Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Tootin’ My Own Horn

August 17, 2012

     Haven’t posted much lately because I have been spending my free time working on original computer animated shorts. You can view the videos at There are computer animations adapted from my WordPress blog pieces by Missouri based director Lucinda McNary and animations written and directed by myself. Check it out, you won’t be sorry you did! Toot toot!


The Bombthrower is Dead!

April 19, 2011

     Yikes!!! I don’t like the sound of that. Thought I was just being very, very, very quiet. Hmmm. I guess I’ll have to start making some noise. Heh heh heh. Bye bye for now.

There’s Always Room for Jell-O

October 17, 2010

(From a script for the yet-to-be-aired series, ‘Twisted Clips’. The subject of this episode was Jell-O. Enjoy!)     Dear, I’m a little concerned about your behavior lately. There’s always room for Jell-O… Uh, yes, dear. I know you have been working day and night on your ‘special Jell-O’… There’s always room for Jell-O… Yes, thank you. It’s just that you have been working so hard that I think maybe you should take a break and speak with a doctor friend of mine… There’s always room for Jell-O… Yes, that’s all you have said since you came back from the market the other day. I remember because that’s also when that meteorite came down in the woods near you. I worried that you might have been hurt in that big explosion. There’s always room for Jell-O… Yes, there wasn’t a scratch on you, thank goodness. Funny though, all you came back with from the market was your ‘special Jell-O’. There’s always room for Jell-O… I know, I know, damn it! What is wrong? All you do is make that lime Jell-O with that weird glow. The only time you stop is when you go and share some with the neighbors… There’s always room for Jell-O… If I hear that again I swear I’ll go mad! I think I’ve already gone insane. I would swear that green stuff looks almost like it is…alive. Maybe it’s just lack of sleep. There’s always room for Jell-O… Heh, heh, heh, yes, dear, there’s always room for Jell-O. Something we can agree on, I guess. Funny, I hadn’t noticed before, but I haven’t heard or seen any birds lately. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen or heard the dog or cat lately. Honey, where are the kids? There’s always room for Jell-O… I haven’t seen the Parkers from next door or the Anderson’s from across the street since you took them some of your  ‘special Jell-O’… There’s always room for Jell-O… That’s it! I can’t take it anymore! I’m getting rid of all of that goddamn stuff! There’s always room for Jell-O… Ha ha, not in this house anymore, dear! I’m going to empty this refrigerator of every damn bit of it! What the heck! It’s moving! It’s…Aaaaaaaa!!!  There’s always room for Jell-O… all over this planet, across the Galaxy and finally throughout the Universe!

Twas the Fart Heard Round the World

October 3, 2010

(From a script for the yet-to-be-aired series, ‘Twisted Clips’. The subject of this episode was flatulence. Enjoy!)     Whew. Gee, I hope no one noticed, heh heh. HE WAS A DOE EYED BEAUTY WITH KEWPIE DOLL LIPS… Kewpie doll lips??? TWAS THE FART HEARD ROUND THE WORLD! Who the heck are you guys??? WE ARE THE ETERNAL CHORUS THAT CELEBRATES MANKIND’S GREATEST ACHIEVEMENTS. What I did was one of mankind’s greatest achievements? IT’S BEEN PRETTY SLIM PICKINGS LATELY ACHIEVEMENT-WISE. IT WAS BETWEEN YOU AND A GUY THAT GREW A RUTABAGA THE SIZE OF A CADILLAC ELDORADO. WE HATE RUTABAGAS. I think you should really give that rutabaga a second chance. They can be pretty tasty. SORRY, WE’RE STICKING WITH YOUR COLOSSAL GASSER. TWAS THE FART HEARD ROUND THE WORLD. It wasn’t that bad. MOUNTAINS SHOOK, SEAS PARTED AND ALL BECAUSE YOU FARTED. Is it all going to be in rhyme? NO, THAT WOULD TAKE TOO LONG AND WE WANT TO GET HOME EARLY TO CATCH SOMETHING REALLY GOOD ON CABLE. Don’t let me stop you. Go on home, we can do this fart thing some other time. NICE TRY, YOU ARE STILL GETTING THE WHOLE PACKAGE, BROTHER. Oh, come on. Nobody noticed! THE POPE REFERRED TO IT AS AN ‘UNHOLY EMANATION’. TWAS THE FART HEARD ROUND THE WORLD. You’re exaggerating! PACIFIC ISLANDERS KNOW THAT THE SOURCES OF TSUNAMIS ARE EARTHQUAKES AND YOU. TWAS THE FART HEARD ROUND THE WORLD. You’re wasting your time! No one will remember! YOUR MOTHER NOW CALLS YOU ‘TOOTS’. TWAS THE FART HEARD ROUND THE WORLD. You’re making this all up. The young lady I was with at the restaurant didn’t say a thing. THAT’S BECAUSE YOU BLEW HER OUT OF THE PLACE AND SHE FLED IN HORROR INTO THE NIGHT NEVER TO BE SEEN AGAIN. Gee, I wondered where she went. Guess I owe her a phone call and maybe some flowers would smooth things over. DREAM ON. TWAS THE FART HEARD ROUND THE WORLD. Okay, okay, go ahead and praise away. It’s not like it will ever happen again. Uh oh! I think you boys had better head for high ground! HOLY SMOKES! WHAT THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN EATING? TWAS ANOTHER FART HEARD ROUND THE WORLD. THAT RUTABAGA IS LOOKING BETTER AND BETTER.

Love’s Disaster Area

June 27, 2010

     Pa-toink! Ouch! Hey, will you knock it off already! Valentine’s Day is long over and, besides that, you don’t look much like Cupid. That cute little cherub myth is entirely the work of Madison Avenue. Selling all those greeting cards and chocolates to gullible saps is a billion dollar business. Anyway, I think the real me would be very marketable. With that flat top and rumpled brown suit, you look like a reject from a 50’s film noir thriller. One where your character had just gotten out of ‘the joint’ and was getting ready to ‘mix it up’ with Robert Mitchum. Ah, Bob Mitchum, now there was a sweetheart. Never had any problems with shooting him with one of my arrows and he was a genuine ‘tough guy’. Look at him funny and he’d toss you threw a plate-glass window, but he fell in love with no problems at all for me, unlike some people I know. Now, what’s up with you, bub? Love. I’m impervious to the stuff, brother. Love is nothing but a cruel illusion. You must run into folks that never fall in love, right? Never. Your obstinacy is throwing off nature’s order of things. It’s making me look bad. Now gods and demigods no longer respect me. Worst of all, pixies are openly mocking me! Pixies!!! It’s times like this that I wish I packed ‘heat’ instead of these poofy little arrows. That’s some attitude you got there for a god of love. Love’s got nothing to do with it. It’s a matter of respect, pure and simple. So, when are you gonna fall in love, bub? You don’t offer much in the way of choices for soul mates. What do you mean? I mean one Hildegarde Gerkenflerken. Gesundheit. Sorry, I love that joke. She’s a lovely woman, solidly built and dependable. What more could a man ask for? You make her sound like a Conestoga wagon. If I was looking to cross the Great Plains, maybe I’d be interested, maybe. I’m looking for someone to share my life with and, besides that, there’s the issue of a little deal breaker. What are you talking about? The vestigial penis she has. I still wake up screaming about that one. Yet, you got along well enough with old Hildegarde to find out, eh? Heh heh heh. A certain amount of drinking was involved there, Cupie. I’ve taken the pledge, brother, and there is no ‘girl with something extra’ in this boy’s future. Okay,okay, you’ve convinced me. I know when I’m beat, so I’ll be on my merry way… Pa-toink pa-toink pa-toink! Wow. You never give up, do you? Nope. I will never fall in love with Hildegarde Gerkenflerken. Would have thought how I escaped from the headlock she had me in as she was dragging me down the wedding aisle would have convinced you. What can I say, I’m a romantic fool. Cupie, I suspect there’s some sort of financial incentive involved here. Did Hildegarde Gerkenflerken pay you to make me fall in love with her? You think I get by on job satisfaction alone? Them poofy arrows, the bow and quiver are all custom made by a weird little man who lives in a hollowed out tree deep in the Black Forest. The guy gives me the creeps. He always wants me to fix him up with some goddesses. I should send him some horny pixies, but I think the freak would like it. Yuk. I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do to help. Oh, you can. Have a big heapin’ helpin’ of Gerkenflerken lovin’! Pa-toink pa-toink pa-toink! Man, you’re fast on the draw, but no dice. If I did fall in love, it would only be with a certain woman, and you know who she is. Boopsie Shillington! That ain’t gonna happen, bub! Why? Professional ethics. In the love biz, she’s what’s referred to as ‘love’s disaster area’, hazardous and to be avoided at all costs. Again, why? Think about how you two first met? Why, as I remember, it was at a church social. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Nothing wrong at all, if you don’t count that she was ‘naked as a jaybird’ and out of breath. Boopsie said she had snagged her clothes on a bush and then a big gust of wind blew them away. More like she had left them all strewn about the sacristy after a handsome church sexton’s wife caught them in a ‘vigorous discussion’ about the nature of good and evil that was about to come to a head, if you know what I mean. I’m no bible scholar, but I’d hazard a guess that the evil side was winning at that point. Heh heh heh. Sometimes she slips, but she always comes back to me. Yeah, to rest after all them ‘vigorous discussions’ with all those other guys. A stay with you is more therapeutic than a visit to a clinic, something I’m sure she is no stranger to, if you know what I mean. She has the greatest smile. Oh, brother! I’ll never win with this guy. No respect and made fun of by pixies, what a life! Well, you’ve won, so I’ll be on my way… Pa-toink! Nice try. Maybe I could get a reality show on cable? People can’t keep “Keeping Up with the Kardashian’s” forever.


June 13, 2010

     I am spellbound. Spell-bound… That I wake up to a new day leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… Eating a hearty breakfast followed by a big, er, um, well, it leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound? That gravity keeps me from floating away leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… That we have a governor that showed his bare ass in those ‘Terminator’ films leaves me spellbound. Huh? Er, I mean, Spell-bound… The Renaissance leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter leave me spellbound. Spell-bound… Real-life goddesses leave me spellbound. Spell-bound… Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon’s performances in ‘Bound’ leave me spellbound. Woo hoo! Spell-bound… That I made love to four beautiful Japanese sisters at the same time leaves me spellbound. WOW!!! Er, um, I mean, Spell-bound… Watching Alfred Hitchcock’s 1945 film, ‘Spellbound’, leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… Listening to Aretha and Stevie Ray always leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… God leaves us all spellbound. Spell-bound… That I fell in love with the ‘wrong woman’ leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… Her smile always leaves me spellbound.  Spell-bound… That I can see, leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… That I’m ripping off, er, I mean, paying homage to an old Smithereens song leaves me spellbound. Spell-bound… That I am still spellbound leaves me spellbound. Could I hear a little more about those sisters? Er, um, Spell-bound… No, because I am spellbound. Yeah, yeah, you’re Spell-bound…

It’s All True

April 25, 2010

     Hmmm, I wonder if there’s anything good on tv tonight? …Welcome to ‘It’s All True’, the weekly spotlight of subjects of note and notoriety. This week our show is all about YOU!!! Me!!! Wow! Lucky I tuned in, but I don’t think there’s anything that interesting about me. Certainly not enough to fill an hour’s worth of airtime. Forty-two minutes with commercials to be exact and don’t be so certain about whether your life is interesting or not. Why just look at when you were born. Nothing special there I’m afraid. Your mother found you under a cabbage leaf. Holy smokes! I thought that was just an old expression, like how my granny would say that gramps was “full of banana oil”.  He really was. It was a rare medical condition. The New England Journal of Medicine thoroughly documented it in a 1939 issue. Does this mean that when mother said that “papa was a rolling stone”… Yes, your real father was Keith Richards. Gosh, I guess that explains why ‘I can’t get no satisfaction’. Heh heh heh. I wonder what else happened to me?  In 1963, during the filming of ‘Cleopatra’, you had a torrid affair with Elizabeth Taylor. Wow! Pretty good for a two-year old. It must be true if  it’s on tv. And live streaming video too! I’m more amazing than I thought. Indeed. Like Jerry Lewis, France awarded you the Legion of Honor. I wonder where I put the darned thing? You also had a quite memorable romance with Carly Simon, but it ended badly after you broke a date and flew your Learjet to Nova Scotia to see the total eclipse of the sun. She was so upset she wrote a song about it. Sound’s like I was so vain. I’ll bet people think that song was about me. Don’t they? Don’t they?  Now I’m almost afraid to find out what I did next. During the 1980’s you became disenchanted with your life and thought it was time for a change. Doesn’t sound  too bad. Go on. You had a sex change operation. Yikes!!! But you were dissatisfied with the results and had it changed back. Talk about your buyer’s remorse! Whew, look’s like everything is still in order though. Indeed. You were secretly married simultaneously to Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie and carrying on a secret affair with Nicole Kidman  and three-quarters of The Pussycat Dolls. Wow! I’m a menace! How did I ever find the strength? You have an evil twin named Chester. Thank goodness, sound’s like I need all the help I can get to romance all them dames. I always thought I’d look good with a evil twin goatee. Is there anymore about me? We have come to the end of this week’s show… Thank goodness, I can’t take anymore about me. …Tune in next week for a profile of Leslie C. in ‘Confessions of a Former Sally Star Lollipop Dancer’!!! Scandalous! There ought to be a law!

Cute Cat

March 21, 2010

     Good evening, this is Spotlight and I’m your host, Trilby Phipps. Trilby? This week we have a very special interview with one of the more unusual superheroes, Danger Kitty. That’s Captain Danger Kitty! I would like to be addressed by my proper rank please. Captain Danger Kitty, you’re so darned cute. Do you mind if I scratch behind your ears and rub your tummy? I’d have to kill you if you did that, Trilby. Heh heh heh. That’s very funny. No, I’m not kidding, I would really have to kill you. It’s in a directive issued by the Pentagon. Sorry. Okay… Maybe then you could share with our viewers how you became Captain Danger Kitty. Back in the 60’s, I was a scientist working on secret projects for the Department of Agriculture. During an experiment that went horribly wrong, I was transformed into a kitten with superpowers. Who knew you couldn’t use a super collider to make a better chick pea? They had super colliders back in the 60’s? Yes, it was top secret technology that, unfortunately, I found out later, was not supposed to be used to make better chick peas. It stated that specifically in the user’s manual, but who reads those things anyway. So, what were some of your superpowers? Among other things, I could eat ice cream without getting ‘brain freeze’ and leap tall buildings in nine or ten bounds. Uh huh. What was it like being a superhero back in the 60’s? It’s all blur because I was doing a lot of catnip and squeaky toys back then, if you know what I mean. Heh heh. I do remember being pretty tight with Keith Moon and The Beatles. You knew The Beatles? They knew me, Trilby, they knew me. That song on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was almost called ‘Captain Danger Kitty in the Sky with Diamonds’. Unfortunately, since I was working for Uncle Sam, the government didn’t want the publicity, so the song was changed. Too bad, it had top ten written all over it. Uh huh. What do you think most people don’t know about being a superhero? After you get the superpowers, you can’t just hit the streets and battle evildoers. I had to attend special courses to get my superhero accreditation. Let me tell you it wasn’t easy either, it was hard trying to take notes with these tiny paws. I only passed the weapons section because the Navy Seals administering it thought I looked so adorable trying to fire a Uzi. So you use cuteness to your advantage? Sometimes, but it’s also a hindrance to being taken seriously. At a White House dinner honoring me for rescuing astronauts from an out of control space capsule, I hauled off and slapped Lady Bird Johnson after she petted and tickled me for the twelfth time. What happened then? LBJ officially reprimanded me and unofficially wanted to give a medal for bravery. What are some of the highlights of your superhero career? I’ve rescued several Presidents, a Pope or two and the Queen on three different occasions, without a single thank you note mind you. I’ve stopped supervillians from detonating stolen nukes and defeated the occasional killer robot army from outer space. Impressive. There has been some controversy too? I thwarted an invasion from Saturn, but nobody believed me afterwards. You said they came disguised as teddy bears. Them Saturnians were plenty sneaky, bub. If I hadn’t done something you would be knee deep in flesh eating aliens. So you destroyed millions of teddy bears. You’re welcome. Some people are so ungrateful. Can I ask about Bodacious Jones? That’s old news. The press blew our relationship all out of proportion. She was simply an exotic dancer/secret agent, that’s all. We both worked for Uncle Sam, so how much trouble could a stripper/superspy and a kitty with superpowers get into? Have mercy! I used to be Major Danger Kitty back then, but they busted me down to captain for that infraction. Woo hoo! I’m  lucky Clinton was President back then. Uh huh. Didn’t you used to have a couple of sidekicks? My bosses got all pc on me and decreed that I should have a dog and a mouse as helpers. What happened to them? Oh, I burned the dog to a cinder with my heat vision and ate the mouse. A cat’s got to do what a cat’s got to do, you know. Do you have a super secret headquarters? Superman has the Fortress of Solitude, but all I have is the Duplex of Indifference. The Flash and Ironman used to live together in the unit next door. They lived together? Don’t ask, don’t tell, as we say in the military. They threw some great parties. As a superhero, what is your greatest regret? That I never became as well known as say Batman or The Hulk. In polls I still rank far below that fat lasagna eating so-and-so, Garfield. On the plus side, I now rank higher than both Fritz and Felix the cat. So, finally what would you most like our viewers to know about you? Well, Trilby, that I’m just an average down to earth kitty with superpowers and that they will never have to fear being eaten by Saturnian teddy bears while I’m on the job. Okay… I’m Trilby Phipps and this has been a very special edition of Spotlight. Good night. Are you named after a kind of hat?

Fruitcake, the Christmas Menace

December 20, 2009

      Grandma’s Fruitcakes Incorporated. How may I help you? May I speak to Grandma? Heh heh heh. That’s a good one, sir. You’d be surprised how many people call this hotline and ask to speak with the dear old lady. Do you have a question that I can help you with, sir? How can I stop the fruitcakes from coming? You have too many fruitcakes coming to you? Hundreds of them, thousands of them. Heh heh heh. Around holiday time it just seems that way, sir. It’s usually just a handful that get passed around over and over again. It  sounds like I can’t stop the fruitcakes. No, you can’t stop the fruitcakes from coming around Christmas. What don’t you like about them? Well, they actually don’t have real fruit in them, do they? They do have fruit-like fruit, sir. Hmmm. It sounds like death and fruitcake are both inevitable. Yes, a very astute observation. It’s just I’ve noticed something different this year. People, that for years despised fruitcake, now crave the stuff and just can’t seem to get enough. Why is that? Attitudes are changing, people are changing. We at Grandma’s think that is a pretty good trend. It’s almost like that old movie, people are being replaced by pod people. Pod fruitcakes? Don’t be silly, sir. You might as well say that an army of zombie fruitcakes, controlled by a giant alien fruitcake brain, are swarming across your planet. Your planet? Don’t you mean our planet? Oh yes, of course, our planet. Just a slip of the tongue there, sir. Yes. It seems I’m the only one left in town who still hates fruitcake. I keep finding the stuff mysteriously dropped off at my home and office. Can’t get rid of the stuff fast enough. Too bad, Dr. Miles Bennell. Would that be your home and office in Santa Mira, California? How do you know who I am and where I live? A little thing called caller I.D., sir. You’re too suspicious, Dr. Bennell. A nice piece of fruitcake would make you feel right as rain. Nice try, Grandma or should I say Mr. Zombie Alien Fruitcake! I’ve been lulling you into a false sense of security while I alert the authorities to your evil plot. Your message was intercepted. You’ll be happy to know the Governor has declared a fruitcake state of emergency and, as we speak, elements of the National Guard are spreading fruitcakey cheer throughout the state. No! Yes, as a matter of fact, your shipment of ‘extra special fruitcake’ should be arriving…right now. What!!! Oh, my God! They’re here already! You’re next! You’re next! Aaaaaaaa! Another satisfied customer. Remember, when it comes to fruitcake, resistance is futile. Merry Christmas, heh heh heh.

The Trouble with Thanksgiving

November 21, 2009

     I’m not sure this is the best way to celebrate Thanksgiving, dear. What do you mean? Every year the town transforms into ‘Turkeytown USA’ and, since I’ve taken charge, the event has gotten national, even worldwide attention. This town is on the map now. The Guinness World Records people are here to see the record broken for number of deep fried turkey dinners served on Thanksgiving. Cable news is here. We’re on the internet 24 hours a day leading up to turkey day and I’m going to be interviewed by the Good Morning America people live on Thanksgiving. How better to celebrate than that, honey? It just seems wrong somehow. Mabel, your fiance of eight years is going to be famous. How can that be wrong? I don’t know, it’s just wrong. You think maybe it’s not a traditional Thanksgiving? Here we are at the largest VFW hall in the state, with hundreds of deep fryers and tanker trucks lined up outside filled to the brim with peanut oil, ready to make a memorable holiday. Oh sure, in the past we had some participants drop stone cold dead after indulging in too much deep fried goodness, but thems the breaks, dear. The coroner’s report said their hearts literally exploded. Mabel, you take a chance walking out your front door each day of your life. You never had a problem before, what’s changed? I’ve been talking to the stranger that just checked into the motel over by the interstate. His name is Tomas Toorkay. Sounds French. I heard there was an odd little fellow staying at the Econo Lodge. Is that him? He’s not odd. Tomas was very interested about all the turkeys we have in pens out back. Mabel, you shouldn’t be talking to this foreigner. He may be here to steal my secret recipe. Probably take it back to France and add eels and frog legs, then call it ‘turkey ooh la la’ or something. Tomas has very soulful eyes. Better watch out, Mabel. He may be trying to bedazzle you. He said it was wrong to kill so many helpless turkeys. Wrong! Every year the boys and girls from the 4-H have a  grand old-time ‘processing’ them birds. All that stunning the turkeys and then slitting their little throats is more fun than any old video game. Besides, it teaches a valuable life lesson. What’s that? Eat or be eaten, honey, eat or be eaten. Tomas says it is a crime and his words move me deeply. He stirs something inside of me. I don’t like the sound of this. You won’t ‘accommodate’ me when I feel a little frisky after league night at the Bowl-O-Rama, but some Frenchman gets you in a tizzy with his words. That’s not right, I tell you. I don’t know, he makes me want to…baste him. Mabel! I’ll not have that kind of talk at the VFW! Have you no shame! I want to lay him down in a bed of stuffing, green beans with almonds and yams or sweet potatoes, I can never tell which is which or if they’re the same thing. Mabel! Get a hold of yourself! This foreigner has bedevilled you with his European ways and tight britches! Actually, he wasn’t wearing any clothes at all. What!!! That Frenchie is running around town nekked! I’m gonna call the sheriff! This is America, we keep our clothes on! Well, he was covered with feathers. Sounds like some sort of fan dancing weirdo to me. Mabel, did he make any improper advances? No, but I did touch his waddle. I couldn’t help myself. What!!! That’s it, I’m getting my shotgun! A man can take just so much…what’s that noise? It’s a…STAMPEDE!!! It’s Tomas! He’s freed all the turkeys and is leading them out-of-town! Come back, Tomas, I love you! What did you say, Mabel? Oh, nothing. That’s gratitude. We saved them Frenchies back in dubya dubya two and how do they repay us? They mess with our women folk and steal our turkeys! That feathery foreigner probably took those birds for some immoral purpose. Yup, something real weird and French, I bet. Well, time to put ‘Plan B’ into action. What’s that? I had a contingency plan ready in case we were ever struck by turkey rustlers, it happens more often than you think, honey. Uh huh Yes, we’re now going for the world record of most grilled cheese sandwiches served in a day. I gotta get in touch with the boys at Velveeta and Wonderbread. I’ll have to arrange an National Guard airlift, I wonder where I put the governor’s telephone number? If this isn’t an emergency, then I don’t know what is. I wonder if Tomas will ever come back? What did you say, dear? Oh, nothing. Are you mad at me, honey? How could I ever be mad at the woman who, in six or seven years, will do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Ferd Scroggins. Gobble gobble. What was that, dear? Oh, just Happy Thanksgiving, sweetie.