Disney Week: The Future of the Magic Kingdom

I have seen the future of Disney World -- in the movie WALL-E.

Three hours into my vacation at Disney World, I noticed something weird. There were more scooters in the park than there were strollers. When I say scooters, I'm not talking about these things.

I'm talking about these things. You know, Evel Knievel's last ride, the Rascal, a tricked out wheelchair, a scooter.

Thousands and thousands of scooters as far as the eye could see. I knew that Disney had gay days, and military days, but Bring a Disabled Fat Guy to Disney Day? It wasn't in the official guide. After careful study, I noticed something unusual about these disabled people:

They all had a smoked turkey leg in one hand

They all had greasy turkey dribblings on all their chins

They all had several chins each

They all got out of their scooters after they parked them next to the stollers and got on line with nary a limp.

This was not a vast army of disabled fatties. It was a vast army of lazy, fat asses.

I have seen the future and it ain't pretty. The good folks at Pixar gave us a warning -- under the watchful eyes of their evil, corporate overlords.

You know how the humans in Wall-E have evolved into chubby, soft, infantesque slugs that can not even get out of there mobile recliner chairs? I screen captured a frame from the movie and look, a smoked turkey leg and a jumbo-sized Diet Coke. Subliminal product placement? I don't think so. Pixar knows that Disney Imagineers are working feverishly, and in less than twenty years, we will be those larva-like, lumps of lard.

The monorail will stop at the Magic Kingdom. Our electric recliner chairs will disembark and efficiently transport us around the park. We'll go to every attraction, no need to get out of our chairs, they just snap on to the rides. No need to think or make a decision, our chairs will visit every gift shop, every parade, every ride and every turkey leg stand, then deposit us at our Disney Resort hotel room fourteen hours later. Restrooms? Only Granny uses restrooms. Colostomy bags and catheters for everyone, complete with ears!

Why do I care if Americans are too damn lazy to walk? Look at this photo I took of the guys I was with on my trip.

The only photo where I finally got everyone to pose in one place and some frickin princess from Tennessee, a slug in training, ruins the shot with her speedy junior scooter.

If you look closely, there it is, the smoked turkey leg ,and I think I see a second chin begining to emerge.

Be scared people, be very, very scared.

Disney Week: Snow White and the Medicated Dwarves

I just spent 3 days at Disney World (don't ask) so now you all have to suffer. I am declaring this week Disney Week! First up, a rerun of one of my favorite bits, that's clever, funny, and well-drawn. I have updated the text a little.

Snow White has been busy improving the lives of her housemates. With the help of the Pharmaceutical Research Manufacturer's Association (PhRMA), Snow White has all the dwarves on human growth hormone, and has carefully selected prescriptions for each of their "quirks." Snow White has joined us today as a special guest:

Narcoleptic Dwarf (we affectionately call him Narcky), formerly known as Sleepy, was not only the least productive of the dwarves, but also posed a safety hazard in the diamond mine. Everytime the accident bell rang and I had to pull the lifeless bodies of Dopey and Doc from a tunnel, I knew ol' Sleepy had nodded off at the air bellows. Thanks to the research and development efforts of Cephalon, we sometimes call him "Perky" instead. He stares at the task at hand and performs his job. Just don't try and strike up a conversation or chit-chat, because Foggy will just mumble a few words and go right back to work.

Allergic Dwarf, formerly known as Sneezy, was very pleasant and meant well. But just try to eat your bowl of porridge when the dwarf across the table from you is schnuffling, and dripping, and wiping his little snot covered fingers all over the tablecloth. And when he sneezed! Sure we used it for a couple of cheap laughs when we made the movie but I literally had to get out the mop and the bucket and scrub half the cottage everytime he let one loose. Thanks to Claritin and the good folks at the Schering-Plough Corporation, Ally is a happier, less disgusting dwarf that is a pleasure to live with!

Depressy, formerly known as Grumpy, has finally addressed his issues with his mother, and her prenatal habits that led directly to his disability. Once we titrated his dose to 80 mg per day, he's acted as happy as a lark, even if he still sings like a foghorn. We still give credit to Eli Lilly, even though the cheapskates over at Disney will only pay for the cheaper generic version of the drug. Of course, D.P. can no longer masturbate, but that's one less mess I have to clean up every morning!

Social Anxiety Disorder (SADDY) Dwarf, formerly known as Bashful, was a frustrating little dwarf to be around. Oh, if I had a lump of coal for everytime I just wanted to yell, "Just say it already loser!" -- I could have bought this cottage and sent the lot of them on their merry way. But I'm a beautiful, fairy tale princess that has been wrongfully exiled by an equally beautiful evil stepmother, so I just had to bite my tongue and be patient. My tongue was a mess!

Thanks to Paxil and GlaxoSmithKline, SADDY is much less frustrating to live with. My tongue has healed but now my buttocks are sore from his constant pinching. Given the choice, this princess would take SADDY everytime.

Manic, as we call him now, was Happy to the viewing public, but he had a much darker side at home. We could only film during his "highs," and when the bottom dropped out, he'd hide in the mine for days, sobbing uncontrollably. Only Sleepy could get any sleep for weeks on end. Once the electroschock treatments failed and the lobotomy scar healed, we started him on Depakote. The drug worked wonders leveling out his moods. It's enabled Manic to sign a long-term deal, reunite with his long-time lover Dale, and become a productive, if highly unimaginative member of our group.

Once I tell you that Doc was neither a medical doctor, a Ph.D., or a genius, you'll understand why he was committed for much of his life. When I think back to the early years and those weekly pelvic exams, I just want to cry. Look at those wiggly fingers! Now that we've optimized his dose of Risperdal, we've renamed him Schizzy, and we no longer have to deal with piles of woodland corpses on the porch every morning.

While we enjoyed all the free meat on cold winter nights, Bambi was starting to complain. Schizzy shakes a bit now, but he's got a heart of gold, rather than an actual heart on a gold chain around his neck!

Dopey no more, thanks to the good people at Shire Pharmaceuticals and Adderall. I was sure I'd spend the rest of my life embroidering his name on every shirt, but now he's working toward his GED and actually helps the others count their morning pills! We've renamed him Addy, after the Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) that prevented him from focusing on diamonds, learning scripts, and protecting his ass in the shower. Sure, Adderall is just a mixture of amphetamines, but he and Narcky are up all night working on new projects for our production company.

And what about me? Prince Charming and I tried to make it work but I realized that I was happier with the dwarves. Thanks to the wonderful world of today's magical pharmaceuticals, my life is like a Disney movie!

A short note about cartoon character bits. Everytime I do a bit about cartoon characters, I start getting lots of visitors from search engines looking for "cartoon porn, Judy Jetson naked, or Charlie Brown and Linus teabagging." Its a great source of traffic. Of course when they get here, everyone is pretty disappointed. As a prophylatic measure (prophylatic will be good for a few hits), here's an image that may qualify as Snow White porn.

Enjoy!

Freaks and Geeks for Halloween

I had every intention of carrying on my long-held holiday tradition of watching Mel Brook's Young Frankenstein and a great scary movie. Netflix spit the bit on Young Frankenstein (it's probably showing up in my mailbox as we write) and while George Romero's original Night of the Living Dead was free "On-Demand," without the double feature it just didn't seem right.

So I popped in the Freaks and Geeks halloween episode (that I own) and created a new tradition. Every aspect of the roller coaster ride that is beeing a teen is nailed during this episode. I'm the guy in the back of that photo up there.

I was a stoned out geek throughout school. I was wasted pretty much everyday from my 14th birthday until I was 25. I was never cool enough to be a true Freak (we called them Heads where I grew up on Long Island) so I drifted uncomfortably between the Venn Diagram circles that were the Heads, Jocks, Geeks and Yuppies. So I can identify with almost every character on the show.

I actually dressed in drag with my best friend Dave to pick up my brother at the library. We didn't even have halloween as an excuse. I was driving so I must have been at least 16. It wasn't nearly as funny as Bill. Not much on television or in real life has ever been as funny as Bill.

If I ever get to make a movie, I promise to write really good parts for Bill (Martin Starr) and Neil (Sam Levine).

If you're keeping track, that movie also has a great part for Cheryl Hines.

The Favre Refrigerator

William Safire, my most loyal reader inspired this post by commenting on my last post. Thanks Bill!

A buddy that works as a PA at TMZ e-mailed me these exclusive photos of Brett and Deanna Favre's refrigerator. While appearing on Good Morning America to sell her book, Deanna explained that she is relying on faith to see her through these troubling times. She even put one of her favorite psalms from the Book of Isaiah on her refrigerator. Now, whenever she fetches her dirtbag husband a beer, she is strengthened.

Let's see what the sleeze mongers at TMZ have waiting for us.

Hmm, not very inspirational. Look, the Favre's ran out of L's. I hate when that happens.

There it is, the "Do not fear" psalm. Between you and me, most of these psalms scare the beejeezus out of me. This one is nice. God must have been having a good day.

The Favre's are a busy bunch. I hope that the TMZ guys didn't pay the maid too much for these photos. They're kind of boring.

Whoa, Junior is not much of an artist. Maybe this child should have been left behind, about three grades! Wait, I apologize, that's his old man's di... Junior's gots the internet!

Stop that! It's only Brett's niece from back east.

Deanna Favre Stands By Her Man*

Deanna Favre has faith, not in her husband Brett Favre, in Our Lord Jesus Christ. She's depending on God to see her through this crisis. Because, while God and Jesus are too busy raking leaves to attend to starving children, pedophile priests, victims of genocide, tsunamis, earthquakes, or floods, they are willing to go that extra mile for a millionaire housewife from Mississippi that is suffering because her dirtbag husband is sending pictures of his dick to hot young women. God and Son, Inc. work in mysterious ways.

How do you go from this:

To this?

This.

Funny thing is, you knew that there had to be something funny eventually, that is the point of this blog. Funny thing is, that the photo of Deanna Favre looking pissed off that every website is using today is not recent. It's from a 2008 ESPN press orgy where Brett announced one of his legendary retirements. Deanna has that look, not because her husband has been e-mailing photos of his worm to every 25 year old babe in New York but because she's horrified that the worm might be spending the fall and winter at home in Mississippi.

*The Man Deanna is standing by is not Brett, it's the J-Dog with the captital J.

Pathetic Defense of this Unfunny Bit
According to the stats, 95% of the people that come here are looking for four things:
1. Morning camel toe
2. Sandra Bullock's ass
3. C.C. Sabathia's pants
4. Photos of Brett Favre's beautiful wife.

Bristol Palin in a Monkey Suit

I woke up this morning to find that I was popular! Not as popular as a 42 year old born-again virgin that hasn't jilled off in 20 years is in Delaware. But I ain't bad. Overnight, 40 of you visited my humble blog looking for Bristol Palin in a monkey suit. There you go sweet readers! I always aim to please.
I think Bristol is wearing the pink tutu and the big bow but you never know. Would have been funny if the "girl" gorilla ripped off her costume to reveal, Mark Ballas -- but my gut tells me that would have been too edgy.

Bristol Palin is looking all tan and delicious (like a plump, juicy, glistening, golden brown turkey). I think she's enjoying the California lifestyle. More practice, less lounging by the pool, Bristol! Or your fat ass is going back north to all that ice and snow! Seriously, how is Sarah ever going to get her back home to the frozen tundra?*

Why did so many visitors desperate to see Bristol Palin in a monkey suit end up here where before this post there was no Bristol Palin in a monkey suit?

Google!
Type in "Bristol Palin monkey" and I was number 9 and number 10. Not too shabby!

Now that I actually wrote a bit about Bristol Palin in a monkey suit, I'm sure I'll plummet in the standings.

*TMZ is reporting that Sarah Palin has booked her daughter Bristol on the 4th season of the Flavor of Love. Bristol is promising to be both modest and competitive.

What Does Andy Pettitte Do Behind His Glove?

What does Andy Pettitte do behind his baseball mitt?

He reads uplifting passages from the bible. Stuff like, "Thou shalt not cheat."
He's sexting Deanna Favre.
He gently kisses the ball then pops it in his mouth -- just like he did with Bud Selig's balls.
He's making sure that his mascara is still perfect.
He's pulling a Jeter pube from between his teeth.
He practices his Brooklynese, stuff like fuhgeddaboutdit and notfanuttin, so that stupid Yankee fans keep thinking he's a goombah.
He's seeing if his hand still smells like Clemens' ass.

and the Number 1 thing that Andy Pettitte is probably doing behind his glove...

He's snorting lines of Human Growth Hormone.

Of all the hated Yankees, Andy "I love Jesus and HGH" Pettitte is my most hated, except for Jeter and A-Rod. Bible-thumping, Roger Clemen's ass-pumping, Andy "I have accepted HGH as my personal Savior" Pettitte is the patron saint of cheaters, liars and hypocrites.

DWTS - Bristol Palin, Modest or Sexy?

Bristol Palin, Paid Teen Abstinence Advocate, is a contestant on Dancing With the Stars and is doing her darndest to stay modest. That's Bristol down there lying prone on the floor, awash in pink light, her hair artfully arranged by a team of grips and bestboys.

Let's go over the definition of modest, shall we? These Shaker Sisters are my idea of modest.

Not only are these gals going to remain abstinent, so are any men that accidently gaze upon them. I'm even willing to bet big money that when these sisters get together to can pickles, not a one goes a missing. I think that's Christine O'Donnell all the way to the right.
Bristol looks less modest by comparison.

Now, if I was a total dick looking for a cheap laugh, I would slap some Candie's Foundation abstinence propaganda on that pink porno Bristol Palin photo and see how it looks.

Never let it be said that I am unwilling to go for a cheap laugh or that I'm not a total dick.

But Bristol's mom, Sarah would say that we're looking at her daughter with corrupt and evil, East Coast media ivy league bias not heartland, middle America righteous stuff. What do the good people of the prairie see when they look at this image?

Jesus Christ! Really? Damn, I am evil, I live on the East Coast and I get poison ivy all the time. I guess Bristol Palin is modest.


Wait, just one Iowa cornhusking minute! Even the most righteous Idaho Mormons have to admit that Bristol looks like she just dragged herself out of a damp bed after a good pounding. Her outfit and her after-sex hairdo is so sexy, it makes the dancer dude look straight. I don't think the good Sisters of New Lebanon would approve but my dick sure does.

Bristol Palin, modest or sexy?

Brett Favre's Junk

I haven't actually seen Brett Favre's junk because I'm at work and deadspin is blocked. But I have heard endless hours of penis discussion on sports talk radio, so I think have a pretty good idea what it looks like. Am I close?

Phil Spector's hair and an old turkey neck -- grizzled, gray, wrinkled and floppy.

If I was Brett Favre and I was going to use photos of my dick to snag a hot babe, I would spend some time getting my dick ready before I took the photo. First, I would clean all the pigshit off of it. Brett is always covered in pigshit. Next, I would trim my pubes high and tight. Then, I would rub in some oil so it was nice and shiny and get it as big and as engorged as possible. If I was Brett Favre, I would take 15 seconds and just look at my wife, Deanna, because she is drop dead gorgeous.

That's Brett Favre with his beautiful wife, Deanna. I'm hard already.

After all my preparation, when my dick was looking its very best, kinda like this:

I'd take a photo of it and send it to Jenn Sterger. If you are going after a trophy catch, you have to use the right bait. You can't just wiggle an old worm in front of her face and expect her to bite. Hmm, ouch.

Damn, that Jenn Sterger is so hot she reminds me of Deanna Favre!!!

Wow, they could be twins -- if Deanna Favre was 15 years younger... They really do look a like.

Wait one minute, is a 40-year old Brett Favre trying to date his wife when she was 25?

How to Draw John Bolton in a Suit

First, you sort of sketch in the colors using cheap, magic markers that get darker when you overlap your strokes.
Then you draw a pretty damn good John Bolton with the best black pen you can steal from work.

Then you put the two together and you get a naked John Bolton which is pretty good but is not the goal of this exercise.

Finally, you draw a suit over the naked John Bolton making all the work you did getting his saggy man boobs and unsightly body hair perfect -- a total waste of time. But that's okay, cause National Lampoon is going to pay you $500 for the effort.*


That is not a skirt. You weren't going to see the bottom of the guy so you got a little lazy.

*But then National Lampoon passes on the bit because it's too UN-AMERICAN!!!**

**Yeah, okay, it was un-American but it was also incredibly racist and misogynistic, and it was full of dick and fart jokes, which more than made up for the un-patriotic stuff.