Archive for the ‘A Bunk Original’ Category
Not sure how true this is, but it’s kinda true.
Roman Gladiators were the true ancestors of American Football. Brute force, team sport, with audience participation. Thumbs up or thumbs down from the fans could determine life or death of the defeated.
Top: Flag On The Play – Personal foul, 10 yards.
Bottom: Offensive foul – Death By Maggots.
Once the Romans left Britain, the locals needed something to kick around. Some wags found a Roman skull, decided to kick it all the way to the next village. The folks at that village didn’t like it much, and kicked it back to the first. Association Football was born.
Kicking a skull up and down a dirt path is hard on the feet, so the Roman skull was supplanted by the obvious replacement – an inflated pig’s bladder.
Association Football was too hard to pronounce in normal conversation, so it was renamed Assoc. Football, and those who played it were Assoc.’ers – hence the name “soccer,” and it caught on, even though all of the world still called it Football. But it wasn’t good enough for some. The game had lost its Gladiator roots (except for the drunks fighting on the sidelines).
Then one day in the early 1800s, someone got fed up and wondered, “What’s the point of kicking a stinking inflated chunk of porcine offal back and forth?” and decided to pick up the ball and run it directly into the opposition, knocking out teeth, drawing blood and breaking bones in the process. The game of Rugby was born.
Once Rugby was introduced into the States via Canada, America decided some changes had to be made. No more round scrum, the teams had to line up and hit head on in order to move the little leather covered ellipsoid mere yards at a time, and Woody Hayes was invented.
All of this requires physical protection, so the players wear helmets, shoulder pads and crotch protectors. They’re bred to be corn-fed behemoths of people capable of unprecedented brute force trained to bash each other’s heads into the ground. I love it.
[Vid found here.]
The Portuguese Man O’ War is amazing, as it’s not a single animal, but a colony of several bizarre organisms, all dependent on the others for survival. One provides transportation, one lures and traps food, one processes it, one cooks, and the other one does laundry and runs the blog.
The harmless gasbag idiot-animal floats while dangling his nasty stinging-tentacled buddies as deep as 160 feet below the surface. How they find each other and decide to hang together is a mystery to me, unless it has something to do with cheap beer, tasers and fraternity parties.
I saw one washed up on a beach when I was a kid without knowing what it was – thought it was an inflatable toy dolphin with seaweed attached. Yeah, I poked it with a stick, and yeah, I found out what the insides of a Portuguese Man O’ War smelled like, as did everyone else within a quarter mile downwind.
When the floating-gasbag idiot-animal washes up on shore and dies, it takes the other idiot-animals with him, and they can’t do anything about it because their free ride is over. Such is the life of a sycophant.
The missus informed me that there were words to that great theme, and she’s right. The closing credits for the early episodes included “The Cartwrights” singing the theme (after apparently stumbling out of a saloon/cat house joint venture in Carson City) and mounting up to pick fights with and wreak havoc on the local populace before they rode back to their fortified enclave known as The Ponderosa:
[Little Joe] I’ve got a flair for women everywhere, Bonanza!
[Hoss] BONANZA! ¡AI-AI-AI!
[All] I’m gonna call on any gal at all, she’s gonna welcome me.
[Ben] I’m not afraid of any pretty maid, Bonanza!
When I give a kiss to any pretty miss,
She’ll learn a lot from me!
[All] One for four, four for one
This we guarantee!
We got a right to pick a little fight – Bonanza!
If anyone fights any one of us,
He’s gotta fight with me!
BTW, the best comment on that Utoobage link was posted by someone named 75yellowraven:
“144-441 what does that mean?”
The lyrics and acting were so laughably absurd that the clip was canned. Years later Lorne Greene sang the song with much different lyrics: Lorne Greene singing The Theme To Bonanza.
But that’s not the weird part. The Bonanza Theme was orchestrated by David Rose, same guy who composed “The Stripper,” a number of TV theme songs, and this horrible piece of 1960s grocery aisle music:
Bet you couldn’t last the whole two-point-five minutes of that, so here’s almost a whole hour of The Beat Farmers circa 1984, featuring the late Country Dick Montana on drums, vocals, beer and belligerence.
Hope that grabs on, holds and squeezes you for this edition of The Saturday Matinee. Have a great weekend, even if you have to mow the snow.
I like the real one better because it looks like The Missus, only shorter. She got kinda humpy as I was re-adjusting the image, but the girl’s prolly got a face like a delaminated tire.
Unlike The Missus.
[Original image found here.]
8:9:10 11/12/13 – The 8th Second of The 9th Minute of The 10th Hour of The 11th Day of The 12th Month of The 13th Year of The CenturyWednesday, 11 December 2013
Second : Minute : Hour; Day / Month / Year
Sequential time and date convergence, smallest to largest increments.
A similar sequence occurred at 8:09:10 on November 12 2013, but this one rocks. Unless I’m missing something, we’ll have no more great time/date convergences for a very long time.
Adding the numbers and dividing by 21 (the number of the current Century for those of you not keeping track) results in the Number 3, the minimum number of points to describe a circle, a plane and a non-collapsible polygon; the noblest of all digits according to Pythagoras and one of only 9 Heegner Numbers, the Atomic Number of Lithium (3rd in line after Hydrogen and Helium), the number of physical dimensions we’re able to sense, and it’s also a crowd.
It all means something, I just don’t know what.
It amazes me to think that in September 1620, 102 people were so fed up with the English monarchy that they were willing to risk a dangerous late-season voyage across the Atlantic (that lasted over two months at sea) to a new land to establish a free colony.
Disease, scurvy, starvation and weather exposure took their toll, and half of them died before the following spring. In March of 1621, the survivors sought to establish Plymouth Rock, ventured ashore, and met an escaped British slave named Squanto who spoke English.
His first words to William Bradford were:
“Dude. This is a swamp. You f’d up. Y’all gonna die an’ stuff.”
Bradford replied, “Bro, WTF?”
“Here. Plant some of this, but put a fish under it.”
“Dude, no way.”
“Way. Just do it.”
“K. By the way, we got a plow.”
“Get out. You got a what? What you need a plow on a boat for?”
“We got one. You got an ox?”
“Ordered one on Amazon, but he ain’t showed up yet. They walk slow.”
“Cool. We’re gonna pop some pheasant for supper. Y’all wanna come?”
“Hell yeah. We’ll bag some Bambi and see you about 4.”
And the rest is history.
Have a great holiday, folks, and never forget the Reason for Thanksgiving.
[Image from here.]