Its a FunnyThing...

Stop Me or I'll Sing Again

2009-03-08T10:08:00.000-07:00

Gosh! November 22nd? Has it been that long?

Honestly. I was taking a little time off. A break to reinvigorate the fertile writing juices flowing through the Vas deferens tubes of my creative humor. Plus I'd been spending some time working closely with the Obama Administration on the Stimulus package until it came to my attention that they didn't really need another humorist.

So. Yesterday I was doing some important research on inflation over at the Betty's Big'uns web page when I received a notice that a 'Brent Diggs' had posted a commentary on my Myspace page.

Since I couldn't recall knowing a Brent Diggs, I initially assumed it was some kind of multi-level marketing scam. I mean, Brent Diggs ha ha! Obviously one of those randomly generated names like Sanjay Gupda that infest my email inbox with headings like "You Plenty Satisfy-Big Kielbasa!"

Well imagine my surprise to find out that Brent Diggs is a fairly consistent 'nom de plume' for the Author of the Ominous Comma! (Personally, I would have thought of a more realistic name, but Brent Diggs does at least have the benefit of being faintly ridiculous.)

Not only did Brent waste a great deal of magnetic ink writing about my absence from the bloggo-sphere, but he even composed a ditty* about me and placed it on Youtube.

*dit'ty (dit'i) n,; A short, often criminally actionable fragment of doggerel with less socially redeeming significance then "We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun." See: Copy right infringement; Peter, Paul and Mary.

Thus proving my contention that a failing economy can best be recognized and tracked by the amount of free time available to humor writers.

Brent. I'm touched. And I'm also pretty sure that THAT is covered under the restraining order.

Nevertheless, in the interest of public safety, I will yield your terrorist extortion and begin to reignite the humor-reading world with swamp-gas-like explosions of written mirth.

This kind of video-musical madness must be stopped. Or we will soon be seeing LOBO doing free-style Rap.

And nobody wants that.

Cow Boy

2008-11-22T09:09:00.000-08:00

Just got a new cow in today. Last night actually. This one, unlike our Dexters (An old Irish breed, small and dual purpose: milk and meat.) is a Jersey who's sole existence in life as far human relations go, is to provide milk.

Lots and lots of milk.

Gallons of the stuff.

Daily.

She looks like a bone frame covered in skin attacked to a giant bag of milk.

The problem of course is they forgot to install an efficient faucet on that bag. I suspect it's an English design thing. There are four nozzles or, and here I blush: teats, that one is supposed to yank on with a sort of top-down squeezing motion. This isn't as easy as it sounds, and its all complicated by the fact that the boney frame holding the sack keeps moving about. She doesn't seem to be doing it with malice, but she does seem to be incredibly adept at either kicking the bucket over just as you finally get almost enough milk to transfer to the larger pail or putting her hoof down on your foot.

When I say your foot, I don't mean my foot. I actually refer to my wife's foot. But I was right there, psychically sharing the pain with her- which according to my wife isn't quite the same as actually sharing the pain.

We got her cheap from a dairy over in Washington. (The cow, not my wife. I got her (wife) from California a lot of years ago.) Seems she's a very good producer (cow), but doesn't work on a milking machine and I think the dairy owner was getting a little tired of having to hand milk her. I can't blame her because I'm already tired of it and that's only from watching my wife do all the work.

We've kept her in the corral so far, separated from our other cows, to let her get used to the new location and the strange hands groping at her (blush) teats. (Third base on the first date.) This hasn't stopped our bull, Zeus, from trying to find a way into the corral to check out his new harem member.

It's pretty funny, because being a short legged Dexter bull, it's kind of like watching a macho Pekingese chatting up an Irish wolf hound. He's out there, pushing at the fence and bellowing out the bullish equivalents of "What's your sign?" and "Come here often?" And no doubt trying to figure out how to get her to a convenient ditch to make his amorous attempts a little easier on his tiny legs.

This is all going to take a few adjustments for us all.

I Ain't A'feared of Nobody!

2008-10-23T09:21:00.000-07:00

I am pleased to announce that the Don Lewis for President Campaign is reaching new levels of excitement! As you can see from the map below, we obviously have grown exponentially in committed supporters. (Many of our supporters are not committed yet, but the Court Orders are pending.)

And there is more good news. In a recent nation-wide survey, there are powerful indications of broad name recognition. Over ninety percent of respondents recognized the name Don. And nearly half as many knew someone with the last name of Lewis. (Margin of error: plus or minus 50 percent.)

And thanks to our blood plasma sales fundraiser, we still have close to 35 dollars in the campaign war chest.

While Obama and McCain continue to fall in the polls relative to my own meteoric or cometic rise as the case may be, I do feel it necessary to address the rather laughable campaign of one John B. Nobody.

John B. Nobody

(I don't trust him. He's got shifty eyes.)

I was made aware of this Nobody's campaign after receiving several disturbing notes from LOBO, my occasional nemesis and apparently Mr. Nobody's running mate.

Knowing little about this Nobody, I decided to Google him. The following are some of the shocking headlines and news stories I found

Girl’s Death Is `Nobody's Fault’
Los Angeles Times, July 01 2006

New year death 'Nobody's fault'
BBC, 16 OCT 2008

When is it Nobody’s Fault?
Jan 7, 2008 Overlawered blog.

"The fact is that sometimes bad things happen
in hospitals which are Nobody’s fault."

"Nobody lies to Google"
Meadows-Klue on Media Oct 31. 2005

Nobody Died When Clinton Lied
(Is it possible we are now dealing with an impostor?)

Golisano Cites an Old Scandal
- New York Times
"Nobody was convicted of selling paroles...

Japanese Whaling in Sanctuary is ILLEGAL
Greenpeace ...
"In 30 years and over 200 off-shore voyages Nobody was convicted."

Lewinsky's Leap From 'Nobody' To News
01-22-98 CNN

John Edwards and the Scandal Nobody Wanted
- Political Machine Jul 29, 2008 news.aol.com
"... But nobody wants to touch it..."

Apparently some believe that Nobody is above the law. Let's show them that they are wrong. Vote for somebody. Vote for me.

--------------------------

My Debate with Nobody can be seen (soonish) at Radioactive Libert y. Don't worry. Even debating Nobody, I'll still be entertaining.

Taking a LEAP

2008-10-15T21:08:00.000-07:00

Good day my fellow Americans. (And long-term visitors from sunny climes.)

Having resumed my campaign, I want to take this opportunity to address the nation about our current financial troubles. As you are aware, Congress, initially bravely holding out against the insanity of massive deficit spending to the tune of 700 billion dollars finally agreed to a compromise proposal that only added an additional 150 billion dollars of vital economic stimulus expenditures like the Barney Frank Peace and Justice Bathhouse and the Strategic Congressional Re-election Reserve.

Congressman Barney Frank, coming to grips with a deficit.

However, it is entirely unfair to try to blame this boondoggle on the Congress or the White House. As I noted previously, the poor bear most of the responsibility for the coming world-wide depression by actually believing the government.

And banks and mortgage companies must also be held accountable.

Sure, the banks were told that if they didn't make loans to people without last names they would be investigated to within an inch of their fiduciaries, and yes, they were also told that they could then sell any non-compliant loans to government backed mortgage consolidators with names from Petticoat Junction, but honestly, I know I'd turn down a sure thing in exchange for an anal exam by Janet Reno any day.

And I bet you would too.

However, creating a bail-out scheme revolving around giving great gobs of non-existent money to the same people who were at least co-conspirators in this whole mess does seem a bit icky.

That's why I am proposing the Lewis Economic Accountability Plan (LEAP). Rather than sending trillions of dollars to banks and brokerage firms, LEAP would create a true economic stimulus by giving every American 100 million dollars. The total outlay by the Government would be somewhere in the neighborhood of ah... carry the one... (about a block and a half) - thirty quadrillion dollars, or for the reading impaired:

$30,000,000,000,000,000.98

Now I know a lot of you are saying, "Come on Don! The US doesn't have that kind of money!" Well, technically that's true. But ask yourself this. Where did the 850 billion we've just spent come from? That's right! It came from a IBM PC at the Federal Reserve that has a sticky zero key! All the Fed has to do is wait to pry the key up after just six more zeros, and the money is as good as in your cookie jar.

Naturally, we don't actually have that kind of money sitting around in currency. And at the current rate of printing at the BEP, (Union workers after all.) it would take about three thousand years, just in twenties alone. But fortunately a solution already exists.

Monopoly Money!

Under my LEAP, each American is authorized to add six zeros to 100 Monopoly dollars. I know we can trust you all to stop at one hundred.

The use of Monopoly Money is designed to
cut down on the possibility of counterfeiting.

But what about inflation you ask?

Here's where my plan gets totally brilliant! Taking a page from Richard Nixon, I, as your President would immediately declare a total nation-wide price freeze! In fact, not only would I freeze prices, I'd roll them back to the summer of 1975! (This date was not chosen randomly, but was actually picked as being the high point of my life.)

There are still a few niggling details to iron out, like how to make change on a million dollar bill for a nine dollar case of beer. (It really was the best of times, wasn't it?) But consider; any random group of Americans could pay off the US-Chinese debt with pocket change and still have enough money left over to buy Michigan.

Hmm. Come to think of it, I'm going to roll back the music to 1975 too. Radar Love anyone?

-----------

Special thanks to my latest unrequited love interest, Jamie at The Hussy Housewife for nagging at me to get off my lazy ass and write something. Tomorrow, I will address my only true competition for the Presidency. But not to worry. He's a Nobody.

Yet another Interlude.

2008-10-06T07:05:00.000-07:00

Well Gang, I'm off to Oregon for a few days. Back on Wednesday. Don't wait up. I'm suspending my Campaign until then. I figure this is a good plan. Look what it did for McCain.

Cheers,

Don

A modest Proposal

2008-09-27T22:20:00.000-07:00

Obviously it's time for me, as the Candidate of Last Resort and as a noted financial and economic expert, to speak to you, the Nation, about this whole credit and bank thingy.

Everyone is pointing fingers, trying desperately to pass the buck. The Democrats say it's Bushs' fault. The Republicans are blaming it on the Democrats. McCain seems to suspect the North Vietnamese and Obama is looking suspiciously at bitter clingers like Palin. And everyone hates Wall Street: even Wall Street.

But ask yourself this question. What one group, what one special interest has managed so far to escape the scrutiny that could reveal all?

Of Course, I'm referring to "The Poor".

I know what you're thinking. "Don" you say, "You've got to get back on your meds. The Poor just don't have the political and economic clout necessary to cause the melt down of the greatest fun-house mirror economy of all times!"

That my fellow Americans is just what they want you to think.

Oh sure the poor look wretched. Yes they have the fashion sense of weevils and they smell bad. Good Lord! It makes me nauseous even having to use the toe of my boot to kick them to the gutter as I pass them on the street!

So how can I make the case that the poor are ultimately responsible for forcing the rest of us to have to endure hours of pudgy sweating bureaucrats steaming up our flat screens?

Let's look at the facts.

When the Government of the United States decided that affordable housing was a universal right, like digital TV and medicinal heroin, it was never their intention to extend that concept to the poor. That would be crazy! I mean, they'd be living right next door!

Inter-economical dating would surely follow.

No. It's one thing to help a down-on-his-luck lemur get no-down financing on a split level ranch in the Simi Valley. After all, steady employment at the pharmaceutical labs is a given for our simian companions.

But the Poor opportunistically jumped in, taking unfair advantage of a loop-hole by claiming a broad genetic hominid relationship.

So. What can be done about this? As your President, I will use my emergency powers to set the might of US Industry to solving this thorny problem. I will authorize the destruction of whole national forests to make the pulp necessary for the creation of millions of refrigerator boxes. I will increase the Strategic Muscatel Reserve by millions of barrels. Then, using tactics developed during the settling of our great nation, I will post advertisements on national television during shows like "My name is Earl" to inform the Poor that the Government has made a "Reservation" for them at a vacation retreat near Senator Reed's place in Nevada. Thus returning the natural balance. The resulting empty houses will be fumigated and re-sold to humans.

Thank you America. And good night.

By the way. I ran across a really good humor blog the other night. It's called "My Suburban can run over your Minivan....and will". At first you will think it's just another Mommy Blog. But look deeper. Can't you just sense the underlying madness? I can. And It's funny too. Give it a try. Another fine humor blogger from Idaho.

All's Faire

2008-09-23T19:57:00.000-07:00

Just got back from my Renaissance Faire. Actually, it's not mine. It belongs to someone else. I just run it while it's on the ground.

Hmmm? A Renaissance Faire? Well. It's a bit like a craft fair. And a Grateful Dead concert. And a fairy ring. Or the path to heaven or the road to hell. Or the one in between. Or nothing like any of those. I've been intimately associated with this particular Ren Faire, the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire in Oregon for the past 15 years. It occurs on the second weekend of September in the aptly named Kings Valley.

Ren Faires come in all sizes. I've got a booth in the Kansas City Renaissance Faire which runs for seven weekends right about now and sees a couple of hundred thousand visitors. And the Shrewsbury, well the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire is only a single weekend, but we get about 20,000 visitors during that time.

What do I do there? Hmmm again. I guess you could think of me as the Mayor. Not the Lord Mayor, who is played by a friend and fine actor during the hours of 10AM to 6PM Saturday and Sunday. You won't recognize me as any kind of nobility or gentry when you wander the Shrewsbury. Heaven forbid. Should you actually catch a glimpse of me, you will see a rather raggedly looking Irishman in a dirty yellow linnea (sort of an old-time Irish night shirt worn by both sexes.) I will also probably have a radio jammed into my ear, and I will often be muttering.

If you are knowledgeable of the various types of possible municipal governments, you will recognize the concepts of a strong Mayor or a weak Mayor. I am neither. I am a tolerated Mayor. Everyone recognizes the need for someone to be the focus of malice, but no one really wants the job. That's where I come in.

I've been trying to give up the job for the past thirteen years. It's not easy to con...convince anyone to take it from me. The job description is what makes it tough.

Imagine that you are the mayor of a town of 1000 people for roughly five or six days. OK so far. But nearly every one of the town folk positively knows that they can do the job better than you, (Possibly true.) but can't be bothered doing so. Now add to the fact that most if not all of those 1000 people are artists. Brrrr... Then for two days during your week-long tenure as mayor, the population of the town swells to 21,000.

Since we are out in the middle of a field, you as Mayor are ultimately responsible for making sure the sewers (porta-pottys), water (6000 gallon water tanker with refill on Sunday morning.) Food (vendors and participant support), Site safety (The Reaves), Trash (bins and wheelies) roads, stages, arena, jousters, vendors, performers. and a hundred other things actually arrive, are placed right, serviced, repaired, and maintained. You are also the final arbiter of any of the one hundred personal problems that happen when you put 1000 artists together is what is essentially a hay field for a week.

I don't mean to say that I do all of these things myself. Far from it. The Faire Staff is great and doesn't even need me around for most of it. But if something goes wrong...well thats when I do my thing.

I don't panic.

That's about it.

I'm am very skilled at my job. I can lie. I was going to add "with a straight face", but actually I can arrange my face while lying to suit all possible conditions. If it calls for a jovial whopper or a conspiratorial fib, I'm the guy. What do I lie about? Mostly about having an answer to whatever the problem is.

I think most everyone knows that I don't know what I'm talking about. But they're just happy enough that someone else will make the decision that it doesn't really matter what the decision is. The other part of the job is to modestly accept the credit when one of your wild-ass decisions work. Actually they often work. This is not a factor of uncanny accuracy or supernatural management skills, it's more often an indication that any number of possible solutions would have worked. (But don't tell anyone that. Just nod knowingly and go get a beer.)

Below are as number, but by no means a complete selection, of some of the people I love at Faire. These folks are very much family to me. You'll note that most of the photos show people NOT in costume. That's because I rarely ever seem to take any pictures during the operational hours of Faire.

A Cast of Characters (Names changed just for my own pleasure.)

This is "Reaper" the second in command of the Reaves. They are the town constabulary. The big smile is there because it's Monday after Faire and he can finally relax. Like many men, he has trouble keeping his meals from sticking to his beard. Reaper owns a business making quality kilts. Check it out

This is Reapers boss, Der Graf Otto. He's the head of the Reaves. He injured his leg while involved in some kind of daring assault on a bit of home furnishing. Or so he says. I suspect gout. Here's what he looks like when he's pretty.

This piratical looking fellow is Knute Hosenfeffer, the leader of the Mongers. The Mongers are a consortium of blacksmiths, founders, dry-gulchers, and moon-shiners. Trust them with your life, but not your women.

Here we see Gomez. Gomez is an artist, a mystic, and a sojourner. However, his real purpose in life is to be the obedient worshiper and acolyte to "She who must be obeyed":

Morticia, She who rules the night. My old Faire closing buddy. With rare exceptions, the last person standing in the wee hours.

Next we have The soon to be Mrs. MacGyver. She runs the Muggers, an organization of folks who exist as participant support. I name her Mrs. MacGyver, because she is soon to marry (This November.) her long-time sweetie MacGyver, the Faire's unofficial official fix-it guy.

Also in the "Must be obeyed" category is Jimi. Technically, she is the Assistant Site Director, which theoretically means she works for me. I usually just spend all my time staring at her as she tells me what to do.

In the same category is Madonna. She works all year keeping track of, and managing the Maintenance of, well...everything. Then she relaxes during Faire by acting as cushions for Senior Faire Staff.

This is "Tank". He in THE Artyfactor. For many years, he and his crew have taken empty fields and built temporary renaissance villages on them. We finally convinced him to do it in a field where it is wanted.

Finally, there is "The Reverend"

He is, for 360 days of the year, the Chief of the greatest band of scoundrels, highwaymen and suspect-able wenches (Obviously they're Irish.) it has ever been my honor to associate with. The other five days of the year, during Faire, the Clan snickers and calls me Chief. I was once asked if the "The Reverend" was my brother. I said yes then and I meant it.

So there are a few of my friends from the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire. One of my greatest friends is the Shrew herself. She owns the thing. But she would kill me if I posted a picture of her and as I love her and her Faire...

I could have posted many other pictures. There are so many there I love. And once a year I get the chance to gather together with a thousand of them.

All family to me.

It's never going to be sweeter than that.

Stop by some time. Make some friends. And feel the magic.

Thanks for the Help

2008-09-18T22:05:00.000-07:00

Well I've nearly got the dust out of my lungs and the swelling of my eyes is finally decreasing.

As previously mentioned, I just finished up my annual stint at the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire in Kings Valley, Oregon.

While I was away I was fortunate enough to have my blog kept alive by three of the funniest bloggers I know.

Before I start my own writing up again, I want to take the time to thank:

Chris Cameron of Angry Seafood for providing my multinational corporation, DONCO Inc. with a new series of products sure to help us maintain our position as a world leader in whoopee cushion technology.

Brent Diggs, late of The Ominous Comma and Danger Couch who tried mightily to pump up another of my concerns, Don Lewis Designs. (Which is temporarily closed due to my frantically sending all of my stock to various fairs and festivals in search of the elusive living.)

LOBO, one of the many authors who share head space at Predator Press, who, in trying for a bit of reverse engineering, also endeavored to help out my bottom line.

As you can see, I had a stellar team of high-end humor bloggers, all trying to "pump" my businesses. This wasn't planned as I did not allow any of them to read the others work prior to my posting their submissions.

I think we can all agree that this can only mean one thing, to wit:

Don. Get a job.

Thanks again guys for filling in for me. You really are the best, both in writing and helping out a fellow blogger. Now, get back to work.

Tomorrow, I will present a look at this crazy thing called "Renaissance Faire". And I will expose the seamy underbelly of tight-wearing men and the compressed and over-spilling women who love them.

Till then.

TA

Guest-Posting Without a Net. Part 3. LOBO at Predator Press

2008-09-15T18:00:00.000-07:00

IDAHO IN DA HOUSE

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Previous attempts to infiltrate DONCO Headquarters have all been thwarted.

"Who are you sir," said the DONCO security guard. "And where do you think you're going with those cinderblocks and pointy sticks? You'll deflate the empire!"

"You don't need to see my identification," I says, coolly waving my hand.

"I don't need to see your identification?"

"These aren't the droids you're looking for."

"Sir," says the guard. "The Jedi Mind Trick only works on the weak minded."

"The Jedi Mind Trick only works on the weak minded," I repeat.

"Now go on about your business," he says.

***

I woke up at Denny's.

-And someone had stolen my cinderblocks and pointy sticks!

Maybe I'm going about this all wrong, I'm thinking. I mean I have been wrong before.

"No I haven't," I point out.

Wait. Is this Greg? I'm scheduled for an inner-dialogue with Greg here..

"No. This is LOBO."

Well why so glum LOBO? What seems to be the problem?

"What's seems to be the problem!?" I demand. "The problem is I really, really want to kill Don with cinderblocks and pointy sticks. And that bastard is making it so difficult!" Audibly, I exhale. "Who knows what diabolical acts he is performing in there at this very moment!?"

"Sir," says the waiter. "Who are you talking to?"

His name tag says Greg.

"Uh, nobody," I says. "Gimmee five cups of coffee."

"You mean a cup of coffee and four refills?"

"No. I mean five cups of coffee. That way I've done you a favor by not making you come back and forth five times."

"Five cups of coffee," Greg repeats while scribbling into his pad.

"But I need some advice Greg," I says. "And seeing as how you do owe me a favor ..."

"Anything pal," says Greg, swinging into the booth.

"If you wanted to kill someone, and they were relentlessly making it a huge pain in the keyster-"

"You mean like my boss?"

"Greg, you know I hate it when you interrupt me."

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Anyways, yeah. Like your boss. Except this guy is even more evil. I mean calling your boss 'evil' compared to this guy is like calling a zit on your privates an 'organic and natural French tickler' evil. Who knows what atrocities this guy might be creating at this very moment!?"

"Greg!" yells an angry man from the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"He's with me sir," I assure him. "We were just discussing how Greg would kill you given the opportunity."

"Really?" says Greg's boss. Removing the apron and folding it neatly as he walks, he swings into the booth next to me. "You know, I always figured Greg to be the guy to put the mop handle through the walk-in freezer latch while I'm in there."

"No," says Greg. "Someone would find you before you were dead."

"Well either way, I don't see you doing anything 'hands on'."

"What are you trying to say?" asks Greg.

"Look kid," says Greg's boss. "You just don't strike me as somebody with the kind of stomach it would take to kill someone face-to-face."

"But the only reason I even work here anymore is so I can kill you with my own two hands!"

"Wait!" I stop them. "Greg, is that true? The only reason you work here is to get close enough to your boss to kill him?"

Greg's boss laughs. "Well it ain't the tips."

"Greg that's brilliant! Maybe I should be really nice to Don.. You know, tell him stuff like how I think his blog is the best blog out there, and that he's one of the funniest guys on the planet."

"Then kill him with cinderblocks and pointy sticks!" says Greg excitedly.

"Precisely," I says standing. "Gentlemen, I cannot thank you enough."

Greg looks sad. "You don't want your five coffees?"

"No Greg," I says, sliding on my coat.

"I have a guest post to write."

(The preceding post was lovingly prepared by my good friend and fellow adventurer, LOBO at Predator Press. Having studied his body of work extensively, I think I can say with some authority that Nyquil played a prominent part in this opus. His Benadryl pieces are usually more evocative.)

Guest-Posting Wthout a Net. Part 2. Brent Diggs

2008-09-12T20:00:00.000-07:00

Temporal Security

As a concerned citizen of the world, you are no doubt aware of the many threats posed by the advent of time travel.*

Thanks to the diligent efforts of Hollywood, even the most scientifically illiterate individuals are well versed in the some of the top dangers set to emanate from the future: angry cyborgs, alien ninjas, and lazy college students looking for a little less history to study.**

Every survivalist worth his or her sodium content is now ready for such potential onslaughts, but what separates the dedicated from the dilettante and the professional from the peon is this:

How well are you prepared to handle threats from the past?

That's right, the past.

You see, the most insidious thing about time travel, among a long and highly competitive list of evils, is that you never know when exactly in the timestream it's going to turn up or from whence it will have arrived.***

For example what if a surly Viking warrior were to appear upon on your doorstep, would you be adequately prepared to toast his health?

What about a medieval knight, or a Mongol horde, or even Al Capone?****

How do you think these well armed and highly temperamental historical figures would handle such an indignity?

Would they participate in mediation? Go with you to group therapy? Register a grievance with the local henchmen's union?

Or would a more likely response would be the sudden infusion of lead, steel, or possibly bronze into your personal anatomy?

"A toast to Aldric the Reddish-Orange, let us raise our polycarbonate, dishwasher-safe tumblers and -Arrrrrgggggghhslshhh!"

You could, of course, avoid all such unpleasantness with a proper assortment of wooden drinking vessels.

That is why temporal security consultants everywhere recommend Don Lewis Designs as their renaissance vessel supplier of choice, because Don Lewis make the finest, aesthetically pleasing, most Viking resistant wooden drinking goblets on the face of the planet.

If you love your family and value your continued respiration, you owe it to yourself to visit Don Lewis Designs today.

-----

* Although Time Travel Technology (T3) has not been advented in this timeline, it's discovery in any future, past, or alternate present is a danger to all of us, everywhen.

**I am referring of course to Terminator, Alien Sorority Ninjas of Death, and Bill and Ted Go To College, respectively. If your specific history/presentry does not include any of these cultural treasures, it is a sure sign of temporal tampering.

***The necessity of using Shakespearian grammar to describe the complex chronology of time travel is either ironic, or a sure sign that old Bill was doing some time-hopping of his own.

****After years of drinking from boots and bathtubs, I'm sure Capone would be happy drink from any vessel that had not previously housed human anatomy.

(The preceding public service announcement was provided by Brent Diggs of The Ominous Comma and Danger Couch fame. Brent is currently on hiatus from humor blogging while doctors search frantically for a cure. Please give generously. If not for him....Then do it for his children.)

Guest-Posting Without a Net. Part 1. Angry Seafood

2008-09-10T20:00:00.000-07:00

Exclusive Angry Seafood Product Line Now At DONCO

A.S.S. Ltd., the retailer behind Angry Seafood is proud to announce they have signed an exclusive agreement with DONCO to license their line of products.

One thing A.S.S Ltd. is known for is the Feel Better line of self-help products specifically designed for people with low self-esteem.

Feel Better Rubik's Cube

While people solve the thing in mere seconds, most of us got two colors done then left the thing in the closet until we sold them twenty years later on EBay. Now, thanks to DONCO and Angry Seafood anyone can easily solve that evil cube, giving even a stripper with a father and a step-father who missed her childhood dance recitals a boost in the old self-esteem department.

Feel Better Crossword Puzzles Volume I

Tired of seeing old people whip through a crossword puzzle faster then Amy Whinehouse goes through crack? With this exclusive book you will become the sensei of the crossword and the envy of your social circle. With so much new-found self esteem your life will be changed and no longer will you be hanging out at nursing homes.

But the Angry Seafood product lines include much more then self-help products. A.S.S. Ltd. has some other interesting niche items for any occasion.

Elvis Presley Commemorative Toilet Seat

You'll sing like the King on your very own Elvis Presley Commemorative Toilet Seat. Available in white and light brown the guitar seat actually plays music! (Strings not included). Makes a perfect holiday gift for that Graceland lover on your Christmas list.

The MeGPhone

A.S.S. Ltd's exclusive version of the Motorola MegPhone can now be yours thanks to DONCO. Not on is the MegPhone packed with excessive amounts of features you will never use but it also comes with the new "Push to Yell" technology. Great for a crowded room.

The 2008 Guide to Congressional Achievements

Previously on the New York Times Bestseller list, the 2008 Guide to Congressional Achievements lists in great detail all the not-very impressive results of the thousands of pages of Congressional legislation. From congratulating college sports teams on winning championships to adjourning for the Summer amid $4.00 a gallon gasoline, you can relive all the underachieving our politicians did in the year of the coming of our Lord Obama.

This is just a sample of the many fine products A.S.S. Ltd. will be bringing to DONCO and consumers world-wide just in time for the important holiday retail season. We hope you find years of enjoyment in our exclusive offerings.

A.S.S. Ltd.- "Wait until you see what's on the inside"

If you liked this guest post by Chris Cameron you can read more at his original humor blog, Angry Seafood.

The Tough Choice

2008-09-08T19:15:00.000-07:00

I am no fool (Regardless of what the polls say.)

The Sarah Palin thing has shown me the light and must obviously influence my choice for a VP candidate. Apparently grizzly-skinning ex-beauty queens are in.

So I have been working hard to narrow my short list of Vice Presidential choices to women. But not just any old woman. My Vice President must exemplify the highest virtues possible, i.e. she must distract the nation and the press from my own limitations as a commander and chief.

I've pretty much whittled it down to four potential running mates:

Margaret Thatcher
World Leader

Pluses:
The "Iron Lady" still sends thrilling ripples of fear through the pooftah loins of members of the British Left.

Understands well the intricacies of a "Power Tea".

Lots of foreign policy experience. Fully capable of launching total war to retain control of a small group of barren, sheep-infested islands.

Minuses:
Is not, per se, an American citizen. However, according to several reputable extreme right-wing blogs, this can be easily corrected with a Hawaiian birth certificate.

Apparently is suffering from dementia. (This may not actually be a detriment. My campaign strategy depends pretty heavily on the deranged demographic. And if I choose her we can confidently declare that the demented will have two advocates in the White House.)

-----------------------------------------

Martha Stewart
Home-making Doyen
and ex-con

Pluses:
A proven business expert with "hands-on" judicial and penal experience.

Can make peroski.

Minuses:
Will be constantly redecorating the White House.

Can't lie worth a damn.

---------------------------------

Jayde Nicole
2008 Playmate of the Year

Pluses:
Inexpensive wardrobe requirements.

Creative Speller.

Will most certainly be called upon to break many tie votes in the Senate.

Minuses:
Mrs. Lewis

------------------------------------------

Finally of course, it behooves us to consider how well John McCain did in both keeping his running-mate a secret and in making such a non-conventional choice.

Thus I present the mystery candidate. A person with foreign affairs aplenty. Noted for hunting, fishing, and waking up from benders in exotic locales with interesting people.

Pluses:
With this running mate, I can comfortably leave the Country and campaign in Cancun. The press won't even miss me.

Minuses:
As I said above. I am no fool.

mystery woman

(Just a reminder. I'm off to the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire in Philomath Oregon for the next week. I have a full slate of wonderful guest-bloggers lined up starting Wednesday. So stay tuned and see you all next week.)

Interlude

2008-08-31T22:59:00.000-07:00

Sorry about being so long between posts all. I haven't given up on trying to bring a few tears of joy to the masses of the "little people" as I so often call so many of you in places where you can't hear me.

It's just that this is the apex of my business year. This weekend was the start of this year's Kansas City Renaissance Faire and for the next seven weekends, thousands of people will be passing by my booth there. It seems like a good idea in a general sort of way to have some things on the shelves to cause them to pause, perform that internal monologue that brings a small skip of joy to your average vendor, and come in and exchange some of their rent money for one of my wooden beer cups.

So I have been putting in 16 hour days for the last three weeks. And it's beginning to tell on me.

By itself, The KC Ren Faire wouldn't stop me from writing. But on September 10th, I will hit the road at 4AM for a nine hour drive to Oregon, where I will continue, as I have for the last 13 years, to fool a large number of people into thinking I am in charge of the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire.

Although the SRF only runs a single weekend, I need to be there on the Wednesday before because there simply aren't enough hours in a weekend to drink all the beer needed to run a Faire.

So please forgive me if I'm a bit sparse in writing for the next couple of weeks. Fortunately, I have managed to secure the services of several notable humor bloggers to guest blog for me while I'm away for the few days before and after the weekend of September 13th and 14th.

Meanwhile, the race for the Presidency will go on. I am still working on my VP choice. You may rest assured that whoever I chose will be the kind of person who will make my assassination undesirable.

The PU Convention

2008-08-26T22:04:00.000-07:00

Now live from beautiful Fewmit, North Idaho.

It's the:

Plaid Union Party Presidential Nominating Convention!

Good evening America, this is Harvey Tippleflipper with the HBC Network bringing you all the pageantry of the PU Presidential Convention.

And I'm Buzz Haberdasher. It's a beautiful day here in Fewmit as the delegate(s) arrive for the convention. Harv, what's planned for the opening ceremony?

Well Buzz, We are here at the beautifully restored Fewmit grain silo and convention center where minutes ago, the convention was officially gaveled open.

It only took three whacks to force the door. Now delegate(s) from all over the County are pouring in to watch the colorful opening ceremony before the main event - the roll call vote to nominate Don Lewis as the official PU party Presidential Candidate.

That's right Buzz. The convention stated off with the traditional faith-based demonstration. Gospel tunes were sung by the Flaming Sisters of St. Castrado. A local favorite.

No kidding Harv. When these nuns hit those high notes, it sends a shiver right through my coccyx.

As well it should Buzz. The gay music was followed by an invocation from the PU parties official chaplain, Doctor Highly Solastic.

Let's talk a bit about the convention center Harv. Security is much tighter than at previous conventions isn't it?

Too true Buzz. If you recall, during the last convention delegates were subjected to massive short-sheeting, terror-wedgies and cotton weevils. But with new check-in procedures,

and the latest in high tech security wrist bands,

the PU Party Officials believe these problems of the past can be minimized.

So Harv. What's on today's agenda?

Buzz, Originally we were going to get a Key-Note speech by the candidates' wife, Mrs. Lewis. But at the last moment, she slipped out of her security band. So The Candidate himself will be taking the podium.

Well, that's all for now. Tomorrow, we will be taking an in-depth look at the potential running mates for Candidate Lewis, prior to Friday's announcement and the roll call vote.

This has been Buzz Haberdasher and Harvey Tippleflipper for HBC at the PU Party Convention. Now back to the studio.

Living in a Material World

2008-08-23T22:00:00.000-07:00

Today we get the news that Madonna, the 50 year old virgin, is hitting the road again in a world tour. Apparently the Big Foot discovery turned out to be a hoax and when that exhibition fell through, she saw an opportunity.

Demonstrating the usual concern for the environment shown by all the big green headliners, she will be jetting all over the world hauling 16 dancers, 3500 separate changes of clothing and her own freezers to supply ice for her poor dancer's feet.

I don't plan to say much more than this but I did want to make note of something.

They say that the human sense with the strongest ability to trigger old memories is smell.

Since I've never had the chance to smell Madonna, that would do me no good in this case. (But I am grateful.) However, the following photo took me right back to my high school days.

And brought back to mind my old biology classes.

Have a great rest of the weekend all.

The High Road

2008-08-19T21:53:00.000-07:00

It seems recently that the presidential race has taken a turn towards the negative. I find this sad. We, the major candidates,

Republican, Democrat, and Plaid,

have a responsibility to honestly present our positions in the spirit of what is in the best interest of the Nation rather than out own petty desires for power.

Regardless of what my opponents do, I pledge to you, my faithful followers (seven now and growing like a weed!) that I will always take the high road. The name calling and character assassinations performed by the other candidates:

Barack Obama

And John ~~Edwards~~ McCain

Will never be a part of my run for the highest office in the land.

Don't forget to swing on by:

For more high minded writings of great import.

A Grateful Nation thanks you.

It's the boozeTalking

2008-08-17T22:24:00.000-07:00

I'm going free-style blogging tonight. This is incredibly dangerous and should not be attempted by anyone not wholly experienced in blogging nor without at least five beers under their belt. Both of which attributes I now possess. (Thank God for spell checkers.)

My kids met a wonderful bunch of kids down at Hayden State Park (About a mile or so from my place.) on Lake Coeur d' Alene yesterday and their parents invited us to come and spend the evening at their campsite.

Fortunately, they had a ready supply of beer.

So I am now at home, and I decided in a moment of weakness to actually write a blog directly into blogger without paying the slightest attention to what I am saying.

Hope this works. If I close one eye, I no longer see double.

First off, I have received yet another award.

Crochety Old Man Yells At Cars has given me the coveted

Amy Opps Award for humor blogger excellence.

For those of you who are actually paying attention, you might have noticed that not only have I already received this award before, (acknowledged in the last post) but that I was give this signal honor by....

Crochety Old Man Yells At Cars

Which to me is a sure indication that we need to end Medicare immediately.

(How'm I doing so far? Pretty amazing considering that I keep forgetting where the space key is huh?)

I have further decided to end this post with a bunch of random photos that will give you a glimpse into my life.

This may take a while as it requires me to figure out anew how to upload pictures. So now would be an excellent time to visit:

Where ChelleB, in a moment of (I assure you and my wife) unrequited desire, has decided to attempt to seduce me by making me an administrator.

Despite her poor skills in choosing competent managerial personnel, this is THE place to find the best in internet comedy. (She at least had the sense to limit my participation to serving drinks and being the resident male eye-candy.)

Now, on with the random pictures.

The Author and his main squeeze before he went bad.

An example of his bull.

My "Number One" at the Shrewbury Renaissance Faire.
She wants me, but I'm playing hard to get.

What knockers!

The oil drain plug for a 1948 8N ford tractor.
(You never know, might be the answer to a quiz program
that will make you rich.)

I have no idea how this ended up on my computer.

The most dangerous man in America.

Still looking to add you to the dark side. So click here:

Subscribe in a reader

A Picture of Me...Naked.

2008-08-13T20:29:00.000-07:00

Alright! I'm finally getting back to normal.

I still tend to black out occasionally, but only when I exert myself, like now when I have to push down on these keys.............................................and I remain numb up to the arm pits. It's good to be back at 100 percent.

Also, sorry to everyone for my lack of commentary responses. The cold seemed to have caused a temporary tourette syndrome and I couldn't take a chance.

Today I would like to catch up on a little blog-keeping. I have received a couple of awards that I really ought to acknowledge since they were given to me by a couple of my favorite humor bloggers. So in order of my previously ignoring them, I will begin with:

Crochety Old Man Yells At Cars who in a senior moment, presented me with the fabulous Amy Opps Award for something or another. The award itself comes from Amy Opps. After an exhaustive 30 second search of her site, I still can find nothing that tells me what the award is truly about. It could be blog color coordination or possibly creative punctuation.

Nevertheless, I accept with all the humbleness of which I am capable.

COMYAC, which as an acronym would be a great stock market listing for one of those sub-prime mortgage lenders now in receivership, describes himself (which is fortunate because I feel another tourette episode coming on) as:

"I'm a crotchety old guy who enjoys ranting and raving about the injustices of the world. While many of my rants are political in nature, I can complain about almost anything. If I were a cartoon character, I'd be Grandpa Simpson or an elderly Eric Cartman."

But don't let that bit of prose fool you. He is usually quite funny.

(Serous note: COMYAC is very funny and a regular part of my humor blog daily reading. I recommend him highly.)

I believe I am supposed to pass this along to 5 other bloggers. Since I remain unsure of its meaning, I'll just spread the love to some of my favorites.

The Predator Press, because so far as I know, LOBO doesn't have one of these, and I love to ratchet up his paranoia by being nice to him for no reason.

Deb on the Rocks because I have a serious crush on her. And we share so many interests. Or at least one.

Atlas Shrugged (AKA Traci Skene) because I have a serious crush on her too.

Naked in Eden (AKA Rain Forest Robin) because I also have a serious crush on her.

The Offended Blogger because she scares me. (Which is often more exciting than a crush.)

I also received an award from the inimitable Lord Likely. His Lordship has been so kind as to present me with his:

The Golden Cock of Excellence!

With his Lordships gracious, and no doubt sardonic permission, this rude and puritanical colonial has modified his Lordships' award for display on my less adult oriented blog.

For those who wish to see Lord Likelys' Golden Cock in all its original glory, you may go here. Just a bit of warning though. Lord Likely's blog is incredibly funny and full of adventure. It is however not for the faint of heart or for those who consider Jane Austin to be a bit too "racy". So it this describes you, I know you won't click the above.

I'll just wait here shall I?

(Hmm ha hmm, ta da dee da....)

Oh yes, one final thing. I'm getting a bit of a jump on it, as the official opening isn't till August 15th, but why wait?

I have been selected as a member of the newest and most exclusive listing of funny bloggers on the internet!

Humorbloggers.com

This fully functional collection of great blog humorists is the creation of ChelleB of The Offended Blogger fame. She has hand-selected 50 of the best humor bloggers for her new site.

(Originally, it was just going to be her and I. The poor girl is rather smitten with me. Apparently she came across a picture taken of me for a woman's magazine a few years ago.)

But I pleaded with her to include a few others, and well...she's putty in my hands.

SO be sure to check it out. It's a great way to tickle your funny bones.

Finally.

As many of you no doubt recall fondly, I used to beg and whine you to tap on the humor-blogs.com button to keep my standing up there. However, with the new system, only members can now vote for a blog, so unless you were to join, it would do you no good. (Or me either.)

So instead, I'm going to cast what little remaining self-respect I have to the winds and instead ask you to click on the conveniently located feedburner buttons and add me to your feed.

Subscribe in a reader

As an inducement, if you do so, I will gladly send you an autographed copy of the picture above.

If you decide not to do so, I will, in retaliation, send you an autographed copy of the picture above.

Choose wisely.

Affairs of State

2008-08-10T19:02:00.000-07:00

A Commentary from the Plaid Union Party
Presidential Nominee Don Lewis

Now that I am the leading northern Idaho Candidate for the Presidency, it is incumbent upon me to speak out about the failings of other national leaders. (I don't know if its required per se, but it beats having to define my positions.)

So today, despite the ravages of the cold from hell and a lung-coating crust of effluence that makes my breathing sound like a bong in need of a water change, I find it necessary to bring up the shameful behavior of John Edwards.

As you are all no doubt aware, John Edwards, the ex-Senator from North Carolina has recently admitted to an extra-marital affair with Rielle Hunter.

Putting aside for the moment the damage done to his family, it is of even greater importance to recognize his failings with regards to the larger picture of American Security and our standing on the World stage:

If this was an isolated incident, it would be bad enough. But it isn't. Time and again we are forced to accept the ridicule and scorn of other nations as a result of the poor choices made by so many of the high and mighty who lead our Country.

The list is, unfortunately, extensive:

Ex-President Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky

Ex-Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich and Calista Bisek.

Rep. Henry Hyde and Cherie Soskin

and recently

Rep. Vito J. Fossella and Laura Fay.

And the list goes on and on.

Our elected leaders, selected to be "The Best and Brightest" of us all; those whom we chose to make life and death decisions; continue to let us down. Almost without exception we see them showing the same poor judgment, the same lack of common sense that results in the other Nations of the earth looking upon us with disdain.

And the same question arises each time in the minds of every right thinking American!

Can't one of these guys hook up with a babe???!!!

For crying out loud! You guys are supposed to be the leaders of the Free World! You don't even have to buy your own gas! But you keep on "playing house" with women who should be the natural recipients of State Dinner doggie bags!

Geez! Some of you even have wives who are better looking than you mistresses.

This is incredibly embarrassing. OK. I'll admit that we're not talking star-quality good looks for a lot of these guys. Yes, McCain looks like a Toltec head and Bill Clinton is the Pillsbury Dough Boy from Hope. And Gingrich could double for the gopher from "Caddy Shack".

But Henry Kissinger looked like Peter Sellers on a cortisone high and still managed to trip the light fantastic with Candice Bergen, Samantha Eggar and Jill St. John. And he did all that while sounding like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a Darth Vader mask!

Limos; fact-finding junkets; rides in Air Force One: the nuclear football for Gods sake! And the best you can do is a hook-up that looks like a chance meeting at Weight Watchers?

No more.

It's time we Americans insist that our leaders "liaison" with women we can at least lust after ourselves.

That is why, when you elect me as you President, I firmly commit to dalliance only with women who at a minimum would be acceptable on the Playboy "Women Next Door" website. I further pledge that all White House interns will have. at the very least. a belly button piercing and a title with the words "oil-wrestling" somewhere in it.

I think too much of you, the American public, to do any less.

I Whine When I'm Sick

2008-08-06T17:30:00.000-07:00

I've still got this cold.

I got it from my kids, who got it from their friends next door, who apparently got it from their friends, who are friends of my kids, who gave it to them. Thus we see the Great Wheel of Life. Or as the famous Persian Poet, Omar…uh...Sharif, put it, "The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, should be washed, because honest to God! Who knows where that finger has been???"

My head cold isn't one of those Blue State, quiche-eating, metro-sexual colds. This is a Real Man's Virus. A GI Germ. It's still in my head at the moment, digging trenches, stringing barbed wire, air-dropping surrender demands to my lungs, but the push south is eminent. My immune system is responding to the threat much like our own State Department, writing stiff notes of protest and offering to cede the larynx, bronchial tubes, and three lymph nodes to be determined later in exchange for a cession of hostilities. But I suspect that the invaders want the whole enchilada. (And they're welcome to it. Everything tastes like cardboard at the moment anyway.)

Naturally, being a guy, I will postpone taking any medication until parts start dropping off. And even then I'll first give serious consideration to super glue. I'm probably worse than most guys, though. I do not do well on cold medications.

I once went to an outdoor living history event, took two Sudafeds, had a beer, and woke up three days later in a committed relationship with an entire clan of Scottish bagpipers. (I broke it off, but we still exchange cards.) But when the little Irish-Jamaican guy in my head starts to play "Danny Boy" on the oil drum tympani behind my left eye, I start to weaken on my resolve to "Just Say No."

So I really need to feel bad before I start popping pills, using sprays, or swallowing (shudder) any of that "bubble gum" flavored syrup. And what's with the medicine labels these days? Now, I realize and completely accept that I'm getting ol..., uh, becoming more matu...that the time (a completely artificial construct of the limited human mind) between the date of my birth and today has increased. But really, why bother writing all those warnings, side effect notices, and expiration dates on the side of the box anymore? The print is so small you could emboss it on each pill and still have room for a little light reading before ingesting.

[Side Note: The increasing temporal disparity between my natal day and the present was brought forcefully to my attention by the arrival a few days ago of a letter from those sadists at the AARP. “Fifty percent off all cremation services when you join the American Association of Retired Persons!" or something like that. I would have called their 800 number to have them stop bothering me, but I couldn't find my reading glasses.]

Now where was I? Seems like I lose track of things more often now then I used to. Darn colds. Oh yeah, medicine. The side of this box of cough medicine (near as I can tell by holding the box on the end of a ruler at arm’s length) says...well it says a lot of things, most of them meaningless and not a few of them frightening. This happens to be a box of children's cough medicine that states "Do not drive car or operate heavy machinery." Words to live by, I tell my ten and twelve year old kids.

Another box of adult cold medicine that I was seriously contemplating opening (as the little man in my head with the drum has switched from "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" to "Wipe Out") says, with regards to the dangers of accidental overdose, "Quick medical attention is needed for adults as well as children, even if you don't notice any signs or symptoms." ....? That's it. I'm moving in with my doctor until I'm over this thing.

Anyway, that’s all I got for the moment. It’s time to stop writing and go lay down. Besides, the "Moby Dick" drum solo from Led Zeppelin is about to play and I'd hate to miss it.

Hope you're all well,

Don

Sick as a Dog. And Lazy Too.

2008-08-04T10:19:00.000-07:00

(My apologies, but the massive head cold I am now selflessly sharing with my family and friends means that I am unable to generate anything more original than phlegm. So I am reposting a piece I posted back when I had only two readers (About a month ago.) )

I liked it. Hope you do too.

I'll get better soon. (That's health -wise, not with regards to humor. I think I've pretty much topped out there.)

Cheers,

Don

Once again we see the fruits of applied technology without moral guidance. South Korean Scientists have succeeded in cloning cats; which seems kind of pointless to me, because if you put any two random cats together, seemingly regardless of their sex, you soon have dozens of the tiny fur balls that then have to be hauled off in a big cardboard box by my kids to the grocery store to be given away.

If that was all there was to the story, we could all just have a laugh at tremendous expense and effort that was put into this procedure, because my neighborhood alone could have supplied their feline requirements for years. But these scientists weren't just satisfied with mass-produced Muffys; they had to make cats that glow in the dark. (When will the madness end?)

Naturally, the Korean Ministry of Science and Technology tried to make the whole thing sound noble and selfless.

"The ability to produce cloned cats with the manipulated genes is significant as it could be used for developing treatments for genetic diseases and for reproducing model (cloned) animals suffering from the same diseases as humans." said a statement from the Ministry.

But trust me, this whole idea really came about because in some planning or budget meeting, the bio-nerds operating the cloning facility were yakking over kimshee and tea, and one of them said, "Ok, so we can maybe clone cats, big deal. But what if we can clone cats that glow in the dark! Gentlemen, its just possible that if we can make this work, we might be able to find women who will have sex with us!"

Preposterous you say? Selfless Workers in the Fields of Science, high tech soldiers in the battle against human suffering, concerned primarily with getting lucky? Well, without giving too much away, I used to attend those meetings. We had donuts and high sugar sodas but the principles were the same. (Just to set the record straight, I was the only naturally 'hot' one at those meetings. You could cut the Envy with a knife.)

In case you haven't realized it yet, the entire history of technological progress, the very Science Train of Discovery, has been staffed and driven by the types of guys who couldn't get a date for Saturday night with a tranquilizer gun. (Probably shouldn't have mentioned that. Right now some lab assistant out there is leaning back in his chair and thinking "Tranquilizer gun???...Of Course!) Now, not all scientists are loser's in love's lottery. You had to have a few of us around to look good for the press release photos. (And plaid, worn by the right kind of man, is honey to the bees.) But it can't be denied, that if sex is the greatest driving force for the average man, think how much greater the pressure must be on men of towering intellect, imagination, and the physical appeal of cotton swabs.

So where is this all going you ask?

Its time for an appeal to all you women out there. Radioactive kittens are one thing, but if these scientists ever get the idea that the creation of giant rabbits or mutant cucumbers is the key to a woman's heart, well there'll be no stopping them. As I said in the beginning of this wandering diatribe, moral guidance is needed, and women since the dawn of time, have provided that guidance for men. (plus clean shirts and bail money)

So I to propose to you, the women of our Great Nation, that you need take these scientists in hand (so to speak) and use your wiles to convince the hormone driven fiends in lab coats and pocket protectors that mutating little white mice just doesn't turn you on, whereas the development of a fat free chocolate or never run nylon just might mean an invitation to your place to install a new hard drive in your computer. It's "Take a Dweeb to Dinner" month ladies and a grateful Nation will thank you.

-------

:>

Idaho Gets Another Bad Rap

2008-08-01T20:53:00.000-07:00

And now.

A Don Lewis for President Campaign Song
by the Famous North Idaho rapper Rediculous.

Whappa Whappa Whappa Wap, Whappa Whappa Whappa Wap...

"Yeah..."

Dum shee Dum. Dum shee dump

"Now listen up..."

Whappa Wap, Whappa Wap

"I gotta make this quick 'cause I gotta cut the hay."

Dump shee dump, dump dump she dump

"And this Idaho cracka hasn't givin' me my pay."

Dump shee dump, dump dump shee dump

So now I'm sittin' here with my bitch and my hoes'

"How This Guy be president, nobody knows."

Whappa Whappa Whappa Whap, Whappa Whappa Whappa Whap!

"Nobody knows."

"I'll never get a record deal workin' for this clown.

His ideas, don' please us, belong unda'ground.

Paint the White House plaid an' dress like a bunny.

Give the bomb to LOBO just 'cause he thinks it's funny."

"So listen here you peeps,

Its time you ought to fear,

Cause yo' other choices suck

And Don Lewis is here"

Thumpity Thumpity Thump

"That's right..

That's right..

Don Lewis is Here."

Well that was refreshing.
Have a good weekend all.

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Boys

2008-07-31T08:16:00.000-07:00

OK. Stop it right there.

I have no interest in listening to your problems right now.

Sure you got troubles.

War, Famine, Pestilence, Poverty.

But believe me, none of that can hold a candle to my woes of the moment.

These are my daughters.

Abi is twelve going on thirteen this December and Eli is ten. Beautiful aren't they?

As many of you know, I live in northern Idaho. We're reasonably far out. We do have a few neighbors, but it's a mile and a half drive on a dirt road just to get out to the two lane that leads from Plummer to St. Maries. So my daughters are very country, going for long hikes in the woods, building forts and hideaways by the pond or down in the canyons.

See this?

This is a picture of my nearest neighbor's place. They live immediately to my south. Very nice folks. Helpful, kind, and generous, give you the shirt off their backs.

I'm sure going to regret the necessity of wiping their off-spring out. It's bound to upset the neighborly relations we share.

I don't want to do it of course, but I find my options are shrinking. I'm certain you will understand why this must be done when I tell you that my neighbors children are all boys.

My neighbors kids.
(A father's view)

Until recently, I actually figured that I could find a way to live with this problem. Chastity belts; maybe forced sterilization (I figured to do it by inviting the lads on a hunting trip.)

See this?

This is a picture of my other nearest neighbor's place. They live immediately to the north of me. A lovely elderly couple. Also kind and generous. We get together for a big party every Christmas.

They're moving.

They decided that with advancing age they needed to move closer to family. Perfectly understandable.

So they've sold their home to a very nice young couple.

With children.

Boys.

(A father's assumption of the new boys)

Here's an aerial picture of the situation.

So, unless I can come up with something else, I'm going to have to skag the whole lot.

Now northern Idaho is no longer the wild and woolly west that most people imagine it to be. The days of just perfunctorily wiping out young males who happen to make the fatal error of looking at (or thinking of) your daughters is gone.

No, you can no longer get off scot-free for adolescentcide. I imagine I'll be facing a hefty fine and possibly even a sentence of community service.

So before I go out and spend a whole lot of money for ammunition, I wish to appeal to you, my readers.

Any other suggestions?

Please feel free to vote for me at humor-blogs.com. Thanks

:>

Idle Hands

2008-07-28T23:23:00.000-07:00

Today, continuing to pretend to make good on my promises, I bring you news that other more political correct and lily-livered news sources refuse to do.

I'm referring to yet another terror attack on an American Official by religious extremists who have perverted a Doctrine of Peace into a monstrous sham of mayhem and destruction.

Yes, I'm talking about Radical Voodooism.

A report has surfaced from Deltona Florida about a "menacing" voodoo doll left on the property of City Commissioner Zenaida Denizac. In the time honored tradition of such things, a photo of the Commissioner's head was taped to the doll which also sported several nasty pins.

Naturally, like all rational humans, the commissioner, recognizing this as a childish stunt no doubt the result of Uber-beer consumption on the part of some local teens, picked up the doll and made a three point hook shot into the nearest voodoo refuse receptacle.

Fortunately for this reporter: not.

"I feel totally violated...." Denizac said.

As a result of this violation, the Volusia County Sheriff has increased its presence outside of all city commissioners' homes to insure their safety. Sheriff deputies are even dumpster diving into the commissioners' trash cans to root out any other metaphysical attack Barbies.

And they said "It couldn't happen here".

(Personal note: What a lousy voodoo doll! Pride in work seems to be gone these days. I recognize that there are probably lots of different artistic styles out there, but really. If I was making a voodoo doll, it would be a lot more identifiable.)

Yes, legions of voodoo practitioners and their walking dead suicide stumblers, the zombies, are wreaking havoc across our great Nation.

Now some of you bleeding-heart appeasers will no doubt accuse me of "Zomfear". (Not to be confused with the internationally known "Master of the Pan pipe" so frequently seen on late night UHF stations.) but in this you would be wrong.

I recognize that the majority of zombies are simply hard-working, decent, family oriented ambulatory inanimates who are simply trying to get on with lifelessness.

The Mourning Commute.

No, I refer to the sizable minority who have perverted voodooism and are now engaged in a unholy war against the deceased-deficient. And the problem, of course, is telling the good zombie from the bad.

The sum of the parts do not make the whole, as it were.

But a fair portion of the problem must be laid at the feet (or stubs as the case may be) of the majority moderate zombie population who still refuse to speak out against the more radical members (Although missing tongues and jaws may also play a part in this failure.)

So what can we do?

Vigilance is the key.

Any out of the ordinary walking dead activity should be reported to the authorities immediately.

But it is equally important that we do not paint all Zombie-Americans with the same brush. Zombies have been discriminated against for far too long. Many of them simply need a hand.

Would you like fries wit...damn! Sorry about that.

Care to give me a hand? Then head over to check out these other funny blogs, and give me a vote of confidence while you're there. Thanks!

:>

The Requisite Campaign Crisis.

2008-07-25T13:35:00.000-07:00

Shocking News for supporters
of the "Spare Change" Presidential
Candidate, Don Lewis.

Candidate Accused of Cereal Offenses with Exotic Dancer.
-Plummer Plain Talker

Exotic Dancer Jessica "The Rabbit" Lobowski

"I Did Not Have Trix with that Woman, Ms Lobowsky!" Claims Lewis
-Coeur d' Alene Buttinski-Review

Carrot Juice DNA Found on Dancer's Blue Dress.
-Rabbit-fanciers Weekly

Candidate to Address Nation on Cony Conundrum
-AP

`` Good day.

This afternoon in this room, from this chair, I testified before a committee made up of my wife, and her three very large brothers, and a heirloom polish meat grinder and sausage stuffer.

I answered their questions truthfully, questions no American male would ever want to answer unless forced to make a choice between coarse and fine grind.

Still, I must take complete responsibility for all my actions, both public and private. (Such as they are known.) And that is why I am speaking to you now.

Indeed, I did have a relationship with Miss Lobowsky that was not appropriate. In fact, it was wrong. I am solely and completely responsible. The shameless home-wreaking tramp!

I know that my public comments and my silence about this matter gave a false impression. And I deeply regret that you didn't retain that initial belief.

I can only tell you I was motivated by many factors. First, by a desire to protect myself, my family, and the good folks down at the High O' Silver Gentlemen's Club from the embarrassment of my own conduct.

In addition, I had real and serious health concerns about an independent investigation being conducted by my Father-in-Law, Mike "The Kielbasa" Moore.

This independent investigation had moved on to my friends and novelty costume suppliers, then into my private life.

This has gone on too long, cost too much and hurt too many innocent people (I for instance have received over 30 minutes of near-debilitating dutch-rubs from my brother-in law Greg "The Electrician" Moore.)

Now, this matter is between me, the three people I love most -- my wife and our daughters.

(Note: Person depicted above is not actually Don's wife, but
is instead a really hot celebrity impersonator of the same.)

I must put it right, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to do so as long as it works for me sympathy-wise and at the polls.

Nothing is more important to me personally. But it is private, and I intend to reclaim my family life for my family. It's nobody's business but ours until such time as I write my autobiography. ("I Was a Rabbit of the FBI" $24.95 Pre-order now!)

It is time to stop the pursuit of personal destruction and the prying into back-room lap dance facilities and get on with our national life. Our country has been distracted by this matter for too long, and I take my (extremely limited in a legal and litigatory sense) responsibility for my part in all of this.

That is all I can do.

Now it is time -- in fact, it is past time to move on -- in fact, let's just forget it ever happened. I think that's for the best. Don't you?

We have important work to do -- real opportunities to seize, real problems to solve, real security matters to face. Real relatives to avoid.

And so tonight, I ask you to turn away from the spectacle of the past 30 minutes, to repair the fabric of our national discourse, and to return our attention to all the challenges and all the promise of the next American century.

Thank you for watching. ''

There. That's done. Actually a bother really, but tradition must be served. Now we can go on to other, more important campaign stuff, like false and misleading commercials about my opponents fabricated failings.

Please... Please...

Show the World that you forgive me and want to keep our shared desire for real and meaningful spare change strong by clicking here at humor-blogs.com. If not for me...Then for the children.

(Note: These aren't his kids either.)