Airplane!

I LOVED this movie when I was a kid, despite the fact I had to sneak behind my parent's back to see it. There are so many funny parts to this film that I know I'm omitting a few you feel should be here.

Oh Joy!

Guess what, guys! When I was browsing iTunes yesterday I came across the most marvellous vista ever. You have to SIT DOWN first before continuing to read.






Okay, are you sitting?





Ready?




Here goes, New Kids on the Block is coming out with a new album this September!! Isn't it just doggone terrrrrrrriffic! Finally some good news in an otherwise bleak and dark world.

Welcome back Donnie, Danny, Joey, Jordan, Jonathan!! The world went to hell since your last album.

So what if they are mostly old men, they will always be New Kids on the Block to me. Yay!

I can just see myself running across a sandy beach, with my hair braided and beaded, and my arms stretched out, ready to embrace their album cover.

I'm especially a huge fan of the New Kid with the horse face.

Disclaimer: I like horses, and I prefer horse faces on horses. Thank you.

Clay Aiken is a Father

Boy, was I wrong about him...I think.

Obama wins Guam by 7 votes

Which means all seven people voted.

I thought I'd beat the late night pundits to that line.

The time is drawing near folks. Will it be McCain, who, by enlarge, offers a continuation of the present administration.

Will it be Hilary? If I start on Hilary I wont stop. It's too good and too easy.


Or will it be Barack Obama, with questionable political associations and a slightly suspicious personal past?

Who I would vote for

I say Vote for Cathy. This is one tough cookie who can put ANY dissident in his or her place by merely striking a few keys on her PC! Just imagine what she can do as commander-in-chief. Her temper, however, might be a major set back. Especially when she learns that - without consulting with her first - a group of Catholic nuns have been invited to the White House to perform an Easter liturgical dance. Can you say mushroom cloud? Or how about Terry Nelson from Abbey-Road, Abbey-Roads2, and Up Your Street. A man who can sustain so many blogs at one time would burn the midnight oil at the White House trying to get the the issues remedied. And since Cathy claims that Terry leads a relatively quiet life, I can guarantee you no scandals in a Terry Nelson administration! But if militant and stealthy is what you desire in the war on terrorism, then I recommend Adrienne at Adrienne's Catholic Corner. With full and absolute jurisdiction over the Soprano family and their cohorts, all she has to do is nod her head and someone gets it (can you imagine if she targeted Ted Kennedy and he turned up missing? People would think he was passed-out somewhere on a beach or on the kitchen floor. No one would ever suspect. How cunning. How evil. Ingenious!). Having said that, she is also generous in helping those who are in need and is all too willing to grant any favors to anyone who asks politely (VERY politely). But keep in mind that if she does any favors for you, she may one day call upon you to do a favor for her (gulp!). And in the political arena, that is all but a certainty.

Ah, you might ask, wouldn't Tom, the author responsible for the quackery that gets posted on this blog, make a good president? Well, first and foremost I'm flattered, but the answer is no. Because I live in Las Vegas, it would be a natural propensity, done unconsciously, to turn the White house into a go-go bar. And that, ladies and gentleman, would make Bill Clinton, a potential First Lady, very jealous. He would accuse me of getting all my ideas from his administration, followed by unsolicited helpful advice on how NOT to get caught (whatever he means by that).

And since I'm already politically binging, here's a nice little quote to remember former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld by:

"I don't do quagmires."

This is bad...

...but I can't help laughing. I think Father Erik would laugh, too.

Demented Yultide

Okay, here's how to envision the setting of this poem. A guy is out in his front yard minding his own business when the unthinkable happens - as Santa has to go potty in between stops.


Christmas Phooey

Those weren’t snowflakes
That struck your head
As Santa’s reindeers flew overhead
The reindeers giggled at the scene below
Their target dazed by the mighty blow
“Where did it come from?
What on Earth hit me?
I came outside just to play some frisbee.
Hey, you there, Mister!
You across the street!
Did you throw me your car battery?”
The stenchy smell that clouded his senses
Was much more foul than previous offenses
Lightheaded just before he passed out
He saw one last image before he blacked out:
The pesky reindeers towing a sleigh
With tiny hooves whisking Santa away
In the night sky they looked like tiny ants
He could see St. Nick pulling up his pants.


By Naughty-I-Ain't-Getting-Nutt'n-For-Christmas-Tom

This classic was slightly altered from its original version, but the gist of the poem remains intact.