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Wednesday, July 31, 2002


And They All Still Want to Pop the Top on the Six Pack

Brad Pitt has obviously gone insane. Is he playing a man who kicks around a cardboard box whilst indelicately relieving himself into a pair of tattered khakis? Or just proving to the world that even if he tries to rub a little dirt on it, he's going to have a line of females around the corner like he's handing out free Manolo Blahniks outside a Sex in the City Fan Convention?

You make the inconsequential call.


Contest Winner Announced

The "winner" of my immensely popular muppet-naming contest (see link in left sidebar under "Best of Bunsen"--I'm too lazy to re-link it right now) is someone who goes by the name of "Hoags."

The winning entry:
Bloodcount Dracula

Thanks for your submission.


Anticipation Corner

I am now so wound up and excited for the new Anna Nicole Smith show on E! that I am actually lactating. Not figuratively. Creamy, splashy buttermilk is pouring from my engorged nipples.

Luckily, this will come to a halt on Sunday when Anna comes and takes away the pain of waiting and the ivory flow will be stanched.

It's really not so gross. It's soy-based.



The Onion's weekly "What Do You Think?" feature spotlights a recent Southwest Airlines decision to make obese people buy two tickets to fly.

I think I covered that quite a while ago.


Classic Sitcom Line Dept.


The Boss can kiss my big, fat, white...
He's standing behind me, isn't he?



A Quick Link Before Sleeping

This isn't creepy, it's just Bill napping.


Quote of the Right Now

"They went down looking for the miners, and they passed my boobs."
--Joan Rivers, on Letterman

Good Old Joan is openly discussing her myriad recent plastic surgeries, valiantly attempting to squeeze recognizable sounds through a face stretched tighter than the skin on an American Indian canoe.

Not since Haley Joel Osment have I been so filled with existential dread this late at night.

God help us all when Haley and Joan unite and come for our very souls.


White People Have No Soul, Can't Dance

Well, it's true.


Papal Sitting Bull Extra

Pope to Canonize First American Indian Saint in Mexico

The Pope is in Mexico, and it's not for the enchiladas and cheap tattoos.

I think I smell a contest to name this newly-minted American Indian saint. Maybe this time some of you will chip in. Send entries via e-mail, and the winner will be posted next week.

To get you started:

--Saint Touchem Youngpants
--Saint Firstime Freebie
--Saint Running Faster than BoyinRobe
--Saint John MMXXVII
--Saint Dealem Poker
--Saint Hangum Drunken Depresshun
--Saint Joseph Nez Pierce

You know the drill. Now mail 'em in.

[American Indians are lovely people. Not all deal poker, are alcoholics, or {gasp} Catholic priests. Above suggestions submitted by Pope]

Tuesday, July 30, 2002


Today's Bold Prediction, Hindsight Edition

Michael Dukakis will be routed in the 1988 Presidential Election.

He will also be short and swarthy, and wear an oversized helmet of military issue.

Also, there will be Kitty.

[excerpted from recently-delivered 1978 e-mail message]


Ripped Violently From This Minute's Headlines Section

Bin Laden's son seen gaining power

No word from Washington as to whether Osama will purchase majority stake in an oil company or Major League Baseball team on his son's behalf. The world community holds its breath and waits for Saad to take power of Al Qaida through miscounted longest-straw vote, then mismanage the organization out of existence.

"He's our greatest weapon, our whitest hope," said one high-placed Washington insider.


Hate To Say I Told You So Dept.

Judge dismisses most Iverson charges

To quote the man himself, "Fuck all y'all."

I don't know if he actually said that or not, but it's not much of a stretch is he's waving a gun and knocking on your door.

Nor is, "Get your bitch-ass motherfucking ho ass out here right now!"

Monday, July 29, 2002


Ronnie? Hey, It's Mel. How About We Skip the Spa in Tel Aviv?

Celebrities Avoid Israel

Israeli tourism officials lament the recent lack of stars visiting their turbulent homeland. Here are some of the recent celebs to cancel their flights to the Land of Milk and Honey and their reasons:

--Angelina Jolie: too difficult to sit in first class seat--ass still tender from having "Billy Bob" tattoo scorched off with a helium-cadmium laser;

--Tom Cruise: Scientology High Command issued strong warning against all travel to the Middle East, cannot promise safe return to space if tainted by negative delta vibrations of regional turmoil;

--Julia Roberts: Busy planning how she's going to let the cameraman/husband down gently;

--Winona Ryder: "Isn't that the place where they start hacking off limbs if you forget to pay for things? You see, I was recently arrested for stealing a bunch of stuff from a very expensive American department store and I would hate to make the same mistake in a place with sharp knives. They broke my arm here. I can only imagine what would happen. I steal things."

--Bob Hope: expects to be dead before next week's planned USO spectacular on the Gaza Strip;

--Monica Lewinsky: intern blowjobs frowned upon in Occupied Territories.

--OJ Simpson: Killed his wife and another dude. Have we already forgotten?

--Gary Hart: has weekend plans on his yacht, Monkey Business, with secretary Donna Rice. In 1988.

--Christa McAuliffe: "Israel? What's this button do?"

--Jesus: "so totally done" with region since rising from grave.


Photo of the Early Morning

Chang W. Lee/The New York Times

It wasn't so cute when Tiny Timmy was climbing around in the catcher's mitt just as the slider arrived.


The Third Time Could Be The Charm Dept.

J-Lo Goes Fitty-Fitty With Ex-Dancer/Husband

I think that I heard that someone they know said that Billy Bob has been walking around Beverly Hills muttering that he suddenly has a taste for a REALLY BIG ASS.


Where Were You at 1am on Saturday Night?

Jumbo's Clown Room

Look closely. It's not a strip club. I'm telling you, they don't get naked.

I get the feeling that the dancers there think of themselves more as some kind of burlesque entertainers than exotic dancers.

But it is an institution. Courtney Love danced there before she started screeching into a mic and driving a genius to suicide.

Sunday, July 28, 2002


Sand Gets In All the Nooks and Crannies

Couple Jailed over Nude Internet Photos

The Egyptian police are really going to flip when first they see the volatile mixture of porn, the internet, and camels.


It Hurts Just To Think About Thinking About It

Boy's penis stitched back after donkey bite

No word on whether the unfortunate lad (or was he fortunate in the end? It could have been worse; Eeyore coulda swallowed) was taunting the donkey with the "carrot dangled from the end of the penis" gag.

[This story is a little old, by blog standards, but needs to be here. Its omission was a glaring penis-mishap-news oversight]


Quote of the Day

From VH1's Driven on Motley Crue:

"Nikki Sixx was a rock n' roll architect, determined to build the ultimate heavy metal machine."

Saturday, July 27, 2002


Uh, Look Left

A new poll is posted for your voting pleasure.

Thursday, July 25, 2002


This is Merely the First Few Paragraphs of an Article in Italics

S.Korea Investigating Firm's Baby Cloning Claims
Thu Jul 25, 2:57 AM ET

By Paul Eckert

SEOUL (Reuters) - South Korea ( news - web sites) said on Thursday it was investigating a U.S.-based firm run by a UFO-inspired spiritual sect which claims it has implanted a cloned embryo in a Korean woman.

Reuters Photo

As Seoul's media urged the country to swiftly pass laws against human cloning in the wake of Clonaid's claim, the South Korean Ministry of Health and Welfare was quick to underline its opposition to the practice.

"We began investigating the company yesterday," a ministry spokesman said.

"Before finding out whether or not there's a woman pregnant with a cloned baby, we must state that the practice of human cloning itself is unethical," the spokesman said.

Clonaid Korea spokesman Kwak Gi-hwa told a news conference in South Korea on Wednesday that the firm had implanted a Korean surrogate mother with a cloned embryo. The woman would give birth in South Korea, which has no laws against the procedure, he said.

In an interview with Reuters television on Thursday, Kwak repeated his assertion.

"The surrogate mother, who arrived in South Korea a month ago, came with an embryo which had been implanted on her uterine wall by foreign technicians," he said.


The Health Ministry spokesman told Reuters the ministry had drawn up guidelines on human cloning which permit the cloning of embryos only for medical treatment.

"Embryo cloning is totally different from human cloning which isn't permissible anywhere in the world," he said by telephone.

Kwak, who declined to disclose where in South Korea the surrogate mother was or to give the address of Clonaid's office, said the firm sought "to inform as many people as possible that eternal life is possible with science."

Clonaid's web site,, says the firm was set up in 1997 by the Raelian Movement, which preaches that life on earth was created through genetic engineering by extraterrestrials and that Jesus was the product of advanced cloning techniques.


No Need to Worry Dept.

Expert: Asteroid May Hit Earth, but Don't Panic

Dr. Benny Peiser, a British scientist with Liverpool's John Moore University, gave the world a little heads-up to the fact that a hurtling chunk of space-rock might collide with the Earth in 2019, unleashing devestation told only in fine feature films like Deep Impact and Armageddon. "In the worst case scenario, a disaster of this size would be global in its extent, would create a meltdown of our economic and social life, and would reduce us to dark age conditions," he told Reuters.

But then again, it will probably miss. Other findings by the scientist, and his conclusions;

--in 2202, a supervolcano will possibly erupt somewhere in the Pacific Rim, covering the earth's surface in white-hot ash. "But not to worry," said Peiser.

--in 2027, Europe may be overrun by a new wave of The Black Death, this time wiping out 73 percent of its population. Peiser added, "Not bloody likely in the final analysis."

--in 2005, Peiser's computer models predict that the doctor himself will be ravaged by syphillis. "The way I dive into whores, bareback and with gusto, could happen. But odds are against. Cheerio."

Peiser then neatly folded his computer printout detailing the unlikely catastrophies, blew a whistle, and was chased at high speed by bikini-clad nymphettes to the merry sounds of kazoos.

Wednesday, July 24, 2002


Interview Corner

Bunsen bumped into none other than Harrison Ford at a popular Hollywood eatery. Ford was trying to be inconspicuous in the standard celebrity camoflauge--big sunglasses and a baseball hat. But Bunsen's sharp eyes spotted him through the crowd at the crowded falafel shop. They sat down for a quick conversation over a couple of steaming kabobs and a tin of hummus. Bunsen had this to say of the encounter with the star of the new film K-19: The Widowmaker:

"Ford's a stoic, but I managed to pull him out of his shell once the garlic sauce started to work its magic. A tough interview, but one I'll remember for years to come."

Transcript follows:

Bunsen: What's up, Indy?
Harrison Ford: It's Harrison. Enjoying the hummus? This place is the best.
Bunsen: I think that guy behind the counter looks just like the guy in the turban you shot dead in Raiders.
HF: That man's not wearing a turban.
Bunsen: You know, the guy with the flippy swords, and you stared him down and had that look in your eye that said, "You don't know what you're up against, silly Abdul," then you unholstered your weapon and shot him dead. Way to go, Indy.
HF: Harrison. [takes large bite of falafel, stares down at plate--is Abdul casing him?]
Bunsen: America needs that sort of thing right now.
HF: What sort of thing is that?
Bunsen: You know. Asskicking, Indy, lots of asskicking.
HF: I think my kabob is getting cold. And enough with the Indy thing.
Bunsen: We named the dog Indiana.
HF: [smiles despite himself]
Bunsen Now we're getting somewhere. I really, really dig the kabob in here.
HF: [long pause] Yeah, it's good.
Bunsen: Thanks, Indy.
[He spears a falafel ball from my plate.]
HF: Thank you
Bunsen: That was my falafel. [pause] Indy.
HF: Right. It was yours.
Bunsen: How about putting it back on my plate?
HF: Why would I want to do that?
Bunsen: If you don't, I will tell Abdul over there that this time you are without your whip or your pistol, Dr. Jones.
[Ford plops the falafel back onto my styrofoam plate. He stands without a word and heads for the exit. He flips Abdul the finger as the bells on the door jingle.]


Lifted Link

I lifted this link from The Lexiphane. But it is pretty funny, in a one-joke sort of way.

Which is often more than can be found here.

Tuesday, July 23, 2002


A Laurel Extended

Happy 29th Birthday, Nomar Garciaparra, Red Sox shortstop.

May you live a happy and healthy life, but let you forever feel the sting of World Series disappointment as long as you play in Boston.

And may your relatives not freeze you like a Tricolor Bomb Pop when you shuffle off this mortal coil.


Finally, Scientific Proof Why Women Are Better Than Men

New study says female brain wired for emotion

Stand-up comedians around the country praise the discovery of the reason why their wives remember every unwashed dish, forgotten anniversary, and kid left out in the rain after Little League practice. Some jokes coming to a Yuk-Yuk's or Improv near you:

--"Would someone please wire my wife to balance a checkbook?"
--"God, it would be great if they wired my husband to remember to take out the trash or stop and ask for directions. Who's with me, people?"
--"My ex-wife was wired to be a castrating shrew."
--"That OJ was really wired to kill his wife."

You know it's coming, so let's get it over with:
--"Someone should have wired Winona to pay for the stuff she stole."


Small Talk

How 'bout that stock market? Up, down, up, down...I don't think it even knows where it wants to go! It's wreaking havoc on my 401(k), I gotta tell ya.

What did it finish, like 500 points down? Jeez.


Holy F'in Shit Dept.

Haley Joel Osment, the little "I see dead people" kid, is on Letterman. He's 14 now, and it's really fucking freaking my shit out, dude. He's going through puberty right before my eyes. He's like ten feet tall now, dude. His voice is deeper and cracking. His eyes are like really creepy little marbles, and they can see me.

He must be stopped.

Monday, July 22, 2002


MTV Really, Really Wants to Sell You Some Tampons

The commericals on Sorority Girls are so long that I had time to do my dishes in a single ad break. And I feel this floaty, nagging need to buy some Tampax, Captain Morgan's Gold, and maybe even a little something by Massengill.

Two words on Sorority Girls:

Bitch School.


Really Deep Inside the News Extra

Els hangs on to capture British Open

Someone other than Tiger Woods wins something. Lack of interest so pervasive British Open officials forget to give him his jug (a funny British trophy). "The only thing more boring than Tiger winning a Slam event is some other guy winning," said one PGA official. He then remarked to an assistant, "Can someone rub Tiger's name off the thing and put whathisface's on it? I don't care, use a Sharpie."

Just in Case You Didn't Know Why You Stopped Caring About All Things Cleveland

Drew Carey Returns to Roots Amid Shake-up

OK, people, here's the problem. Obviously, the show is suffering from too much goofiness. Wouldn't want to mess up a show about drunks with bad jobs with some funny antics. Let's get back to what made us a success, people! Relationships!

Oh, and Drew, you have to get really fucking fat again.

Black People to Duke It Out for Our Amusement

Bernie Mac OK With Wayans Faceoff

WFOoBH Fight Commentator Alan "The 1/2 Aremenian 1/2 Lebanese" Gabramanian weighs in on the melee.

A"OHAOHL"G: "My money is on Damon Wayans. I've seen him run around and shoot guns in movies. Looks like he works out. Bernie Mac's primary skill is bugging out his eyes and saying 'motherfucker' a lot. I'm pretty sure Wayans has that in his trick bag as well. That being said, anything can happen in the fight game."


[At press time, there was no comment from the UPN network as to how they handicap the fight, or how the bout might affect their Wednesday night lineup of edgy, urban fare that no one has ever heard of.]

Someone Turn Her Over to the Guy Handling Michael Jackson's Career, Please

Sheryl Crow Tries to Balance Career, Love, Biweekly Botox Injections

"Things ae just eally geat ight now," offered Crow, the one-time back-up singer to The Gloved One. "It's sot of a dag that I have to go and have this needle full of biotoxins stuck in my foehead evey so often. It's made me look nice and young and smooth, but I have a eally hard time ponouncing 'r' now."

Sunday, July 21, 2002


It's Sunday and All Is Right With the World Edition

Red Sox hit five home runs in loss

My beloved Yankees won two out of three games from the Red Sox this weekend, in the best possible fashion--come-from-behind victories in their last at-bats. Sunday's game was decided by a bases-loaded walk. It's a great game because there are a nearly infinite number of ways for the Sox to self-immolate, each one more entertaining and satisfying than the last.

I love fucking baseball.

Saturday, July 20, 2002


More Fun Than a Barrel of Munchen

Read this site in German.

You must. You must!

Friday, July 19, 2002


Maury Must Be So Very, Very Proud of His 'Lil Crazy Dumplin'

CNN's breakout comedy hit

This is an article about Connie Chung's unintentionally hilarious new CNN show by probably the best writer covering television today [yours truly excepted, but she does get paid for it.]

[I guess I do get paid in hugs and rainbows, but the last time I tried to pay my rent with those I wound up in a hilarious situation! Details this Fall on CBS Sundays at 8:00pm!]


Just to Cleanse the Palette of Cancer and Other Nastiness Dept.

Some people are so full of love.


Secret Joke Probably In Bad Taste. OK, Definitely.

.Yahoo! News - Rapper Mystikal Accused of Rape

"Be quiet, baby, that's not my's my magic wand."

[I know rape is not funny, unless it's prison, but come on.]


Programming Dilemmas Section

MTV's Osbournes Cancer Problem

MTV is reportedly wrestling with how to incorporate the latest unexpected development in TV's most uproariously dysfunctional family unit. Sharon Osbourne underwent surgery for colon cancer last week, and it appears that the cancer has spread, necessitating three months of chemotherapy.

Early indications are that new elements will be added to some of MTV's other prime-time offerings to take some of the spotlight from Osbourne's illness. Changes on the table include:

--infecting the entire new cast of Road Rules with chlamydia;
--using cutting edge gene-therapy to induce early-onset Alzheimer's Disease in TRL host Carson Daly;
--sending the crew of Cribs for "a very special week" showcasing the hovels of HIV-ravaged villages in the Ivory Coast;
--Jackass' Steve-O will bring his x-treme hijinks to the El Al terminal at Los Angeles International Airport.

While these new plans may distract viewers from paying untoward attention to the cancer dilemma, MTV Executives are unsure of the impact that Sharon Osbourne's illness should have on The Osbournes itself. "The camera will definitely depict the stress that the cancer has inflicted on the family," said a high-placed source within the music net. "We've got some good footage of Kelly gagging on a hairbrush and a few shots of Jack strangling himself with a camoflauge Army belt while he masturbates. Everyone deals with grief in his or her own way."

As for the family's lovably batty patriarch, the source revealed, "Ozzy's got no idea what's going on. We'll tell him on the limo ride to the funeral. If it comes to that, God forbid."

Wednesday, July 17, 2002


It Happens to the Best of Us Dept.

Reports are flying in that Billy Bob Thornton and Angelina Jolie are Splittsville, kaput, arrivaderla, going their separate ways, having artisitic differences, counting community property, hopping on the monorail to DivorceLand, etc.

Just goes to show you that even little vials of each other's blood, multiple tattoos, and a couple of Cambodian orphans do not a solid marriage make. I've been singing that tune for years.

It's something of a motto at this point.


Maybe It's Time to Call Frozen Solomon Extra

OR, Some Go By Fire, Some By Ice, and Some Might Have to Settle for Both

Ted Williams' children would like to reach compromise

Those wacky Williams kids are at it again. A quick recap: son thinks Ted wanted to be cryonically frozen and perhaps later thawed out or to preserve his DNA for later sale. Daughter thinks he preferred to be incinerated.

Now they seem to be willing to compromise. Perhaps they can burn him up and then freeze the ashes. If they do it the other way and freeze first and then thaw, they'll be left with a set of ashes, the result simply tossing him in the furnace would acheive. Or maybe they can flash-fry the body and freeze the head. It's a well-established fact in the science fiction community that fully functioning, superstrong robot bodies will be available decades (if not centuries) before they can replace a human head. When the body is finished, they can mount the head on an automated exoskeleton and Ted can once again take to the field and battle the steroid-riddled Major League creatine monsters in pursuit of Barry Bonds' records.


Time to Put on Your Aluminum Helmet Dept.

Coincidence or Conspiracy?

The above guy has supposedly found prophetic representations of the 9-11 terrorist attacks in the geometrical folding of various denominations of US currency. Check it out for yourself.

I don't know what to make of it. If I fold myself in half, I can almost see up my ass.

Wiser words rarely spoken, my friends. I have to go sit near the window and wait for the Bat-signal.


After They Landed, the Flight Attendant Shut Them Out On Three Hits Over Six-and-a-Third Innings

Detroit Tigers Accused of Sexually Harassing Stewardess on Charter Flight


The It Would Be Better if Losing Contestants Were Summarily Executed, But I'll Settle For This Section

Have you taken any time to treat yourself to American Idol the summer TV sensation? It's half Star Search, half cockfight. Wannabe singers strut their often very limited stuff in front of a panel of three judges: there's Randy, who is a producer; Paula Abdul, once a talent-starved pop singer herself; and Simon, a catty-enough-to-be-a-day-player-on-Sex-in-the-City-but-somehow-still-British-and-straight-type.
Simon's the star of the show. He dismantles the wannabes that don't have the goods, and we [ok, I] hoot and holler and fall off the couch.

There's something exhilarating about watching the marginal talents of teenagers in funny pants and elaborate haircuts being eviscerated in front of the viewers they so desperate want to impress. When Simon lashes out, you can't help feeling like you're vicariously getting revenge on every talent-devoid exhibitionist that's subjected you to their utterly heartfelt karaoke rendition of "I Will Survive" [women] or "When a Man Loves a Woman" [men]. The only thing that could possibly make the show better (other than the torture of those two dinks who host the show and hand out hugs and high-fives to dissed contestants like cups of Gatorade at a 5k finish line) would be a TRL-style crawl on the bottom of the screen that would let viewers (like me! like me!) get in their own creative digs. They should let the home audience do their part in stomping on the misguided dreams of every Whitney, Mariah, and Britney clone that dares stand up and reveal her vocal shortcomings.

Or pit the losers against each other in a sissy-slapfighting bloodsport that would let them remain on the show for another week, when we'd get to take another crack at 'em. Watching this show and playing along in your living room ain't great for your karma in the long term, but it sure makes your soul feel new and shiny.

At least it does for me. Bring on the next fool singing a Billy Ocean song. I've got your "Carribean Queen" right here!

Tuesday, July 16, 2002


Dept. of Retractions

Orlando quadriplegic sues strip club over wheelchair access for lap dances

I don't like to take back what I've said, but I think this case warrants an exception.

Maybe we have just the right number of lawsuits. God bless the legal profession.

[Thanks to Dave S. for pointing me to this article.]


Hello, Cross-Promotion!

There's a little contest going on at (7/16 post). He's having a contest, I'm having a contest, it's the meeting of peanut butter and chocolate all over again.


That's Why They Call It The Pokey, If You Get My Drift, Wink-Wink, Nudge-Nudge Section

WorldCom executive didn't want SEC probe

...will settle for anal variety after incarceration.

Not that he'll go to prison, but ankle-grabbing stockholder can hope, can't they?


But the New Rat Leash Law is Going Over Like a Lingerie Special on TV

City of New York: Hippos, whales and ferrets, oh my!

The Most Important City in the History of the World is also considering bans on anything that moves on a 5th Avenue kabob cart.

That includes you, Rajinder.

Rajinder is a popular name for Indian men, and while I have never seen an Indian man running a kabob cart on 5th Avenue, it is a name sufficiently exotic to suggest whatever you like, Mr. Guy with Three Flags on Your Car.


Why Don't You Just Put a Boob-Shaped Target on the Television Screen Dept.

Oh, Wait--You Did.

Yahoo! News - CBS Calls Lingerie Special 'Fun'

America calls it one less reason to get up and check the mailbox for the catalog before snapping one off.


After They Charged the Nokia, Father Colombo Rang a Couple of Altar Boys for Some Milk, Cookies, and His "Free One"

Yahoo! News - Couple Hooked on Madonna

Let no one say that the Church is still in the Dark Ages.

Also, let no one say that I'm above taking a poke at the very vulnerable Catholic Church.

Not that kind of poke. Jesus.


Google This, Mofo

Some interesting searches that turned up my blog somewhere deep in the results:

"Lou Ferigno and steroids"
"Arnold and Stallone on steroids?"
"tijuana steroids"
"tijuana Viagra" [twice!]

I've said it before and I'll say it again--I love the goddamn Web.

I'll tempt the search engines gods into another ill-advised link to WFOoBH:

--"bestiality and Jean Claude Van Damme"
--"medical marijuana and Mel Torme"
--"Winona and Hot, Hot Sex with Some Guy Named Bunsen"

Google that.


Where You Can Get By on Two Dollars and One Land Mine Detector a Day

My good friend Dan is currently in Afghanistan, helping to establish the new, post-Taliban government. You can read about what he's doing here.

For real.

Monday, July 15, 2002


Yeah, You Heard Me

Lola Falana.


Celebrity Update Special

Catch Up With Yesterday's Newsmakers

*David Hasselhoff is crouching in the pantry of the Betty Ford clinic, clutching a jar of maraschino cherries and a bottle of cooking sherry that he paid a chef to leave in the cabinet behind a box of Mueslix.

*Advice Columnist Ann Landers, still dead.
[ed. note: Dear Abby,
You are next. Just walk toward the white light and get it over with. --Joe Black, Missoula, MO]

*You think you're getting something about Winona here. Not this time, Skippy.

*Know who else is still dead? John F. Kennedy. And things in this country just haven't been right ever since.

*OK, OK, I'll give you some Winona. This Italian guy obviously doesn't grasp the semantic nuances in the difference between "home" and "house." Silly man, we Americans will now laugh at you, even though you can put together a well-designed web page and write English more proficiently than most American high school graduates. You-a so seeeeely! You-a no speak-a so a-good! You-a love-a to eat-a spaghetti, no? Say hello to that crazy little Roberto Benigni guy for me, will you, Mario? Your name is not Mario? I'm-a so sorry, my man. Don't go get The Godfather to give me the cement overshoes! I really do love pizza, though! Now we are good-time American buddies!


That's Right, Fucking Payback Dept.

So I was pulling into the parking lot behind the Blockbuster on Sunset, and there's only one spot left. From out of nowhere this black Escalade comes whipping around the corner and pulls into the spot in front of me. I'm like, this is shit. I turn it up to ten and I'm out of my car, ready to go apeshit on the guy. I shout what the fuck, buddy? The asshole gets out of the car and shrugs, like sorry, I didn't see your fucking car nudging into the spot. My ass you didn't. What do you want me to do, move it now? Look, that guy's leaving. That's not the point, I tell him. Then he takes off his baseball cap to rub his head because it's getting loud. It's fucking Mel Gibson. Yeah that Mel Gibson. But I'm fucking on ten now and maybe he thinks he's gonna get away with this shit because he's a rich asshole. Get your ass out of my spot, Braveheart. Excuse me? You heard me. I'll do a Mad Max on you dude, just try me. You're fucking crazy, dude. Now he's scared. He turns around and starts to get back in the car. Then I deck him when he's not looking, pop him a good one behind the ear. That's right, I'm not gonna let him do a Lethal Weapon move on me so I whip him behind the ear. What the fuck was that? I don't know, maybe I didn't see your ear there. He gets in his car and moves it to another spot. I get my spot. Fuck him, fucking The River guy. I saw him give me the eye at the New Release wall. I just walked by him man, brushing my shoulder against him when I was going for What Women Want.

They want a parking spot, bitch.

It was a funny movie though.

Sunday, July 14, 2002


But He Would Have Bitten Her Heart Out of Her Chest If She Went After the Box Seats at Yankee Stadium

Giuliani Settles Divorce for $6.8 million

Not particularly funny, but an interesting article in Slate from Dahlia Lithwick, a writer and former divorce lawyer. She argues that even at almost seven mil, Rudy got off easy because he didn't have to see his reputation destroyed in a muckraking legal battle and because he's going to be pretty damn rich from here until he retires. She believes that getting his story out to the public and "being heard" is overrated, as is dragging on the proceedings to win custody of his kids--it's better that he just sign the alimony and child support checks, zip his lip, and get on with his life.

It's hard to understand how such an idealist had ever pursued a legal career.


Coming to Soon to Blue's Clues: Tranny the He-She Squirrel

Sesame Street to Add HIV-Positive Muppet

The South African version of Sesame Street is in the process of designing an HIV-positive character, who will be a five-year old, female muppet. Roughly 1 in 10 people in South Africa is infected, prompting the need for a character who can teach kids the reality of living with the disease.

What Fell Out of Bunsen's Head, in an unprecedented cyber-interctive-interweb partnership with the Children's Television Workshop, is soliciting suggestions for the new charcter's name. You may vote for the suggestions below or submit your own via e-mail or through the tag-board.

I'll get the ball rolling. Here are my picks:

--Bleedy the Needlehead
--Bye-Bye Baboon [catchphrase: "Don't get to know me, I'll be going bye-bye soon."]
[Does that one make you want to cry? I just did]
--Full-Blown Big Bird
--Infected Needle Prickle Me Elmo

[disclaimer: there is nothing funny about HIV or the AIDS virus. Really.]

[But a muppet?]

Friday, July 12, 2002


Remember That Joke "What do you call 10,000 lawyers at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean? A good start."? Well, How Friggin' True Dept.

If you're like me and you need yet another excuse to hate lawyers, why not take a looky-look at, a report on some of the countless cases circulating like a bad ham sandwich through the digestive track of our wonderful legal system.

Scroll down until you see the one about the guy who's suing God for not existing.

Thursday, July 11, 2002


International Exchange Dept.

First American apples arrive in Cuba

Floria Marlins get: Miguel Hernandez, 17-yr-old shortstop from Havana

Cuba gets: 100,000 Granny Smith apples, bag of produce to be named later


It seems that Cuba has gotten the better half of this deal. While Hernandez is a "five-tools" player, there is risk inherent in the acquisition of high-school age prospects. One hundred thousands apples will help meet some of the short-term goals of Cuba's capital city; there are hungry mouths to feed, and apples are both delicious and nutritious--a "double threat." This trade could look to be even more lopsided in time, as it is rumored the Marlins are sending over fifteen cases of pie crust to complete the transaction.


Maybe He'd Be Better Off With Fewer Rodeo Highlights

George Michael: Vid's critics make him feel unsafe in U.S.

I don't see what the problem is. I always found the Sports Machine to be a competent and sometimes thoughtful look at the week in sports. There's something comforting and quaint the way he flips a switch on that 1960s-sci-fi-looking control panel, like the flashing, multicolored buttons actually controlled the replay of the shortstop falling down on the way to first base, or the cowboy who's a little too slow getting a friendly goring from a noble piece of livestock.

Those were simpler times. I'd sigh, but instead I'll echo for emphasis:

Simpler times, my friend.


Future Great Moments in 911 History

Prosecutors decide to charge Iverson

You heard it here: He didn't do it.

Philadelphia Inquirer | 07/10/2002 | Transcript of Iverson 911 call

OK, maybe it's starting to look like he might have done it. I especially like the part where it's alleged Iverson has a habit of locking his wife outside of the house, naked, when they have a dust-up.

That, he probably did.

Wednesday, July 10, 2002


Paper or Plastic, Grandma?

Australian euthanasia group plans 'exit bags'

Just when my faith in humanity momentarily had been shaken, they keep pulling me back in.


What to Believe In When There is Nothing Left to Believe In Section

Right Now, Let's Just Take It One Day at a Time

Van Halen, Bertinelli Split

Hasselhoff in Rehab

If you had told me a mere two months ago that by the end of the summer, Sammy Hagar and David Lee Roth would unite for a concert tour, and that Eddie Van Halen and Valerie Bertinelli would be splitzville...well, I think you know where this is going. Diamond Dave and The Red Rocker/The Guy With a Thousand Songs About Tequila can somehow squeeze onto the same stage and rock out...but Eddie and Valerie can't continue to raise Wolfie under one roof? The car door of the cosmos is certainly ajar today.

And then you're going to tell me that Hasselhoff is not only on the sauce, but that he's trying to bat the monkey off his back with one of those red floatie things? Somone signal the guard tower! Mitch fell off the flotilla!


I need something to believe in.

Monday, July 08, 2002


This Guy's Obviously Never Watched a Minute of 'Cribs'

Can I Please, Please Actually Make Something Up Today? - Michael Jackson criticizes treatment of minority artists - July 6, 2002

While it's hard to dispute that the recording industry isn't as squeaky clean and corruption free, as say, the Nixon White House, it's hard to feel even the slightest twinge of sympathy for The Gloved One. The Man of a Thousand Faces has been victimized by the recording industry to the tune of a billion-dollar recording and publishing deal, a Fortress of Solitude-like compound/theme park/zoo/chickenhawk ranch, and half of the Beatles' back catalog. The Most Famous Jackson of Them All thinks that $25 million that Sony spent in promotion was not sufficient (this is the King of Pop, after all) to interest the public in his latest muscial offering, which has been deemed by all save the Members-Only jacket set to be a subpar effort at best.

Jacko cited James Brown, Mariah Carey, and Sammy Davis, Jr. as among the industry's victims of exploitation. He said Davis died penniless; the estate Sammy left behind is estimated at $6 million. Mariah Carey (she's black? who knew?) was recently given $28 million to NOT record another note for Virgin Records, who were happy to jettison the shakey, flakey, "dehydrated" diva before she could inflict another Glitter on the populace. And James Brown could not stop beating his wife long enough to offer a lament on his jerking around by his record label. Master P. also was unavailable for comment, preferring to fill his 24-karat bath tub with Cristal and "have a soak."

Boo hoo. I''ll volunteer to spend a night with Bubbles and the llamas and let the glove roam where it may for a mere ten-percent take of his victimhood. Ten percent? Make it one. I'll only need two mansions and a dozen cars to get over the emotional scars of staring at The Thriller's nose hole as he gives me the Full Macauley.


Splendid Splinter or Triple-Crown Popsicle?

Truly, You Can't Make This Shit Up Dept.

Williams' Body Already Frozen; Daughter Fighting

Ted Williams' son has allegedly transported his corpse to Arizona, where it was frozen so that one day the former baseball great's DNA could be harvested for sale. His daughter is disgusted that the body is already on ice at the Scottsale cryonics center. It's been alleged that the freezing may have been Williams' final wishes; he had also specified he didn't want a funeral.

If the DNA ever goes on sale, the implications for the State of Massachusetts are profound--within a couple of decades, the entire state could be populated entirely of Ted Williams and Nomar Garciaparra clones. Neither would make a particularly attractive woman. Even with cloning, the Red Sox will never win a World Series.

Somewhere, there's a crusty pair of a prostitute's panties, circa 1927, waiting to make sure it never happens.

[I don't mean to harp on this Curse thing, but what else can we think when Bostonians are putting their greats on ice? Ted Kennedy's staking out the Eternal Flame, grasping a shovel and waiting to unleash a new Camelot on our unsuspecting nation. But I'm on to you, Teddy, I'm on to you.]

Sunday, July 07, 2002


But Try and Find a Decent Piece of Pizza or a Bagel Dept.

Former roommate Dave saw a couple of "celebrities" at New York intersections (see "Star Search" post of 7/3).

When I go to work, I see Klingons talking on cellphones, smoking cigarettes and walking around in cargo shorts. At the mall, Tom Cruise was trying on a pair of platform shoes. Gary Coleman is my doorman.

And, of course, Winona stole my heart.


Post-Independence Day Special

Here's a back-to-work, post-holiday checklist so you can return to your office, cubicle, or modular workstation with peace of mind.

____: Limited/minimal/zero smallpox exposure

____: No anthrax inhaled [Remember anthrax? Remember when opening your mail was kinda scary? --sigh--...whatever happened to anthrax, anyway? I miss the word 'weapons-grade.']

____: Patted down at security checkpoint with complimentary "inseam check" by grabby rent-a-cop

____: Endured James Taylor's performance of sleep-inducing adult-contemporary folk rock following mediocre Hollywood fireworks display (Bunsen only)

____: Fireworks Safety Debriefing--Five fingers (per hand); five toes (per foot); two ears (Vincent Van Gogh, cop from Reservoir Dogs excused); two eyes (pirates, cyclops, Sandy Duncan excepted)

____: Peach cobbler not as good as rhubarb cobbler (fly-over states only)

____: Gunned down at El Al airline counter at LAX (two victims of "isolated incident" only)

____: Faked way through second verse to "America the Beautiful" by hum-singing, looking down at feet, trying to read lips of guy wearing American flag cape

____: Caused death of Ted "Splendid Splinter" Williams (Curse of Bambino only)

____: Muttered, "I think I'll have one more" previous to vomiting in Coleman cooler

____: Coors Light had vomity aftertaste

____: Remembered what exactly happened on July 4th, 17somethingsomething

____: Wite-out [tm] on computer screen from checking off checklist items [blondes, Polish-Americans from 'Truly Tasteless Jokes I and IV only]

Don't feel bad if you couldn't check off every item. As long as one of them is blank, you should be ready to return to the office grind. Now get ye to werk, or we'll lash ye scurvy dogs! Arrrr! [That was a pirate playing the part of your boss. Enjoy Monday.]

Friday, July 05, 2002


Time to Close Down Boston Before the Rain of Frogs Weekend Extra

Red Sox Legend Ted Williams Killed by Curse of the Bambino

CRYSTAL RIVER, Fla. -- Ted Williams, the Boston Red Sox revered and sometimes reviled ''Splendid Splinter'' and baseball's last .400 hitter, died Friday at age 83, striken dead in his Florida hospital bed by the Curse of the Bambino.

Williams had suffered a number of strokes and congestive heart failure, a series of ailments also believed to be brought on by The Curse. When contacted for comment, the ghost of Babe Ruth remarked, "I was getting a little tired of all this talk 'bout Ted being 'the greatest hitter who ever lived.' At 83 years old, he really was askin' for it."

The Curse of the Bambino dates back to Jan. 3rd, 1920, when Red Sox owner Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth to the New York Yankees for $125,000 dollars and a $300,000 dollar loan so that he could open the musical, "No, No, Nannette." Ruth had lead the Red Sox to their last World Series win in 1918. The Curse has been responsible for the Red Sox losing the World Series in 1975 and 1986, Bucky Dent's historic 1978 home run, massive cost and scheduling overruns on the Big Dig, a spike in instances of Sudden Infant Death syndrome in 1982, and when Bawby Dawnally's brothah Kahl gawt wicked racked in a 1985 Little League game when he forgawt to weah his cup. Wicked pissah, yes sih.

Wednesday, July 03, 2002


Anti-Darwinism Kidz Corner


This is So Easy That I Almost Feel Guilty for What You Are About to Read, but Here I Go Regardless Extra

Electric Utilities Warn, Don't Be 'Like Mike'

Power companies across the country have issued warnings to children to avoid replicating a scene in the movie "Like Mike." In the film, a child receives basketball superpowers by being electrocuted while retreiving a pair of sneakers from live power wires.

Southern California Edison has issued these additional child-safety guidelines:

--The movies don't lie: electricity really does give you super powers, but your parents would like to keep you "normal." If you ever want to shoot laser-beams from your eyes, you're going to need a fork and a power outlet.
--Do not approach your parents with an ice cube tray, offering to recreate your favorite scene in 9 1/2 Weeks;
--You need to take off from at least a fifteen-story building to generate the necessary lift to fly like Superman;
--Avoid men in surgical masks promising llama rides and a trip to the ranch;
--Your food will cook faster if all the lights and appliances in the house are left on during peak hours. Give mom a hand with dinner and turn on everything before it gets dark out.
--Don't Be Like Mike, Too: Avoid hanging around the locker room after a sweaty game of hoops in a tight pair of red briefs (likewise, it is advisable to avoid lingering in the sacristy after a sweaty session of altar-boying).
--The nanny is strangling your baby sister--you'd know that if Dad had left the baby monitor on while your mother was blowing him in the next room.
--Mommy and Daddy don't love you. Run away and join up with your local gypsy troupe, who will let you stay up all night playing with the good silverware;

[Writer collapsed from sheer exhaustion of pouring out obvious jokes suggested by real news item.]


See Previous Post if You Still Have Doubts Dept.

Simple Life Formula Discovered:

Too Much of Anything = Death
Too Little of Anything = Death
Correct Amount of Anything = Cancer
Everything in Correct Proportion, Optimal Balance Achieved, Outlook Clear, Life Peachy Keen = Hit by bus


Tomorrow's Study: Air, The Silent Killer

Drinking Too Much Water Can Kill You

Soldier's last words were "Jesus fucking Christ, Sarge, my back teeth are floating."


In California They Make You Drive

Why do people in convertibles always seem to be having fun? I don't think I've ever seen a soft-top Cabriolet or Le Baron shoot by without seeing the driver and passenger with heads thrown back, laughing like it was a traffic law, hair whipping into their eyes. And I stand there on the corner, waiting for the walk signal, wondering what fun I must be missing out on. Or I find myself sitting at a red light behind the wheel of my car with the permanent roof (actually, I have a sun-roof) and some Jetta pulls up next to me, the Van Morrison pouring out like Kool-Aid at an office picnic. They're not having fun--not yet. After a moment, the convertible Fahrvergnugen is unbridled and a virtual topless car wash keg party breaks out in the vehicle next to me. Hair whipping into faces (though they are at a standstill), an impromptu game of Twister, maybe three downs of slow-motion flag football. They leave a trail of scorched rubber as they speed away, sucking the sunshine into their tailpipe. Off to somewhere, fun.

My brakes squeak because I didn't pay the extra fifty dollar extortion for the "ultra-quiet" package. Squeaky brakes won't get you past the doorman at the convertible party. Trust me.

Tuesday, July 02, 2002


Excuse Me, Waiter, Is That a Fake Jug in My Soup?

Britney Spears Opens New York City Restaurant

Somehow, yours truly managed to snag an invite to the opening of Brit-girl's Nyla, the hottest 'aurant opening since J. Lo opened her superdeluxe burrito shack, Madre. The name is a clever combination of NYLon, Brit's favorite manmade fiber, and sAline, the wonder substance that gives her the va-va-voom that turns the heads of the Hollywood glitterati and teenybopper set alike. Let me tell you, the only thing hotter than the celebilicious crowd was the veal shank flambe. Hot, hot, hot! Supping next to uber-stud Matt Damon was eternal heartthrob Cuba Gooding, Jr., who pleased the roaring crowd by jumping up on a table and shouting his beloved catchphrase, "Show me the money!" And speaking of the money, Donald Trump made a grand entrance with a 14-year old Russian hooker. And The Donald has never smiled so wide as he did when his jailbait lovely fellated him as tickled onlookers cheered him on! Way to go, The Donald!

On display in a glass case between the bar and the dining room was Britney's totally intact hymen...guess you weren't the little tiger you said you were, Mr. Justin Timberlake!

Ripping into a crispy piece of fried chicken was none other than The Who's dead bassist John Entwistle, who slipped off the breathing A-list a mere two days ago, and boy did he look happy to be there! Who let this guy in? But even the stiff couldn't wreck the good-time vibe of Leo and Tobey, who shared a works at a back booth with Angelina Jolie as she bounced Trinh Phan, her newly-adopted Korean daughter that she found in a dumpster outside the World Cup Final game between...who cares? It wasn't America!

And lest you think that the 'eve was all about the youth brigade, Bob Hope and whatever contraptions that are keeping him alive purred quietly in a corner booth with the Ghost of Jerry Lewis. What's that? He's not dead yet, you say? Check next Tuesday's Obits!

Monday, July 01, 2002


Goes Great With Your Monday Morning Coffee Digest

In Case You Didn't See a Paper This Weekend

--The United States won the World Cup, despite having been eliminated over a week ago. "We were as surprised as everyone," remarked US coach Bruce Arena, who was awarded with the gold Cup trophy as he sat by the pool at his Massapequa, Long Island home. "A man speaking broken English just handed me this thing and thanked me for making sure the bad people don't blow up the world. Then he cleaned my pool."

--Adam Sandler captured the weekend's box office crown with his slapstick portrayal of America's wackiest cannibal serial killer in the film "Mr. Dahmer."

--The Who bassist John Entwistle dies while viewing This is Spinal Tap for the twenty-third time. "His last words were 'You can't really dust for vomit--how true!" reported an associate of Entwistle, who had momentarily left the living room to "freshen up" the bowl of Cheetos.

--I was not among the approximately six million retards who sat through Mr. Deeds.

--Retards were big this weekend. It says so here.

--Not that the retards were any larger than they usually were. That would be folly. It was a question of degree of popularity, not physicality.

--There is a guy on HBO who is taking pictures of naked people for supposedly artistic reasons. We'll see how artisitic they look after he spills his artsy seed all over the photographs. Not so artsy then, is what I'm saying here.

--This really happened: I got my car washed and it made me feel better. See below.

--Sparen, Schließen, Schassen
Deutschlands Zeitungsverlage stecken in der schwersten Finanzkrise ihrer Geschichte. Erstmals entlässt die "FAZ" jetzt Redakteure. Der Qualitätsjournalismus gerät in Gefahr. [If it helps, there was a picture of a woman at a newstand next to the article.]

--Somewhere, a little blonde girl got her first pony. You can look it up. The little girl, tragically, is retarded.


It Was Either This or a Lame Bit About a Buddy Comedy Dept.

Al Qaeda, Hezbollah Reportedly Joining Forces

Terrorist networks Al Qaeda and Hezbollah are joining forces, finally settling on a two-bedroom apartment in New York City's Upper East Side, the FBI has learned. The cohabitation will serve the dual purposes of allowing the terror concerns to more efficiently target American interests both domestically and overseas, as well as allowing the longtime partners to spilt the rent and utility bills.

"This development was a long time coming," said an FBI source close to the terror networks. "They found a cute place with lots of natural light, hardwood floors, and wonderful exposed brick. Hezbollah was practically living in Al Qaeda's place. After a while, you just have to ask yourself, 'Let's stop kidding each other, why pay two rents?' And it's much easier to hang just one schematic diagram of the New York City subway on the living room wall to plan the placement of dirty bombs within the transit system. Before, it was always back and forth between the maps, forgetting where they put the push pins indicating the location of the next atrocity."

Additionally, the new, shared residence is convenient to two bus lines, a Circuit City electronics store, and an IMAX large-format movie theater. "A movie theater is a great place to leave a suspicious-looking brown paper bag," said the source. "Plus, Hezbollah loves the IMAX film with the dolphins."

[No jokes regarding camels and parking spaces, Islamic law calling for the stoning to death of homosexuals, or IKEA picture frames were considered in the production of this feature.]


Let's Pretend to Care for Just One More Minute

Brazil won its fifth World Cup early Sunday. Doesn't it seem like they spend four years distracting us with Gisele and whatever else they have down in Sao Paolo (assimilated Nazis? those minty drinks and fried plantains?), then swoop in and win another Cup? Woo-hoo. The guy with the stupid haircut scored a couple of goals, and I really don't care to even bother finishing this sentence.

Keep the silly Cup. Send more supermodels.

About this site

This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
If You Like Bunsen, Then You'll Love Bunsen