Happy Halloween!

It's finally here! Do your part and sacrifice a small animal to Samhain today! Let's get that sun back in the sky!

Voting for the most Unholy Hell-iday concludes at the stroke of midnight tonight! Be sure to give a shout out for your favorite pagan celebration!

Halloween Makes Me...

Halloween Makes Me...

...summon a flock of flying monkeys.

Halloween Makes Me...

Halloween Makes Me...

...more likely to be possessed!

Halloween Makes Me...

Halloween Makes Me...

...more likely to commit human sacrifice!

Halloween Makes Me...

Everybody knows you shouldn't celebrate the ancient Celtic/Druidic festival of Samhain, commonly known to we 21st century Americans as Halloween (or Hallowe'en if you're into majick and wear Hot Topic stuff). Fortunately, I've celebrated Halloween every year of my life...so you don't have to! Over the next couple of days I'll show you what celebrating Halloween makes you do!

So, without further ado...

Halloween Makes Me...

...more likely to dabble in black majick.

Hair! Part 2

Why Do You Bob Your Hair, Girls?
by Blind Alfred Reed, 1927

Why do you bob your hair, girls?
You're doing mighty wrong.
God gave it for a glory
And you should wear it long!
You spoil your lovely hair, girls,
To keep yourself in style;
Before you bob your hair, girls,
Just stop and think a while.

Why do you bob your hair, girls?
It is an awful shame
To rob the head God gave you
And bear the flapper's name.
You're taking off your covering,
It is an awful sin;
Don't ever bob your hair, girls,
Short hair belongs to men.

Why do you bob your hair, girls?
It does not look so nice;
It's just to be in fashion,
lt's not the Lord's advice.
And every time you bob it
You're breaking God's command
You cannot bob your hair, girls
And reach the Glory land.

Why do you bob your hair, girls?
It's not the thing to do;
Just wear it, always wear it,
And to your Lord be true.
And when before the judgment
You meet your Lord up there,
He'll say, "Well done! For one thing,
You never bobbed your hair!"

Hair!

Hey fellas! Thinking about growing your hair out? You'd better think twice before your hair-do becomes a hair-don't!

I'm in BIG trouble! I'm going to propose to my church that the missionaries also be trained in cutting hair. It's really important!

In all seriousness, this is the last of the Nutty Fundie Posts (NFP) for a while. I just couldn't resist this one! I took solace in this website, although I've probably just been deceived by the heathen!

Happy Wednesday

Here's something for all those lonely nights.

Unholy-days!

Which holiday is the most EVIL?

The Devil's Birthday: Halloween

Hellzahoppin'!: Easter

Not-So-Funny: Valentine's

Evil Eve: New Year's

The Feast of Babylon: Christmas

The Stars are Alligned: Birthday

You decide! But be warned...if you celebrate any of these seemingly innocent days of mirth, you may be punished with an eternity of turning on a spit in the darkest depths of Hades! I tried to warn you!

The New Barbie

Hubba-hubba! Here she is, folks! Strutting right off the street corner and into your home! Say hello to the new Barbie!

"Bling Bling Barbie" is set to be the hot-hot-hottest Christmas gift this year! Not only does she come with a faux fur coat, she also features accesories such as a faux-diamond studded cell phone, a faux-fur purse, and lipstick to put on those big, fat collagen lips!

Seriously, is this not one of the more skank-o-rrific things you've ever seen? I can just see it now. Little Suzy trickin' on the street corner with her new Bling Bling Barbie.

What's next? Pimp-Daddy Ken?

For Florida

You Know You're a Presbyterian When...

...your church government reneges on the divinity of Christ, the immaculate conception, the Resurrection, and the doctrine of salvation, resulting in an enormous schism that splits the church in half. Oh wait...that really happened!

Delicious!

This baby has been carved out of marzipan.

Marzipan: (mar-zee-pan) n. a sweet paste made of ground almonds and sugar, often with egg whites or yolks, used as a layer in cakes or molded into ornamental shapes.

I'm just gonna leave it at that. This one's just too weird for even me to touch.

You Know You're a Presbyterian When...

...you ask the person next to you to be quiet during the annual Messiah Christmas sing-along.

"This isn't a game, solider!"

Well? Do YOU have FEAR? I know I have it. I have it in spades. Although I just HAVE to say, I've started doing something ever since playing Halo on my PC that is greatly affecting my FEAR experience...

Since the hero (the person through whose eyes we see the action--that's why they call it a First Person Shooter) never speaks in these F.P.S. games, I've taken to speaking FOR him and responding to what the supporting characters have to say. Maybe it's because I've been playing so much 'Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney' on my DS (you talk into the DS microphone during the trials! "Hold it!" "Objection!" "Take that!"), or maybe it's the effect of living alone for so long.

Whatever the reason, there's nothing more fun than being briefed by the chief who points at you and says, "You're the man for this operation!" and shaking your head NO, saying to the computer screen, "Get somebody else! I-I've got a dental appointment!"

So it's my first day on the job. Me and my partner are investigating a haunted office building and we stumble across a body that's had its lower jaw completely removed. My partner says, "I'll stay here. You go on ahead and check things out." And what do you think I said?

"Are you KIDDING? I'm the newbie! And there's a mangled body drenched in blood sitting here! Why don't YOU go and I'll stay here with the body?!"

"What are you waiting for? Move out!" comes the response from the partner that cues up automatically if you stand still for too long.

"I'm going! I'm going! But this job SUCKS! "

As a result, the whole FEAR experience, which is meant to terrify the pants off anyone who plays this game, has become quite comical. Take, for example, what happens moments after leaving your partner to investigate the deserted building. You're walking along...suddenly, you see the figure of the cliché little-Japanese-ghost-girl-with-hair-covering-her-face dart past a partially open door. You could be quiet and let the tension mount--or you could say what I said: "HOLY CRAP!! What the crap was THAT?!"

You burst through the door only to find that no one is on the other side. Then you walk very slowly through the next room, saying, "He-hello? Hello? Um...hello?" like Madeline Kahn in "What's Up, Doc?"

I might as well be playing the Looney Tunes theme as I play. But you've got to do something when you've got dialogue like:

Aide: Senator, Mr. Fettel has escaped from the psychic insane asylum and is controlling an army of clone soldiers with his mind.

Senator: (very Charleton Heston--a bit TOO serious) My....God....!

You Know You're a Presbyterian When...

...you go to a concert or play and everybody claps at the end...while you fight the urge to sit on your hands.


**Note: As a member of the Presbyterian Church in America, I'm allowed to make these sorts of nose-tweaking observations. You know. Like Catholics poking fun at being Catholic (and honestly, what's NOT funny about being Catholic?). It's all in good fun. Unless, of course, you're NOT a Presbyterian and start making fun of us. Then it's a hate crime. There's the disclaimer.**

Women and the Wheel

DISCLAIMER! To females and Presbyterians: THIS POST IS NOT MEANT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY! Enjoy!

I'm madder than a NASCAR racer with square wheels over this claptrap that women are just as safe behind the wheel as the only people who ought to be driving: red-blooded American MEN!

I've replayed the car crash I was in this weekend over and over again in my head. For those of you who don't know, I was sitting at a stoplight on Friday night, minding my own business, when suddenly I heard I loud crash and everything went black for a split second. I opened my eyes. Thinking rapidly, I realized that the reason my neck was hurting was because of whiplash. Then it occurred to me what had happened. Some fool rear-ended me!

With a newfound sense of mortality, I flicked on the emergency lights and looked over my shoulder at the driver of the other car. Her eyes, for I'm sure you've already guessed it was a girl that slammed into my completely stopped car, were wide with worry. She followed me into the parking lot of a nearby apartment complex.

I hopped out, assessed the damage, then walked over to her car. Knowing that stressful situations are only made worse when people are hopping mad, I assumed an air of deep concern as I stooped by her window and asked, "Are you okay?! Oh, I'm so glad you're all right!"

I was met with the following words:

"I am so sorry. I wasn't even paying attention. My mind was in a million other places."

Of course it was! Folks, driving is a privilege, not a right. I shudder to think what would have happened had that ding-bat been driving one of those gas-guzzling SUVs. I realize the ladies like to drive those things to feel "safer" because it makes them bigger than everybody else on the road, but let's think about this: When a woman is sitting in a car, the seat all snug and cozy, the air nice and warm, soft music playing, a toasty mocha latte in her hand, and the pretty scenery racing by, what is she most likely to do?

That's right! Snuggle up and go to sleep! Or put on make-up!

As I write this there's an army of mini-tanks being driven by emotional and unstable females who are more interested in primping and keeping their eyes on their hair, rather than where they should be keeping 'em; on the poor Joe they just squashed under their two-ton wheels!

If I had my way, women who want to buy one of those Death-UVs would be required to participate in a special class that would evaluate their driving before the salesman handed them the keys.

It would be similar to a monster-truck rally only better. The women would have to drive around a fairly straightforward obstacle course full of fluffy critters like bunnies and squirrels. Then we'd get some really big truck, like that Big Foot from the 1980s, to chase after them while their husbands sit in the stands and rate their driving skills. If she can get through the course without swerving off the road to mourn for Little Bunny Foo-Foo or try to talk to about her feelings, she's okay in my book.

And if she doesn't pass the test, she would forfeit her license for a whole year and only let her husband drive. If she's not married, she'll have to walk or take the bus or hire somebody to drive her around. Unemployment would decrease and it would give our economy the much-needed shot in the arm it needs to get itself back on track.

Mark my words, after experiencing Forky's Monster-Truck driving test, she'll know how the rest of us guys feel when we see her careening down the highway in six-passenger vehicle with herself as the sole passenger. She'll think twice before saying, "No, honey, let me drive."

And I wouldn't have to get myself a new bumper!

These women are right where they belong: in the back seat!

Coming Soon

New posts coming soon! I took a long weekend and underestimated the amount of work that would be waiting for me back here on the 42nd Floor. But don't worry. There will be updates aplenty in the near future! But for now, I've got to earn that paycheck o' mine.

The Shakespearean Show has been put to death. It's over. Oh, thank God, it's over. But just because I'm no longer doing Shakespeare, don't think for one minute that I'm going to cut my gorgeous hair.

In closing, let me just say that I think the last time I was this glad to be done with a show and rejoining the rest of the human race was after I got back from that national tour of the holocaust show for children.

Beautiful Cocker

Who wouldn't want a dog that looks like this? Such a majestic creature, no?

Remember When...?

A Nice Day

(John types at his computer. A thick haze hovers over Everycity as the traffic belches hot, toxic fumes into the brisk fall air)

Ground: ...John...?

(John doesn't hear the call of the Ground at first)

Ground: ...John? John, it's me!

John: Huh? Whu--oh. Hello, Ground.

Ground: Nice day, n'est-ce pas?

John: Yeah, it's--hey. I didn't know you knew French.

Ground: I look awfully inviting today, don't I, John?

John: I don't know. I haven't looked recently.

Ground: Aww...now that just hurts my feelings. And after I gussied myself up and everything.

John: "Gussied"?

Ground: What's happening at work today, John? You look a little forlorn.

John: Oh...a lot of crap. And it's not even work related.

Ground: Consuela isn't bothering you?

John: No.

Ground: And Jerrie isn't bothering you?

John: No.

Ground: So what's is bothering you?

John: Well...(John tells the Ground all)...and I kind of feel like--I don't know. Like I want to sleep the sleep of death right now.

Ground: That's very interesting. Since you have nothing to live for, why don't you throw yourself out the window? It's a nice day for it.

John: I didn't say I didn't have anything to live for. Besides, I enjoy the view from the 42nd floor. I mean, things feel sorta bleak right now but it's nothing I can't deal with.

Ground: Someone might give you a cocker spaniel.

John: (thinks it over) I'll be right there.

(he runs at the window)

Window: Don't even think about it!

Ground: Aw nuts. Foiled again.

Surgeon Today, Lawyer Tomorrow

Can I tell you how much I love my Nintendo DS?

I just got a new game yesterday that puts you in the operating room and has you perform surgery on patients! So far I've removed tumors, replaced a heart valve, and eradicated a mysterious virus that's threatening mankind.

And tomorrow another game comes out that puts you in the courtroom! You gather evidence, interview witnesses, then try to prove your client not-guilty! It's a hoot!

And, for the record, a Nintendog never has to have its calcified inner-ear removed.

The Lady is a Tramp!

"The Night Before"

J-Bo: Cocker spaniels are extremely high-maintenance. They're moody and they have serious health problems all their lives. You're constantly taking them to the vet.

Me: Good Lord. How did they survive evolution?

J-Bo: They didn't. They were bred. They shouldn't exist.

Who knew learning about cocker spaniels could be so much fun?! Do you know anybody who was foolish enough to buy a cocker spaniel? If you do, feel free to point at them and laugh! Neurotic, ill-tempered, sickly, and destructive, it makes you wonder if the Tramp knew what he was getting into. I wouldn't give a cocker spaniel to--well--to a dog!

Check it!

Oh, the horror!

"The Morning After"

Don't Move! Hug a Tree!

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And now I have no idea where I am...
I'm lost in the woods. Why didn't I stick
To the road more traveled by?

Where the crap am I? What was that sound?

Help, help. Someone please help me.

by Robert Frost (with some slight changes by M. Fourchette)

The Results Are In!

"BARE ANKLES" WINS!

It was a long and heated fight, but in the end, "Bare Ankles" came out on top! There can be no doubt that receeding hemlines have caused a seemingly endless outpouring of problems for our "enlightened" society of today.

Just look at what happened when the first woman flashed a bit of ankle!

We went from this...

Tasteful fashion

To this...

Scandalous swimwear

To this!

Modern dress of today

All it takes is a quick glimpse at our past and it's difficult to argue that anything has been as destructive to humanity as the bare ankle!

Final Results, WFiiA? Round 2:
Bare Ankles - 6
Jazz/Booze - 4
Technology - 3
Joan Crawford - 3
Obama - 1
Rita - 0

Thanks to everybody who participated in Round 2 of Whose Fault is it Anyway? Keep checking back as more finger-pointing mayhem is on it's way! But for now, blame those ankles!

One teensy peek at an un-stockinged ankle and these
all-American men will become cheating wolves!

Sunshine from a reader

"I hate today because I feel like crap and my boyfriend has made me mad and I have to sit all day at a desk and think about how much my life stinks. I know what you’re going to say…I still have all my appendages and what not, but that’s really not helping at all right now. I would put on make up, but I’m always about to cry, so in addition to everything, I look crappy, too. Today is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."

I think this reader is absolutely right. Have you looked at the news today? It's one dreadful little story after another! And what's more, there's absolutely NO cool weather on the horizon. Just more hot, hot, hot. No cool fronts coming our way any time soon. Who wants all that cold weather anyway? Not me, that's for sure. No sir.

And can I just add...we have our first preview for our relatively brief run of [Shakespeare production] tonight and I'm scared to death. Maybe it's the costume. Maybe it's that I feel incredibly un-funny. Maybe it's that everybody here on the 42nd floor is coming down with horrible fevers and I'm starting to think I'm getting sick too. Maybe I'm scared because I AM scared...and I never get THIS scared! It's scary! This IS a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day! (Say it with me now...)

Mazel Tov!--er--Salaam!

What the--

Today is Rosh Hashanah AND the beginning of Ramadan.

Niiice. Did they plan this?

Monday Makes the World Go Around

The first post of October 2005. Lordie Loo...where did the year go?

And in other news, the Shakespearean Production is in dress rehearsals. Or undress rehearsals, in my case. I still wonder how they're expecting to get away with a lot of this stuff, especially considering the show is being advertised as a fun family event and would make a great outing for church groups. I must've been sick the day they sent out the memo regarding our duty as creative artists to shock and offend our audiences as much as possible. I think it must be part of a conspiracy; so when the patrons protest or refuse to come, the actors can say "They're so narrow-minded! So we ate a couple of live sheep on the stage and sacrificed a goat to Baal. What's the big deal?"

Ah, me.

Bare Ankles takes the lead in Round 2 of 'Who's Fault is it Anyway?', breaking what would have been an unprecidented three-way tie. There's still time to cast your vote...or vote again! Speak out for your favorite culprit! Let your voice be heard! Voting will conclude on Thursday with an elaborate award ceremony to follow.

Thursday? Why Thursday?

Because another cool front is blowing our way and is scheduled to make a stop in Everycity on Thursday of this week! Now I have to say I feel a bit responsible for the brevity of the last one. Here today, gone tomorrow. Maybe if I hadn't been so excited about it it might have lingered longer. So I promise not to so much as mention the cool front all week long. And if you ask me about it, I'll say, "What about my fronts?"