Ding Dong, The Wicked Witch Is Dead

Today we're just gonna interview Saddam Hussein during his stay in heaven.

IANO: "Before we begin would you like to get comfortable and take off your jacket?"

SADDAM: "Sure...I'll just hang it up over there."

IANO: "So now that you're dead and here in heaven do you think you'll take up any hobbies?"

SADDAM: "Yup...thinking of taking up hang gliding."

IANO: "Anything else?"

SADDAM: "Maybe...but mostly I'll just hang around."

IANO: "You have a pretty nice suite here...gonna make any changes?"

SADDAM: "I'll probably hang some new curtains."

IANO: "Thats it?"

SADDAM: "Oh, maybe some hanging plants over near that window."

IANO: "Any thoughts on Hillary or John Kerry?"

SADDAM: "I'd hate to hang around with either of them."

IANO: What was it about Kerry you hated?"

SADDAM: "Dude was one ugly bastard....he had that hang dog look on his face all the time."

IANO: "Any American TV shows up here?"

SADDAM: "Hangin' With Mr. Cooper."

IANO: "Any movies?"

SADDAM: "Hang 'em High"

IANO: "Any regrets about your time in power?"

SADDAM: ::::hangs head::::

:::phone rings:::

SADDAM: "Hang on...I'm coming"

::: Answers phone::: "Do you have Prince Uday in a can?"

SADDAM: :: hangs up::

IANO: One last question....is it true when you get hung you get an erection?"

SADDAM: "nope....it just hangs there."

IANO: "Thank you for your time, Mr. Hussein."

SADDAM: "Death to America"

My Time In The Pokey.

Very few people know this, but Hoag and I got sent to prison (me for buying a Plymouth...Hoag for shopping in WalMart) in the late 1990s. Republican Prison...and it was HORRIBLE!

One time the bidet was broken and it took over TWO hours to fix it!

And we had to wear orange jump suits while golfing. We're still shaken up.

Speaking of golf...how about the horror, the HORROR of no cup holders in the golf cart? You think you could survive that? HA!

The shrimp cocktails only came with four shrimp. It sucked. But we were learning our lesson.

They wouldn't let us use our preprogrammed phone numbers on our cell phones. We had to punch in each 7 digit phone number! Plus area code! With our fingers!

Wine was limited to Merlot and Pinot Grigio (no colder than 45 degrees!!). THE BASTARDS!

Hoag wasn't allowed cuff links or his trademark paisley ascot.

And did I mention the cruel and unusual punishment of just getting down TO the prison? First we had to fly down to Miami and then get on this HUGE white Prison Boat (I think it was called the Royal Republican. Or something.) which took us to this remote Prison Island...Grand Bahama Something or other. I'm still freakin' out.

Finally after two grueling weeks they released us.

I'll never, ever even say the words Plymouth again. And Hoag still doesn't know what made him enter that WalMart on that fateful day...

I HEART The Holocaust

For Christmas my daughter gave me a book named NIGHT. It was about the Holocaust and this guy Wiesel who survived the concentration camps. I'm fascinated by the Holocaust and have read dozens of books about it.

So after we opened presents and had some breakfast I dove on the couch and read the book (it's fairly thin...the book, not the couch)

Horrible, horrible stuff happens to this guy but it doesn't seem to bother him. All he thinks about the whole time is getting one more ration of bread and one more ration of this watered down potato soup. Torture and experiments and beatings and death and all this guy can think about is another ration of stale bread and crappy soup. This went on for a few years for him. Bread. Soup. His whole stinking life revolved around that. He thought of nothing else. Bread. Soup. He'd make 'trades' for another ration of bread. Do favors for another ration of water soup. He dreamt about crusts of bread and gray soup. Someone would die next to him and he thought of stealing their ration. Soup and bread. Bread and soup.

Retard.

If I was there in that camp I'd be making trades for lasagna and pork chops. Pancakes and cookies. Bacon sandwiches. Crisp red delicious apples. I'd be dreaming about corn on the cob drenched in butter and covered in salt. Mashed potatoes. I'd be wheelin'' and dealin' my shoes for a rib eye on scalloped potatoes covered in beef gravy. I'd be shining Nazi shoes for country fried chicken. "I'll trade you my blanket for that Sweet Potato Pie" and on and on....

But this dude Wiesel thought only of stale bread and pale soup. And only did favors and trades for bread and soup. Heck, maybe that's just what he liked to eat. I shouldn't judge his poor taste in food.

Very strange.

I also thought it strange that I got a book about the death of millions of Jews on the day we celebrate the birth of one Jew.

Why don't Christians celebrate the birth of a Christian?

Retards.

(I don't actually HEART the Holocaust...I just HEART reading about it)

The Death of an American

One last glorious week.

One week. That's it.

And then....suicide watch.

One last glorious week. Tributes. Larry King. Maybe Conan.

And then suicide watch.

You see...President Ford died last night and now Chevy Chase will have one last flurry of attention and then he'll fade forever into oblivion.

One last glorious week.

We hardly knew you Chevy. You did one, maybe two funny things in your life and now its all over.

One last glorious week.

Moral of the story?

Whip Inflation Now.


PS:

I Aint No Oprah and you're not.

Happy Two Days After Christmas Eve!

Well, Christmas is over!

So much stuff packed into a couple of days. What is blog worthy? My kids were nervous over everything they said thinking I might make fun of them (NEVER!)

Do I mentioned drunken relatives? Or lame gifts?

Nope.

The post Christmas blog award goes to Wifey.

For no particular reason she just fell down. She tried to downplay it by saying stuff like : "Don't you ever fall down?" (NO) and "I just lost my balance...no big deal" (it was)

Well, guess what? It is a big deal when you're her age and you start falling down for no real reason. She could break a hip or something.

I think she's 'on the way out'. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I'll be taking applications come springtime.

Women only please.

Bad Joke. Good Joke.

BAD JOKE:

Two elephants are sitting in a bathtub when the first one asks the second one to "Please pass the soap."

The other elephant responds: "No soap, radio."

GOOD JOKE:

Joe Barbera (1/2 of the famed cartoon team of Hanna-Barbera) died the other day. The funeral procession will consist of just driving by the same three building for a half an hour on a Saturday morning.

----------------------------

Whatcha got?

The First Annual Jesus As Santa Claus Limerick That You'll Have To Help Finish Cuz I Just Don't Have The Time.

There once was a savior named Jesus
Who slid down chimneys to please us.
He left many presents
To poor kids and peasants
Uncles and Aunts, Nephews and Nieces.

(finish that up for me...willya?)

Anderson, Anderson, and Anderson.

Reading another blog the other day about going to a 'hair stylist' and getting a 'poof' got me thinking about how 'clever' hair stylists are in naming their shops:

A Cut Above

Curl Up And Dye

Short Cutz

Always Hair For You

The Hair Port

Hair Again

Shear Madness

The Mop Shop

And on and on...

Look in the Yellow Pages under Beauty Salons and you'll be amazed at the variety and play on words.

Now look under Accounting in the same Yellow Pages. The dullest company names EVER!

Let's help the accountants out and come up with some clever names for them....

How can I be racist...some of my best friends are Swedish?

There are a few things you need to know before reading today's blog.

1. I don't like shaking hands with people I don't know...once I know you I have no problem with it. But I have a germ thing with strangers.

2. I'm probably less racist than you are.

3. They shut down the water main yesterday to repair a problem.

4. I'm using the example of Perrier instead of Polar Springs because Perrier just sounds funnier.

Got all that?

So yesterday they shut down the water main to fix a problem. With the water main shut down you can still flush a toilet....but only once because then the tank doesn't refill. So I saved that one flush just in case of an emergency.

Got all that?

So then this wicked nice black guy comes in (we'll call him Gunther) and we start chattin' it up about toys and comics and Christmas and kids and junk. He buys a ton of stuff and we're laughing and having a grand old time when he goes to say goodbye he shakes my hand. And I shake back. But I'm freakin' out inside cuz I'm a germ freak and all I want to do is wash my hands but I don't have any water. But I'll deal with it.

So Gunther starts to leave but just before he walks out he asks if he can use the bathroom. Well guess what? I have to say no because remember the water main is shut off. But for some reason I know he's not gonna believe that and he's gonna think I aint letting him use the bathroom cuz he's black. I start to over explain the whole water main thing....I point down the street to show him what buildings are shut down and where he might find a bathroom. I feel terrible. He leaves.

So now I'm alone in the store and I remember I shook his hands and I want to wash them. But the water is shut off. So I soak a paper towel with Perrier and start to wash my hands when this horrible vision of Gunther catching me wiping off his germs freaks me out and I burst into laughter over how stupid the whole thing is.

Moral of the story?

I should have just let him use the working 'whites only' bathroom I have out back.

Customer Service and makin' the sale.

So this woman comes in the shop the other day and stands at the front counter and asks me if I have this...if I have that. She looks familiar.

I know I know her but can't place from where. I can't remember her name or if I knew her thirty years ago or three days ago.

But know I know her. And she starts talking like she knows me. And it's driving me nuts that I can't place her!

Nothing is ringing a bell.

Who is she? DAMN! I know her. I need to focus and remember how I know her.

I cannot for the life of me place her. How could I forget someone this attractive, smart, and obviously into me?

I have no idea how that is possible.

I just can't remember her.

Until we start making out, and then all the memories of making out with her last year all comes rushing back to me.

Though I don't remember if I made the sale.

Hey! It's time to play that game again!

What game is that?

You know, the game where I throw down six random letters and you make up a sentence with each word starting with said letter. In order.

You get bonus points if you make it Christmas related.

And here are the letters.

::drumroll::

P-R-C-T-A-W

Go to it my minions!

Insomnia

I was running a bit late today because of traffic and stuff and wasn't gonna do a blog.

And then the Insomnia guy (mid 60s) came in and I had to share his wicked funny story.

Insomnia Guy: "So I take this broad out for a date and we go to see the movie Insomnia"

ME: "Go on, go on"

Insomnia Guy: "And I fell asleep while watching a movie called Insomnia"

ME: "Go on, go on"

Insomnia Guy: "Thats it. Funny, huh?"

ME: "Wicked funny....did you have a second date?"

Insomnia Guy: ::blank stare::

Didn't we do this back in the summer?

This was in the new Mad Magazine.

I'm tired.

This morning I broke the record for the human who wanted to stay in bed the most. This was an all time record I broke. Nobody in the history of mankind ever wanted the confines of those blankets more than me. Ever.

I'm exhausted.

Sleepy. Need sleep.

I'm so tired. Exhausted.

Sleepy McDougal. Tired. I can barely stay awake.

Eyelids encumbered by anvilian weights. Need sleep.

I'm so tired. Sleepy. Exhausted. Bed calling.

Tired. Just want to crawl upstairs and sleep. Sleep the long sleep. Dream. Sleep.

I'm yawning and stretching and thinking of tonight when I go to sleep.

Cuz I'm tired. Just want to sleep the day away. The night away. Eyelids closing. Sleepy. Tired. I need to sleep right now. Cuz I'm tired.

Yawny O'Reilly.

Stevie McYawny

Stretchin' and yawnin'. Yawnin' and stretchin'. Sleep needed. Not yawns.

Mr Sandman I hate you. I'm tired. Need sleep. Deep long dream filled sleep.

Clouds and sheep and runnin' and flyin' kinda sleep. Snoozin' is what I'm losin'

I'm tired. Sleepy. Exhausted. Need bed. Need sleep. Can't stay awake. Cuz I'm tired. Sleepy.

I friggin' exhausted. Just want to sleep. Pillows and blankets and sleep.

Oh my.

12 hours or so. And then I'll be asleep. Happy and rested. Dreaming. Sleeping.

Because I'm exhausted. Tired. Sleepy.

Sleepy McDreamy.

Dreamy McSleepy.

Mickey SleepDreamy.

I tired. Sleepy and exhausted.

Beds around the world are calling my name.

Because they know.

I'm tired.

Tired of not sleeping. Tired of yawning. Tired of being exhausted. Tired of being tired.

Tired. Sleepy.

And now I'm thirsty...

Why I love Jesus more than brownies.

I love Jesus more than a pan full of brownies because:

1. Jesus could walk on water...brownies just sit in a pan.

2. Jesus had the power to heal....brownies just sit in a pan.

3. Jesus built a big tower so folks could babble....brownies just sit in pan.

4. Jesus could turn water into Merlot....brownies just sit in pan.

5. Jesus built an ark and saved all the animals from something....brownies just sit in a pan.

6. Jesus parted the Red Sea thus helping someone do something....brownies just sit in a pan.

7. Jesus invented 12 decibels thus giving us stereo music....brownies just sit in a pan.

8. Jesus had a baby and had the chutzpah to name him Baby Jesus....brownies just sit in a pan.

9. Jesus had a hot 'virgin' mom....brownies just sit in a pan.

10. Jesus taught about peace, love, and understanding (or was that Elvis Costello?)....brownies just sit in a pan.

And that is why I love Jesus more than brownies*



*I lied. I like brownies better...especially with walnuts.

Kraft Macaroni & Soap

All everyone does is complain about stuff. Nabobs of Negativity.

But nobody every complains about Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and soap. Even if someone HATES Kraft Mac and Cheese they don't complain about it. They deal with it. It's there. It's non offensive. It costs (I assume) under ten bucks.

When you have young kids and you present them with Kraft Macaroni and Cheese they think of you as Emeril Lagasse or something. It's truly a joy giving food. It's easy to make. It's good for you (contains the vitamins macaroni AND cheese) Doesn't take up much room in the cabinets. It's orange. It's Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

So what does soap have to do with this? I'm talking about a bar of soap that you wash with. Nobody complains about soap. It's smooth. It's soapy. It gets you clean. It costs (I assume) under ten bucks. It's awesome. Oh sure, once in a while it'll slip out of you're hand and you'll curse....but it aint the soap's fault. It's yours.

We as a species also like smooth stuff and soap is nice and smooth.

You know what else is great about a bar of soap? You never run out of it. Each day you SEE the bar getting smaller and know when it's time to get a new one. It's soap. And it is awesome.

So stop yer complaining...we have soap and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

And with that...Adult Week is over.

Back to bears and food and everything PG.

IMAGINE if the Beatles were four Italian guys instead of four white guys.

So what would John Lennini, Georgio Harrisoni, Paulie Mac, and Ringolermo have come up with?

1. All You Need Is Luigi

2. Your Mama Mia Should Know

3. You Never Give Me Your Lire

4. Yellow Submarine A Sand-A-Wiche

5. Please Mr. Ill Postino

6. Hey Anthony!

7. Eleanor Rigatoni

8. Ob La Di, Ob La DaVinci

9. Back In The R.O.M.A.

10. Ciao arrivederci

If The Beatles Were Four Black Guys Instead Of Four White Guys (you know....according to Kramer)

So what would J-Le, G-Har, Paul-Diddy, and Blingo have come up with?

1. Black In The USSR

2. When I Be Sigstee Fo'

3. Sgt. Black Pepa's Lonely Hearts Club Band

4. I Be Da Walrus.

5. Can't Be Buyin' Me No Love

6. Eight Days A Week? Whatchu Takin' 'Bout Nigga?

7. Nuttin' Fo #7

8. Yo Latta.

9. Sumptin'

10. I Wanna Be Holdin' Yo Ho

11. Yo-Yo-Yo Jude

12. The Ballad Of John and Yo-Yo-Yoko.

(dedicated to Mrs Bacon Ace cuz she thinks I've been slacking on the LIST format)

I Have A Secret

Continuing our adventures during Adult I AINT NO OPRAH week...

Remember a couple months ago when Victoria's Secret sent me a gift card wishing me a very SEXY BIRTHDAY?

Well, they sent me another card last week for a free panty.

And not just a regular panty but a seamless panty.

So Monday night I decide to go into Victoria's Secret and get my free seamless panty. (Are seams really a problem on panties?) So I find a sales clerk, let her know I'm here for my free seamless panty, ask some advice on styles, colors, etc.

Now I'm at the checkout counter with my free seamless panties in a pink bag and here is how the conversation went:

VICTORIA: "Did you know you can get $10.00 off on the purchase of any bra in stock?"

ME: "Do I look like a guy who needs a bra?"

VICTORIA: "No...but you don't look like a guy who needs seamless panties either."

The Chowder Cannon

Seeing how it's adult week on I AINT NO OPRAH and yesterdays blog was about vagina I thought it fitting to spend some time with the penis. So to speak.

About a year or so ago me and a friend of mine (MadDog) heard the expression "Chowder Cannon" in reference to a man's penis. Afterwards I instantly googled the Chowder Cannon (with quotes around it to get exact results) and up came only 4 hits.

4 lonely hits for something as wonderful as Chowder Cannon.

What could be better for penis than Chowder Cannon? It's descriptive. It's unique. It's funny. A tad dangerous. And marketable. Chowder Cannon is and was a winner yet it sat there on Google with only four hits. To Google something and find only 4 hits is an amazing thing. Just about everything you Google has thousands of hits. Except Chowder Cannon.

I Googled it today (sounds dirty, huh?) with quotes around it ("Chowder Cannon") and up came 30 glorious hits!

Chowder Cannon, though not sweeping the nation is slowly working it's way around the globe. And I'd like to think I had a little something to do with it.

We'll find out next year when we all Google "Chowder Cannon" once again.

I'm guessing it will be over 300 hits and we can all be proud of ourselves for spreading the good word.

Chowder Cannon. Say it with me.

Chowder Cannon.

Once more.

Chowder Cannon.

Hoochie-Coochie Man

As you know, thousands of children around the globe read this blog. Today we are asking them not to, as today's blog is going to be R-rated.

Back when me and the Hoag were around 13 years old we'd be hangin' my house and my older brother and his friends would be there also.

They were cool. We looked up to them. They stole stuff, smoked pot, drank booze, skipped school, made it with chicks, dressed cool, gambled.

They gave us advice.

So one day while sitting Indian style looking up at in awe at one of them....we'll call him Mike....he gave us some incredible advice.

MIKE: "Never blow air into a woman's coochie (vagina)"

US: "Why would we want to?"

MIKE: Doesn't matter...just NEVER EVER do it...it could kill them"

US: "GASP!!!"

MIKE: "Promise?"

US: "How could it kill them if we blew air into their coochie (vagina)?"

MIKE: "It would send an air bubble straight to the heart instantly killing them."

US: "We promise!"

FAST FORWARD 5 TO 8 YEARS LATER:

HOAG: "Hey...remember when Mike Scotty told us that if you blew air into a woman's coochie (vagina) it would kill them?"

ME: "Hell yeah!"

HOAG: "It doesn't kill them...they just kinda laugh and look at you weird"

Things I Love About Hillary Clinton.

Some might call it love. I call it love.

On Buddy Night we somehow always end up at T.G.I.Fridays. Plenty of great restaurants in our area but there is something about TGIF's that keeps us coming back. It certainly isn't the food. The food is average at best. But it's a fun place, tons of TVs, GREAT wait staff, good music, comfortable tables, and close by. But the food really does kinda suck.

Last night things changed. Possibly forever.

We ate our average steaks and then noticed the new dessert menu.

Prepared at our table by the bartender was freshly made donuts in a bag filled with cinnamon and sugar, shaken in said bag, and then displayed on a plate with some kinda awesome dipping frosting thing.

There is nothing (NOTHING!!) better than fresh hot donuts covered in cinnamon and sugar and then dipped into that frosting dip stuff.

And they're those little donuts. Maybe 15 per bag. $4.00. Could have had TWO bags had my daughter not wasted the $4.00 on the Butterfly Effect video rental.

Moral of this story?

Go somewhere else for dinner, stop at the Olive Garden for their Lemon Cream Cake, and then shoot over to TGIF's for hot cinnamon sugar donuts with frosted dipping elixir.

(Them donuts made me forget all about the dozens of soldiers that have died in Iraq, the long long Cold War that was finally ended by Ronald Reagan, and the circumference of Ted Kennedy's head.)