In churches across the country, the faithful, and those who pretend to be, often gather with Aunt Zelda’s “gag me with a HUGE spork” coffee cake and Uncle Buck’s Venison Stew (Always quite crunchy: now with extra buckshot) for a potluck. That’s what we will do this week… Scribe potluck, a little bit this, a little bit of that, and extra something no one dares mention. For our new readers, at Bartcop.com, be aware… this is not your usual Scribe column; although his columns are mostly humor-based. Scribe just decided to give you a little taste of a few of his entrees. Don’t forget to wipe the tears of laughter, or disgust, when you’re done: unless you’re like the little spoiled brat, dictator wannabe: King Junior, who HAS TO wear a bib when he eats….
Open wide, Junior! Here come the Saudi flown airplanes!
-First Murderous Laura
First up on our plate, served up hot and spicy…
Real, Yet Unbelievable, News
“Almost as unbelievable as all the %$#@ Anna Nicole Smith coverage.”
Authorities in the Nigerian village of Isseluku arrested a man for killing his brother in September, but the man insisted he had only tried to move a goat from his farm, but… when it wouldn’t move he hit it with an ax, at which point it turned into his brother.
From Chuck Sheperd’s News of the Weird
(Yos- If he were one of Junior’s kin the media would be making up excuses, or blaming the axe. If he were Biggus Dickus his brother would have to apologize from the grave… and, amazingly, he would: but sound a hell of a lot like Rabid Rove.)
Next, another…
Incredibly Short, Short, VEEEEEEEEEERRRRRY Short Story
“Using fiction and farce for fun and frivolity.”
When they had whipped around Earth faster than a hungry 5 year old sucks up ice cream, they beamed down into the year 2007. They had found out, through a recently discovered archive, that Enterprise had had a part in stopping the Third World War, the one that started with King Junior pretending to attack Afghanistan…
…in reaction to 9/11, and ended when the president whom folks in Kirk’s time referred to as “El STUPIDO” was about to get his orders from the evil, malfunctioning, inhuman contraption that was about to order him to drop “the big one,” several times, on Iran.Now it’s a fact, except in really bad SF stories, NO ONE ever says, “Take me to your leader.” It’s tacky. It’s a cliche’. Besides, they KNEW that America was actually being led by something else… something cold… impersonal… and they knew exactly where it was on this day, this time. They had no problem finding the device that moved around… occasionally for “security reasons,” but was once again was hunkered down deep in that bunker where it was often kept.
They phasered their way into the bunker, and past all guards, and then came face to face with the monstrosity. Knowing how he had solved this conundrum before through the creative use of paradox, he had already decided to keep throwing somewhat obvious, yet true, paradoxes at the malfunctioning thing; believing it would eventually destroy the nasty, cruel device.
His last paradox was…
“If you follow logic, then you know that the British leaving is a sign of failure.”
The heartless thing spoke, as always, in a hideous monotone…
“Sign of success.”
“Success? If that were true, and you really want to win and not ‘embolden’ the enemy, you would have these successful soldiers help you with the rest of the country.”
“That would be… sign of failure.”
“But it would lead to success….”
Then to Spock he said, “Stand back. All the paradoxes it has created by its very existence will make it implode now.”
Nothing happened.
“Damn it Spock; it has always worked before…”
“Captain, that’s because you’re talking to Dick Cheney, better known in our time as ‘Biggus Dickus.’ We’ll have to short circuit the heart of the thing instead. It was called a ‘pacemaker.’ Please be careful, Captain. Stand back and avoid the appendage holding the archaic weapon they called a ’shotgun’ while I do this…”
And, finally, another edition of…
Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam
“Those grand times when Monty Python-ish humor and the net meet.”
From one of Scribe’s readers in NY, NY…
SUPERTELEVANGELISTIC SEX-AND-DRUGS PSYCHOSIS
Parody of “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” (Sherman/Sherman)
Lyrics by M. Spaff Sumsion
PERFORMED BY ROBERT LUND
I used to be a master of the anti-gay crusade
Until a butch disaster blew my pastor masquerade
But if it’s true I’m pounding more than pulpits, don’t blame me
It’s ’cause I caught my hooker-tweaker-stud’s infirmity
It’s
Supertelevangelistic sex-and-drugs psychosis
Worse than plague and bird flu crossed with osteoporosis
We were playing doctor and he gave this diagnosis:
Supertelevangelistic sex-and-drugs psychosis
Umm Haggard Bakker Swaggart umm Tammy Faye
Umm Haggard Bakker Swaggart umm Tammy Faye
I found the perfect therapist – the kind that gives massage
I like to drive my Escort and I park in his garage
I swear he only serves me crank when all his Coke is gone
And then he helps me straighten out my Peter, James, and John
Blame
Supertelevangelistic sex-and-drugs psychosis
That’s my greatest guilty pleasure next to Guns N’ Roses
Good thing there’s no ban on it in all the books of Moses
Supertelevangelistic sex-and-drugs psychosis
Umm Haggard Bakker Swaggart umm Tammy Faye
Umm Haggard Bakker Swaggart umm Tammy Faye
It seems all pious public figures bugger on the sly
But Jesus loved republicans and sinners; so must I
Say “Holy moley, Mister Foley! That boy’s underage!”
But I believe the congressman has turned another page
Oh!
Supertelevangelistic sex-and-drugs psychosis
Next time, better cut me off at handshakes and Mimosas
No more meth or men for me (at least in overdoses)!
Supertelevangelistic sex-and-drugs psychosis!
Ye Olde Scribe Presents: Potluck!
In churches across the country, the faithful, and those who pretend to be, often gather with Aunt Zelda’s “gag me with a HUGE spork” coffee cake and Uncle Buck’s Venison Stew (Always quite crunchy: now with extra buckshot) for a potluck. That’s what we will do this week… Scribe potluck, a little bit this, a little bit of that, and extra something no one dares mention. For our new readers, at Bartcop.com, be aware… this is not your usual Scribe column; although his columns are mostly humor-based. Scribe just decided to give you a little taste of a few of his entrees. Don’t forget to wipe the tears of laughter, or disgust, when you’re done: unless you’re like the little spoiled brat, dictator wannabe: King Junior, who HAS TO wear a bib when he eats….
-First Murderous Laura
First up on our plate, served up hot and spicy…
Real, Yet Unbelievable, News
“Almost as unbelievable as all the %$#@ Anna Nicole Smith coverage.”
From Chuck Sheperd’s News of the Weird
(Yos- If he were one of Junior’s kin the media would be making up excuses, or blaming the axe. If he were Biggus Dickus his brother would have to apologize from the grave… and, amazingly, he would: but sound a hell of a lot like Rabid Rove.)
Next, another…
Incredibly Short, Short, VEEEEEEEEEERRRRRY Short Story
“Using fiction and farce for fun and frivolity.”
When they had whipped around Earth faster than a hungry 5 year old sucks up ice cream, they beamed down into the year 2007. They had found out, through a recently discovered archive, that Enterprise had had a part in stopping the Third World War, the one that started with King Junior pretending to attack Afghanistan…
They phasered their way into the bunker, and past all guards, and then came face to face with the monstrosity. Knowing how he had solved this conundrum before through the creative use of paradox, he had already decided to keep throwing somewhat obvious, yet true, paradoxes at the malfunctioning thing; believing it would eventually destroy the nasty, cruel device.
His last paradox was…
“If you follow logic, then you know that the British leaving is a sign of failure.”
The heartless thing spoke, as always, in a hideous monotone…
“Sign of success.”
“Success? If that were true, and you really want to win and not ‘embolden’ the enemy, you would have these successful soldiers help you with the rest of the country.”
“That would be… sign of failure.”
“But it would lead to success….”
Then to Spock he said, “Stand back. All the paradoxes it has created by its very existence will make it implode now.”
Nothing happened.
“Damn it Spock; it has always worked before…”
“Captain, that’s because you’re talking to Dick Cheney, better known in our time as ‘Biggus Dickus.’ We’ll have to short circuit the heart of the thing instead. It was called a ‘pacemaker.’ Please be careful, Captain. Stand back and avoid the appendage holding the archaic weapon they called a ’shotgun’ while I do this…”
And, finally, another edition of…
Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam
“Those grand times when Monty Python-ish humor and the net meet.”
From one of Scribe’s readers in NY, NY…