Lee Murray - Mime of the Month!

By Linus, the Angry Mime - linustheangrymime@hotmail.com

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Hey.

You ever wake up to the sound of a tomahawk ripping apart your front door?

I did.

Last week, despondent over the fact that Stephany (his not-so-secret cuckoo cushion) was thousands and thousands of miles away driving the Olympics athletics as well as the Chinese, completely bat shit crazy, Tonto Balboa paid me a visit.

He smelled like stale chili dogs and vapo-rub. The fact that he drank about twenty bottles of vanilla extract didn’t weaken his aim with a tomahawk; it just made him more sentimental.

So, there I am, naked with a sharpened pool cue in my hands, murder in my eyes. Tonto’s shelled out a lot of moola for Stephany to waste her time with some international circle jerk, and the bastard’s gone and ripped my front door to pieces.

I’m a second away from shoving the business end of the pool cue through Tonto’s left eye socket and pushing the stick as far as it can go when the bastard starts crying on me.

Big, child-like tears, like the kind the piss-drippers at the orphanage used to have after they weren’t picked up by a foster family.

Boo hoo fuck fuckity fuck fuck hoo…

Tonto reaches in for a tight, uncomfortable hug, his floppy man-breasts caked with bread crumbs and sweat. It was as horrific as it sounds.

I let him cry for an hour, and talk until he ran outta words. Just because you’re with a mime that doesn’t speak, however, does it mean that he’s listening to you.

While Tonto was carrying on about how much Stephany meant to him (hint – he’s thinking of getting a tattoo on his neck of her)[NOTE FROM "THE CHIEF" - You were told that in confidence, you son of a bitch! - Tonto], I was reminiscing about my life and trying to come up with the perfect role model who could kick Tonto’s ass and make him stop acting a like a six-year old with a skinned knee.

Then, it hits me. Lee Murray. Lee “Lightning” Murray.

Who, you may ask?

One of the most extreme mixed martial arts fighters of all time. Not to mention one hell of a guy to have on your side in a fight when chaos is all around you.

In fact, to help Tonto reclaim his dignity, I’m gonna nominate my friend Lee for August’s Honorary Mime of the Month.

Here’s the criteria again, kiddies:

- Personality

- Criminal Intent

- Artistic Passion

- Cruelty

- Fighting Style


Personality: Before the witness relocation program, I ran in some similar circles as Lee, so to speak. I was particularly fond of the way he told knock-knock jokes.

He’d lean up really close to a person, and he'd start the joke the way people always do, saying “Knock, Knock.” Before the other person could react, however, he’d donkey punch them in the back of their head and scream “Avon Calling!”

It was pretty hilarious. The man has plenty of comic timing.

Criminal Intent: Well, Lee’s currently in prison for allegedly being part of one of Britain’s greatest bank heists.

And, allegedly, a certain person (ME!) also involved in said heist may or may not(I DID!) have disclosed Lee’s location in exchange for a larger piece of the take. It’s okay; Lee may not be sharpest tool in the box, but he can punch his way out of whatever prison throws at him.

Artistic Passion: Little known fact - Lee is a huge Asian horror film fan. He’s seen enough of them and read enough film critique to astound you in a discussion on the subject.

That famed street fight he had with Tito Ortiz started because Ortiz had the audacity to say that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was a better movie than Audition.

I tend to side with Lee on this one; you’ve got a much greater chance of being brutalized by a lover than by some crazed cannibal in the woods. That makes it scarier.

Cruelty: On September 25th, 2005, Lee was stabbed in a fight outside a nightclub. He ended up with a severed artery and a punctured lung.

I’ve killed people with lesser wounds than that. Lee was brought back to life four times on the operating table, and the cruel son of a bitch kept coming back.

Think about it - if Lee walks away from a fight with some pretty messed up wounds, you know that the six or seven people also in that fight never got up again.

Fighting Style: Lee always used to say his style was “New England Submission Fighting,” which according to the graphic on their website, makes a bit of sense.

Lee did look like a red, angry octopus who wouldn’t give up a match until he released his spermatophores into his opponent’s mantle cavities.

Quite erotic stuff!

Anything on your mind? Send me a comment!

- Linus is a world renowned mime artist whose productions “She Walks with Ghosts”, and “Sleep” have won him several international awards, such as the Deburau Prize He also served fifteen years in Oregon State Penitentiary for grand larceny. He trained in Paris at the International School of Corporeal Mime and will beat up anyone who has a problem with it.

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The Insanely Stupid Decision to Remove Softball From the Olympics... Idiots!

by Stephany Ericson - stephany.ericson@hotmail.com

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2 - The percentage chance that Japan would win Softball Gold

0 - The combined intellect of the International Olympic Committee

1 - The minimum Number Olympiad Softball will be absent as a sport

6 - The number of ridiculous, insanely stupid, vapid, expensive other sports that will STILL be played in lieu of softball at subsequent Olympics.

Add it all together dear readers and you get the year 2016 - which is the earliest that Softball can be reinstated as an Olympic Sport.

You may be saying, “Stephany, so what… softball is lame. It’s all small ball, they wear shorts, and it’s played by girls.”

To which I say two things:

1.) Why are you speaking out loud to a columnist from your computer?

2.) You are an idiot with no discernible intelligence. have you considered running for President, or joining the International Olympic Committee perhaps?

On this planet right now there are 3.5 BAJILLION girls whose Olympic dreams are being crushed. They’ve seen their country’s team fall to the U.S., and still they want to be Olympic Softball players. And now, they will not get that chance.

The most used reason by the IOC to remove Olympic Softball from the docket of sports was that the U.S. was too dominant. Mike Candrea, the Head Coach of Softball USA quickly showed his disagreement with this contention by losing the Gold medal game to Japan.

Good Job, Mike!

As for you readers and your argument that it’s all small ball…puleeeze



Played by girls? Hmmph, can you throw like this?



Can you fill a uniform like this?

Well… not to belabor a point... but regardless of the U.S. former dominance in this sport, it should continue as an Olympic sport! Basketball was once dominated by the U.S., but it was kept as an Olympic sport… just so that everyone could keep improving their game, thereby raising the level of competition around the world.

Then in 1972 the CCCP, or Soviet Union, beat the US in the Gold Medal match in a game marred by what Albert Einstein would have called “spooky refereeing at a distance.” Now many teams have their own travelling referees and the game is more competitive overall.

When the US dominates… everyone benefits. Who makes the best automobiles on the planet? The Japanese and the Germans. We crushed them both in basketball and water polo… and armed conflict.

Don’t remember that? Here is a refresher course.



Now, as promised I’ll list the six sports that WILL be in the Olympics instead of Softball.

1. BMX - uh huh….Bicycle moto-cross…cuz every kid has a $3000 dollar bike, a trailer full of tools, extra parts, AND a professionally designed and manicured course to ride on after school.

2. Men's Field Hockey - Ummm… I played this in High School. In a skirt.

3. Karate - Sooooo distinct from Taekwondo.

4. Squash - Can’t wait to see how they fit cameras in the court… oh yeah… it won’t matter cuz NBC won’t televise it anyway. Or if they do it will be 20 hours later.

5. Sailing - The only sport with snobby players… and dress code.

6. Table Tennis - A sport EVEN more dominated by the Chinese than Softball or basketball is by the US. Next Olympics in London… perhaps the home country sport of Fish and Chips will be included so that the Brits can win a Gold Medal.

Not if Michael Phelps has anything to do with it…

For now, I want you all to go play some softball and when you do speak in a LOUD British Accent.

- Stephany Ericson is an award winning author of children’s books such as “You Beat That on Expert?” “Momma Don’t Dance and Daddy is a Mime,” and “Artist Schmartist - GO GET A JOB!”) Raised in Pacoima, Ohio by loving grandparents, educated in the Arab Emirates, and employed for 17 years by Art’s Pastry Shack, she brings to her readers sugar coated, heart warming stories of redemption all wrapped in a non-traditional Burqua.

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Film Review - I.O.U.S.A.

By Vans McCoy - vansmccoy@hotmail.com

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I know economics.

I run a video store.

You want something from me, you have to pay. No matter if it’s Treasure of the Sierra Madre (5 stars) or Gladiator (1 star), you’re paying me $1.99 per movie. Now if you pay for two and it’s M-Th, I’ll throw in a third for free. I’m good like that.

If you want an adult film, it’s $3.99. Look, you want to squeeze one off in your futon and I want four bucks, so it seems to me that we have a deal.

Now if you don’t bring those back on time, the price goes up.

The later you are, the more you pay me. If you think you can just not return the films and get them for free, not only will I charge the fuck out of your credit card, but if I see you out somewhere, there’s a very good chance that I’ll end up in jail again for a few days.

Now you have broken eye socket, I’m locked up for the weekend, the store is closed so I’m losing out on cash. Got it? That’s capitalism!

More or less, that’s the idea of the documentary/85 minute commercial I.O.U.S.A. If you don't pay for your shit, you’re fucked and you’re fucking everyone else.



You think owing my store $35 for not returning Crash (1 star) is a pain in the ass, imagine being in the hole almost $9 trillion. That’s precisely the problem Americans find themselves in. Though, the number isn't as bad as it may seem, that's only about $30,000 per person... even your ratty little kids.

In a nutshell, we spend more than we make, so we’re broke. And no one really seems to care because we can borrow money from places like China, so it’s all good, right? According to the film, which is backed with things like facts and common sense, we’re only going to continue to get fucked harder than even the most durable of stars in my $3.99 films.

The movie lays it down thick with experts, including the favorite of the young Republicans/Democrats/Independents/Thinkers/Non-Thinkers, Ron Paul, all basically saying the same thing: If something isn’t done soon, it’s all over for the US.

Here’s where the movie becomes a commercial – it does a great job of explaining the problem in simple terms for simple people and pointing out how the government plunged us like a broken toilet at a truck stop in Paduka, Kentucky, but it skirts around placing a good part of the blame where it belongs: right around the neck of you, me (not really me, but I’m making a point), and everyone else in the country.

Sure, they tell us to vote, but how about screaming in our ears, “Stop being so fucking stupid, you fat piece of shit!!!” Being obnoxiously stupid stops being a redeeming personality trait by 10th grade, yet we have a nation of people who proudly wear that badge their whole life. As long as taxes are cut, people don’t seem to care about anything else. It’s that kind of brazen ignorance that will have us speaking Mandarin in thirty years.

I hate taxes as much as your average star of such films as Blade (2 stars), Major League (2.5 stars), and White Men Can’t Jump (3 stars), but I’m also a big fan of things like roads, education, and overall infrastructure, so you know, freedom isn’t free or something.

And yes, the fat and unhealthy people are part of the problem too. The single biggest expense our government has, will always have, and will continue to grow to the point to where we can’t sustain it, is health care and entitlement programs like medicare.

This part is pretty simple… do your best to stay healthy, not live on junk food for your whole life and you won’t need to go see the doctor as much as your 300lb. grandma does. Thus, you're helping the country.

So why don’t the filmmakers call out the American people on their part of the blame and leave you with a generic “get involved” message?

Because they have something to sell you!!!

The main players in the film are on tour with their “Fiscal Wake-Up Tour” and their betting that if you see the movie, you’ll come out to see them on tour and maybe you’ll stop at the merch table too!

Ending the very serious subject matter of the film with a final sales pitch cheapens the whole message of the film. Was this an infomercial? Are these guys just trying to sell tickets? I’m sure they’re genuine with their message, but the presentation left me asking myself if I just got tricked…

Whew… look at me giving a crap. Now I gotta go listen to Frankechrist for the rest of the day.

2.5 stars for I.O.U.S.A. (Typing those periods is a pain in the ass.)

- Vans McCoy was knocked out at a Dead Kennedys show in the early 80’s and has been a cultural expert ever since. He has spent time in several small bands over the years. He sang for The Magnificent Cox, played bass in Manson’s Ranchers, and was lead guitarist for Televised Execution. He’s spent 347 days in local jails throughout the country and is now gainfully employed managing a local video store.

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Ask a Pirate - Adapting to Technology, Ship Names, and Lasting Longer in the Bedroom!

By Melvin, the Pirate - melvin.thepirate@hotmail.com

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Ahoy there, mateys!

With less than a month to go until Talk Like a Pirate Day, I thought I’d give ye a few points on making yer surly speech fierce and true.

When it comes to the exclamation “AARGH,” it can be used, but not as much as ye might have been led to believe.

See, most of the squabblers I know who utter this word suffer from tooth decay, one of the wicked side effects a hellish life at sea can bring ye.

What I’m saying is that the exclamation isn’t used so much to frighten cowards as it is to prevent a pirate from crying in pain every time a stray breeze comes across the cavities in his gullet.

And, it’s getting a great deal of pirates a mite angry to hear land-lovers use the word “avast” incorrectly. Sure, it be a fine nautical word, but it only means to hold fast or stop a physical action.

“Avast, me proud beauty! Wanna know why my Roger is so Jolly?” is not pirate talk, and in the wrong circles, would merit ye a broken bottle stabbed clear through yer neck.

Now, on to the mail bag!!

Melvin,

What kind of self-respecting pirate spends time on the internet?

Anonymous

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it clear a thousand times, ye cowards!! Use yer name, if ye got the stomach to send a message.

When it comes to the pirate mind, me kinfolk, be they land-walkers or sea dogs, are consumed with the object of getting rich by taking whatever they can, when they can.

And, because I’ve hung up me plundering days in exchange for the life a therapist, I use the Internet to keep watch on me clients and friends, as well as witness the criminal acts they perform through the web.

It’s very thrilling, I tell ye!

Dear Melvin the Pirate,

What’s the scariest name for a pirate ship you’ve ever encountered?

Blood Sampson, first mate for the pirate ship Cruelty

Blood Sampson, I’ve heard of ye!

Yer captain, Artemis Stain, is a friend of mine. Good man, very noble and kind.

The most fearful ship name I’ve ever encountered was The Morning Star. I was a young pirate then, barely had my taste of fight and love, and we had spotted the vessel coming towards us with no motion to alter course.

We fired every scrap of cannon ball and musket we had at the beast. Nothing kept her from her course.

Finally, we had no choice but to turn back from whence we came to avoid death. And, as we turned our tails and ran, the last image we saw was of the captain and his crew all lashed to their posts, their eyes ravenous and evil.

In short, what ye name a pirate ship means far less than how ye make the name yer own.

Dear Melvin,

I enjoy the wenches, and they love me plenty. But I have a problem making me pleasure last longer. Any remedies for an over-active spirit?

Miles from California

Miles, yer worrying far too much about being the best in the bedroom, and it’s causing ye to finish quicker than what be pleasing.

As ye mount yer fine and shiny lover, focus on the following things:

Are you vulnerable to attack from a rival pirate while loving? If so, how can you fight back at a moment’s notice?

Suppose Blackbeard visits ye from beyond the grave and offers ye a choice: either ye can live forever and be poor, or live for a day and have all the wealth ye can imagine.

Which one would ye take, and why?

What exactly would be a cockswain, and is there a better name for it?

These tasks will help ye to make the time ye love stretch for as long as fifteen minutes, Miles.

Any other questions? Leave me a comment!

- Melvin the Pirate has written a number of self-help books, such as “Making Yer First Mate Yer Best Mate,” and “A Time to Rape, and a Time to Respect Wenches.” He lives in Huntington Beach, CA with his partner and prize mastiff, Belvedere.

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Exclusive Coverage of 2008 Olympics - Michael Phelps Interview!

by Stephany Ericson stephany.ericson@hotmail.com

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While you, my dear readers have been slogging through your soft work week of sipping latte’s and playing Klondike on company time, I have been hard at work securing informative interviews from the Olympic Village.

I have lots to report so I’ll dispense with my usual attempt at educating you all and get right to it.

The Nigerian Men’s soccer team won their semi-final game. They play for the gold in a few days.

I had a chance to meet them all in the village. They are a very outgoing group!

Stephany: Hello Gentleman. Congratulations on your Futbol victory. Good luck in the Final match. Do you have any words for my audience in the United States?”

Team Capt: I am Sadu Madiga, the first son of Gadik Madiga, the most popular black farmer in Nigeria who was murdered in the land dispute in my country.

Mid Fielder: I am barrister Olumide Williams. I represent Mohammed Abacha, son of the late Gen. Sani Abacha, who was the former military head of state in Nigeria.

Goalie: MY NAME IS MR.EMMAM SULE, THE MANAGER CREDIT AND FOREIGN BILLS OF ECOBANK OF NIGERIA PLC.

Stephany: “o…k… Ummm, those are interesting introductions, containing lots of information.”

Sadu Madiga: Speaking of information, Miss Stephany… YOU ARE REQUESTED TO SEND YOUR PHONE NUMBER, BANK ACCOUNT, SWIFT NUMBER, NAME OF YOUR BANK, ADDRESS AND PHONE OF YOUR BANK FOR EASIER COMMUNICATION WITH OUR CLEARING CORRESPONDENCE BANK TO YOUR BANK.

Stephany: What does any of that have to do with winning the soccer gold?

Barrister Olumide: After we get your info AND the gold we will repay your humanitarian assistance with 35% of the Gold.

Stephany: (pointing out window) Oh My GAWD… LOOK OUT THE WINDOW! IT’S PELE and DAVID BECKHAM!” (then I ran away!)

A few hours later, I met a US women’s Water Polo player. They had just finished a match with the Netherlands. I had a chance to speak with Betsey Armstrong, one of the US Silver Medal winning water polo players about the supposed violence in water polo.

Women’s water polo players are very stout. People tell me that Water polo is a violent game. Watching the action via underwater camera reminded me of my recent trip to Homosassa State Park in Florida.

Why does Women’s water polo remind me of my trip to Homosassa State Park in Florida?

Well, while I was there I saw a herd of manatees grappling with each other. Either for fun or for 1st dibs on the choicest selection of nearby seaweed, I couldn’t tell.

But violent? Nah…

Impressive physical specimens... um… the water polo players too.

Stephany: Wow, Betsey… that’s a rough game you play. Kind of like Hopscotch. (laughs)

Betsey: You win, you win. You lose, you still win.

Stephany: What? Do you think it IS a violent game? Brutal, tough… like boxing, you know?

Betsey: Yeah. Do me a favor.

Stephany: Sure. What is it?

Betsey: Hit me in the face.

Stephany: (after a long pause) You want me to do what?

Betsey: You heard me, I said hit me.

Stephany: C’mon Jake… I mean Betsey… you had a few drinks.

Betsey: Go ahead. I ain’t drunk. Take your best shot. On the jaw.

Stephany: Jack… Jake… er BETSEY...I aint got no gloves. (I roll my eyes at my atrocious English.)

Betsey: Here’s your glove. (Takes off her water polo cap… hands it to me. I begin to wrap it around my right fist.) Go ahead. Hit me. C’mon don’t worry about it. I want you to hit me with all you got.

Stephany: Uh… well… I will but I sort of hit like a mime… it will look dramatic, but there will be little substance to the punch so it’s probably not really going to prove your point too well.

Betsey: Never mind, why don’t you go talk to “The Swimmer.”

Stephany: Ned Merrill? Oh My GOSH!!! You mean… Is Michael Phelps here now?!!!?

Without waiting for her reply, I instinctively turned my head and saw the lanky aquaman striding briskly by. My legs began running toward him before I even summoned them to. Here is the hottest chunk of man on the planet. The most famous face of these Olympic Games, and soon to be the richest 20-something in Baltimore.

Stephany: Michael! Oh… Mr. Phelps!

Phelps: Oh shit… how did you get in here, Stephany? Let me see your badge... What the hell is Tonto Balboa? Anyway... I don’t have time to talk. I’ve got a workout now.

Stephany: Workout? But you’re done. You’ve won all the medals that you can win.

Phelps: Not quite. And stop sending me your icky pictures. Now, if you’ll excuse me.

Stephany: Oh my gawd… you got them? Did you like them... you know I’m wearing that same g-string under my “reporter's suit.” I could show you now… if you want.

Phelps: NO! Like I said I’m off to a work out. Please leave me alone.

Stephany: Ok… most men don’t cast off a potential “beneficial friend” so easily, but… can I ask… what exactly are you working out for… you say there are more medals to win? The world thinks you are done, Michael.

Phelps: Well…I thought so too… but then I heard that there are other events aside from swimming. I need to win Gold in those events as well.

Stephany: Michael… Mike… Sweetie, you are a swimmer. You can’t just DO another event.

Phelps: Watch me. I welcome all comments. I use it to fuel my…

Stephany: Yes… Mike… We know. We’ve heard it 1000 times. You use it as fuel. The entire planet has got it, ok? What on earth do you think you can still win a gold medal in? Video games? (I laughed.)

Phelps: Even a stupid lady reporter like you should know about the Marathon on Sunday.

Stephany: You can’t be serious!

Phelps: You can’t put a limit on anything. The more you dream the farther you get.

Stephany: Oh Stop it! Geeze. Ok, you CAN NOT run 26 miles faster than the people who run 26 miles for their specialty, Mike. It’s impossible. You are a fantastically gifted athlete, but puhleeeze.

Phelps: I wouldn’t say anything is impossible. I think that everything IS possible as long as you…

Stephany: WILL YOU SHUT UP WITH THAT SHIT!! ARE YOU GOING TO GO WIN THE GOLD IN THE JAVELIN TOO I SUPPOSE?!!

Phelps: I have the opportunity to…

Stephany: NO, YOU DON’T YOU AVARICIOUS MORON! YES… YES… WHY NOT!????GO AHEAD, WIN THE MARATHON IN RECORD TIME, WIN THE JAVELIN WITH A WORLD RECORD AND…OH I KNOW… WHY DON’T YOU GO WIN THE GOLD MEDAL IN BASKETBALL TOO! AND THEN WHY DON’T YOU DO THE CLOSING CEREMONY ALL BY YOURSELF!!??

Phelps: I always thought it would be neat to make the Olympic team.

Stephany: Please… Look at me naked. Please...

Live and alone reporting in the Olympic Village - Stephany Ericson.

- Stephany Ericson is an award winning author of children’s books such as “You Beat That on Expert?” “Momma Don’t Dance and Daddy is a Mime,” and “Artist Schmartist - GO GET A JOB!”) Raised in Pacoima, Ohio by loving grandparents, educated in the Arab Emirates, and employed for 17 years by Art’s Pastry Shack, she brings to her readers sugar coated, heart warming stories of redemption all wrapped in a non-traditional Burqua.

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CRIME IS A LAUGHING MATTER: EXTORTION 101

By Linus, the Angry Mime - linustheangrymime@hotmail.com

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Hey.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

No shit.

If you’ve got the ability to ruin a person’s future, the world is yours, right?

Right.

It’s not that hard to pressure people for something you want, once the power is in your hands.

Take Arthur Herbert Miller, University of Iowa college professor. He’s being charged with allegedly coercing at least four women to bare their breasts in exchange for better grades.

You know, the timeless plot device found in just about every single porn flick.

Sure, it worked for a while, but he got caught.

Amateurs always get caught.

Next time you’re mad with power, and want to make a few people suffer, give these tips a try, and you’ll be sure to stave off a trip to prison:

1) Work with someone who is disposable - Let’s hypothesize, and say that someone stole Stephany’s house in the middle of the night while she was away. Just hooked up a tractor trailer and pulled that sucker right off the foundation.
Who’s gonna make the call to extort the crazy dame?

Not you.

Cops analyze that shit. You’ll be farming that out to some dumb vagrant.

Who’s gonna meet Stephany in the back alley of a Denny’s to collect the bribe money required to return her house?

Again, the vagrant.

Who’s sitting in the bushes with a sack filled with barbed wire and a deadly aim with a blow gun?

You. One dart lands in your accomplice’s neck after the transaction, or if the shit hits the fan.

One hits Stephany if she spots you.

2) Frame them - People are less likely to tell on you if you’re copping cheap feels on some comely co-ed’s hushpuppies if they’re sitting in hot water, themselves.

Again, let’s use Stephany as a guide.

Say you had some pretty steamy photos of a children’s author getting to know her young readers on – let’s say a more intimate basis.

With those Polaroids in hand, you can demand that she smuggle frozen ovaries for you for as long as you wish. One peep out of her little saucy mouth, and she’ll have the authorities so far up her ass, she’ll be shitting policemen for weeks.

3) Fake your death - Dead people can extort all they want. Again, with the help of your friendly neighborhood vagrant, dress them up, remove their head, arms and legs, and set them on fire.

As long as your wallet and clothes are on the stiff, you’ll have enough to make it look like you’re a maggot snack, which will give you all the time you need to extort the innocent!

Now, go out there and get some bribes!

- Linus is a world renowned mime artist whose productions “She Walks with Ghosts”, and “Sleep” have won him several international awards, such as the Deburau Prize He also served fifteen years in Oregon State Penitentiary for grand larceny. He trained in Paris at the International School of Corporeal Mime and will beat up anyone who has a problem with it.

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Exclusive Interview with Barack Obama - Discusses Change!

by Slocomb Jones - Mail can be sent to Slocomb through Tonto Balboa at tontobalboa@hotmail.com

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I’ve found my candidate!

I know who’s getting my vote!

Finally, finally, finally, there’s a candidate who gets it. Finally a candidate speaks to me, and my people. The professional bums finally have voice! The voice of change…

Spare change!

During my interview with presumptive Republican nominee John “Boxcar” McCain, I asked him for some spare change and he told me to go see the black guy.

Turns out, that black guy is none other than presumptive Democratic nominee Barack Obama.



I had to track down the guy who was basing his whole candidacy on the idea of spare change. I felt such a connection to this man and his ideas, that I knew that we were destined to be great friends.

Or at the very least, I was positive he would spare enough for me to score a 40 oz and a Hustler.

Slocomb Jones: Thanks for your time, Senator. On a personal level, your message really strikes home with me.

Senator Barack Obama: You’re welcome, Mr. Jones. I believe change is something all Americans need right now.

Slocomb Jones: I couldn’t agree more. I’ve been fighting for it my whole life. Working tirelessly on the streets for it since as long as I can remember.

Senator Barack Obama: Me too. And let me tell you right now that one of my key platforms in particular is to bring a good deal amount of change to the homeless, Mr. Jones.

SJ: Holy shit!!! I can’t wait!

SBO: We still have a lot of hard work to do between now and November.

SJ: What’s in November?

SBO: The election.

SJ: Ah, OK. That’s when it is. Good. Will it interfere with the free turkey at the end of the month?

SBO: Thanksgiving?

SJ: Whatever you fancy pants call it.

SBO: No, hopefully there won’t be any hiccups with the election process and I’ll be president before the midnight on Nov. 4th.

SJ: Where did you come up with your nickname?

SBO: Well, before I was truly comfortable with my diverse background, “Barry” made it easier for me to fit in, so to speak –

SJ: Who’s “Barry?” I’m talking about Barack! That’s a great bum name. It’s powerful, but sorta funny, a bit folksy, but with a sense of mystery and adventure –

SBO: No. No. Barack is my given birth name.

SJ: Amazing! Your parents had insight like no other… OK, let’s get back to change –

SBO: My favorite topic.

SJ: Mine as well! What’s your favorite type of change? For me, I like when you get a handful that’s just dropped in your lap, a cacophony of shiny change. I mean, sure, there might be a receipt for something old, or an empty matchbook, but it’s that change, even if it’s dented or not so shiny, it’s the change that matters!

SBO: That’s very eloquent. You know I tend to agree with you –

SJ: Oh, oh, oh, I take that back. My absolute favorite kind of change is when you lay down for a good long nap and when you wake up, there’s change scattered all about your person. It’s like waking up to a new dawn in America.

SBO: That’s precisely the type of change I plan to spread throughout the nation. Everyone will soon have a country that will sparkle with change and give people a new motivation to go out spread change of their own.

SJ: Wait a second, this just gets better and better… you mean, part of your plan is to encourage other people, strangers, to go out there and give change as well?

SBO: Of course! One man can’t do it himself. Could you imagine the type of change we could bring if everyone chipped in, even a little bit?

SJ: That’s a world I’ve been dreaming about for decades!

SBO: Me too.

SJ: Before I let you go, I was wondering if you could spare a little?

SBO: A little what?

SJ: You know, some change? I mean, come on.

SBO: Change comes from inside, my friend.

SJ: What?! The hell it does! And don’t start with that “my friend” crap.

SBO: I think we’re confused here. Do you want a handout?

SJ: Yeah! What do you think this is, “Who’s on first?” Let’s get that change goin!

SBO: There’s a difference between real change and some handout.

SJ: Not in my world, pal!

SBO: You want some handout, go see the green guy.

SJ: Green guy? What in the hell do aliens have to do with giving a guy who’s down on his luck a few bucks?! Politicians… man, all the same. All talk. No change.

Not even spare change.

- Slocomb Jones has been a professional bum for over 50 years. In April 2007, he officially announced his retirement as a bum, and has segued into a successful second career as a retired bum and part-time bum coach/advisor. Ironically, he’s busier now that he’s retired than he’s ever been in his entire life.

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USA vs. China 2008 Olympic Breakdown!

by Stephany Ericson stephany.ericson@hotmail.com

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Fast

Graceful

Productive

#1

Yes, these are indeed all words that at one time in the recent past could describe the United States Olympic teams.



As I sit here in my Barstow Hotel room (thanks for going ALL IN for my lodging Tonto…) covering the Games of the 29th Olympiad, I can only look back in wistful remembrance of a time when the good old US of A dominated all Nations in all the important sports, with the exception of Gymnastics of course.

The Eastern Bloc countries really used to have their way with us in all of those events. And certainly we didn’t produce too many Female Field event winners either. But I digress…

China is kicking our athletic asses in so many traditional American events it makes you wonder if the long feared world Communist take over is at hand.

Quite possibly it is.



Let us examine the current state of affairs. Several sports that used to be automatic GOLD for the US are now seemingly automatic GOLD for China:

Diving - now that Greg Louganis is no longer breaking the surface the Chinese will continue to run wild.

Table Tennis - how the Chinese wrestled world dominance from my Uncle Phil I’ll never know. He could whack that ball while eating a burger and holding a soda at our family reunions in Ohio.

Torture and Political Imprisonment - China has really come far in the latter two events in just the past 10 years, but I have confidence the US will soon reassert it’s grand place at the top of this hallowed heap within the year.

If you are like me, you LOVE the Olympics.

You LOVE the US.

And of course you LOVE being dominant in all things.

With this emergence of China in Olympic prowess you may be feeling a little blue, sad, and weepy. Fret not however.

We Yanks are still quite well represented in other sports.

Baseball - well, we did lose to the South Koreans but… they are our friends against China in all things Martial.

Softball - Is there any one else on the planet that can hit Jennie Finch or Cat Osterman?

Basketball - puhlease…the US will be redeemed.

You will also take pride and happiness to remember that we outdistance China in many other things aside from the sporting world. For instance: Politics!

In China there is one political party: The Communists. 1.3 billion people all agree…it’s best to live in a commune. I’ll bet that smells wonderful come washing day…



In the US, we have DOUBLE the number of political Parties!!

That’s right we have a full 100% MORE POLITICAL CHOICE than those communists.

In our glorious system, if you don’t like one candidate… you can vote for the other clearly better choice!!

That is a dream come true and proof positive that God Loves Americans and our completely dominant and Democratic way of doing things with little or no illegal influence from smaller wacko ideologues hardly ever even.



Mostly.



Also French Fries. Belgian Waffles. Tacos.

Crazy Mimes.



Ted Nugent, Swedish massages and Panda Express.

Try to find any of THOSE in China.



The US continues to Rock!!



- Stephany Ericson是一款获奖的作者，儿童读物等 “这属于你” ， “ gordita运行马拉松”和“艺术家schmartist去找到一份工作！ ” ）中提出的pacoima ，俄亥俄，由爱好祖父母，教育，在阿拉伯联合大公国，并雇用了17年的艺术的糕饼夏克波她带来了她的读者糖包衣，心脏变暖的故事，赎回全部包裹在一个非传统burqua.

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ASK A PIRATE: HOW TO GET FREE DRINKS, GET A LASS TO BE MORE THAN FRIENDS, AND PIRATE FLAG-MAKING TIPS!

By Melvin, the Pirate

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Ahoy there, mateys!

The Hopwood Games have reached their end, me fine and beauteous readers!

Yours truly took silver in the sail races. Were it not for an ill-timed seagull crash landing into me fleshy tabernacle, I’d have surely earned the gold.

But regrets make for a bitter stew, land-lovers! Better to take heart in the good things ye have, rather than curse for the lack and misery ye find in ye life.

The mail bag’s full to bursting this week! Either me readers have flooded me with questions, or some odd lot’s gone and stuffed dead ravens in me mail.

At any rate, it’s time to take notice:

Walter from Phoenix, AZ writes:

Dear Melvin,

I’m an alcoholic, and it’s costing me more and more money to buy enough booze at a bar to get me hammered. Any tips on how to scam people out of drinks?

Walter, Walter, Walter!

I’m a pirate. Getting free drinks comes natural to a pirate as breathin’ comes to ye.

Give this old favorite a try:

Next time ye visit yer local watering hole, come in wearing a fancy hat. Any fancy hat will do.

When ye spot someone with a fresh drink at their side, sidle over to them, introduce yerself, and cover their drink with yer fancy hat.

Bet them an unlimited round of drinks that ye can drink their drink without picking up the hat.

Once they accept yer wager, go crazy. Jump up and down. Make fake slurping sounds for about a minute or two.

Then, wipe off yer face, burp, and tell yer sucker that ye’ve finished their drink, and they can check it out for themselves.

When they lift the hat, grab their drink and down it all in one gulp.

Ye’ll be swimmin’ in liquor in no time!

Elmer from San Pedro, CA asks:

Melvin,

I really like this girl, but I feel like I’m stuck in the friend zone with her. How can I let her know I’m not just her buddy, but a sensual, attractive guy?

One word, me gentle dreamer:

Wrestling.

Pretty words, soft glances, holding open a door – those are all fine and fair. But if ye want to make the muscles under her dress quiver for yer eager thrusts, ye need to wrestle her.

Timing is everything. Ye can’t just meet her and throw her on the ground. Ye’ve got to take something from her that she wants back – a purse, a wallet, her keys.

Keep it light, and start the wrestling at a gentle pace. Then, when ye see that she’s starting to enjoy herself, get to tickling!

Pretty soon, one of you will have the upper hand, and yer faces will be so close ye can feel their hot, ribald breath on yer neck. Kiss her then. Gently, but with enough force to let her know that this was no accident, that yer union is meant to be.

Scarlett from Bridgeport, CT writes:

Dear Melvin the Pirate,

I’ve been working on a new pirate flag for a week now, but I’m running out of good ideas. I want something that will bring suspense and fear. Any suggestions?

Ye can’t go wrong with skulls, Scarlett.

A skeleton’s a sobering sight, when drawn correctly. Black is also a key color to use for yer background.

As for personal flair, why not go with a giant pair of blood-drenched eyes? That will soil the knickers of yer victims!

Got a question for Melvin? Leave a comment!

- Melvin the Pirate has written a number of self-help books, such as “Making Yer First Mate Yer Best Mate,” and “A Time to Rape, and a Time to Respect Wenches.” He lives in Huntington Beach, CA with his partner and prize mastiff, Belvedere.

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Film Review - Stanley Kubrick's "Killer's Kiss"

by Vans McCoy - vanssmccoy@hotmail.com

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Insomnia is real pain in the ass. There's nothing worse than having to go to court to fight a public urination ticket on no sleep. When you have bags under your eyes and your temper is sharpened by 84 minutes of rest with no nocturnal emission, of course you're going to look like guy who struggleed to muster enough piss to blast off on a Lexus.

Good luck with your "free speech" defense.

Lucky for me... or should I say, the accused... that Stanley Kubrick's Killer's Kiss was playing on some movie channel.



The story follows a rapidly declining welterweight boxer who, for lack of any other life options, starts a humor website to help cash in on his dwindling fame... oh wait, that's the guy I work for! [NOTE FROM THE CHIEF: That's enough with your God Damn cheapshots, dickhead!! - Tonto]

OK, all kidding aside, this fighter, a weenie named Davey Gordon, who might be the worst boxer in film history... which includes the first act montage of tomato cans that Rocky brutalizes in Rocky III, returns home to his dingy apartment from getting his ass KO'd in the first round of what could be his last shot at title fight (Holy Christ, this really could be the Tonto Balboa story) and sees his decently attractive blond neighbor, Gloria Price, getting roughed up by her criminal boyfriend.

It might just be me, but names don't get much more heavy handed than "Gloria Price," (glory, a price - do I have to hold your hand through this shit?) but hey, we're talking film noir, which is pretty heavy handed filmmaking genre, so I'll let this one pass.

Of course, Davey gets involved and he falls for Gloria, and she seems to like Davey enough to make out with and presumably nail (so much for this being a Tonto Balboa story), and the two plan to leave town (there's that "glory" - something pretty important to a spent fighter, right Tonto?)to a ranch ran by Davey's uncle up in Seattle.

It was Kubrick's uncle who financed the film, so setting the fabled "finish line" of the story at an uncle's place is nice way to say "hey, thanks for the cash!"

Ah, but there's no film noir without the villian, in this case the evil Vincent, who runs a dance hall where Gloria works. He too loves this dame and won't stand for her skipping town with Davey (which leads to the "a price" that I was talking about).

Of course, after an hour and change of build up, it all comes down to Davey and Vincent in a fight to the death set in a manequin warehouse, which draws some parallel to the mirror sequence from The Lady From Shanghai. It becomes very clear that Davey has no business in the ring because he really struggles against an overweight, middle age man in a zoot suit.

Plot, schmot, who gives a crap about that? This is an early Kubrick film, which is the only real reason to watch the film. There's better film noir out there, but you can see some of the forming of what would become hallmarks of Kubrick's films.

The film opens with a beautiful long shot of Davey from the floor in a train station where he decides to tell us his story in voiceover. The pacing of the film is slow and deliberate until it builds to the climax between Davey and Vincent.

There's far too much voiceover in the film, but on a low budget you gotta do what you gotta do to get all that exposition across.

The most notable theme in development in Killer's Kiss is confinement. Davey, like Jack Torrence in the Overlook, like Joker in boot camp and Vietnam, like Dr. Harford at a sex party with yuppies, and so on, is trapped externally (in Davey's case by the New York street life) as much as he is internally.

Killer's Kiss is worth a watch if you're a film nerd, or need a break from trying to figure out how to talk your way out of a $100 fine.

2 stars for Killer's Kiss

5 stars for pulling off a First Amendment free speech defense!

- Vans McCoy was knocked out at a Dead Kennedys show in the early 80’s and has been a cultural expert ever since. He has spent time in several small bands over the years. He sang for The Magnificent Cox, played bass in Manson’s Ranchers, and was lead guitarist for Televised Execution. He’s spent 347 days in local jails throughout the country and is now gainfully employed managing a local video store.

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CRIME IS A LAUGHING MATTER: MAKING DEATH THREATS WITH ELEGANCE AND STYLE

By Linus, the Angry Mime - linustheangrymime@hotmail.com

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[NOTE FROM THE CHIEF: So, you longtime readers will know that Linus is all bite and no bark, but for you new readers... ummm, don't take this article seriously, OK?! - Tonto]

Hey.

Idiots have been flapping their pie holes a lot these past few weeks.

First, we’ve got Raymond Hunter Geisel (what’s with all wanna-be presidential assassins and having three names) boasting about wanting to kill Barack Obama, and now Stephany’s decided that she wants a piece of the nutcase glory and makes death threats about me in her last “article” with all the nuance of a jackhammer.

Amateurs, all of them.

If you’ve been in the pain business as long as I have, you learn that there’s a right way and a wrong way to make it plain to someone that they outta start shopping for their final piece of real estate.

And, since I’ve taken my vow of silence over a decade ago, I can’t be lazy and use my mouth to write death checks without having to cash them with brute force.

So, as a favor to Stephany and all those misbegotten dreamers with weak wills and loose tongues, allow me to outline a few do’s and don’ts on the subject of death threats:

DON’T tell people your plans - Just don’t. I don’t care if you’re a sad, pathetic writer whose only claim to fame was sword-swallowing Ted Nugent’s meatsicle (just in case the subtlety is lost on you, Stephany, I’m talking about YOU) or some vet who sucked down a heavy post-traumatic stress disorder cocktail, you zip those lips, and keep your death threats secret.

Getting off on talking about your death threats with other people’s like paying for a hooker, and just sitting on the edge of the bed, telling her how you’re gonna rock her world. It’s a fucking waste of time and money, and it makes you look desperate.

DO make it clear to your victim that it is a death threat - Leaving impenetrable messages in an impossible-to-decode cipher may seem cool, but you can’t scare people if they don’t know what to be scared about.

There’s a fine line between spending hours placing twigs on your victim’s lawn to spell out some somber quote of reckoning from say, the Bible, and dumping a collection of fingers you’ve removed from your victim’s loved ones on their doorstep and ringing the bell.

Find that happy medium, and you’ll be richly rewarded.

DON’T farm out the job - Okay, tough guy. You’ve talked a big game, made your threat. It’s your responsibility to silence your victim.

Hiring a hit man at this point to settle your score is pathetic, and remove any chance you had to add a bit of flair to your work. Not to mention that anybody you hire to dispose of your enemy will never be loyal to you.

At the first time of trouble, they’ll talk, and then you’ll be a guest of the state for the next decade or two.

DO carry out your plans shortly after you’ve made your threat - If your victim’s scared, they won’t sleep, eat, or make rational decisions.

It makes picking them off a hell of a lot easier than if they’re running on all cylinders.

Now, try a little harder next time, Stephany, and remember, suicide bombing is for chumps!

Don’t be a chump.

- Linus is a world renowned mime artist whose productions “She Walks with Ghosts”, and “Sleep” have won him several international awards, such as the Deburau Prize He also served fifteen years in Oregon State Penitentiary for grand larceny. He trained in Paris at the International School of Corporeal Mime and will beat up anyone who has a problem with it.

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