2nd Anniversary Page
You learn a lot about your friends when you hire a deranged outcast to stalk them for a year. For instance, I learned that my pal Lou, is afraid of deranged outcast stalkers. Isn't that interesting?
Pressed to sum up my business success with just two words, it would have be "valium".
I just finished one of those books that's hard to put down, 37 Barely Legal Uses for a Jack-hammer by Abner Feldspar. Actually, I was already aware of nos. 1-28, but those last nine were pure genius and well worth the price of the book.
Most of the kids in the old neighborhood referred to the flea-infested, belching, foul-mouthed, malnourished, alcoholic elderly man who lived under the bridge as "Geezer MacTroll". But I called him "daddy"...at least, when he wore his kilt.
Back on the farm, mom and dad were well known for their hospitality. Quite often folks would just show up from nowhere for a visit. One of the first things my folks would ask our guests is whether they'd like some homemade cheese. Well, how could you ever pass up such an opportunity? Inevitably, they would always give an approving nod which would quickly send mom and dad to the basement where they made the cheese by hand. Months later, they'd stammer up the stairs with a fresh wheel of gouda or sometimes provolone only to find that the guest had already left! I mean, how rude can you get?
My fear of marmots dates back to the late 1970's when my older brother used to throw our entire family of ferrets into the tub while I was taking a bath. I can't say that I didn't enjoy the tickling sensation the first few times he did it, but after a while, the bites, bleeding, infections, and the gangrenous smell of almonds began to take their toll. So I really don't feel as guilty about stealing his small intestines as he slept last night. In fact, he may find it really funny that I replaced them with a ferret.
I remember one time when I was in the seventh grade, having to stay behind at the cafeteria for some horrible offense. I sat alone at a round table, hearing the clang and clatter of the employees cleaning up after the daily feeding, their friendly chatter distracting me from my ominous sense of guilt. Then I smelled the distinct scent of sizzling dog steaks, Great Dane, I believe, as they prepared for the next days' lunch and... well, it really doesn't matter how I can tell the difference between a Great Dane steak and a broasting leg of Malamute and you've made me lose my train of thought so just forget you ever read this.
A guitar is like a woman... a very frigid, stiff woman who adorns herself with metal wires.
It was a love story. A romance. A tale of rapture, of delight, of ecstasy. The saga that dreams are made of. And it all began in the Fall of '87 when I first saw Pauly Shore on an episode of "21 Jump Street."
July 3, 1999
The world of honey mustard sauces is a fascinating one, and, when viewed in the same proximity as a good helpin' of chicken strips, causes me to bubble over with unabashed emotion. This Fourth of July weekend, let us take a moment to remember the man who invented honey mustard sauce-- Leonard Frankenheimer, of Sioux Falls. Let us also take a moment to consider why I'm not wearing any pants.
July 4, 1999 -
Independence Day (USA)
Yes, it is Independence Day today! I attended our city's fine fireworks display this evening, right on the river. As I watched the bright lights, the loud music (nothing like those radio stations that play "synchronized music" during a fireworks display), I sat in awe, thinking about our great country, our rich heritage, and pondering the significance of beef vegetable soup (as well as its impact upon contemporary America). Then I got up and waited in line for over an hour for a funnel cake.
July 8, 1999
Today's cooking tip: Next time you make cookies, replace the chocolate chips with dung beetles. Your kids will love the crunchy goodness and your body will appreciate the extra fiber!
July 9, 1999
I remember when I was a kid, going to my grandparents house and grandpa would sit very still in his recliner for hours at a time. We would gather around him, watching his breathing become more and more shallow, his eyes glazing over, a thin line of spittle gently spilling over the edge of his lip. I can't tell you the number of times we had him on the embalming table before he would speak up and attest to his consciousness. But can you really blame our eagerness? There ain't nothing like an old-fashioned family embalming party…
July 10, 1999
I probably would have been more popular in high school had I not let Aunt Bertha dress me.
July 16, 1999
It's Friday. I just had a coworker stop by my office, see the TWO empty pop cans on my desk and warn me that I should throw those away before the weekend so that we don't get ants. Aside from the fact that my cubicle is in the middle of the third floor of a concrete building, I would have thought this employee would have been more concerned about the hazard presented by my extensive collection of severed heads.
July 19, 1999
You know it's going to be a good week when a coworker spontaneously combusts outside your office... and you have marshmallows!
July 23, 1999
More than likely, you've found yourself in the spice isle of your local grocery store wondering exactly what the contents of "Crab Boil" is. For me, it was just yesterday, around three in the morning. I stood there for perhaps 15 minutes consuming five bottles until I realized that it was NOT, I repeat NOT, paprika. So, all is well with the world.
July 25, 1999
Quick piece of trivia: 3.8 percent of the United States is officially designated as "wilderness." Although most experts agree that these numbers do not include my bathroom.
July 30, 1999
The vending machine now has bags of chips that proclaim that they are "NATURALLY BAKED!" This is quite a relief for my co-workers and myself who never felt completely comfortable eating the old brand that had been baked in the warm, comforting glow of toxic waste.
August 2, 1999
For years, my parents used to give me little treats they called, "crispy bits of sunshine". They were crunchy and tasty--sort of like jerky with a little kick. Just a few months ago I made the connection that this occurred right around the time that our cat, "Sunshine" stayed out in the heat too long. I wonder whatever became of her. Man, that sure was good jerky.
August 3, 1999
I spent the weekend up in Chicago for my older brother's wedding. As the "Best Man," it was my duty to hold on to the ring, make sure he made it to the wedding, give a sentimental speech at the snazzy reception they had, and provide the loving support only a brother could. Then, of course there were other things, smaller things, that a best man must provide-- leading everybody in a round of "Edelweiss," filling the champagne bottles with Drano, and launching myself from a chandelier onto the cake while screaming, "This is for the Jello™-wedgie back in kindergarten!" Sure, they were a little bit perturbed after that last part, but I bet in ten years they'll look back and snicker. I know I will.
August 4, 1999
My environmentally conscious friends have given me quite a few lectures on how we should respect the rights of animals to live where they live. Well, that's all fine and good, but what am I supposed to do about the Spotted Owl living in my microwave?
August 5, 1999
Yanni. Michael Bolton. Kenny G. What do all these people have in common? They may not know it yet, but I have tracked down each of them individually, approached them as they slept, and written the words "Yo quiero Taco Bell" on their left buttocks.
August 6, 1999
My therapist has just informed me that many of my troubles can be attributed to the fact that I was abused by hickory sausage as a small child.
August 8, 1999
Back in high school and college, I just loved Snapple. In fact, you might say that I was addicted. I could not get enough of the fruity flavors of that yummy, refreshing beverage... Pink Lemonade, Mango Madness, Kiwi Strawberry. But that was all before I found out that Snapple is actually manufactured by passing different types of carburetor cleaner through an emu's colon. It sure does taste good, though.
August 12, 1999
Quite often, I look into the eyes of my little boy and see myself. No, I mean it...literally...I can see myself. He's starting to get a little annoyed because I prefer using his eyes instead of a mirror. Now he complains because I take him with me everywhere I go so I can check out my appearance. It's a "win-win" situation for me because now that I bring him with me everywhere, people think that I'm some kind of "super dad".
August 13, 1999
Most folks don't value polish sausage the way that I do. Sure, it makes a great meal and even works out as a tasty treat or midnight snack. Oh, and everyone knows that it's not just for breakfast anymore and that nothing says, "Happy Anniversary, honey" like a pack of polish sausage. And who can forget the first time your dad shared his polish sausage with you. But I love polish sausage. I mean I really LOVE it...more than you morons will ever know, so just leave me alone!!!!!
August 16, 1999
Congress is currently working on legislation to add Garden Gnomes to the major food groups.
August 18, 1999
I spent most of today cleaning my zither. Tomorrow, I shall play my lyre and lute and there will be great joy. I hope my co-workers don't mind.
August 19, 1999
My favorite things to watch on The Learning Channel are the special documentaries on the mating habits of the Yellow-Throated Warbler of southern Sri Lanka. And all the "Police Academy" movies.
August 21, 1999
The people I am forced to deal with each and every day at work have caused me such distress that my lymph nodes are expanding, my pancreas are diluted, and, worst of all, my boss seems to have died from a massive head wound, most likely caused by the bloody, oversized toaster I have hidden under my desk.
August 22, 1999
Lately, I've taken to using double-sided tape to apply strips of raw bacon to most of my body.
August 23, 1999
If I could choose to be any small woodland creature, I would choose to be a crocodile. Sure, it's not your typical "woodland creature" but you should see the look on those squirrels' faces when I bite down on their plump, juicy, nutty-flavored bodies!
August 24, 1999
I used my first ampersand when I was eight. This soon led to excessive semicolon use, ellipses abuse, and ultimately every mother's worst nightmare, the tilde. After years of intense therapy, I'm down to commas, periods, exclamation and question marks, and the occasional quotation mark (single and double). That was five years ago but to this day, every time I look at a parenthesis or a carot, my hands shake uncontrollably. Kids, just say NO to punctuation!
August 25, 1999
I don't consider myself to be a cowboy. Sure, I ride a horse and wear the hat. And, yes, my daily responsibilities consist of herding up cows on the ranch and I have been known to throw a lasso or two every day. But I'm just an ordinary middle-class suburban guy deep down inside.
August 26, 1999
I was watching a popular game show the other day. With a million dollars on the line the final contestant was stuck on a tough question, "Veal or Colgate Tooth Paste?". That was it. The entire question was, "Veal or Colgate Tooth Paste?" What a moron. He answered "Colgate Tooth Paste" when everyone knows it's "Veal". They get the stupidest people to be on those shows.
I never understood how "fire in your belly" could be such a good thing. My guess is that a fire in any of the major organs would be life-threatening, to say the least. Perhaps a small brushfire in the spleen might not be so bad, or perhaps a contained wood-burning stove in the sphincter would be great for party tricks, I dunno.
For years I have envisioned a new economy based on rodents. Basically, the gerbil would be the universal monetary unit and everything else would be built around it. To give you an idea of the value, you could get a can of coke from a machine for one gerbil. Three gerbils would get you a box of crayons or a lug nut. Also, four gerbils would be equal to one rat. Seven and a half rats would equal a small ferret and thirty six small ferrets would equal nine angry squirrels, etc. It's all pretty simple.
Slowly, the boy crept towards the closed door, his every sense swimming in a slurry of elevated adrenaline levels. His fingers tingled as he reached out for the knob, a slight spark of static electricity jumped, anticipating the connection of his fingers to the knob. Carefully, his warm, nervous fingers were laid upon the cook metal knob and his grip tightened. The knob was turned, slowly so as to minimize the sound of metal upon metal inside the old door mechanism. With his heart pounding almost audibly within his chest so forcefully that he feared it would soon tear itself to pieces, the boy flung the door open to find... special celebrity guest star Gary Coleman! Hey Gary!
I'd rather be a hammer than a nail... but most of all, I'd like to be a 5/8 inch crescent wrench.
There I was, last Saturday night, just outside the local Sears, singing a song of sixpence when this old guy starts laying into me for not having my pockets full of rye!
World hunger could be stopped if only we could learn to enjoy the flesh of poodles.
The past few days I have been afflicted by some flu or cold-like disease which has also caused my left eye to become bloodshot. What amazes me is the fact that so many of my friends and the people that I bump into are doctors. I have been diagnosed as having "conjunctivitis", an "eye-cold", "pink-eye" and a host of other ailments. So, I finally broke down and went to the doctor thinking that I had "pink-eye" as that was the amateur diagnosis I had received the most. My REAL doctor was able to deduce that I had a "cold" and that the pinkness in my eye was caused by some red food coloring that had been placed in my eye. Looking back on it, I'm almost certain that my kids did this just the other night and that it also explained my recent bouts with "yellow-eye", "green-eye", "blue-eye" and "red-eye".
While playing second base in my weekly church softball doubleheader over the weekend, I discovered that softball, like many other sports, is really nothing more than a metaphor for our lives--our emotional stability. How we can live our lives with an apathetic attitude, rolling along the ground as if everything is going just fine and then all of the sudden, someone picks you up off the ground and heaves you with incredible speed and you smack someone right in the nose. As I lay on the ground, slipping into a coma from the painful blow to the face, I really began to contemplate the various mysteries of life: why is the sky blue? why do dogs bark? and mainly, why don't I pay more attention when I'm playing second base?
I finally realized just how effective the American advertising industry is today when fourteen crates of Super New and Improved Nostril Cleaning Plungers arrived via UPS.
The stock that I bought in the company that produces old episodes of "ALF" on videotape is just getting ready to peak, I'm certain. And as soon as it does, I'll be ready to sell, sell, sell! I'll make millions for sure.
As I sit at my desk, listening to the constant hum of the office ventilation system, watching the messages pile up on my voice mail and in my in-tray, I realize that I've lost my zest for life. Oh wait, here it is, underneath the Pensky file!
The wonderful thing about worms is the way that they taste when pureed and placed in our office coffee. Well, actually, I'm not so sure how they taste since I've never eaten one and NEVER drink the office coffee. But no one seems to complain about the coffee and I've been secretly adding the worm puree for six months now.
The other night I was walking alone in the dark when I noticed a rare phenomenon. The moon was nearly full and a patch of dense clouds were positioned so as to cut a wedge out of the sphere creating what astronomers call the "Pac Man™ Moon" phase. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, it is awe inspiring. And then I thought, "What about the people that lived 2,000 years ago?" What did they think about when they saw this rare astronomical wonder? There was no Pac-Man™--not even Asteroids™, Space Invaders™ or Pong™. Man, I'll bet that really sucked for them.
It has been said that the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. However, I'm pretty sure that a pair of razor sharp salad tongs lodged into the chest is much faster.
October 2, 1999
If I were a dog, I bet I would be doing a lot more defecating in public than I am now.
October 3, 1999
Bananas are tasty fruit, full of potassium and vitamins, but they make a sorry excuse for a jackhammer.
My using nothing more than a paperclip, three red rubber bands, some silicone-based adhesive, a live mouse, the collective works of Jim Neighbors, and the axle of an '86 Honda Civic, I have created a working anti-gravity machine! Well, not actually, but I managed to avoid doing any real work for an entire afternoon!
On the Internet for the past few weeks, we here at The Daily Journal have been participating in a fantasy football league, in which we each get points for how well "our" NFL players do each week. Since we are leading the way in cutting edge technology, TDJ will soon be introducing a "fantasy life league," in which you can own the lives of such exciting players as Fred Tackersly, an accountant from Sioux Falls, or Gerty von Frankenheimer, a housewife from Duluth! Earn points a variety of ways, ranging from what your players eat for breakfast, to whether or not they arrive at work on time! And don't forget, bonus points can be earned if your players wash their hands after urinating!
October 7, 1999
Not everyone is against you but I've just joined the forces that are. What could I do? They offered me free oven mitts!
Halloween is quickly approaching. I'm trying to decide if I'm going to dress up as Austin Powers, Darth Maul, or my Aunt Ruth. I dressed up like her last weekend and it made quite an impression on the neighbors.
Sometimes I wish I were a bird. If I were, I would get to fly as high and as far as I wanted. I would get to see the world as no one else sees it. I would be a beautiful, free, untamed creature. Of course, that's a pipe dream and I can never be a bird, no matter how hard I try. Therefore, starting today, I shall shoot at every bird that flies above my head, crush every egg I come across, and smash every worm that wriggles beneath my feet. That should make me feel better.
When I was a child, I thought like a child. When I became a man, I put away
My, how the times have changed... many years ago, when I was in grade
October 24, 1999
|Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Tom Barnhart - Breeder, Exhibotor and Judge of Fancy and Racing Pigeons....AND the next PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! Show your support by signing his guestbook today!|
Hamsters... the poor man's guinea pig.
Ever notice how the entries at the end of the month don't seem to have the biting, cutting edge humor to which our readers have grown accustomed? Take, for instance, this one.
Sitting on a bench by the brook, I was brooding over my badly burnt but still buttered blueberry bagel when Bob's brother Billy hit me in the back with a buttercup. It was at this point that I realized alliteration was a tool of the devil. E-Mail.
There's nothing wrong with being different. Here at my office, we encourage it. That's why I'm wearing this thermos that's been permanently glued to my forehead. E-Mail.
In today's dog-eat-llama business environment, there are three things that you must remember to be successful:
1. Live lobsters do not necessarily belong in your pants
2. Dancing with every person that enters your office area is not only encouraged, it's expected! Dance away you dancin' fools.
3. The more you give, the more you get (as long as you do it while other people are watching).
4. The monkeys did it. Always blame the monkeys. E-Mail.
I've been teaching my Mom a little bit about the internet lately. I started off with the basics, like how you can do a simple search for what you are looking for on search engines (like Google!), and now I'm teaching her more advanced techniques, like how your computer can make toast and catch small rodents. E-Mail.
I started out this day the way I normally do. I got up, smeared my entire body with marmalade and hopped on the train to go to my alien telepathy seminars I teach at Motel 6. The only thing I forgot was that this was Monday. I go to WORK on Monday...the office...duh!...and on Monday I'm supposed to use apple butter because my boss likes it with his muffins. E-Mail.
Since I have young kids at home, I have become quickly educated on the Pokemon phenomenon that is sweeping our country. Now, for all of you parents, I have put together a quick guide to "who's who in Pokemon".
*POKEMON - Pokemon is a little yellow guy that likes to poke stuff. Basically, he spends most of the show poking others and sometimes causes bodily injury.
*PIKACHU - This is the Japanese expression used to bless someone after sneezing
*"GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL" - This expression is the basic theme of the show. The idea is for the main characters to catch every disease known to man. As of this entry, three of the four main characters had successfully contracted shingles and were licking decaying squirrels in hopes of catching rare vermin diseases. E-Mail.
Most of us naively choose to believe that Polish Sausage was actually concocted in Poland by sausage makers and then imported to all corners of the world. However, it's a well known fact in the sausage biz that Polish Sausage was created by three Hungarians who were trying to develop a novelty exploding hotdog. E-Mail.
When I was a kid, all I ever wanted to do was play basketball. This obsession quickly consumed my life and by the time I reached high school I was playing 6-10 hours a day. Amazingly, I never got any better with all of the practice and was eliminated after the first cut when I tried out for my high school team. Looking back, I think it had something to do with the fact that I observed the "pure" or original form of the game. I would insist on using wooden peach baskets over the new fancy webbed-nylon "baskets" attached to a metal rim. In addition, I preferred the traditional nine-on-nine format using a soccer ball and long gray trousers--just like Mr. Naismith created it back in 1891. I also insisted on swearing profusely during every second and surgically attaching live furry rodents to my earlobes. E-Mail.
Well, the contest is over folks. Thanks for all of your entries and we'd like to congratulate our "Write Your Own TDJ Entry" winner, Gern Blanston from Terre Haute, Indiana. Here's Gern's Entry...
"Hay MAN. You guys SUCK! What in the @#!! is this site anyway? Where are the picture of the girls? Do eckspect me to actully read this stuff? It crap, man. Why don't you make a sight with some really good pictures or something?" E-Mail.
I'm watching the guy in the cubicle across the hall from my pick his nose. His back is to me as he reads his monitor, picking, picking, picking. Now his glasses are off and he is rubbing his eyes... now his temples. Now he's removing his shirt and... wait a minute! I'm not at work! How did I end up at a Chippendale's performance? E-Mail.
I've been very sick with the flu this week, so I've been home from work. It has given me time to really contemplate things, to reflect, and I've decided that being sick is a lot like owning a ferret. Except that when you are sick, you vomit a lot and eat chicken noodle soup, and when you own a ferret, you get hours of furry, rodent delight. E-Mail.
Back when I was in fourth grade, I started wearing a poncho. At first, I'd just wear it outside during a heavy rain. However, it was only a matter of weeks until I began wearing it outside all the time. By the time I was in Junior High School, I was wearing my poncho during class and at social events. My friends and my family warned me that it was becoming a problem, but I couldn't see it. Soon I was wearing it non-stop and began insisting that others wear them. Mom and dad would get pretty upset when I would insist that house guests put on a poncho before entering our home. There's no real punch line or meaning to any of this. It's just a peek into the sick little world that I live in. Are you wearing your poncho? E-Mail.
Around my office, there's a lot of "water-cooler" talk about the things going on in our organization. I suppose that I'm just as guilty as anyone as I regularly sit by the water cooler. Just yesterday, I told one of my co-workers about how the water we drink is actually purified at treatment plants. Call me a gossip, but I went on and on for hours and I think I may have offended her because she doesn't come around the water cooler any more. In fact, since I've been sitting here every day (with breaks for lunch, of course) no one has been coming around the cooler. I think they are actually getting drinks from the faucet! I wonder if they are talking about water at the faucet? I gotta get in on this! E-Mail.
Before this 1900's close out, I want to take a few minutes to salute the guy who invented Velcro™. There have been many inventions that have revolutionized the world (e.g. the Salad Shooter™ and The Clapper™, but we already know about the impact these technological wonders have had on our civilization), but none have had more of an impact than the magic that I call Velcro™. Who would have thought that two strips of synthetic material fastened to the back of my 90-year old great-aunt Althea would have the strength to keep her from leaving the bed. Now I have more time for monster truck rallies and back episodes of COPS. Thank you Velcro™!!! E-Mail.