Chewie. Boy did Rage miss this one. Bill Walton? I'd have to shoot Chewie in the first scene, or better yet, bludgeon him to death with broken life saber. The obvious answer is Wilt Chamberlin. Wilt "the stilt" Chamberlin would constantly be hooking up with all the alien chicks. And, well, you know, that'd be cool for me and the Millennium Falcon.
C3PO - I'm thinking to keep the C3P0 frame, but replace his personality with Hal, from 2001 a Space Odyssey.
R2D2 - R2D2 was a valuble Robot having saved many humans from their ultimate distruction. But, he needs an update. I'm thinking that Diesector, from the TV show Battlebots is the perfect fit. http://www.battlebots.com/meet_the_robots3/meet_robot_specs.asp?id=2
Plus, Diesector could smack C3P0 with a hammer every time he makes a snooty comment or says, "I'm sorry Dave." Diesector would be like "Shut the f*** up C3P0, my names not Dave" as he smacks him with a hammer. This may affect the PG ratings of Star Wars.
Ben Kenobi - Pat Morita is my choice. Picture him as Mr. Kesuke Miyagi in the Karate Kid, only this time, he's tutoring Luke instead of Danielson. "Luke-e-son, use the force. Now go wash the Millennium Falcon. Wax-on, Wax-off."
I'm going to recast using only people from the world of sports...because I can!
Luke Skywalker - My first inclination was to go with Kenny "Sky" Walker, but aside from the name linkage he offers little to the role. So where could I find a prodigy, with the ability to be whiney but still somewhat likeable and a father that has been on both sides of the good and evil debate? How about the golf world? I choose Tiger Woods.
Darth Vader - Based on my first casting decision you would think Earl Woods would be a shoe in, but that's too easy so I'll entertain other options. George Steinbrenner epitomizes the darkside, but I can't imagine him having a shred of good inside so he's out. When it comes down to it only one man in sports can wield the Vader like presence strong enough to really capture the role. That man: NBA commissioner David Stern.
Princess Leia - Heather Mitts. Just because I like saying the words "Heather Mitts" together.
Chewie - Shaq-Fu has an acting resume (Blue Chips, Kazaam, Steel) second only to Paulie Shore and would be an obvious choice, but I'm going with the one, the only, Dikembe Mutombo Mpolondo Mukamba Jean Jacque Wamutombo. His voice already fits right into the chewie role, and he's got the finger waggle ready to go after the rebels whack it to the empire. It's a no brainer.
C3PO & R2D2 - They're always sniping at one another while providing some comic relief, so Charles Barkley & Kenny Smith are a perfect fit. Plus, much like 3PO is programmed to know tons of stuff while R2 does all the dangerous work, Barkley thinks he knows everything while Kenny actually does the real analyst work. And the thought of Mutombo reconstructing a disabled Barkley during Empire is priceless.
Ben Kenobi - Bob Knight. "Jesus BLEEPIN'Christ Skywalker! Are you BLEEPIN' retarded or just BLEEPIN' stupid? Use the BLEEPIN' force before I choke your BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEPIN' BLEEP!"
And for future reference, I would cast Lebron James as Lando Calrissian and Don Zimmer as Yoda.
CRAP! Forgot Han Solo, which means I disqualify myself for being an idiot. But for the record I would pick Tom Brady. The man can adapt to any role and I'm confident he could pull of the cocky, rebel, devil may care attitude that makes Solo Solo. Plus he could easily adapt to his next role as a college professor\adventurer.
Boys-
You made some fine choices. Thank you Marty and Bartt for not just handing it to Rage.
Of course, I should split my answer up.
Tom Brady would make a sly Han Solo
and Jennifer Love Hewitt would be a very fine sight to see in the bronze bikini (no disrespect to Seka intended.)
I am tempted to Green Light all three projects and then start mixing the casts, but this game only allows for one winner (but in my mind, we are all winners as long as the game continues), I need to choose
Rage
In my defense, I only picked Bill Walton because I've always thought he sorta looked, walked, and sounded like a shaved Chewie. Jennifer Love Hewitt as Leia upsets me for the simple reason that I didn't think of it first. Call me crazy, but her breasts are even better than Seka's - especially now. Plus Marty's casting of himself as Solo so he could bang JLH is genius. This was a strong outing - I have to give the award swap, however, to Bartt and his recasting of Kenobi. Good Lord was that ever funny.
Seeing as how good this round was, I'm tempted to stay with the same type of question ... despite my desire not to copy an idea. But it's Pherph's idea, so there's no shame in copying it because it's quite excellent. My only problem now is . . . which movie do I pick . . . ?
Hmm . . .
I got it. Pulp Fiction! Help me visualize the scenes too - therein lies the best stuff!
And don't forget about Zed . . .
I started with Nathan Lane filling in for Samuel L. Jackson, but then I realized that if we just substituted the cast of 'The Birdcage' we would get an interesting take.
Gene Hackman
Robin Williams
Nathan Lane
Hank Azaria
put them in any role you want!
You MUST be kidding me. THAT'S your entry?! Use the answers to your Star Wars question as a template . . . see if you can improve on this rather sad showing.
Vincent Vega - Adrian Zmed. Much like Travolta, he did some great stuff out of the gate (Bachelor Party, TJ Hooker) but hasn't been in anything particularly good since. Plus his stint as the host of Dance Fever means he should be able to rock out the dance scenes.
Jules Winnfeld - I feel the need to resurrect the career of another Welcome Back Kotter alum, and since no one was smoother back in the day than Freddie "Boom Boom" Washington, he gets the nod. And I can already picture him saying, "Hi There...Mother******!"
Marcellus Wallace - An imposing black man with first hand knowledge of deviant sexual behavior? Ladies and gentlemen, I present Mr. Mike Tyson.
Mia Wallace - I've got nothing on this one, so we do a blind type at the keyboard and whatever letter comes up I'll name the first actress that comes to mind...k K....Kate Hudson. So there ya go.
Butch Coolidge - Nicholas Cage. I'm not a huge Nick Cage fan, but this seems like a tailor made role for him. Brooding, not a ton of idle chatter, blood, violence.
Pumpkin and Honey Bunny - Two sociopaths in love. This has got to be the former betrothed Billy Bob Thorton & Angelina Jolie. Maybe Tarantino could add a scene where they drink one another's blood.
Zed and the Gimp - Tim Gerber and Dan Berglund. At least that's what I heard now that they're living together in Kansas City.
Now, Rage, your criticism of me is entirely appropriate.
However,
1) Once Bartt gets going...you just ain't gonna top him
AND
2) My post is pretty funny...
Put Robin Williams in as Vincent and Nathan Lane as Jules. Then flip 'em. That's funny too. Gene Hackman as Marcellus OR Hank Azaria as Marcellus.
Hell, I made a hilarious parody and I didn't have to re-write the script.
It's at least as funny as 'SpaceBalls'. In fact to make things a little funnier, maybe we will change actors/roles with each scene. Make sure that costuming and make-up stay consistent with each character, just change the actor.
It's still funny!
OK, Dianne Wiest playing for Uma is a big step down BUT Dianne Wiest trying to imitate Uma is a funny idea.
AND I think that we can properly infer from the lack of other posts that everyone understood the power of my post and was intimidated (except Bartt) to try and counter it.
How could you have left out the Adrian Zmed in Grease 2 connection?
I consider that his equivalent of Staying Alive. I assume neither he nor Travolta wish to talk about either movie ever again.
*sigh* I give up. Go ahead Bart.
I don't think we did the last gasp justice, so I will continue along those lines with a slight twist: If you could cast the story of YOUR life what fine individuals would you select to play you and your significant others?
Ok...with a slight twist to the original question, I am casting the story of my life using only ANIMATED characters. So here goes.
DJ Mroz: Bugs Bunny, just because he's the coolest, smartest, mortherf*cker I know, with a pretty good sense of humor. Of course I would pick him to play the lead role.
Rachel Mroz (wife): Stripperella, just because I can. Actually, Jessica Rabbit may be a better choice for this, considering the lead role. I could take either one.
Devin Mroz (2 year old son): Optimus Prime. Again, this is a pure power play. How cool would it be to have a son who is a giant robot who can also turn into a semi-truck. Autobots....roll out!
Taylor Mroz (4 month old daughter): Pikachu. This is a perfect fit since Taylor's cute, round, and doesn't do much except sit there and make funny noises.
My dad: Baloo the Bear from the Jungle Book. Pretty laid back guy who taught me the "bear" necessities of life. My dad also likes chilling out and floating down rivers on his back.
Mom: Wonder Woman. Pretty amazing mother, really. And I assume she had an invisible jet she flew around in because she always knew when I did something wrong.
Boss: Teacher from Peanuts. He talks a lot, but nothing he says ever seems to make any sense
Our current babysitter: Cindy Lou Who from the Grinch. Hot! But Jail-bait as well. Tread carefully.
Vivs: Brain, from Pinky and the Brain. He's always building ridiculous inventions under the guise of using old kegs or 40 oz. bottles, but he's really trying to take over the world Can anyone say "Yooper Soakers"?
Jason Keith: Linus. Just because. And Linus' blanket will be cast as Jason Keith's Bears jersey for obvious reason.
Chud: One of the care bears. I don't know which one, either the one with the rainbow or the one with the pot leaf, I don't remember their names. Oh yeah, and he likes to give hugs too.
Thats the cast for now...if I think of more, I will post them.
Well DJ, you appear to be the only one with a pulse on this one so it's all you my man.
Well, this thread seems to be dying, but we'll give it a whirl anyway....
In the news is the Georgia "Runaway Bride" who was sentenced to pay fines of $2500, serve 120 hours community service and 2 years probation, as well as continued mental treatment for her little stunt she pulled because she had cold feet. I assume you guys could come up with a better/more creative punishment for this woman. Lets hear it.
Alternate question: since we're on the topic of the judicial system, the Michael Jackson trial is supposed to wrap up at the end of this week. For the sake of argument lets just "assume" he is guilty (I know this is a stretch because Michael is such a nice normal guy). What would an appropriate punishment be?
To the alternate...don't you think a bit of hard time in maximum security, where he will be a defenseless beeeatch and a prime target will be enough?
Runaway Bride: MTV should recruit a Brad Pitt-esque looking dude to romance her away from the guy she was supposed to marry. He'll propose and plan an awe inspiring wedding, complete with live television coverage from Inside Edition. On the day of the wedding, as the bridal march begins, she'll enter the church only to find it empty with her ex standing next to Ashton Kutcher with a giant "You've been Punk'd" banner. As an added bonus, the crew from extreme Home makeover will implode the church at that exact moment, ridding the world of the bug-eyed bride and Kyle Korver.
Scenario #2: A crew of elite plastic surgeons are assembled to reconstruct Michael's face from the Off The Wall album. The words "I am a pedophile" are tattooed from cheekbone to cheekbone across his restored nose, and he electronic tether only allows him to leave his one room, efficiency apartment to attend his job as an observer at a facility that uses chimpanzees as scientific test animals.
Random Questions
September 16, 2004 - July 6, 2005
R.I.P.
Ok ... Oz, Bartt, Marty, Pherph, VI, Chan etc ... help me out here.
What the hell is this jackass thinking in this pic?
Damn. The board blocks photobucket.
Oh well.
THIS SHALL NOT DIE!
How do we determine when it is appropriate to change the length of blue jeans? By this I mean is there a cosmic force that dictates when we decide to switch from pegging to rolling to 6 inches past the shoe to folded up back past the calf? Please feel free to consult wives/girlfriends on this as well.
Also, as what age is a women legally obligated to wear those pants that stop just past calf level. 37? 42? A sliding scale dependent on attractiveness?
First off, women shouldn't be allowed to wear Nantuckets (a.k.a. Capri pants) if they suffer from a terminal case of cankles. I think the determination of when a woman (who passes the no-cankle test) definitely has to go on a sliding scale. I've seen 40-yr-old women who are absolutely SMOKIN'!!! (I'm hearing Jim Carrey's voice) It's all based on the overall package: no wrinkles on the face, nice big tits, firm round ass you could bounce a Sacagawea dollar off of. Tan legs, defined calves. Thin (but not anorexic) thighs. Generally, I'd say mid-to-upper 30's for most qualified women, but someone who takes care of herself could easily push that to the low 40's (think Terri Hatcher).
It's all science.
So, if HRC was to win the nomination, elected president, and choose her husband as her running mate, could HE become president again if she died in office?
It would probably have to be determined by the Supreme Court, but I doubt it. The next person in the line of succession (Speaker of the House I think) would most likely skip over Bubba.
There is nothing in the constitution that says Bill Clinton cannot become president in this manner.
Do you read it differently?
There is a little known codicil in the (Not Faber) Constitution that addresses this exact possibility. In the event a female is elected president, chooses her two term ex-president husband as her running mate and then dies in office the order of succession goes directly to, and I quote, "The Leader of Parliament...Funkadelic, that is!" That's right, your new president would be George Clinton.
While George would be the only Clinton to get my vote, none of us can read the Constitution and tell anyone what it says. That's the whole point of judicial review. The right to bear arms could actually mean the right to go sleeveless! That Judge Roberts has a hell of a sense of humor.
A pair of panties, but just one bra. Why?
A pair of panties, but just one bra. Why?
A pair of panties, but just one bra. Why?