Friday, December 18, 2009
When told by a reporter that "fifteen in spanish is actually quince," Ochocinco put on a sombrero and spit in the reporter's face.
An emotional and teary Ochocinco then asked, "Why did Chris Henry have to die so young?"
The same reporter replied, "The guy was beating on the back window of a speeding pickup truck with no shirt on and an arm in a sling. I'd say he died of poor judgement."
Authorities have not ruled out suicide as the cause of death.
It was an evening of slippery fun! As the sun set over Passaic, guess what we had for dinner? Nope. We fooled you. We had burgers at the Burger House. Delicious! The missus and I sat at our table enjoying some Manny's over ice while the kids played in the nearby fountain.
What a surprise! The fountain squirted applesauce! Our little Sascha snuck some sour cream when he thought nobody was looking.
There are over 18 rides and many exhibits. The most impressive exhibit was a five story statue of Sitting Bull made entirely of latkes. Never before has a Native American seemed like he belonged to one of OUR tribes! :)
The Melonosky family gives Latkeland 5 stars!!! Enjoy it with your family soon!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Hermey and Rudolph rode the little iceberg through the night until they got to a strange and desolate island. "This looks like the just the place for a couple of misfits," said Hermey.
But they were not alone. Soon, Benny introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Benny and this is the Isle of Misfit Sex Toys," he said. Hermey was confused and asked, "Why are you a misfit?"
"I'm a pair of ben wah cubes and no little girl wants to play with a pair of ben wah cubes," Benny replied sadly. "I'm a misfit."
Gary Glitter was next . "I'm body glitter that looks like herpes. No, little girl wants to wear me when she goes out dancing," he said. "I'm a misfit."
"No woman wants to wear me when they play either" said a sad Consuelo. "I'm a frumpy, Guatemalan maid costume. This island will always be my home."
I had to remove the rest of the post because the content filter at work wouldn't let me visit my own blog -- too many bad words. It gets more disgusting and more funny, promise.
I moved the entire bit to UncleMelon.com.
Friday, December 11, 2009
I wasn't planning on doing a Hanukkah bit because its all been done and most of it more than 5,000 years ago. But then Steve, the guy in the cubicle next to me, said the funniest damn thing ever and I figured I would share.
Steve's photos can be found at HudsonValleyXXXposed.com.
I'm working on a game involving spinning a ladle for next Hanukkah. I think its going to be like Spin the Bottle only Jewisher.
During my research for this post I came across this disturbing page on Wikipedia:
Its a list of Jews. And they have us categorized by type. It's hard to see but some of the types are:
Easily Bruised Jew
Kind of Handsome for a Jew
Pretty Nice Guy for a Jew
Some of my Best Friends that are Jews
Jew that Occasionally Buys a Round
Italian Women that are so Jewish they might as well be Jews
The Jew at the Club
Additional types on Wikipedia's List of Jews submitted by my readers*
Deaf, Dumb and Blind Jews
Deaf, Dumb and Blind Jews that Sure Play a Mean Pinball
Jews for Jesus
Jews Not for Jesus
Jews You Know
Jews You Don't Know
Jews Who Eat Armour Hot Dogs
Jews that Only Eat Hebrew National
Jews Who've Been In Space
Jews Who've Helped Gentiles Get In Space Using their Mathematical Jewish Brains
Jewish Women With Sexy Voices
Jewish Women Who Perform Oral
Jews Who Make Lists
Jews Who End Up on Lists
Half-Jews that Make Lists of the Types of Jews on Wikipedia's List of Jews
*That reader would be my brother, Dave Melonosky
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
There's going to be one happy kid this holiday season!!! It's Thomas the Tank Engine!!!
Calling All Engines! Thomas is in trouble and he needs all his friends to help him! Don't cry, Timmy. I'm sure you can help Thomas. It's not like he's in real trouble -- like he's gotten his coal tender preggers. He's in a little trouble -- like he's forgotten where he's placed his kippers and doesn't want crumpets for breakfast. You'll be able to help your friend Thomas.
You're crying because it's a a video tape? You want one of those new fangled DVDs instead? Shut your trap, you ungrateful, needy, little bastard...
This poster creeps me out. I would have gone with the happy American-style Santa, you know, the guy that hangs with Ronald McDonald, not the Norman Rockwellian German-style Santa that is scary in a killer clown sort of way.
And the poster implies that Santa was in the Corps. Once a Marine, always a Marine. When was Santa a highly trained killing machine? He's pretty old. No way was he killing gooks in Nam. Krauts in the Big One? Krauts in the not-quite-as-big-as-the-Big-One? Confederates during the Civil War? Mexicans in Montezuma? Barbarians in Tripoli? Don't worry Timmy, Santa only kills when he has exhausted every other possible option.
Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Semper Fi!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Big Time Producer: To hell with it. Give me her ass!
Big Time Producer: I want Sandra Bullock's ass right in my face. I want painted on white pants, I want ass crack, butt camel toe, whatever you kids call it, I want an ass that looks so tasty that all of America wants to eat it for Thanksgiving!!!
Marketing Guy: Yes, Sir!
Big Time Producer: And tell the art department geeks to take 3 inchs off her waist. That'll make that ass pop!
Marketing Guy: Great idea, Sir. What should we do with the black guy? Make him really small and have the yard markers point from his distant silhouette directly at Sandra Bullock's ass?
Big Time Producer: Nah, put his big fat ass right next to Sandra's delicious little ass. Black/white. Yin/yang. Beautful/ugly. It's feng shui, baby!!!
So, will I go to the movie theater to see Sandra Bullock's ass and another uplifting "What Would a Poor Black Person do Without a Kindly-Hearted White Person" biopic? No. While I would love to be able to ease my liberal guilt by spending $12 and 2 hours watching another "White People as Savior" flick and I'm obviously fascinated with Sandra Bullock's ass, I'm broke and I already have the newspaper ad of Sandra's ass. Thank you, Big Time Producer.
Friday, December 4, 2009
IRVING — Cowboy linebacker Bradie James was at his outspoken best Wednesday when he talked about the Cowboys - Giants rivalry and one of the points he made was that New York Giants quarterback Eli Manning had defiled the new stadium after New York’s 33-31 victory in September.
"Eli signed the inside of the locker room," James said. "He put his phone number. You got to be discreet about that stuff. We won’t forget that. It just makes for a more intense game."
If there was any doubt about the authenticity of the signature, Manning put an end to that Thursday when he confirmed that he did, in fact, sign a concrete column in the visitors’ locker room.
"It’s a pretty common thing," Manning told reporters in New York. "It's how Peyton hooked up with Zach Thomas. Heck, it's how my dad met Jack Youngblood."
Archie and Peyton Manning was unavailable for comment.
Cowboys coach Wade Phillips said he likes and respects Manning, but also said, "Things come back around in this league. Eli is a classy player but he has to learn to keep it on the down low. I really respect him, especially his family. I played football against his dad in college and we shared the soap in the shower but you won't find my signature on the wall at Ole Miss."
Manning did not seem concerned when told that the Cowboys were using his autograph as motivational fodder.
"I kind of heard a few things about it," Manning said. "I figure they’ll eventually get over it. Next time I'll just put my number on my facebook wall."
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Up to a few days ago, I could give a fart about Tiger Woods.
Based on my TV, the idea that Tiger Woods may have cheated on a woman that looks as good as a woman can look fascinates everyone. That Mrs. Perfect 10 may have hit Tiger Woods upside the head with his own golf club? That cracks me up.
***I expunged the rest of this bit because it made me cringe.***
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
BUENOS AIRES, Argentina — A 38-year-old former Miss Argentina has died from complications after undergoing cosmetic surgery on her buttocks.
Solange Magnano, a mother of twins who won the crown in 1994, died of a pulmonary embolism Sunday after three days in critical condition following a gluteoplasty in Buenos Aires.
"Mr. Magnano? About your wife, there's good news and bad news. First the good news, your wife's ass looks terrific! Now the bad news, she's never going to use it again and neither are you."
Feel free to bombard me with buttock puns, gluteoplasty euphemisms and hate e-mails.
From my brother, Dave:
I once tricked a girl into a little "cosmetic surgery" on her buttocks. She didn't die, but she couldn't sit down for a week.
Miss Argentina?! Of course I do, that country's got quality ass. Unfortunately, the quality of their ass surgeons? Not so good.
Sphincter?! Hell, it killed her!
If only the embolism had gone to her brain, it wouldn't have done any damage!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
I whipped out my tikka masala, and to her surprise
It was every bit as hot as her vindaloo
Like Superman and Batman, every joke has an origin story and this one was conceived in a canoe on a lake in Connecticut.
Dave and I were fishing as the sun began to set behind a million dollar lakeside home. As long time readers of this blog know, I only fish with a hula popper because if I was a fish I would be unable to resist a frog in a skirt. My brother was using a real lure and was actually catching fish.
When me and Dave are together, the jokes fly and loud, obnoxious laughter fills the air. It's like a writer's room. No boundaries, no shame, no joke too rancid. And like a good writer's room, we are both willing to let loose with 30 bombs in a row in the hope that the 31st is a winner. Dave must have killed because I laughed so hard that I tipped the canoe.
Me and Dave are city boys that swim worse than we fish so a rocking canoe is a precarious perch. So, I decided to give the canoe a good shake everytime the lucky bastard landed another fish. This gave me a great idea for a bit, or a youtube video or an actual porn site.
Hold on to your paddles, boys!!! Here comes the Bang Canoe. The premise? Two losers decide to create a website but all the good vehicles are taken. Bang Bus? Been done. Minivan Soccer Moms? Been there. Bang Boat? Cabin cruiser, Miami, scorching mamacitas, old in 1998. Car backseats? So boring that even I have done it.
So the two loser guys come up with Bang Canoe. A canoe has so many advantages, its novel, its cheap, its outdoors, its OUTRAGEOUS!!! Of course the two guys have never actually been in a canoe and soon find out that the required positions and rythmic pounding are really hard to achieve in a canoe. HILARIOUS! (If you agree, call my agent.)
That's when a woman in a beautiful sari walked out on to the deck of her house and looked out across the lake. It may have been the soft light of the fading sun. It may have been that she was close enough to see but not so close that you could really see. It may have been the look of longing in her deep, brown eyes. Or it may have been the beer, but she looked just like this:
It only lasted a moment but her gaze fell upon the two half jews in the canoe and she smiled. Then her husband came out to check on the grill with a kid right behind him. The woman sighed and disappeared into the bright yellow light of her house.
Talk of fish and canoes turned to talk of women -- exotic, unattainable women and then I open with the classic, although club-worn:
She wants me.
My brother starts riffing, and I riff back and he ends up at the old Blues Brothers song that I'm sure they stole from some poor, incredibly talented, incredibly old, black guy. If you're a serious student of comedy, you know it goes something like this:
I said woman, you going to walk a mile for a camel
Or are you going to make like Mr. Chesterfield and satisfy?
She said that all depends on what you're packing
Regular or kingsize?
Then she pulled out my Jim Beam, and to her surprise
It was every bit as hard as my Canadian Club
I said what now you got to say baby?
She said umm...
So Dave starts with:
I opened up her aloo ghobi, and to my surprise
It was every bit as creamy as her chicken korma
I countered lamely with:
I covered her face in my kheer, and to my surprise
It curried her pakora
He smirked and responded with:
She took all of my palak paneer, and to my surprise
She let me skewer her meen moli
Definitely a step back so I tried to take advantage:
I pulled out my chipatti, and to her surprise
It was every bit as hard as her saag panir
Hard and saag makes no sense, though when you think about it, Jim Beam and Canadian Club? Did John Belushi have two dicks?
Then my brother ironed out her creases and put her to bed with:
I whipped out my tikka masala, and to her surprise
It was every bit as hot as her vindaloo.
For some reason tikki masala sounds penisy and vindaloo sounds vaginary and hot is the right adjective.
So thanks to my brother, Dave Melonosky for the help. Here he is with a prize winning yellow perch.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Last week, when the editors at George Magazine pitched this assignment, I jumped at it. With the exception of Houston, Texas, there are not too many places in the world I won't visit as long as I'm paid well and get to expense everything. Normally, I would spend my 36 hours in Rajasthan, India at the airport trying to get a flight out but that wouldn't be much of an article so I put a clothespin on my nose and went looking for fun.
Friday 5 P.M.
After 23 hours of air travel and eight hours on a crowded train from New Dehli, you're starting to think that another weekend in Milan might have been a better way to spend $60,000, but one glance at the cannonball dents left in the wall of a fort will put a smile back on your face. Be careful not to step on a dusty beggar as you trod past Mehrangarh Fort in beautiful Jodphur. Named for those silly pants favored by British fairies, this city of sandalwood, dirt and open sewers puts the "in" back in India, as in, get inside a fancy hotel and stay in!
Friday 8 P.M.Book yourself a room at the Umaid Bhawan Palace, a lavish Art-Deco masterpiece that proudly contains the longest sewer pipe in the eastern subcontinent, assuring that you won't be smelling yourself two hours later. Rooms start at 500,000 rupees, or $10,740 a night and for an additional 10,000 rupees Elizabeth Hurley will recreate her wedding night -- with you as the groom. After quenching your carnal apetite, dine at the hotel's restaurant. Order the Indian-influenced lamb curry (47 rupees) and a delightful bottle of Mumbai Merlot (114 rupees).
Friday 11 P.M.
Jodphur is a world famous exporter of polyester and opium. Skip the polyester but head over to The Devil's Bargain, a safe but touristy opium den on the darkside of town. Find a comfortable pillow and spoil yourself with some top shelf, pea-sized "pills" of the local Bollywood Brown (64 rupees a pill). Don't forget to pick up an artfully wrapped tin (160 rupees) of raw opium paste for the folks back home.
Saturday 11 A.M.
Forget where you are and how you got there? Go back and read the entry for Friday 11 P.M. then hire one of the colorful elephant cabs for the short ride to Bikaner. Remember to ride side saddle or you may lose an hour recovering from a elephant-induced episiotomy.
Bikaner is one of the few places in the country where the cow is treated like a cow and the rat is treated like a cow in India. Enjoy a 100% beef 114 Grammer with Cheese (12 rupees) with a traditional Cherry Slurpee (6 rupees) at the clean and well lit Burger and Lassi before standing in the long lines at the Karni Mata Temple.
Saturday 1 P.M.
The locals call it the Rat Temple but don't let the teaming swarms of rats discourage you from visiting. The 14th century architecture is splendid, the historical mumbo jumbo relayed to you by a guide with poor english and few teeth about how Ms. Mati asked the god of death to reincarnate the son of a grieving story teller and ended up with a temple and 30,000 rats makes you feel good about being a Christian, and the smell of rat feces is a refreshing break from the smell of human feces.
Much like a Japanese Restaurant, no shoes are allowed in the temple, and if a rat scurries over your foot, legend has it that you will have seven years of good luck -- and goosebumps for three hours. If you see an albino white rat, you win a date with Padma Lakshmi. If you are truly blessed and a rat shits in your coffee mug, this auspicious occurence will result in you being reincarnated as a guy married to one of those buxom multi-arm goddesses that are hotter than a five story walk up in old Bombay.
Saturday 6 P.M.
After a four hour bus ride to the pink city of Jaiper, visit the snack bar at the bus depot and order a chai (6 rupees) and a sweet fan biscuit (4 rupees). Watch as the weird herby stuff is steeped in exotic steamed milk, just like at the Starbucks back home where a chai (6 rupees) is almost as good and the maple oat nut scone (9 rupees) is actually better than anything you can get in India.
Get back in the bus and leave because Jaiper has way too many Indians and the curry is subpar.
Saturday 10 P.M.
Sitting on the edge of an endless desert where the sand in the wind painlessly removes the enamel from your front teeth, Udaipur is considered the most romantic city in India, --the Reno, Nevada of the subcontinent. It also has really good curry. At the Royal Sitar eschew the tempting chicken fingers and fries (15 rupees) and order the mutton curry (29 rupees). It's a hearty stew-like dish flavored with curry and the freshly killed parents of lambs, and it will provide you with the fuel you'll need for the frantic festivities to come.
Saturday 12 A.M.
At the upscale Bengali Ranch, choose from the well thought out selection of local varietals. In a small but elegant room (200 rupees an hour), she'll remove her shimmering sari then you'll whip out your tikki masala, and to her surpise it will be every bit as hot as her vindaloo.
Sunday 12 P.M.
Just like it's sister city of sin, Udaipur is full of one arm bandits. It is also home to an alarming number of two armed bandits, one legged bandits and one armed one legged bandits so watch your pocket book as you stroll to Lake Pichola. Take a boat (24 rupees) or wade (0 rupees) to the island in the middle of the lake and have lunch at the Isleoflosttoys Palace. Built in 1373, it's menu hasn't changed since 1397, and for good reason, everything is delicious. Order the curry (62 rupees).
Sunday 4 P.M.
As you begin your 31 hours of travel back home, with an ice pack strategically placed on your inflamed sphincter, squeezed in a train that is stuffed like a samosa with less than savory ingredients, think back on the last 36 hours and be thankful that you didn't go to Milan or Miami for the weekend because then you'd be forced to go back to work on Monday instead of Wednesday. (You don't get sentences like that at the New York Times!)
I did this better before:
36 Hours in Zagreb, Croatia
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Dr. Merv Rettenmund, an Ear, Nose and Throat man at Putnam Hospital, noticed the smell first. "Jesus, it smells like rotting fish!" he exclaimed between puffs on his Newport Menthol.
Steve looked up in disbelief. "Zombie salmon from hell!" he shouted. An overpowering stench rose up out of his chest waders. It was not the foul smell of zombie fish or a fart ignited from last night's Hommel Chili with Beans. Tough guy Steve had crapped his pants.
He started to the nearest shore but the zombie fish had him cut off.
A big ugly mother came right at him. Steve stumbled on a rock and twisted his ankle. "Ouch," he thought and fell into the water.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Here are the best of the best. I know these cards are worth a small fortune and as soon as Antiques Roadshow comes to New York I'm going to find out if I'm getting myself a Wii for Christmas or a BMW!
All the Greatest New York Mets Collection
I was a Met fan growing up and until Daniel Murphy showed up this year there was only one Met worth idolizing, George Thomas Seaver. Tom Seaver cards were so coveted that I used to glue and tape them to the cover of the shoebox so that I didn't accidently flip them or stick them in the spokes of my bike.
I've left the old yellowing tape on because I know that collectors of fine antiquities really go for the warm glow of a well-aged patina.
"FU. I 'm afraid I'll get a chill."
I didn't know that Reggie Jackson would someday become Mr. October for the hated Yankees but how could I resist that pose? Just 11 years old and I already knew that drawing a penis was funny. It would be a few more years before I realized that drawing an erect penis was REALLY funny.