Monday, August 14, 2006

Harpo Frizz


A brand new ice cream just arrived on the market. The Harpo Frizz. It's made of the finest quality ingredients. Lemony sherbet with cocoanuts and animal crackers.

Advertising Jingle:

My ice cream has a first name
It's H-A-R-P-O
My ice cream has a second name
It's F-R-I-Z-Z
Oh, I love to eat it every day
And if you ask me why I'll say
Cuz Harpo Frizz will curl your hair
And make you honk 'til people stare

Testimonials:

Scarlett O'Hara:
After a busy day washing Ashley's polo shirts and ironing his jockey shorts, I always look forward to a cool, refreshing Harpo Frizz. The sweet taste brings to mind my halcyon days at Tara before the Yankees burned Atlanta to the ground and forced me to make a dress out of Mama's portieres. As God is my witness, I will never be without a Harpo Frizz again!

Don Corleone:
I'm an honest man. Would I lie to you? No. I tell the truth. And the truth is that Harpo Frizz is the best ice cream in New York. Did I say, "New York"? No. The best ice cream in America. Did I say "America"? No. The best ice cream in the world. If you don't get Harpo Frizz, I can't guarantee your safety. Accidents happen. I have no control over what other people do. It's an offer you can't refuse.

Rick Blaine:
If you don't get Harpo Frizz, you're gonna regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But soon. And for the rest of your life.

Dirty Harry:
I know what you're thinking. Did he have six Harpo Frizzes or only five? Well, to tell you the truth, in all the excitement I kind of lost track myself. But you've got to ask yourself a question: Do you want another Harpo Frizz? Well, do ya, punk?

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Tweety Bird













(A song parody sung to the tune of "Yesterday")

Tweety Bird
Smeared in mustard with a side of curd
Scrump-deli-ishus is the only word
Oh, I must eat that Tweety Bird

Tweety Bird
Singing swinging in a cage pampered
Granny konks me 'til my vision's blurred
Oh, I must eat that Tweety Bird

When that anvil fell on my tail
I screamed in pain
He said, "Now take that
Puddy Tat!"
Then waxed insane

Tweety Bird
Some consider you a harmless nerd
But you're sadistic and a tad absurd
Oh, I must eat that Tweety Bird

Friday, August 04, 2006

Silence of the Eggs



Chester stared at the eggs on his plate. Their soft yolks mocked him, but they wouldn’t get away with it. The eggs were smugly confident, sitting alongside his Smuckers-smeared toast, their whites jostling the bacon for more room.

The woman standing by the stove had her back to him. That was good. Keeping one eye on the woman, he tossed a piece of bacon to the drooling Cocker Spaniel at his feet. Then another. The dog ate fast, swallowing the bacon almost whole. The toast was next.

Now he had the eggs where he wanted them ... alone and defenseless. How he loathed them. Their hideous yellow faces shivered as he gently shook the plate, teasing them. With his fork, he cut off a piece of egg white and impaled it on the tine. His mind heard their agonizing screams and Chester smiled. He flipped the offensive tidbit to the dog and proceeded to hack off another piece, being careful not to touch the yolk.

How he delighted in torturing them. Their cries and moans only increased his joy. He continued cutting off the whites and feeding them to the dog until all that was left were two jellied orbs staring back at him. The end was near and they knew it. To Chester, that was the best part...their awareness of their own fate. And being helpless to do anything about it.

The time had come. He looked again at the woman, who was still busy at the stove. Excellent! He slowly placed his index finger on the egg, hearing it gasp in fear. He giggled to himself, but continued the pressure. NOW! Chester pushed harder and harder until...the yolk splattered! It created a ghastly river of slime on the plate. He immediately punctured the yolk of the other egg and watched in glee as the two yellow streams merged into one.

He had to hurry. The woman would turn around soon and see the devastation. He quickly lowered the plate to the dog and anxiously waited while the evidence disappeared right before his eyes. When the plate had been licked clean, Chester put the dish in its proper place on the table and relaxed. The eggs were gone. Forever.