Just Too Dumb for The New Yorker

I was sitting in my dentist's waiting room searching through the worn collection of stale magazines when I found this old New Yorker:

I rarely understand today's artsy-fartsy New Yorker covers but I'm a product of New York's public schools and the State's university system. I don't know how to pronounce Dowton Abbey and don't give a damn about a bunch of toothless British nuns. I started reading a New Yorker article once...

But this cover from 1939? I got some ideas. Clearly, these were simpler times.

Two guys leaving a bar.

Two seriously daper guys -- pocket hankies, bow tie, white suits and that is one limp-ass noodle of a wrist. Subtext aplenty. The dude with the beret has an erect finger and the dude without the beret looks like he's about to lower his lips right down on it, right down until those knuckles are bouncing on his chin.

Really, I'm not the kind of homophobe that sees gay stuff everywhere -- but then there's the name of the bar, Sloppy Dick's.

I think that might be code for "Alternate Lifestyles Tolerated." And this following depiction is outrageous, even by 1939 standards.

Yikes! There's nothing subtextual about that image. If my thing moved does it mean Rick Santorum and Jesus hate me?

However, just when you think you have the thing figured out, The New Yorker fucks with your head. Just another nice watercolor of two guys hooking up in a bar and heading off to the beach, until you notice this guy.


He looks pissed. Could that be Richard, the owner of the establishment, who happens to be a messy bartender?

I left the best for last.

It's been awhile since I've seen one of those depicted on the cover of a magazine. I'm talking about the blowgun.

Is this the gayest and most racist New Yorker cover ever or is there another explanation?

And yes, I noticed the cat. That cat is either very shocked or very aroused, or both. And so am I.

An Intimate Portrait of Rick Santorum...

Made entirely of gay porn.


I don't ever repost stuff but this is great. Via Jon Hurwitz. Original at:

UnicornBooty.com

Look what he has under his chin.

Stewardesses in Jet Engines

Last month, a jet airliner was forced to emergency land in Lake Michigan because a bird was caught in one of the plane's engines. Every year hundreds of birds collide with planes. But it used to be worse. Much worse.

During the early days of the aviation industry, stewardesses were often caught in the jet engines of commercial flights. In 1972, birds and stewardesses accounted for 77% of all animal-airplane collisions.



Referred to as a SASH (Stewardess Airplane Strike Hazard), these incidents were often worse than hitting a duck. A 98-pound stewardess striking an aircraft going 150 MPH at lift-off generates the same devastating force as New Jersey Governor Chris Christie dropped from a height of 10 feet.

The first published acccount of a stewardess trapped in a jet engine occured in 1947 when Korean Air Flight 11 took off during a snow storm.

It was often said that, "Stews of a feather, flock together." Young, attractive stewardesses discovered that if they traveled in large groups their matching outfits would distract and disorient predatory pilots.

The largest number of stewardess strikes occured during the warmest months when stewardesses were most active and could often be found sunbathing on runways and airport tarmacs.

Not always fatal, these SASHs were so common that many airports maintained movable stairs to assist in removing the stewardess from the engine.

As jet engines got bigger, so did the problem.

Where previously stewardesses were trapped one at a time, the Boeing 747 would often scoop up more than one crew member.

And occasionally entire flight crews collided with engines. Sadly, there was no coffee, tea or me during this SAS flight.

A memorable incident involving Suzie and Mary Jane Stanton, twin sisters from East Hunterdon, Georgia, caught the attention of the entire nation.

Often these incidents ended in the death of the stewardess. The surprising quickness and brutality of the collisions often left the victims eerily "frozen" in time -- like the residents of Pompeii. In 1961, after an emergency landing outside of Phoenix, the crew discovered this horrific scene.

Two pretty, young sisters kissing their dad good-bye as TWA Flight 341A took off on Runway 49 bound for Miami.

This also explains the smiling faces on the stewardesses in many of the old photographs. Forgotten by most of us, prior to deregulation and 9-11, flight crews were encouraged to smile, act pleasant and treat their customers with courtesy and respect.

These photographs are gruesome evidence of a simpler, perhaps happier, time.

The following is the only existing photograph of a stewardess not smiling.

During the summer of 1962, two unrelated events convinced the world to finally address the escalating problem of stewardesses in jet engines.

A Finnish Air flight to Stockholm took off from a Helsinki Airport and inadvertantly scooped up two stewardesses and a pilot! This was the first recorded pilot-airplane collision fatality in over 25 years. While the loss of dozens of stewardesses a year was an accepted, although sad and unwelcome, hazard of the trade, pilots were considered a valuable asset by the airline industry at the time.

Closer to home, Jackie Bouvier Kennedy, the First Lady, was involved in a non-fatal collision when she was dressed a little too much like an Eastern Airlines stewardess.

A shaken President Kennedy directed the FAA (Federal Aviation Agency) to solve the stewardess problem.

Given the Jackie Incident, the FAA initially targeted airline dress code. Mini skirts were out. Hot pants were in.

Sadly, hot pants were not the solution.

Jet design was evaluated. An alert FAA investigator noticed that some joker had painted a swirly-whirly design on most of the engines. A design that could easily hypnotize an unsuspecting stewardess.

The FAA made the painting of psychedelic art and other hippy stuff onto airplanes illegal and Europe soon followed with their own guidelines.

Unfortunately, those swirly-whirly things were not the problem and hot pants fell out of favor.

The FAA was stumped -- until somebody remembered that Delta Airlines facility engineer Glenn Hughie invented the jet bridge back in 1959.

Jet bridges saved lives, stewardesses became flight attendants, and an early, forgotten chapter in the history of aviation was complete.

Yellow Fever... Catch It

I'm watching the Knick game last night on the Madison Square Garden Network (MSG) and while Walt "Clyde" Frazier was summarizing the dishin' and swishin' this image replaced the game highlights.

Wow. Is Isiah Thomas the only guy at Madison Square Garden that knows how to use photoshop?

When the camera cuts to an adorably cute Asian woman holding a sign that says "Jeremy, Me Love You Lin Time" I shake my head -- but I figure that Asians are allowed to make fun of Asian stereotypes, it's akin to African-Americans using the n-word or Jews doing the whole Jewish humor thing.

But MSG mashing up a goofy photo of their new Asian star and a fortune cookie? That's pretty damn insensitive. Remember, Confucius say, "Point of Chinese point guard not to guard point but to point to Jesus."

Was MSG just having a bad day? Then I remembered the graphic they used after the last Miami Heat game.

Note:

If you gave me basketball, a watermelon, Lebron James looking goofy and the freedom to be as racist as MSG, and told me to come up with a funny gag line, I would say, "Are you kidding me? That's too easy."

But I came up with nothing. And my goto racist guys came up with nothing too.

Somebody out there can do better, right?

The LeBron James Variety and Comedy Hour

All Hands on Deck!

Last week an All Hands On Deck Meeting popped up on my calendar. We have a new boss. I've never met him. I never will. He works 30 miles away.

I'm an office drone. I live and work in a hive of cubicles. We have no deck. We have staff meetings. So when the new boss scheduled an All Hands on Deck Meeting for last week, I metaphorically circled it on my Outlook calendar.

The morning of the All Hands on Deck Meeting it was postponed for three weeks. Our first ever All Hands on Deck Meeting will now take place in March.

I am not a sailor but when the captain tells the bosun to pipe "All Hands on Deck" I think it confers a sense of urgency to the proceedings. Something like, there's a pirate ship on the horizon, lets put up more sail and get the heck out of here or, we've got a German U-boat on the scope so we're going to need your best effort or, there's topless Playboy bunnies off the port bow, who has my binoculars?

Can an All Hands on Deck Meeting be postponed for three weeks and still be called an All Hands on Deck Meeting?

I've sent an e-mail suggesting that it be renamed a Staff Meeting. I may get to meet the new boss.

DISCLAIMER:
For the record, that's a picture of my coffee mug, and I do love my boss (wink). So, while it is true that I hate my job with a passion worthy of Mel Gibson, and it is true that my job is mind-numbingly boring, unfathomly useless and demeaning in ways that only a piss bucket boy from the 1700's would understand, it does pay the bills and I love my boss (wink).

My boss and everyone else in charge work very hard -- to make the rest of us feel small and insignificant, and miserable. But as my dad used to say, "Work is work. If it didn't suck worse than Karl Rove with a mouth full of broken glass, it wouldn't be work."

You saw the wink, right?

Glory Days - Books I Writed - Part 4

More books from the box in my mom's attic.
Log Jam at Stalag 13 Inches, 2001 -- Nothing like a big, steaming hunk of German bratwurst to satisfy the ladies.

Princess Grace Marries the Lorax, 1990 -- Very high and/or very desperate describes everyone associated with this effort.

Fantastic Voyage to her Cervix and Back, 2002 -- The last Doctor Evelyn Anderson, Lesbian OB/GYN Adventure I ever got to pen. I miss those days. I used to get ten cents a page which was good money in 2002.

How TBS Turned Harold and Kumar Gay (not that there's anything wrong with that)

Last weekend while trolling for something to watch during the commercials of the football games, I found Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle on TBS. Touchdown!

Even better, Sophie sitting on the couch with me had never seen it. Problem is that the movie was so edited down that it became unintentionally funny and downright stupid.

When I flipped it on, the boys are at Princeton, a funny scene with Kenneth Park, Class of 2004 that stayed funny despite TBS' best efforts.

Then we get to meet Christy and Clarissa, the hot, stuck-up, British preppie chicks that want to party. They invite Kumar up to their room to smoke some weed! The pink one is carrying a Mr. Taco bag so it looks like they're planning on providing munchies of all sorts.

That's the last we see of Christy and Clarissa. When the boys hide in the woman's room from the cops, the girls never show up. We cut straight to the Asian Student Party.

TBS didn't even show them preening at the mirror.

Battleshits was a no go.

At the Asian party, the boys watch the dance floor through a window and its obvious that they are loving everything they see. When we finally get to watch the party, TBS cuts out the hot, topless Asian chick and every other Asian with a vagina. The only boobs we see are attached to a topless, Kenneth Park, Class of 2004, dancing like its 1999.

Cut to Harold and Kumar looking like naked Kenneth Park is the hottest fucking thing ever. "Dude, we so should have gone to this party!"

Cops show up. Good bye Princeton.

Sophie turns to me and asks, "Are Harold and Kumar gay?"

Biggest laugh of the night. Not only did a chubby, naked, Korean dork turn Harold and Kumar on, they never bothered to go looking for the hot British twins.

Why This Saddens Me (after I laughed my ass off)

Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle is in my personal Comedy Hall of Fame. And my Hall of Fame is not like the Baseball Hall of Slightly Better than Average. My Hall of Fame has five members and not a Bert Blyleven among them. In chronological order:

Blazing Saddles

Caddyshack

Something About Mary

Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle.

40 Year Old Virgin

That's your Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Christy Mathewson, Honus Wagner and Walter Johnson of Movie Comedies.

You do not mess with the classics!!! I left a message with Martin Scorsese and is he going to be pissed.

Glory Days - Books I Writed - Part 3

More books from the box.

Hightops Hijinks, 1985. The very first example of Chuck Taylor Sci Fi. They worked in the car wash by day; at night, they used their supersoakers to keep Terra safe from all those who would do her harm.

The Girl with the Memorable Birthmark, 1992. I really should sue. Socially awkward and misunderstood skinny chick fucks up the man. I was gonna set it in Sweden but got lazy and went with LA.

Which End Goes in First?, 1986. Seriously, my work in feminist Sci Fi is the stuff of legend.

How Did Benny Hill Get So Effing Funny?

Another Post Courtesy of UK's Daily Mail - I kid Alfred Harmsworth, 1st Viscount Northcliffe a lot when we see each other at the Friar's Club but his rag does supply an endless assortment of crap for my blog.

How did Benny Hill get so effing funny? Not bologna in his shoes. He just stole stuff from the Argos Catalog (probably catalogue on that side of the pond).

How many classic Benny Hill bits can you find on this single page of the 1976 catalog?


Here's some Boots Randolph to get you in the mood.

How many did you find? I found five.

1. The man on the stationary bike "accidently" increases the speed on the butt shaking machine, causing her boobies to jiggle. Then he "accidently" turns the dial to ridiculous speed and her bikini flys off.

2. An "erection" rises up from one of the guys on the rowing machines except it turns out to be a dumb bell. When the woman runs away, an "erection" rises up from the other rowing guy -- but he's looking at the man on the bike!

3. The guy with the chest pulling thing "accidently" lets go of one end launching it like an arrow. It hits a shapely, young bird right in the buttocks while she's bent over touching her toes. She slaps an innocent Jackie Wright in the face.

4. Macho man rips all the hair off his chest with that springy thing.

5. The couples with the ropes get tangled up so that whenever he pulls with his arms, her legs spread wide open revealing her camel toe or as the Brits say, her Jack the Ripper that's a krusty kipper.

How did you do?

Glory Days - Books I Writed - Part 2

More books from the box.

Most Dangerous Pussy Alive, 1987 -- I was accused of ripping off the Conan series but come on, Derek was a feral wanderer NOT a barbarian.

Not Much of a Beach Day, 1984 -- Teenage romance on the shore. If only I had named my horny heroine Snooki, instead of Centropomi.

Teenage Stewardesses in Peril, 1990 -- Teenage! Stewardesses! Peril! Enough said, except I should mention the long forgotten Japanese soldiers!