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I’ve been itching to start a place where comedy lives. A place where writers and comedians can share their experiences with the art and science of humor. I took the big plunge and started a social-disease-networking site at Ning, ironically named AmishOnLine.
If you’re an established or budding humorist, satirist, comedian, cartoonist, or just slightly off-kilter, I encourage you to join. We’ll laugh, maybe at you or just near you, I don’t know which. It’s hard to tell who is pointing and giggling online.
Just follow the link and tell us a little about yourself. It’s brand-freaking new, so there’s not much there, but the upside is, as an inaugural member, you can help shape the site. Brothers and Sisters, I urge you to join the modern movement that is AmishOnLine.
Having just come off my Columbus Day blockbuster (and by blockbuster I mean AC paid me a couple of bucks for it), I got to looking at some of my older articles with holiday themes for the up-coming season. Here’s what I found, dusted off, and present for your strong disapproval.
Top Ten Gift Ideas for Zombies >> This could work for Halloween or as a guide for Christmas shopping.You know they are coming back…for the holidays. You don’t want to donate your brain, so buy them this!
Anti-Psychic for Hire >> A fun Halloween romp. Learn my dirty secret and how I started a lucrative business. Are you haunted by ghosts? Does unexplainable fear run your life? Are supernatural powers out to get you? Hire the Anti-Psychic today and reclaim your life if not your sofa.
A Handy Guide to Surviving Thanksgiving >> Thanksgiving can be exhausting, but these tips will get you through the day, especially if family is coming. Memories, food, and fuzzy memories await.
New Christmas Songs >> Tired of singing the same old Christmas carols? I’ve rewritten some of the old standbys with new lyrics in the spirit of Christmas, joy, love and in memory of Tom Cruise (inarguably the worst actor ever and a man who supplies endless fodder for ridicule).
Holiday Shopping Hints or How to Serve Your Country >> These are simple rules to make your holiday shopping experience better. Learn why everyone should be compelled to serve their country either in the military, the Peace Core, or behind the retail counter at least once in their life. You’ll learn so much about yourself.
And just for some non-comic relief:
When Veteran’s Day is Personal >> Soldiers are a breed apart. We would not enjoy our freedoms without their sacrifices. One day of remembrance each year is not enough. I remember my soldier 365 days a year. Here is why. Nothing humorous to read here. But since Veteran’s Day is also coming up, I thought it proper to include my very personal ode to Dad.
I hate most holidays. Most have lost their original meaning. Nowadays, the only real reason for a holiday is to take a day off work and slack around. I always felt some holidays were more contrived than others. Columbus Day was at the top of that list until I realized the true potential of memorializing Christopher Columbus.
I laughed myself silly at this. Not far to go, I know.
Ventriloquist aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but this twist had me crying with laughter. Paul Zerdin brings a volunteer on stage, outfits him with a remote-controlled mouth and has his way with the subject. The outstanding part is how well this guy plays along. He does a great job anticipating Zerdin’s quips. The “dummy” in this routine deserves a contract of his own. Notice the “sexy” wave. Then notice the dance moves that don’t happen.
Sorry about the sound quality. You have to turn up the volume and the laughter gets loud, but you’ll be laughing along with it, so enjoy.
My blog buddy Jenn posted about “your worst camping nightmare” contest. I reminded me of this horror story from my past.
July is a hot month. The July in question was hotter than most. 104F in the shade. Yes, I said shade. 115F in the sun. When you walked through the threshold of the air-conditioned RC’s door, the humidity felt like freshly mucked drywall. As long as we had to endure the heat, we thought the beach breeze and water would be a slight comfort.
We packed the tent and some belongings onto the roof of the old, reliable station wagon and the four of us set out for the Gulf of Mexico. It rained the entire drive from the farm to Grayton Beach State Park (FL). That should have been our first clue, but the rain stopped as we arrive. Sucker punched again.
I staked the tent, complete with tarp porch and set up camp. The remainder of the day was spent wandering between the gators and the water. The night fell, but unknown to us, the Clampetts had moved in next door.
Quiet time in a state park is a given. Unfortunately, the Clampetts were never given anything in their life except for possibly the two cases of beer, also off limits in the state park, they brought with their horseshoes. Not the rubber set mind you, but the full-metal-jacket version.
Once the whooping, hollering, clanking and beer-can crushing stopped around 2AM, I finally got some sleep. My wife, however did not. By 7AM, I was directed to do something. I made breakfast. Apparently, that is not what was expected of me and by 9AM I was told that better accommodations were being sought. She took the car and sped west.
Now your standard black and green camping tent can absorb and amazing amount of solar energy before 10AM. I didn’t realize just how much until the stakes were up and it hit the sand. The next 3 hours were spent like this: Roll three turns. Ow! Roll two turns. Ow! Roll one turn. Ow! Roll a quarter turn. Holy cheese! Roll…Mother of Pearl! Roll…Kid’s take a walk. Daddy needs some space.
By 1PM the tent was tucked, the car was back (there’s the little woman) and we were off. Where? I didn’t care. My hands had 2nd degree burns and I needed a Mai-Tai.
The Holiday Inn in Sandestin, FL is a lovely pink building with a very refreshing swimming pool and a chastity-belt-wearing, 400-year-old receptionist who insists that check-in can not be accomplished before 3PM. Kids, let’s go stand in the pool.
It is important to know that these events took place about 10 years ago. That doesn’t mean that Ursula of the undead isn’t still there. I think they built the hotel around her because she refused to move.
I was watching the show from the D.C. and fell out of my chair laughing.
First, I was uber-impressed at the 1812 semi-closing. I’ve been at the Mall in person when that was done and it is a sight to behold. Massive fireworks, cannons on queue, and applause, quite stirring.
But someone slipped something in sideways on the proceedings. 1812 ended, but the fireworks didn’t. How to fill the time? With Sousa’s Liberty Bell.
Why laugh? Because that is the theme to Monty Python’s Flying Circus. I’m conflicted. My patriotism is incensed, but my funny bone is rocking.
Dear Mr. Bush,
You pay little attention to details. Maybe you spend to much time stragerizing and the bread part of the circus formula goes unaddressed.
Between work and a much needed mini-vacation, I haven’t put anything on AC in quite a while. Now that things are returning to something close to normality, I was able to punch this out over coffee this morning.
Tonight we shall dine in finery at Ruth’s Chris. I’m treating my 25-years-tomorrow partner and the 1-year newlyweds to dinner.
What to get for the big silver anniversary? Eyewear of course. She hasn’t had her eyes checked in over 3 years. I don’t think she’d have gone if she hadn’t slept in her glasses and bent them. All the gentle badgering in the world didn’t seem to work, but blindness is a great motivation.
The newlyweds are having their own life-building struggles. Jenn’s doctor didn’t fill out a form correctly and Public Safety suspended her license. It’s good that her husband adores her so much. He’s having to tote her everywhere now. I hope they are using the togetherness to build a stronger relationship.
Jenn isn’t as upset about not driving as she is about the doctor filling out the form incorrectly not once, but twice. Now the doctor has reversed her decision on the matter and refuses to sign off. That makes the first form a fraud. Jenn is hopping mad and plans to file complaints with the state medical board. Damn, I raise a spitfire.
My prophetic utterances have proven true. I knew there was more to this taking your shoes off at the airport thing. One person screws it up for everyone. Now that CNN reports this guy is an idiot, we will all be treated like bigger idiots.
I told you the truth months ago and you said I was a lunatic. Who’s laughing now? Well, probably all of us because it’s just that stupid.
I’m tired of these M*****F***** snakes on my M*****F***** plane!
I’ll admit, I enjoy Real Time with Bill Maher on HBO. I’m not fanatical and don’t cry for a week if I miss one, but I’m usually coming off a Sci-Fi bloat on Friday nights and it’s good for several laughs.
Maher and my politics are pretty far apart. I’m so middle of the road, I have a yellow line painted down my back. I lean to the right just southeast of Libertarian. Bill’s is pretty much a one Czar short of Communism. So why do I watch?
It’s funny for the most part. It gets me thinking about things I wouldn’t normally bother with. It also runs my wife out of the room, so there’s that 60 minutes of peace and quiet.
The show that aired on 13 April 2007 started a chain of paranoid synapse firings that has me convinced of a Bill Maher conspiracy to watch me from his side of the television. I think he’s stocking me.
I nearly slid out of my chair last Friday when he did a segment called “John McCain’s Zagat’s Travel Guide.” It was a funny piece with a funny premise. I should know because I practically wrote it. The parallels between Maher’s schtick and my Cheap Over-looked Vacation Packages (written back in January 2007) were astounding.
We both mention Baghdad and the green zone. We both used prisons; he use Abu-ghraib; I used Gitmo. Both pieces used the dangerous, hot spots on the globe as a vacation spoof.
Am I accusing Maher of stealing my material? No, of course not. It’s just strange how the world works. I see things on TV and say, “I wished I’d thought of that.” Now I can say, “Hey did you see Real Time the other night? I thought of that first.”
I’m ruined! Panic spread over me like wildfire. It started as an ordinary drive home from work, but quickly turned into a panic attack.
Everything was as it should be as I left work tonight. The car started on one try. The radio was preset to the evening news. I was ready for the stock report. My stocks have been doing pretty well and I was anxious to hear how much more I had “earned” today.
I hadn’t made it to the first intersection when the news came over the airwaves. The numbers were spewing out like a torpedoed submarine: 75, 62, 55. My heart was pounding. I had plans for my retirement. No!
50. Maybe the mortgage will get paid by the time I’m 65. Maybe not.
47. Land. Yes, I have some land I could sell.
42. I hope my kids remember what a great dad I was when they were young.
35. Is it too late to have another kid? No! That’s crazy talk. They cost too much and I’m broke.
27. I start fumbling for my cell phone. There has to be a realtor in my address book. I have to get the house on the market ASAP.
19. I’m swerving all over the road and don’t care. So what if I die in a firey wreck? At least the insurance will keep my widow comfortable. What other alternative do I have? Ruined. Pennyless. Broke.
“And that’s a recap of the weather since Friday. A dramatic drop in temperature and a low tonight expected to be 19,” came from the radio.
My apologies to the old couple that I ran off the road and onto the railroad tracks. To the young mother with baby in car seat who swerved into the church parking lot to avoid me, again, sorry. Can’t do anything about the three cats I hit, but that could have been any drive home.
And to the weather man who prempted the stock report, if I find you, I will harm you.
