I Need A Sidekick because I AM A Sidekick

"Okay, as you might recall, I am Bertie. For several weeks, a state of extreme dramatic tension has been building (yes, that's the vague sense of uneasiness you have been experiencing--it's not just anomie, nameless dread, or indigestion this time)."

"I've gotta pull off some kind of a great escape caper that will free my buddies from the unknown men of sophisticated peril."
"So, I have spent every waking hour...hey! What are you doing? I had to eat!"
"Anyway, I have spent every single breath, every ounce of my strength...hey! Quit that! I'm telling you, I was worn down from all my plotting...I was hungry!"
"And thirsty! I was very thirsty, and you know, after you eat the Chinese food you need ice cream because that food is so light and why not a root beer float to rehydrate and stay strong and hey! Have you been following me?"
"Every other second that I have NOT been COMPELLED to devote to refueling my weak little body so I can prepare to single-handedly swoop down and rescue my comrades, I have devoted to...HEY! How'd you know about her? I swear she's just a friend of a friend. A big ol' friendly cowgirl who I bounce my rescue plans off of from time to time. No! That's not her phone number on there...Sheesh!"
"So, other than the big old friendly cowgirl, I am alone in this world, and..."
"HEY! How'd you find out about Jeanette, Genevieve, Lola, Mimi, Coco, Sylvie, Mehitabel, and Daisy?"
"WTF? You're all-seeing and all-knowing? You could have WARNED me, you know, plus you are one scary bright red lady. * That can't be good for your blood pressure. Is that a vein pulsing in your forehead?"
"Oh, I see...it's all MY fault that the story of the plot isn't moving along--it's just because I get hungry and thirsty and need to spend a little time with close, personal friends? It's not your fault a little, teensy bit?"
"Okay, okay, OKAY giant forehead martian lady."
"But, look. I'm a sidekick, not a leading man. I'm not Bruce Willis. I'm the nebbishy little wisecracking guy. Nervous joke-cracking is my weapon of choice, next to a can of GladeTM air freshener. I mean, in a tight spot I WILL come through, but I need a gang, a posse, or at least ONE sidekick to help me out. Yeah, that's right. I need a sidekick because I AM a sidekick. "
"Yeah, exactly like that. See? During the Ordeal of the Ugly Cakelike Easter Hats, you had a sidekick to help you out. Get me Super-Pouty Girl in the yellow coat here! Just get me some BACK-UP for crying out loud. If I'm goin' in, I need some back-up. Wise up! Okay, you're "on it." That's nifty. We'll see what happens. My dream list of sidekicks--live or dead--includes Andre the Giant, maybe Oddjob from James Bond 'cause of the helpful hat and if we can sway him from his wicked ways, Peter Boyle from Young Frankenstein, Gig Young for no particularly good reason, Sideshow Bob if he's stable, Mr. Spock, Rosalind Russell..I dunno, my mind is blank. Any other ideas? Anybody want a root beer float to help you think? "

*Scary red Sparkle is courtesy of ClinkyTM. Giant scary cowgirl card belongs to Sparkle. Vaudeville poster found on ebay. Photos of restaurants found on the Web. Dinosaur photos by Sparkle, aka giant forehead martian lady.

BIRTHDAY BOUQUET FOR JAYNE

Hey! Visit my last post and add your ideas for how to deal with monsters and maniacs, okay? I still think that my one/two punch of GladeTM air freshener and my vaudeville routine will fix their little red wagons, but if you have other ideas, please add them to Tuesday's blog.

Oh, jeez. I didn't get much sleep last night. I really need to do something cool for Jayne because IT'S HER BIRTHDAY. Or, it's David Lee Roth's birthday. Or maybe both? Anyhoo, I'm not at my best, but how hard could it be to pull together some refreshments, some gifts, and some entertainment for Jayne? Answer: Not hard. So, let's start this off right. How about some festive dessert?
OH, NO. This is kinda worse than no cake at all. Let's try again.
Okay, sure. Wine is always nice. But, she should have a little something in her stomach so she doesn't get all giddy and wake up married to the poo guy in the park. Try harder, Sparkle. Get some coffee. Pull yourself together, girl.
Okay. "E" for effort. She does like chocolate chip tracker bars, but what the heck is festive about that?
Okay. Finally. She can feed that first cake to the dog and she can keep this candy cake all to herself--maybe give a couple of bars to the lad. Refreshments are out of the way. Time for the gift. Let's give her that Doctor Who bloke and the George Michael bloke for good measure.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! More coffee! FOCUS! Focus!
AHHHHHHHH. That's better. Now, George. Go get George, Sparkle. You can do it. C'mon!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Try again, try again, quick like a bunny!


AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Yes, this is better. I believe this is George, isn't it? Unless it's some Russian guy pretending to be George? It's George, right Jayne? I would have used that other picture of the Wham boys but you already have it on your blog (is it just me or do they look like Siegfried and Roy in that picture?).

And now, for the entertainment. Today, I request that Jayne have a WONDERFUL BIRTHDAY, and I also would like for her to wake me up before she go gos. (Note: I had NO idea how much little boys love to make videos to this song. Holy cow. You Tube is overflowin' with 'em. Here are two, plus the original.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAYNE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FOR MAXIMUM SENSORY OVERLOAD, YOU CAN PLAY BOTH OF THESE VIDEO CLIPS AT ONCE! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEE!

Monsters 'n Stuff!

THE FAMILIES OF RHODE ISLAND, USA ARE SCARY!
Don't get me wrong. I love Rhode Island. I love the families of Rhode Island. I just didn't know that the families of Rhode Island have no faces. The puppies do. The seagulls do. The snowmen do. The teddy bears do. But, the families do not. I think I am most haunted by the sad, faceless boy with the rake and the slumbering faceless tot in the crib. Aiiiiiiie!

HOW TO DEAL WITH MONSTERS AND MANIACS
I've seen a lot of good scary movies and a lot of bad scary movies in my time, and I've had a ton of opportunities to think through what to do if I get in a pickle with a monster or maniac. I have two strategies:

1) First Line of Defense: Spray the monster or maniac with GladeTM air freshener. Question: Why GladeTM air freshener? Answer: It is readily available, you will perfume the air, AND you will deliver a dose of stinging chemicals that should give you a chance to run like hell. Question: Can a generic brand work as well as GladeTM? Answer: I do not know. Possibly so.
When I hear a scary noise, I go for the Glade. I probably got this idea from the 1980s movie "Death Valley" starring a young Peter Billingsley. I think within the first 8 seconds of this movie a bunch of hormonal, partying teenagers (this seals their doom) are slaughtered in a horrifying tableau. You know this: The 1980s were a very, very bad time to be a hormonal, partying teenager in a horror movie. Anyway, young Peter Billingsley was kind of a sour-faced little kid in this movie who was dissatisfied with his mother's new boyfriend and forced to be on a road trip with his mother and the new boyfriend. This made him VERY ready to fight back against the forces of evil. As I recall, he did a fine job overall--particularly in a scene in which he used, like, 18 different products that were in the bathroom to put the big hurt on the evil teen-julienning cowboy. Peter Billingsley: He'll spray your eye out!
2) Second Line of Defense: My vaudeville routine.
I believe that the vast majority of monsters and maniacs might be able to be dissuaded from their path of evil by a show--a little light entertainment. So, over the years I have put together a solid 20 minutes of material that includes the "Who's On First" routine, some dynamite "Knock-Knock" jokes, and juggling with various items including, yet not limited, to GladeTM air freshener (just in case).

THE MOST FRUSTRATING MOVIE EVER WITH THE WORST ACTING
I happen to like Mr. Charles Bronson, but this was a pretty dreadful movie. The acting was horrible, but what's worse is that five, strapping student nurses who KNEW they shouldn't open the dang front door could not find a way to thwart a NAKED homicidal maniac AND they had access to GladeTM air freshener. The movie is maddening. The evil fiend is human, he's naked and his jumblies are all exposed and swinging in the breeze, and GladeTM air freshener is close at hand, yet still he prevails in his evil doings. Maddening.

THE YEAR I WAS A DUMPLING FOR HALLOWEEN
No. I wasn't really a dumpling in these photos--I just look like one.
I wanted to be a gypsy. I was assigned to be a princess. That year, my sister and I were both spiking fevers and we couldn't go out. So, there was an improvised little festival of fun at home. We wore my mom's old party dresses, with 18 layers of clothing underneath and several layers on top to keep our fever-shivering little bodies warm. And there were games of chance! Like, the apple-hanging-from-a-string challenge that seemed to give my sister such trouble, but that I conquered immediately. Mother: "Hey! It looks like Sparkle got a bite from the hanging apple! Good for you, honey! How'd you do that?" Sister: Yeaaaah (disbelieving tone in voice). How'd you DO that?!" Sparkle: Why, it was easy! Let me show you!" Mother: "Okay, honey! Do it again and I'll take a picture of you!"
Sister: "I THOUGHT so!"

SPOOKY FUN
I just found a very entertaining posse of bloggers who like to write about pop culture stuff and who are focusing on Halloween. These include the guy with the evil plastic pumpkin (keep scrolling down), secret fun guy, and the guy with the cool masks--as well as others they link to who I haven't had a chance to check out. ENJOY!

Faster than a Speeding Splinter! More Powerful than a Monobrow!

Okay, because I live under a rock I didn't get the memo that told me that TWEEZERMAN is running for president. Why didn't anybody tell me? I don't know anything about the guy yet--he might be the greatest dude since Abe Lincoln--but, wow. Would this be the first Super Hero to run for president? TWEEZERMAN! Press Conference: "Mr. President? Mr. President? Mr. President?" "Yes? I'll take your questions one at a time, but first, please take these free tweezers and go groom yourselves. You're a disgrace to the corps!"

Twenty Sights, Lots of Colors

As of this update, Lamont met and exceeded the challenge to "write a few lines of a story involving any of these photos." He is taking a victory lap wearing a crown rakishly tipped over one eye--as well as his mammoth fur bikini. No Oprah wins a runner-up prize for being pithy (no, not pissy this time--pithy). Cake wins a runner-up prize for boozing it up to get inspiration, in keeping with the habits of some our most brilliant authors.

Bonus Questions: 1) What do you think the cage-like object below is in the black and white photograph with the hand? The photo was taken in a country that someone who posts here lives in. I wonder which one? 2) What museum is the Flame sign from below? 3) What's your record for consecutive foul shots? 4) Have you ever stayed in a MORE orange hotel room than the one below? Where's the strangest place (motel/hotel/hostel) you've ever stayed?

Don't Fear the Reaper

Sometimes, in the uneasy, silent watches of the creepy almost-dawn (3:30-4:30 a.m.), you wonder about the Grim Reaper, don't you? Well, after this weekend, I know a thing or two about the Grim Reaper, and let me tell you: The guy on the left in this photo ain't the Grim Reaper*:
You know who IS the Grim Reaper? This kitten. This frickin' kitten is the frickin' Grim Reaper:
My friend's cat. Adorable, huh? Pretty much. But, when she is sweetly slumbering like this, and/or cuddled up against my chest purring madly, she is scheming about the best way to disembowel a hapless mole with her super-effective brand of Mole-Fu. Her paws are registered weapons.

How do I know this? This weekend she grim-reapered a squirrel that was three times her size. I don't get it. She's just a simple, tiny little cat whose turn-ons include dainty china saucers full of cream and head scritches (turn-offs are phony people and tainted cat food)--or so she claimed to be with her happy little purrs and carefree, pre-carnage frolics. Oh for those hilarious times when her major pursuit was trying to jump. Ho ho! The pratfalls! The hijinks!

Well, it's a new day, and I'm suddenly remembering some early clues to her true identity. Like the time she ran past me, muttering under her breath as if she were a busy CEO and I a mere lowly member of the typing pool. We would have ignored each other, except I noticed that she appeared to have a toothpick jauntily sticking out of the corner of her mouth. I stooped down, grabbed her tiny jaw and popped it open, and there was a baby frog, gazing up at me and promising to start a new religion in my name. Ho, ho. I let it go, no harm done.

But now the list of her victims is growing, and I can't let them go because they're already gone. Before the squirrel it was a mole and a mole and a vole and a CHIPMUNK. NOOooooooo, not a CHIPMUNK. They are devastatingly cute and mind their own business, you know? I could not think of a more innocent bystander than a chipmunk. What if it was Alvin? There cannot be a Christmas song** without him.
What's next? A baby deer? A child?

Almost overnight, my friend's kitten has become a serial killer. It's NATURE. It's INSTINCT. It's what she does. She's a country kitten, and I'm used to lethargic, obese old city cats who would rather watch TV and monitor their stock portfolios than hunt mice. I'm just saying: Couldn't nature also give the kitten the urge to tidy up after herself? Couldn't it give her a "decent burial instinct"? I know she's PROUD and whatnot, but I'd give large coin to just see her running by me with a tiny shovel gripped in her mouth instead of almost-stepping in the rotting fruit of her daily bloodbath.

I do quite like the kitten, but this new side of her personality is turning me into the warped wife of a serial killer, primming my lips and saying, "I don't mind what he does as long as he doesn't bring it home and he's a good provider." The trouble is that she does bring it home, her tiny little tail raised high like a flag of victory. And, her Mole-Fu is getting worse. The television is warm sometimes, and I'm pretty sure she's watching slasher flicks and taking notes.

Anyway, now you know. You can stop waking up early and worrying about the Grim Reaper. Don't fear the Reaper. It's a kitten, and I'm pretty sure that you will be able to distract her for many years by stealthily creeeeping a feather tied to the end of a piece of ribbon across the floor like a snake. Also: She likes tuna, so you could get on her good side that way. Me? I'm just biding time and waiting to wake up with a horse's head on the pillow next to me.

*Still image of a scene from Ingmar Bergmann's film The Seventh Seal, which a friend of mine was watching recently while we were on the phone. Exact transcript of our conversation:
Me: "What's happening now in the movie?"
Friend: "Death is walking along the beach, and the guy sees Death."
Me: "Oh, okay. Does the guy go "Aiiiieeeee!" the hilarious chase music kicks in, and the guy hops on a Vespa and zips along in the opposite direction, while Death steps on a shell and starts hopping up and down saying, 'Oh, shit! Oh, shit!'"
Friend: "I really can't talk to you about this movie, can I?"
Me: "I'm just saying-"
Click. Bzzzzzzzzz (dial tone).

**This image of The Chipmunks is the sole creative and intellectual property of famous Armenian Ross Bagdasarian, Sr. and his estate. Here, I use the image only to make a crucial, educational point about the senseless killing by a tiny kitten who is the Grim Reaper ("Me, I want a hula-hoop..." SOB. )You can see Ross Bagdasarian, Sr. in the fine film, "Rear Window" with Jimmy Stewart and Raymond Burr. In this film, Ross plays an obsessed piano player songwriter. Ross was also the cousin of famed author William Saroyan. Together, they wrote Rosemary Clooney's song, "Come on-a My House."

HISTORY JOYRIDE! HOP IN!

Before we begin, please note that JoAnn posted some awesome bad words on yesterday's blog entry. Please check 'em out and learn!

But, right now: I dig History Joyrides! Grab your chips and soda, fasten your seatbelt, get ready to scroll down, and let's roll! This is the batmobile*! Cool, huh?


Boss Specs: Rocket boosts for increased speed, devices to improve maneuverability, mounted weapons to disable vehicles and remove obstacles, a computer remotely linked to the Batcave's computer, a remote control function, a field forensic kit, and a personal small helicopter held in the trunk called a whirlybat.

But, GET THIS! It is the 1941 State of Illinois Crime Lab on Wheels! Wheeeee!
Boss Specs: Revolving and Elevating Turret with phone, machine gun (could shoot candy!), searchlights, bulletproof glass, portholes (perfect to throw candy out of!), camera, and revolving loud speakers! It can operate at top speeds of 65 mph! Buckle up for our high-speed chases!

And, check out what's inside!
Twelve hundred (1,200) things! Including: darkroom, x-ray equipment to inspect packages for bombs, food supplies and emergency rations, ladder rack, asbestos suits, ropes and grappling hooks, speed boat, crime detection chemistry lab, switchboard, lie detector machine, and moulage materials! Law enforcement officials say that "Moulage" is supposed to be "the art of applying mock injuries for the purpose of training Emergency Response Teams." But just between the two of us, don't you bet it has something to do with doughnuts? I'd add some curtains to cozy this baby up. But: COOL!

It's like the Barbie Dream Camper I used to have...but BETTER!
Holy separation anxiety, Batman**! What the heck happened to Ken*** here? Did he hook up with Serial Killer Barbie?

But, hang on a second. Who came up with this idea for a State of Illinois Crime Lab on Wheels? Good question! Wait. Why are you dancing around in the back seat like that. What's that? Rest stop? You need a rest stop. Okay. Squeal of brakes. Wait, wait, wait. Better? Okay. Let's press on.

THIS GUY came up with the idea: Illinois Governor Dwight H. Green (Term: 1941-1948)!
Governor Green clearly liked vehicles! And, he liked his name on vehicles! Here he is, ready to receive a chest x-ray from the state's first mobile tuberculosis-testing unit! He's the guy lurking behind the two older nurses and, I think, groping both of them with his left hand. One woman appears to like it; the other does not appear to like it. Al Capone would NOT like to be groped by Governor Green. Here is Al Capone:
When Green was U.S. Attorney Green, he teamed up with FBI agent Eliot Ness and his Untouchables to defeat Al Capone. Although, a book by Dennis E. Hoffman titled, "Scarface Al and the Crime Crusaders: Chicago's Private War Against Capone" suggests that Capone was defeated by six lawyers and businessmen known as "The Secret Six," and Green was dogged by rumours that he was in bed with the gangsters and turned a blind eye to gambling, etc.

Remember Governor Green's cool State of Illinois Crime Lab on Wheels? Yeah. I'm pretty sure Governor Green WAS in bed with gangsters and wanted a secure spot--a traveling Bat Cave, if you will--to hide from the gangsters if they ever turned against him. This would make a mighty good hideout.
Uh-Oh! Adlai Stevenson defeated Green in 1948 and aggressively attacked organized crime in the state. Adlai Stevenson sure loved Lincoln! And frankly, I think he sounds like a pretty cool guy. He had lots of great ideas, and he wanted us to "march to a New America." Apparently, America was tired that day and didn't want to march. He lost his bids for the Presidency.
And, you know who HATED Stevenson? Why, J. Edgar "I'm Pretty in Pink" Hoover hated Stevenson!!! He spread rumors that Stevenson was bisexual. First, so what? Nothin' wrong with that. Especially when you consider that we've had presidents that I'm pretty sure steady-dated goats. Second, who the heck was Hoover to talk? This is some guy dressed up as Zombie J. Edgar Hoover. I'm pretty sure this is what Hoover looked like on a daily basis, so I'll go with this photo.****
Yep, I feel confident in saying that Hoover was a real jerk. He headed up the FBI for many years, however, and you can see him playing himself in the 1959 movie called "The FBI Story" starring Jimmy Stewart. I love me some Jimmy Stewart, but I'm not going to taint him by putting a photo of him anywhere near the words "J. Edgar Hoover." And...HEY! Did you happen to know that Adam West was in the movie "The FBI Story"?



Yes! In "The FBI Story," Adam West played the role of "Voice on Two-Way Radio" and he was uncredited. DAMN. Adam West has a GREAT VOICE.

Okay. We're back where we started. Thanks for coming along for the ride and have a great day!

*Please note that this image of the Batmobile is the exclusive creative and intellectual property of DC comics and I am including it here only to make a truly vital historical comparison.
**Please note that the character of Batman is the exclusive creative and intellectual property of DC comics and I am referencing Batman here only to express my astonishment over Ken's apparent disembowelment.
***Please note that Ken is the exclusive creative and intellectual property of Mattel and Barbie's love slave. It is important to note that this is NOT my Ken doll.
****Please note that Zombie J. Edgar Hoover is the exclusive creative and intellectual property of the individual depicted. I have no idea who this guy is. Guy: If you want me to take this picture down, please let me know. Thank you. (You've got great gams.)
*****Just to be sure...did I mention that this image of the Batmobile is the exclusive creative and intellectual property of DC comics and I am including it here only to make a truly vital historical comparison?