The Inventor's Museum

THE INVENTOR'S MUSEUM
Back in 1968, a clerk in the United States patent office had a vision. That vision involved the creation of a National Museum of Inventors operated and staffed completely by brunette women wearing nothing but motor oil and handcuffs. Well, that clerk was soon fired and forced to leave the country. Nevertheless, an official Museum of Inventors was eventually built in Tupleo, Mississippi. Of course, there are no brunette women in motor oil and handcuffs at the Museum, but check in any other business or home in Tupelo and you're sure to find a few dozen. What you will find here are the famous, and not so famous inventors. Let's look at a few!

W.F. Libby- He came from humble farmland beginnings, where his pointed feet served him well in his job as "apprentice plow". One day, while whittling an ear of corn into a short-wave radio, he discovered the secrets of isotopic radiation. Initially affected somewhat aversely by the radiation, he spent the next two days teaching a rooster to speak Dutch. He then developed the methods of Radiocarbon dating as well as breeding the unpopular Kangarooster.

Emille Pushnov- Russian sociologist who tried unsuccessfully to prove that subconsciously "everybody wants a pinch." He was subsequently beaten to death by cossacks.

Henry Ford- You already know that he invented the automobile, but did you know that he originally intended it as a machine for killing Jews? It's true!

Willard Harrison Bennett- He invented the radio frequency mass spectrometer and pioneered the sport of plasma wrestling, which was briefly popular in the mid-60's among Methodists and accountants.

Luis Walter Alvarez invented a radio distance and direction indicator. During World War II, he designed a landing system for aircrafts and a radar system for locating planes. Later, he helped develop the hydrogen bubble chamber, used to detect subatomic particles. This research led to the discovery of over 70 elementary particles and resulted in a major revision of nuclear theories. But, did he ever really learn how to love?

Enrico Fermi- In 1934, while studying beta ray admissions in Rome, he became the first man to split the atom. When he realized what he had done, Fermi became embarrassed and changed the subject, asking his colleagues what they thought of donuts, and then suddenly "remembered" that he had a dentist's appointment. When asked later if he had split the atom, Fermi replied, "What? Who me? Don't be ridiculous! Did YOU split the atom? I didn't split the atom." Eventually, somebody realized that atomic fission had practical applications and Fermi is reported to have said, "Oh that atom!"

William Seward Burroughs Sr.- The elder Burroughs moved to Saint Louis as a child and never became a heroin junkie homosexual novelist who accidentally shot and killed his wife while pretending to be William Tell. Eventually, his studies led William Seward Burroughs Sr. to invent the world's first practical adding and listing machine and never to write any satirical novels about giant centipedes having anal sex with young Mexican boys. Most scientists agree that his son was a lot "cooler".

Stephanie Louise Kwolek- Aren't girls silly? This ditzy dame absent-mindedly pioneered low-temperature processes for the preparation of condensation polymers and did experiments that resulted in hundreds of new polymers, including Kapton polyimide film, and Nomex aramid polymer and fiber. In between shopping and gabbing on the phone, she also carried out experiments to make stronger and stiffer fibers, and discovered an amazing branch of polymer science-liquid crystalline polymers. The most famous product of her discovery was Kevlar, a polymer fiber five times stronger than the same weight of steel. Her name appears on 17 patents, which no doubt impresses the boys!

Heinrich Roher- Since the invention of the first microscope, scientists have hoped to discover a race of miscroscopic people living in a utopia that resembles a cross between ancient Greece and a gay-friendly roller-skating rink on "Bikini Night" or, at the very least, a "Miniature Monkey Hula Party". Heinrich Roher further destroyed this dream with his 1981 invention of the scanning tunneling microscope (STM), which provided the first non-utopian roller-rink images of individual atoms on the surfaces of materials. Bastard.

Wake up Hollywood!

Some loony recently posed the question in the local paper: “When is Hollywood going to get the picture and start making movies that regular Americans want to see?” The guy was upset because he felt that Hollywood should be making more movies like The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, or as I like to call it, “that gay cowboy movie”.

But, then I started thinking, and you know maybe Hollywood really is out of touch. I mean, it’s like they have no idea at all what we average Americans want to see in a movie. For one thing, it’s been twenty years that he’s been around and Mr. T has never had a sex scene? Hello Hollywood! And you really can’t find any way to have Meryl Streep do the Mexican hat dance in a movie? For shame! And there’s really no producer left who’s willing to take a chance on the edgy comedy of Alf? What is going on here?! And you know Million Dollar Baby was a great movie and all, but why aren’t there more movies that end with poodles saving the day?

Look Hollywood, I know you’re busy so I’m just going to lay it out for you. Here’s the ultimate movie scenario:

Christopher Walken and Christina Ricci are at the malt shop together on a date when in steps a raptor, stinking of cheap rum and acting like he’s the cock of the walk. This doesn’t sit well with Walken, especially when one of the raptors challenges him to a dance off. Thinking quickly, Walken tries to do the Mexican hat dance, but loses to the raptor, who starts making out with Christina Ricci. Who is naked.

Realizing that the raptors are ruining his town, Butte, Montana, Walken gets in touch with a crack squad of crime-fighting cats, The Fantasticats, to take down the raptors. The Fantasticats get to work, dusting the area for prints and leaping through the air. Meanwhile, Alf is drunk again, and he’s edgy as hell.

There’s a scene here with the ancient Roman navy taking on aliens, to give the whole thing a back story, and then Mr. T shows up and fights the raptors. It seems like he’s going to lose, but then Tommy the poodle, thinking quickly, unties a sandbag that falls on the raptor’s head, killing it. Before the movie ends (so that we can get an Oscar) Alf reveals that he is gay, and hiding his pain through alcohol, and the Fantasticats reveal that they are alcoholics, who are covering by pretending to be gay.

Meanwhile, something is going on between Christina Ricci and Mr. T. I don’t know what it is, but it’s sure sexy!

Just in Time for Christmas

The First Christmas: A Sketch

Scene: Jerusalem- the Eve before Jesus is to be crucified. The last supper.
Characters: Jesus, Mark, John, and the newly-hired apostle, Larry.

Props: Well, mostly just a table.

Jesus is addressing his followers on the evening before he is to be executed by the Romans. The mood is somewhat somber, but this is a party after all.

Jesus: So, then John the Baptist says, “I don’t know Lady. Does it look like a watermelon?”!
(They all laugh uproariously.)

Mark: That’s a great story, Jesus.

Jesus: Yes, well… seriously though, I guess you know why I called you all here. Unfortunately, I think we really do need to talk about this whole crucifixion thingamabob.

John the Baptist: If we must, my Lord.

Jesus: I guess you guys know that I am to be put to death tomorrow.

John the Baptist: Yes, we understand.

Larry: Why? WHY, WHY, WHY?! DAMMMIT!! Those BASTARDS!!

Jesus: Larry, relax!

Larry: I know! It’s just-

Jesus: Seriously, just take a deep breath Larry.

Larry: I’m sorry, I just get upset.

Jesus: Look, we all know that you’re the new guy here, but just chill out. We all knew I was supposed to give my life for the world. It’s in the job description, okay? Now, we have to stay fierce.

Jesus, Mark, and John: East Jerusalem!! (Flashing gang sign)

Jesus: Okay, so I know this seems sad for some of you… newer apostles. But, really this will be a victory for the world. A cleansing, if you will.

John: We understand, Lord.

Jesus: But, I don’t want the memory of my life to fade after I am gone.

Mark: We understand, Lord.

Jesus: So, I’m going to want you to do something to remember the day of my birth, even after I have departed.

John the Baptist: Oooh! How about a burnt sacrifice?

Mark: Oh, those are great. I love burnt sacrifices! We’ll go down to the store and get some beer and some beasts of cloven hoof, and maybe some onion dip...

Larry: I know! Why don’t we burn a zebra? We’ve never done that before!

Mark: I don’t know; are you sure that’s not too glitzy?

Larry: No! It’s very dignified! We’ll burn a zebra for our dead homie.

Larry, Mark, and John: East Jerusalem!!

Jesus: Look, fellows, I think this date will call for something more than a burnt sacrifice. I had this vision last night about it. Just go with me here, okay?

Mark: Of course, Master.

(They lean in closer and get quiet and solemn.)

Jesus: What I’m thinking is, we get a tree, right? Then we cover it with colored glass balls.

Larry: What???

Jesus: Well, to symbolize the burden that I’ve carried on this earth. (pause) Oh, and write this down, “get some popcorn on a string and put that on too”.

Mark: Jesus, are you sure this is sacred?

Jesus: Yes, of course. A tree with balls is the most sacred thing you can offer.

John the Baptist: Are you sure you don’t want to lay off on the wine a little.

Jesus: No, don’t be silly! Okay, here’s what I was also thinking, howsabout parents make offerings to their children, but only if they’ve been good, and only offerings which are expensive?

Mark: Well…

Jesus: This was my vision. Okay, but the thing is, the parents will lie to the children and tell them that a kind and magical man has brought them these toys.

Larry: Then, when the kids are relaxed… BAM! We take their money!

Jesus: Larry, please.

Larry: Okay, sorry Jesus.

Mark: And that “man” will be you?

Jesus: No, I was thinking somebody like me, but fatter.

Larry: Fatter, my Lord?

Jesus: Yes fatter. And jollier too. I want people to remember my sacrifice, but you know, it’s so depressing. A fat guy with a beard is just a lot funnier, really. But, he has to have a beard like mine.

Mark: Oh yeah, the beard is nice.

Jesus: You like the beard?

Mark: Oh yeah, it’s swarthy, but sexy too.

Jesus: Didn’t you like it when I had just the handlebar moustache?

Mark: Nah, not really. It made you look like a riverboat blackjack dealer.

Jesus: Yeah, but you guys all said you liked it! Judas over there said it was a thing of beauty!

John: Well, we were blowing smoke up your ass a little.

Jesus: Guys! You can’t do that! I need to know these things! I don’t want to die a virgin! I mean, it was really that bad?

Mark: Master, it looked like two rats had climbed up your nose.

Jesus: Okay, fine. No stouche. Anyway, let’s get back to my holy day of balled trees and fat toy givers.

John: Yeah… that’s an… interesting holiday…

Mark: But, is this fat guy stuff religious at all?

Jesus: Yes! This is what my life means! You’re asking me what does my life mean, and I’m telling you, it’s this! This is what my life means! A fat guy with a beard who sticks expensive toys under a tree with balls on it, and who can fly.

John: He can FLY?!

Jesus: Well, no. He has these hooved animals that can fly and who carry him around.

Mark: Does he burn these animals?

Jesus: No! No more burning animals! Just a fat guy with flying deer and a tree with balls, and maybe some robots.

John: Robots?!

Jesus: Okay, well maybe I’m getting carried away there. Robots are just not feasible.

Mark: No, seriously. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get robots? Especially now? In the desert?

Jesus: Yeah, I know. Sometimes I get a little loopy when it’s late like this.

John the Baptist: No, it’s okay.

Jesus: Oh, but I do have to get to the midgets!

Mark: Midgets, my Lord?

Jesus: Well, yeah. To make the toys.

John: For the fat guy?

Jesus: Yes, well or elves. That’s how he gets the toys- the elves would work for the fat man and make toys for the children. They’d work all day for free.

Larry: Are these elves stupid, my Lord?

Jesus: Well, I don’t think so.

Mark: Larry, pay attention. This is all bullshit anyway.

John: Yeah, it’s just a story to blow smoke up the children’s asses.

Jesus: It’s a wonderful lie!

Larry: Yeah, but isn’t lying a sin?

Mark: Oh, but everything’s a sin! Lying, graven images, adultery- I mean there’s nothing you can do without pissing off somebody!

Jesus: Besides, yes you’re right Larry that Moses said that lying was a sin, BUT he also said that lying to children doesn’t count.

Larry: Right, but why don’t we tell them about you and your deeds?

Jesus: I just think that stuff is depressing. I mean, I don’t people to get all hung up thinking that this holiday is about me, or my life, or religious devotion.

Larry: When really it’s about midgets?

Jesus: Yes! And fat guys who can fly, and trees with balls! And perhaps a talking snowman who runs from the cops.

Mark: The simple things.

Larry: I don’t know if I understand.

Jesus: You don’t have to understand Larry. Just copy all this down.

Larry: Well, I lost my pad and stylus.

Mark: You idiot!

Larry: No, but don’t worry; I can remember all this.

Mark: Okay, so you want some midgets. Thy will be done. Etc. Etc.

Jesus: But, I had another vision.

Larry: Yes, Master?

Jesus: But, first, remember these words; “Every rose has its thorn. Just as every night has its dawn.”

Mark: That’s beautiful.

Jesus: Okay! So, my vision- there was a city several generations from now. The city is filled with millions of people, all of them hustling, and bustling and writing first-person autobiographical plays. None of them able to find parking or long-term romantic relationships.

Mark: I had this vision too.

Jesus: Really?

Mark: You’re talking about New York.

Jesus: Yes, what did you think of the vision?

Mark: Ach, it’s overrated.

Jesus: Anyway, there will be a parade there with giant inflatable animals and people dressed like animals, and the whole thing will be quite sacred, if viewed through the effects of drink!

Larry: It sounds glorious!

Jesus: Well, Larry it will be. But, here is where the Devil will show himself to the world. He will come to test them in the 2003rd year after my birth.

Mark: Won’t they recognize Satan though?

Jesus: No, for you see he will not present himself as a beast.

Mark: He won’t.

Jesus: No, old scratch is too clever for that. Instead, he will present himself in the parade as a large inflatable orange cat who loves lasagna.

John: Okay, Jesus you’ve even lost me here.

Jesus: That’s okay. The prophecy is not for you.

(He starts addressing the audience now, quite dramatically)
Future generations will have to destroy the inflatable cat! Do you hear me? For the love of all that is good find the orange inflatable cat “Garfield” at the Macy’s Parade and DESTROY IT before its EVIL infests future generations!!!

-The lights go out dramatically-

Stupid People

Listen, I’m all for stupid people. They’re fun to drink with and generally interesting to listen to. I like to watch them do stupid things like poking a hornet’s nest with a stick or chasing a tire rolling down a hill and just laugh and laugh at them while sipping my lemonade and taking Polaroids. But, sometimes I feel as if maybe, just maybe, things have gotten a little bit too stupid for my tastes. Do you ever feel that way? Like if Fox comes out with one more show like “When Tongues Explode” or “America’s Smoking Cats” the hell-mouth is just going to open up and swallow us all.

It’s never good when a culture becomes too stupid. History has shown us time and time again that this is exactly when evil geniuses in vaguely homoerotic Vegas-style costumes come and try to freeze the city with some sort of weather manipulating machine, or at the very least blast the crap out of everything with a death-ray attached to their arm. Then, of course, the idiots band together and form a special Executive Commission to try to poke the evil genius with a stick, or at least provide a cost-analysis graph of the pros and cons of stick-pokery, and the evil genius melts them, while screaming something like “Your weakness only makes me grow stronger!” or “Your stick is no match for my blasts of molten IRON!!” This is exactly what happened to all the stupid nations throughout history, like Sweden for example.

The worst part is you never really know if you’re stupid too. I mean, there’s never been a point at which Britney Spears has said: “I think in this next video I should play a sexy podiatrist and… Wait, you know what y’all; I’m really stupid!” Stupid people have no idea. I started worrying about this and started thinking that maybe I should hang out with smarter people to find out if I could match up. My wife Claire suggested:
“Why don’t you get in touch with Mensa?’
“Because I don’t like young boys!” I huffed.
“No, Mensa is for smart people. You just take an IQ test and, if you score over a certain level, they let you in.”
“Yeah, but how can I take an IQ test?”
“A psychiatrist gives it to you.”
“Great! Where am I going to find a psychiatrist?!”
“You know, on second thought, maybe Mensa’s not such a good idea.”
“Wait! Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked.
“No.”
“I’ll form my own Mensa!” It was easy. All I had to do was take out a Classified ad in our local paper, The Toronto Beaver-Teeth. It read: “Are you tired of all those other Mensas? Sick of being turned down for having a low IQ, no IQ, or IQ problems in the past? Join a new kind of Mensa! Rufus F.’s Mensa Madness!” We started holding meetings at the local bowling alley where we would eat brie and discuss important issues, whiling away the hours together.
“It’s always weird for me when they’re taking my picture and the guy says ‘Cheese!’ because I look around, but there’s never any cheese there.”
“How right you are, Reginald. Sometimes the most beautiful sort of cheese is actually the ugliest.” That was me, smarter than hell. We started making tee-shirts that said, “I’m in Mensa, Stupid!” and working on a weather-distortion machine.
Eventually, the other Mensa called me.
“Hello, this is Mensa, Stupid!” I said. That was how I answered the phone.
“Uh, no, this is Mensa. We need to talk about you using our trademark name.” The rest of the conversation was boring legalese, which would interest no one. He explained that Mensa was a specific organization and therefore had legal right to preserve the name Mensa, and I followed a precedent set by the Harvard Law Review and cried.
Eventually, I did talk them into letting me come to real Mensa meetings. They told me that they were not going to make a death-ray, and if I wanted to be there, I had to sit in the back and not talk. Also, I have to bring a stick. This week we’re poking a hornet’s nest and discussing Mahler.

American Education

The time is high to talk about the state of American education. Well, maybe not high exactly, but it’s ten’ o’clock in the morning and I usually try to get these things done by yesterday and apparently I have celebrated the Halloween weekend (yes, they celebrate Halloween in Canada too) by drinking quite a bit of gin (for religious reasons mostly), and now I have to write something, so we might as well beat the hell out of that old dead horse once again and write the sixteen millionth “aren’t today’s high school kids frigging stupid?” article in history. So, let’s not mince words- today’s students are fat, uneducated, psychotic, and charge entirely too much for drugs. This worries me deeply. I strongly believe that children are our greatest natural resource and that we should begin drilling them for uranium immediately.

That aside, it’s obvious that schools are not doing their job. Did you know that in a national survey, two out of four High School students didn’t know that America won the Civil War? I mean, they thought it was the Germans. I mean, we bombed the hell out of the Germans at Hiroshima and that made no impression on them? And, when polled, four out of five American students didn’t know about Pearl Harbor, or the fact that, if she hadn’t given up her seat on that bus, the entire Gay Rights movement never would have gotten started.

Of course, I realize that not everyone can be like myself and be blessed with a “near-average I.Q.” Not everyone will have the chance to read Ulysses in the original Spanish. But, Today’s textbooks don’t deal with the problems that Generation Todd will face in the real world. Things like crime, drugs, and bottom-kneading space lobsters aren’t even mentioned in most textbooks. I try to tell the educators this, but they say that I’m “crazy” and “irresponsible” and “trespassing on school property”. But, I say this, when your kids are having their buttocks kneaded by flying space lobsters from outer space, I’ll be the one who’s laughing then!!

You know, this situation reminds me of the words of William Shakespeare, who once wrote, “One pill makes you larger, and the other one makes you small, and the ones that mother gives you don’t do anything at all.” Let’s hope that people don’t come to say the same thing about American education.

Of course, I can understand the deficiencies that many students have. As a history grad student, I admit that I have a surprising lack of knowledge about history at all, and frequently find myself in awkward situations in which I have to appear knowledgeable. People love to ask us about the most obscure events imaginable. “Hey, so what do you think of Rodderick the Orange of Ullster and his role in writing the MacNulty Treaty? Seriously. Don’t mince words, Mr. Smartyman.” If you draw a blank whilst discussing history, there are two tricks you can rely on.
#1: Simply change the subject with, “Meanwhile, in Germany, dark storm clouds of war were gathering.” This pretty much works in any era. If you happen to be discussing Germany already, simply say, "Meanwhile, somewhere else in Germany, dark storm clouds of war were gathering."
#2: Say something so illogical that they won’t be able to wrap their heads around it. “Well, Rodderick, I think, in many ways, prefigured the later Canadian Inquisition.” Let ‘em try to imagine that one.

Canadian: “So, uh… are you a um, witch, eh? You don’t want us to be impolite with you, do you? We can do it. Speak loudly even. Seriously, eh? How would you like to have to pay for your own health care?”

This is what scientists call “mimicry”. Many species survive by faking stuff. The caterpillar, for example, mimics the pipe cleaner. Pipe cleaners, of course, have absolutely nothing to do with cleaning pipes and everything to do with making little, fuzzy men.

Rufus: I would like to buy fifty-seven boxes of pipe cleaners.

Storekeeper: Wow! You must have a lot of pipes!

Rufus: No, I have a whole lot of roaches and those bastards aren’t going to expect an army of little, fuzzy men.

Storekeeper: Man, you are an idiot.

Rufus: That may be so, but I know a lot of little, fuzzy men who would beg to differ with you. By the way, you are the worst pipe cleaner salesman I have ever met.

Anyway, I think that covers education quite well. Meanwhile, in Germany…

Children

I think every child is a miracle. But, especially the ones who have the face of Jesus.

To Whom it May Concern

I'm very sorry that I smashed into your Jaguar in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly on Turnblatt Avenue today. Would it help to know that I was acutally preparing for my upcoming role in "Car Smasher 2: The Smashening"?

If I was Glenn Close, I'd be drunk all the time

If I was Glenn Close, I'd be drunk all the time. I mean, think about it- you're Glenn Close. You've been in serious films like Jagged Edge and The Big Chill. You've been nominated for five academy awards. And you've proven that you can do comedy in Mars Attacks! and 101 Dalmations. Now, it's time to take the edge off with a good stiff bottle of Jack Daniels Tennessee Whiskey. Also, if I was Glenn Close, I'd have dirty sex with my Peruvian gardeners; take two or three of them at the same time. And, as I looked down at them lying on the floor in a sweaty naked Peruvian pile, I'd holler: "Who am I? I'm Glenn fucking Close, that's who I am!"

If I was Sarah Jessica Parker, I'd become a stripper in Cold Water Arkansas. People would ask me if I was preparing for a role, and I'd say, "Yeah, that's it." But, really I'd have no idea what I was doing.

If I was John Malcovich, I'd beat Glenn Close to death with a hammer, and if I was Steve Buscemi, I'd want to turn in my friend John Malcovich, but I'd be too afraid that the world would blame me.

If I was P.Diddy, I'd re-release Biggie Small's album , completely unchanged, but with my name on the front, as a tribute to Biggie. Also, I'd change my name to Biggie Smalls.

And if I was Glenn Close, I'd sleep with all of them. Except for John Malcovich, who I would beat to death with a hammer.

Bad Childhood

I got into a lot of trouble when I was a kid. Probably more than most. By eight years old I was already $40,000 in debt with the ice-cream man. When you get that deep in debt with those guys... well, let's just say their good humor runs out pretty quick...

I started getting these threatening letters written in sprinkles.

Ben & Jerry issues a fatwa condemninng me to die.

Guys started trying to do drive-by shootings on me. It really didn't work though because I'd start running as soon as I heard "All Around the Mulberry Bush".

So, my life is basically at stake. My mother, who has no sense of perspective, keeps reminding me that she always warned me about between-meal snacking.

Finally, we get the FBI involved and they say that they can help me with these guys, but they make no promises as far as fighting tooth decay goes.

This guy calls me and he's from the Italian Ice Company and he's calling me a rat and all and the FBI guy tells me to try and stall him so they can run a trace on the call. So, I'm asking him about his day and he's telling me about that.
So, then I ask: "What do you think of Kant's categorical imperative?" Admittedly, a little precocious.

So, he says that he thinks an action can be considered good even if it doesn't constitute a universal axiomatic imperative for all men. Besides, the necessity of an act can be caused by the physical reality and not by any a priori synthetic judgement.

So, then we start fighting about that. A week later, the Columbia University Philosophy Department condemns me to die.

Eventually, I have to join the Witness Relocation Program. They let me make up my new identity, so I start over in a new town as an eight-year old retired tennis pro named Rodderick Gladstone.

Talk Radio

Setting: A radio station studio. An angry male talk-radio host is on the air.

Host: Hey, gang! This is Randy Collins and you're listening to KROC! It's 2:00 on Monday afternoon and we're getting you through the drive home with tough-talking radio. Listen up America! This is where we tell it like it is! This is "Self Loathing Radio". So, if you hate yourself, don't like yourself, or just can't stand the way you dress, call us!
But first... I gotta get to something that's really been bothering me lately, and that's Randy Collins! What an idiot! Am I right? Who in their right mind schedules a call-in show for Monday at 2:00? Like people in their car want to talk about their self-loathing! Look folks, somebody has to say it- I am a moron! God, it's enough to make you sick!
Okay, first caller, go ahead.

Caller 1: Hi Randy, this is Shiela Patrick. I'm a longtime listener.

Host: Well, I don't know why. But, go ahead.

Caller 1: I just wanted to call about something really stupid I saw myself do at the grocery store yesterday. I was in the five items or less line, and I had seven items! What the hell did I think I was pulling? I mean, what have I come to? God, I'm an idiot!

Host: Alright, well I'm sure you don't suck as much as I do. Okay, next caller!

Caller 2: Yeah, Randy. This is Jack Johnson and I just want to say something about the way Jack Johnson drives- it's terrible. I weave in and out of traffic, and I have no idea how to apply a brake softly. I'd just like to send a message out to myself- Jack, learn to drive, you freaking jerk!

Host: Okay, well glad to hear that. Next caller!

Caller 3: Randy, I am a radio host much like yourself and I am so damn annoying you'd crawl through broken glass to get away from me. I have a stunted personality and I make up for it by blathering on like a gaseous mule with rabies! I call this the no-spin zone, but honestly I'm a Republican aparatchik with an axe to grind the size of Nebraska.

Host: Well, that is interesting caller. Why do you think that is?

Caller 3: I blame the liberals. Damn liberals! I am so sick of the liberal media and its lies, and liberal gravity forcing us to be earth-bound, and the liberal sun! It's always following me around! Why I-

Host: Caller, caller, caller! You're missing the point. We allow callers to complain about themselves and me, but that's it! Okay, next caller!

Caller 4: Great show, Randy.

Host: Well, it would be... if wasn't for me. I'm a festering bucket of snot! Go ahead caller!

Caller 4: Yeah, Randy, someone has got to teach me how to put out my damn garbage! Because I get it all over my neighbor's yard every single week! And it's not like he doesn't work for a living! Unlike me, he has a damn job!

Host: Thanks for the straight shooting caller. Well, gang this is Randy Collins, but I wish I wasn't. And this was "Self-Loathing Radio"- Remember, if you think you blow, let us know. I'm going to go now and do some other stupid thing and humiliate my parents even more than I already have. Now, here's a track from Nirvana!

This Just In

"World's Greatest Grandpa" Stripped of Title After Lewd Sockless-Sandal Pictures Surface on Internet

Marriage

Life is strange. One day you wake up and you're someone's husband. And she hasn't the slightest idea. But, screw it, because this is Pakistan and you're drunk.

This Just in

"Play-Doh Can't be Trusted" Reports American Institute of Crazy Doctors

Me

Like you know how Jesus was about lepers and loin cloths? I'm that into nudity!

Less Famous Last Words

"Uuuunngghhh..." -Teddy Roosevelt

"EEEEKKKKK!!!" -Jane Mansfield

(Choke)(Sputter)(Wheeze)(Gasp) -Albert Camus

(Hacking cough)(Death rattle) -Betty Davis

"Ohhh..." -Roy Rogers

"Those guys will never find me in this old abandonned refrigerator!" -Some stupid kid

"Oh shit!! A mountain!!" -Buddy Holly

"Nnnoooo!!" -The Big Bopper

"Ooofff!!" -John F. Kennedy

"AAAARRRGGHHH!!" -Ernie Kovacs

"NO! OW! STOP! NO!!!" -Bob Crane

"Oh FUCK!!!" -Patsy Cline

"AAAAHHHHH!!!!!" -Hank Williams

Me again

I mean waaaay into nudity.

Rejected Tourism Slogans

Czechoslovakia- We're winning the war on happiness!

Come to England and be tolerated, grudgingly!

Come! Visit America! But, don't try anything funny...

Come to the former Soviet Union and enter the 'Name our Country Contest'.

Argentina- We're going out of business and everything must go!

Germany: Where history comes alive... and is quickly hushed up.

Australia- We're the Vin Diesel of countries!

Come to France. You know the naked ladies? And the wall with the hole in it? All true.

Japan- like Hell, only closer.

Scicily- You got a thing you need fixed? We know a guy who can fix the thing. You know?

If you must molest children, do it in Thailand!

Come to Poland! We put the "fun" in "vacation"!

Amsterdam: Like waking up with your pants around your knees in a puddle of happiness.

Come ta Ireland if ya want ta! We don't need yer feckin charity!

Don't mind us... we're Canada!

Come to Scandinavia and bask in the bleakness.

Video Dating

So, I went to a video-dating service recently, and I know a lot of people like to make fun of that. But, you know what? Caddyshack and I are in love.

About me

How to describe myself- I'm a lot like Superman really. But, way into nudity.

Counting

There are two kinds of people in this world. There are those who can count and those who can't count. And there are those who think that they can count, but really they can't count. And then there's Larry. That man could count like the wind. He could've gone pro. Then he had the boating accident. He drove his truck into a boat. Now, whenever he says the word "eight", he giggles.

Poems

I think that I shall never see/ A poem as lovely as a tree.
You hear that poems? You suck!Congratulations on ruining your sister's birthday!

Secret Admirer

I think somone has a crush on me- a secret admirer... Could it be true, or is it those cruel adjunct professors playing a joke on me again?

God

I have a really hard tme believing in God. I think it's because, when He talks to me, often He is wearing a plastic Halloween mask and speaking through a megaphone. And He's telling me to make my roommate a sandwich.

Memories

A lot has changed since my wife Ellen died. Our lovemaking for example. While it's still as frequent as it used to be, it's not as public.