I can’t tell if those are carrots or misshapen Cheeto’s. They’re prolly carrots, given the Gubernator’s penchant for fitness and health. Donkeys like carrots, too.
And just to make up for that thinly veiled political jab at Mr. Schwarzenegger, here’s this bonus: California Tax Dollars at work.
[Both .gif’s prolly found here.]
Oooh. This just reeks of serious Babe Magnetage.
(bob-A’ mog-neh-tahzh‘, fr., noun pl.)
The proud owner of this all-weather cruiser has mastered the art of cobbling together leftovers from Revelle models in full scale. No paint required. Bald front tires don’t matter, as the rear set provides traction, assisted by a rotted plywood box full of cobble ballast supported by seatbelt-strap come-alongs. The front tires act as skis. He’s also saved money on the headlights: one for hi-beam, one for low. Pure efficient genius.
“Hey, Babe, hop in! We goin’ to the tree-plowin’ competition! Sorry the heater don’t work, slide over here. I got the cd player installed underneath the seat (Yeah, the milk crate. I bolted it down this time. Here, put this cardboard on it) but weasels chewed up my speakers and now they just rattle. How ’bout singin’ Bobby McGee?”
[Images from here.]
All it took to send them into rebellion was one innocuous comment.
“Hey Bob! Bob Oso! Y’all truckin’ Granny Smith again?” The Jonagolds had had enough.
[Related post here.]
Look here. Bunk knows peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and you, Reese, are no peanut butter and banana sandwich maker.
What young Bunky liked better were peanut butter and sweet pickle sandwiches, combining the flavor of Jif with the crunch of baby gerkins. And vice versa.
Fortunately, Reese acknowleged that these bastardized confections have artificial flavor, so you can rest assured that it doesn’t taste exactly like the King. They made up for the chicanery by labeling the bag, “Collector Edition,” thus snagging all the compulsive candy-collectors investors hoping to score big bucks months or years from now in the Reese’s Cups futures market.
So just how many bags do you have stashed away in your safe deposit box?
[Image from Bockety.]
Neatorama is amazing. Their crack team of webminers found Joliet Jake and Elwood Blues recast as Rubber Duckies. Made me wanna take a warm bath with an 8-track player nearby belting out Sam and Dave’s Greatest Hits…
Until I followed the Neatorama link and found this:
“Ah Pity Da Foo Who Don’t Lather, Rinse, Repeat!”
No way am I getting wet with Mr. T unless it’s raining. Other excellent Mr. T accouterments may be found here, here, and especially here.
Related Rubber Duckie report from the world-renowned Strutts News Services may be found here, and for you afficionados, more specific duck info here.
And Bunk just broke his own record for most links in a single post. G’head and click on ’em, but be back here in time for dessert, okay?
Beer lobe’s missing.
[Image found here as a big ‘ol honkin’ bitmap. Good thing I fixed it for you dia-luppers.]
There are several things that are just not right with this video, and Johnny Cash is not one of them.
1. I found it on an Aussie website.
2. He’s on the Muppet Show. The muppets do not deserve to be in the presence of the Man In Black, even if Jim Henson is dead, too.
3. Mr. Cash doesn’t play guitar on the clip, only harmonica, and he had to bring two of them.
4. There are Disney Channel Mouse droppings on the lower left hand corner of the Utoobage.
“HEEERE’S JOHNNY!” from 1959 with some serious chord modulation, and few folks could sing it. (Earl Scruggs did, but that’s another post.) Released in September 1956/Sun Records, made it to number 17 on the charts.
This one from San Quentin. Released in July1969/Columbia Records, made it to number 2 on the charts.
From Joel Whitburn’s “Top Pop Singles 1955-1999” there’s this:
“Born on 2/26/32 in Kingsland, Arkansas. Brother Roy led the Dixie Rhythm Ramblers band in late 1940’s. In U.S. Air Force, 1950-54. Formed trio with Luther Perkins (guitar) and Marshall Grant (bass) in 1955. First recorded for Sun in 1955. On Louisiana Hayride and Grand Ole Opry in 1957. Own TV show for ABC from 1969-71. Worked with June Carter from 1961, married her in March 1968. Carl Perkins and The Statler Brothers were members of his touring troupe from 1968-75. Ranks within the top three male vocalists of the Country charts. Charted 136 Country hits, 1955-98. Daughter Rosanne Cash and step daughter Carlene Carter had successful singing careers. Elected to the Country Music Hall of Fame in 1980. Won Grammy’s Living Legends Award in 1990. Guested on many TV shows. Inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1992.”
RIP J.C.
Arrow Shirts had been mocking Bob mercilessly since elementary school, and they decided to get one last jab at him with this ad. Bob kept wishing that Arrow Shirts would stop thinking about him and just leave him alone.
Epilogue:
Bob is now CEO of MetaInfrared International, married Miss Amazon 1995, has four kids.
Paul graduated from Ball State with an associate degree in geology, and balances tires at a Goodyear store in Indianapolis, married and divorced three times, raises and trains rottweilers.
Steve, well let’s just say he did some really really bad things, and won’t be eligible for parole until he’s about 270 years old.
[Image from here.]
Amazing. What attention to detail. Not only does he have the Jetstream airbrushed via spraypaint, masked it to overlap the brakelight assembly, he has at least two “starbursts” that serve to make this humperwagon shine! Since the shocks are broken, when dweebness drives over speed bumps at 30mph, the Jetstream paint job appears to be straight. Way cool.
Now you might think that the sloppy masking job on the door trim was an accident, but it’s just another subliminal signal to the high school hotties that “Yeah, I gotta hot sled here, but I’m a down-to-earth-kinda guy.”
And just to push that subtle point, there’s the Christmas Tree air freshener with mooneyes hanging on the rearview mirror, visible just to the right of the bone-marrow red front post that accents the antenna. (“Oooh! A four-door! My dad says I can go if my brothers can come along, K?”)
But here’s the BEST PART: The Governor of Dorkland advertises his responsible side to the future recipient of a romantic afternoon date at Arby’s by upending his spray can to clear the nozzle, thus creating three little octopi on the rear post. Pure efficient genius.
Mr. Aerosol, thank you for photographing it so nicely, and for posting it on the internest for our dropped-jaw amazement. And your cassette of RamJam’s greatest hit? It’s in the glove compartment under the used handiwipes with a raisin stuck to it.
It’s the weekend. You have time for this.
The recipe was found here, via here, via here, sort of.
Let’s Make a Band!
1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first article title on the page is the name of your band.2. http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album. (You might have to click new random quotes at the bottom)3. http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/
The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.You then take the pic and add your band name and the album title to it, then post your pic.
Okay. Here’s what I got, and it looks just like all the other
Ricki Lee Jones-meets-Cyndi Lauper bluegrass mashups populating the discount racks next to the records of many other female artists whose first names end in “i.”
Well, that was a fun fifteen minutes, but I was hoping my album would come out more like one of these classics:
Yep, she’s hot, even without “Ivy Pete and his Limbomaniacs” but with the threat of instant depilatory immolation. Dump the dweeb, doll, and take a ride with ElectroGlide in my V-8 sled of love.
Four musical women, preggo with the children of other spouses? This one bothers me. A lot.
Paul Taubman sold more albums that he could count on one hand, but unfortunately he was knocked off the bottom of the charts within minutes after the first release by Ivy Pete. What’s amazing is that Taubman wasn’t a pianist, but played a two-note pre-colombian ocarina in rooms with plenty of standing room only.
And what is the worst album in Bunk’s collection? It is not only the worst, it’s one of my favorites:
Recorded in 1975, Hollerin’ features the unforgettable Leonard Emanuel and others, live at Spivey’s Corner North Carolina. (Hear clips here or here.) The double record set came in very handy back when Bunk was still slumming around in apartments. If the neighbors were making too much noise, I’d just slap side one on the turntable, crank it up, and laugh and laugh and laugh. Lucky you, it’s now available on CD, and well worth the bucks for the entertainment. Try it on your loud neighbors. Believe me, everyone shuts up when they hear it. This works.
Tacky Raccoons 