Simon's Cat

Enough doom. Engaging levity engines.









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Pushing the Pie Party Platform

It has come to my attention that presidential hopeful Barrack Obama is apparently a regular reader of my friend Sharon's highly influential blog.

Who can forget her seminal post, "We're Going to Need More Pie"?

If I may quote:

I’m in favor of pie. I mean, what could be better than pie? It is commonly associated with good, noble things like motherhood, America, light bondage and domination, clowns and the federal reserve, so how could we not be for pie? In fact, who isn’t for pie? Well…I have to tell you the ugly truth. There are powerful anti-pie interests in our government, and people working night and day to restrict your pie access. But we here at Casaubons book (Who is “we” you ask in puzzlement? Well, Sharon has obviously gone off the deep end writing her book, as you can tell from this post, so mostly the voices in her head. But they sometimes wear cool hats, and one of them is named “Leo.”) are committed to bringing you the truth about pie access and other equally crucial issues, like socks and beer.

Now let me quote from a recent stump speech by Obama. This speech was given almost one year to the day after Sharon's Pie Post. In his speech, Obama mentions pie no less than 15 times in under two minutes:

We decided to stop at a diner because I was hungry and I decided I wanted some pie. Pie - That's what I wanted. You make pie? What kind of pie you make? Sweet potato pie? I like sweet potato pie. I'm thinking of having a sweet potato pie here in Philadelphia. Because I've heard a lot of people are saying they can make sweet potato pie. I'll put it up against my mother-in-law's sweet potato pie. Alright, you give up? ... So anyway, they did not have sweet potato pie in Southern Ohio. So I had coconut cream pie. The governor of Ohio, he had lemon meringue pie. So we ordered our pie and I decide that I'm going to take a picture with the wait staff, because they all say that the owner of the diner is a die-hard Republican, so they want to take a picture with me so they can give him a hard time. And just as we're finished taking the picture, the owner comes out, with our pie. So I take my pie, and I say I hear you're a die-hard Republican, sir...

Sounds like a solid endorsement of Sharon's revolutionary Pie Platform to me.

Here's the video clip of Obama's Pro-Pie speech:


In other news, I got a big kick out of both Obama's and John McCain's speeches at a recent charity event. I thought both candidates were very funny.

McCain, parts 1 and 2:




Obama, parts 1 and 2:




And finally, to further alienate any readers who have low-bandwidth connections (or who are uncomfortable with profanity), here's a three-part series from Funny or Die. I love the premise - "John McCain's 7th House is an apartment. Where he has 2 roommates."
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See more funny videos at Funny or Die

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Diversion... or career change...

Well, I'm so glad we threw the better part of a trillion dollars onto that bonfire. I'm sick of reading about, hearing about, and thinking about the financial meltdown. Que sera sera.

I used to draw a comic strip for a little college newspaper. It was only a weekly paper, but I still ran out of ideas pretty quickly. Every once in a while I have one of those comic strip ideas, but never do much with them. But today I decided to amuse & distract myself for a few minutes:







After I got done with it, I realized it comes across more like a greeting card than a comic strip. Oh well. C'est la vie, as long as we're throwing around cliches from other languages. I mean really, carpe diem!

[ For the record, the artwork came from a clip art repository at fotosearch.com. I'm to lazy to do my own illustration at this point. And our scanner's not working anyway. ]

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Too funny not to share...

SUBJECT: REQUEST FOR URGENT BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP

DEAR AMERICAN:

I NEED TO ASK YOU TO SUPPORT AN URGENT SECRET BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP WITH A TRANSFER OF FUNDS OF GREAT MAGNITUDE.

I AM MINISTRY OF THE TREASURY OF THE REPUBLIC OF AMERICA. MY COUNTRY HAS HAD CRISIS THAT HAS CAUSED THE NEED FOR LARGE TRANSFER OF FUNDS OF 800 BILLION DOLLARS US. IF YOU WOULD ASSIST ME IN THIS TRANSFER, IT WOULD BE MOST PROFITABLE TO YOU.

I AM WORKING WITH MR. PHIL GRAM, LOBBYIST FOR UBS, WHO WILL BE MY REPLACEMENT AS MINISTRY OF THE TREASURY IN JANUARY. AS A SENATOR, YOU MAY KNOW HIM AS THE LEADER OF THE AMERICAN BANKING DEREGULATION MOVEMENT IN THE 1990S. THIS TRANSACTION IS 100% SAFE.

THIS IS A MATTER OF GREAT URGENCY. WE NEED A BLANK CHECK. WE NEED THE FUNDS AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. WE CANNOT DIRECTLY TRANSFER THESE FUNDS IN THE NAMES OF OUR CLOSE FRIENDS BECAUSE WE ARE CONSTANTLY UNDER SURVEILLANCE. MY FAMILY LAWYER ADVISED ME THAT I SHOULD LOOK FOR A RELIABLE AND TRUSTWORTHY PERSON WHO WILL ACT AS A NEXT OF KIN SO THE FUNDS CAN BE TRANSFERRED.

PLEASE REPLY WITH ALL OF YOUR BANK ACCOUNT, IRA AND COLLEGE FUND ACCOUNT NUMBERS AND THOSE OF YOUR CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN TO WALLSTREETBAILOUT@TREASURY.GOV SO THAT WE MAY TRANSFER YOUR COMMISSION FOR THIS TRANSACTION. AFTER I RECEIVE THAT INFORMATION, I WILL RESPOND WITH DETAILED INFORMATION ABOUT SAFEGUARDS THAT WILL BE USED TO PROTECT THE FUNDS.

YOURS FAITHFULLY MINISTER OF TREASURY PAULSON

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Converging crises

Peak oil, climate change, the economic crisis, and now this:


Entertainment Scientists Warn Miley Cyrus Will Be Depleted by 2013

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Bad jokes

Okay, so since nobody got the Meadow joke, I might as well explain. Jokes that need to be explained aren't funny any more, but... You've heard of that critically acclaimed show, The Sopranos? It's about a New Jersey mob boss named Tony Soprano. He has a beautiful daughter named Meadow. Jersey girl, Meadow... ok, never mind. Really lame joke.

But while we're on the subject, have you noticed that the art of actually telling jokes is pretty much gone? Do you remember anyone telling you a joke in person in the past, oh, ten years or so? Especially something other than a one-liner?

The internet has killed joke telling. You don't tell jokes any more. You forward them.

So now I shall contribute to the problem by passing along some bad jokes via the internet. I can't tell two of these three at work anyway...

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A drunk walks into a bar with a box. "What's in the box?" asks the bartender.

"Check thish out," says the drunk, and opens the lid. Inside the box is a tiny piano, and a tiny man playing the piano.

"Wow!" shouts the bartender. "That's amazing! Does he do requests? Where did you get this?!"

"Well, thur wass this genie, see," says the drunk. "An' he gave me treeh wishhess. Fer my firsht wish, I wished fer a gallon of whiskey. Annnn' I drank it. Fer my shecond wishh, I asked fer a gallon of rrrum. An' uhh. Wull, I drank that too. Affter that it gets a lil fuzzy, becaush I don't remember my third wish," he says.

"But I'm pretty sure it wasn't for a twelve-inch pianist."

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A small farmer got a visit from the local government employment office.

"I need a list of your employees and how much you pay them," demanded the agent. "We need to make sure you're paying fair wages to your staff."

"Well," replied the farmer, "there's my farm hand who's been with me for 3 years. I pay him $400 a week plus free room and board. The cook has been here for 18 months, and I pay her $450 per week plus free room and board."

"Then there's the half-wit. He works about 18 hours every day and does about 90% of the work around here. He makes about $10 per week, pays his own room and board, and I buy him a bottle of bourbon every Saturday night. He also sleeps with my wife occasionally."

"I'm going to need to talk to the half-wit," says the agent.

The farmer replies, "You're talkin' to him right now..."

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An American relocates to the English countryside to set up a small farm. After purchasing some land, he decides to meet some local farmers, in hopes of buying some livestock. He starts walking toward town.

He sees a small cottage a ways up the road. He notices it has a chicken coop. "Fresh eggs!" he says to himself, "and meat too! Perfect."

He knocks on the door of the cottage. After introducing himself to the lady of the house, he inquires about buying one rooster and one hen.

"Certainly," says the woman, "but you should know that around here we say 'pullet' instead of 'hen', and we say 'cock' instead of 'rooster.' "

"Thank you, ma'am, I'll try to remember that," he says. After paying her, he takes one bird in each arm, and turns back toward home.

On the way back, he notices a donkey alone in a pasture. "A donkey could help me plow!" he thinks, "and provide manure for fertilizer. Perfect!"

He knocks on the door of the nearby house, and a crusty old gentleman opens the door.

"I'm interested in your donkey," he says.

"He's all yours," says the old man. "I'm too old, and he's too stubborn."

"By the way," he adds, "around here we don't call 'em 'donkeys.' We say 'asses.'"

"Right, right," says the American. "I'm still learning the little differences."

"Oh and one more thing," the old man adds, "If he won't walk, just give 'im a tickle and he'll get goin'."

"Thanks again!" says the American. With a chicken in each arm, he decides to try riding the donkey home.

When he's almost back, the donkey stops suddenly, and starts leisurely munching some grass along the roadside. The man tries to reach around and tickle the donkey, but the birds in his arms make it too awkward.

He puzzles over what to do next. He notices the woman who lives next to him coming up the road. "Excuse me!" he shouts. "Could you hold my cock and pullet while I tickle my ass?"

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My sincere apologies...

Everybody loves Crunchy

You know, there's been a lot of love out there in the blogosphere for Crunchy Chicken and her family. Everybody says how great she is, how wonderful her blog is, how inspiring...

Retch. Let me ask you: What do we really know about Ms. Chicken? How carefully have we been reading her posts? I think it's time to put Crunchy under the microscope.

I've carefully examined over two of her blog posts, and I see nothing but trouble. Let's just let her own words speak for themselves...

"I was a TP whore"

"I best go get my ass waxed!"

"I even ground some crackers."

"I just make too much money"

"I've been getting a lot..."

"And then I could sell my hairball jewelry on Etsy."

"I just about sprayed Yogi Tea out my nose"

"I got back several very positive responses and started working on a website, Goods 4 Girls. It's been a busy week and since then the website is up, I've got aid organizations on board, and the donations are coming in. It's been very inspiring and I have you all to thank for the encouragement and offers of donations."

"I just wanted to fill you all in on the latest shipment of pads to Africa from Goods 4 Girls. This week I sent out 500 pads (100 kits)! They will be delivered to South Sudan in early May by the Vermont-based non-profit called the New Sudan Education Initiative (NESEI). "

Is this really a person we should be heaping praise on? Should we really be donating money to her causes?

I'll let you, dear readers, decide for yourselves...

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I'm easily amused today

Yes, welcome to Green Blue Brown Junior High. Sorry, I don't have anything more insightful to share today...

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Two posts in one day?

I know, don't strain myself, right?

But this is funny...

Guess what?

If you laugh at any of the t-shirts on this page, you will go directly to H-E-double-hockey-sticks. Look me up when you get there.

If you don't want to risk eternal damnation, here and here are some non-blasphemous but still funny t-shirts.

Saturn's hexagon

Best explanations yet for the strange, gigantic, permanent, rotating, hexagonal cloud formation at Saturn's north pole [more or less pilfered from various comments on slashdot]:

- The US Government's super-secret replacement facility for the Pentagon

- Giant Magrathean hex bolt that holds the planet together

- Spinning bucket of water experiment on a planetary scale

- After those incredible rings, God got lazy with polygon rendering for the rest of the planet

- Honeycomb built by giant Space Bees

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I'm so mature...

Listed on my local Freecycle group:

Offer: Table top foose ball table ... all men
intact. No balls

Isn't that a contradiction?