Buzzed

On the radio this morning they mentioned that some company is going to start adding caffeine to their doughnuts. They'll be called Buzz Doughnuts.

Do doughnut eaters really need more caffeine in their systems? Will they wash those doughnuts down with coffee or Jolt Cola?

PS;

I had a dream about Hillary Clinton last night and it wasn't too bad.

I think I need a caffeinated doughnut so I'll never fall asleep again.

This joke made me laugh when I was 9 years old

If Gomer Pyle married Winnie The Pooh he'd be a Pyle of Pooh.

It still holds up quite well, hmmmmm?

Hiatus

I AINT NO OPRAH will be on hiatus for a while as I have a TON of stuff to do at work.

Thank you all for checking in every day....its been a blast.

You're all a fun, smart, witty bunch and crack me up everyday.

Steve

Dumb as a country shaped like a boot.

I'm getting ready to ship a package to Italy so I go to the US Post office website to check out restrictions and stuff (www.usps.com) and here is a partial list of what I CAN'T ship to Italy.

Losers.

The following list is real (though I edited out the stuff that made sense to restrict....weapons, radioactive materials, violins, etc)

Prohibitions (130)

Albums of any kind (of photographs, postcards, postage stamps, etc.).


Articles of platinum or gold; jewelry; and other valuable articles unless sent as insured packages.

Artificial flowers and fruits and accessories for them.

Bells and other musical instruments and parts thereof.



Clocks and supplies for clocks.

Coral mounted in any way.

Exposed photographic and cinematographic films.

Footwear of any kind.

Haberdashery and sewn articles of any kind, including trimmings and lace; handkerchiefs; scarves; shawls, needlework including stockings and gloves; bonnets, caps, and hats of any kind.

Leather goods.

Lighters and their parts, including lighter flints.

Nutmeg, vanilla; sea salt, rock salt; saffron.

Perfumery goods of all kinds (except soap).

Playing cards of any kind.

Postage stamps in sealed or unsealed letter-post shipments.

Ribbons for typewriters.

Roasted or ground coffee and its substitutes; roasted chicory.

Saccharine and all products containing saccharine.

Toys not made wholly of wood.

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

Italy is now officially the dumbest planet on earth.

And does anyone want to buy my roasted chicory business?

Good Old Route 117

So I'm reading Bemisdown's blog the other day about her getting pulled over for speeding and it reminded me of the time I got pulled over back in the 1980s.

(I just felt everyone's eyes rolling up inside their heads)

Telling someone a speeding story is somewhat like telling someone a dream story....they don't much care.

But I'm gonna tell ya anyhow.

It happened on Rt. 117. All you need to know about RT. 117 is that either it's clogged with traffic and you can't speed even if you wanted to OR it's empty and you can't help but speed. It's a fun road when it's empty. Ask Bacon Ace or Hoag or Cousin Saul.

I was going fast when the cop pulled me over. Here is the conversation that followed:

COP: "License, registration blahblahblah"

ME: "Here ya go."

COP: "Why are you going so fast?"

ME: "My wife is making Chicken Parmiagana."

COP: "Well, you better get going then...."

ME: "Thank you."

Celebrity Arrest Pool

I've got nothing to write today so I figured instead of the Dead Pool we'd play the Arrest Pool.

Pick three. Winner gets a prize. And ya gotta pick someone that nobody thinks wouuld ever get arrested.

Here's mine:

1. David Hasslehoff (it just sounds right for some reason)

2. Charlie Sheen (he's due)

3. Tom Hanks (he's worth bonus prizes)

To Whom it May Concern,

Please excuse Steven from school today as he is sick.

Thank you,
Steven's Mom

60 degrees in Boston today

Clearly this whole global warming thing and the melting of the polar ice caps is Deval Patricks fault.

What a crappy job he's doing.

And I notcie we're still in Iraq.

The Subway Hero

Subway Hero. Subway Hero. Subway Hero.

That's all I've heard all week. Every news show. Subway Hero. Subway Hero. Subway Hero.

Regis. Letterman. The Today Show. Good Morning America. Subway Hero. Subway Hero. Subway Hero. Local news. The View. Jimmy Kimmel. Conan. Leno. Subway Hero. Subway Hero. Subway Hero.

Every newspaper. The Globe. Herald. NY Daily News. The NY Post. The Subway Hero.

I'm sick of hearing about the freakin' Subway Hero.

I have a pal named Hoagy and I eat the steak n' cheese at D'Angelo's....what the heck do I need with some stupid Subway Hero?

It's Pat!

I was taking a break from helping Mitt Romney move some stuff when I read this story:

It seems God talked direct to Pat Robertson (crazed TV religious nut job 700 Club guy) and told him that the US was going to suffer a terrible terrorist attack sometime after September resulting in the death of millions.

He also mentions that God didn't say it would be nuclear....but Pat thinks it will be.

So now lets analyze this. A couple things:

I find it odd that God has a calendar and mentions it will happen after September. Is it a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Calendar? Maybe one of those Far Side ones? What kinda calendar does God have? Did he get it AFTER Christmas and save 50%?

I also love that Pat knows it will be nuclear but God doesn't.

Later in the story the reporter mentions Pat's 'predictions' and other conversations that Pat has had with God. Seems last year God told Pat that there would be a tsunami in New England. When questioned Pat said: "Well, maybe there wasn't a tsunami but it rained a lot last year so I was close enough"

No, you weren't.

God spoke to me also.

He told me Pat is a douchebag.

He also told me that new show 'The Knights of Prosperity' is pretty funny.

He was right on both counts.

The Unspeakable Areola

So yesterday I'm on a business forum and the subject of the areola comes up. You know, the areola...that brownish/pinkish piece of real estate that circles the nipple.

What about the areola is so forbidden? On TV you can see every part of a woman's breast except the areola. And of course, the evil nipple.

But the real part of the areola that befuddles me is that people rarely even say it out loud. Have you ever heard the following in actual conversation?:

1. "Man, she has beautiful areolas!"

2. "Man....my areolas sure do itch...I've got itchy areolas!"

3. Excuse me sir, do my areolas smell funny?

4. "You know, Louie...ya can tell the size of a woman's areolas by the size of her feet. It's true."

5. "But Mom...we had areolas for dinner last night!"

6. "Get your feet of the areolas...I just polished them!"

7. "I'm afraid you have cancer of the areola.

8. "Man! Look at the areolas on that man's cans!"

(Men have areolas also, correct?)

9. I'll take the Areolas plus three points over the Dallas Cowboys!"

10. "Mmmmmmm....chicken fried areolas!"

Areolas. Dumbest word in history. And rarely do you hear anyone say it out loud. Areola. Sounds Hawaiian

Or something.

(spackle and slacks are dumb words also)

The Funeral Of President Gerald Ford

So I'm at this New Years Eve party and all the men were standing around talking so I decided to leave all the women and go join them. One of the guys is telling us this story of his brother(?) who went or had a party where there was a stripper. Now from what I gather the stripper was doing whatever it is that strippers do. Dancing. Taking off their clothes. And other stripper related duties.

And then she decided to do the following:

She took a flashlight (like the kind they use when directing a plane on a runway....with that tapered cone thingy)....she took the flashlight and rammed it up her butt. You heard me.... the flashlight up her butt. And then turned it on.

Since when did this become something that men like? Ladies....this is NOT something we like. There is not even a remote chance that a flashlight up your ass will turn us on so don't even try it. It aint hot. It aint sexy. It's a flashlight with a big red cone thingy jammed in your rectum. NOT. SEXY. Even with the flashlight illuminated it's not sexy. Not a turn on.


And what the heck does all this have to do with the funeral of President Gerald Ford you ask?

I have no idea. I've been sitting here for 15 minutes trying my best to somehow tie in the funeral of a US President with a flashlight jammed in a strippers butt and can't come up with anything.

I've failed you. I've failed the Nation.

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....