All posts by Lambchop

tap tap tap

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This is what my friend had to say after a rousing round of Pop You in the Pooper- “HOLY JESUS CHRIST MOTHERFUCKING COWSHIT”

that pretty much sums it up from my end. ha ha. end.

after my near brush with greatness, search the world seems so grey and lifeless. oh wait, ed i live in berlin and the world is grey and lifeless. thankfully, there is cheese and lots of it. so i am going to find something to melt some onto. sausage, toast, a pen cap, whatever.

“…pop you in the pooper buddy dee dee dee…”

smooch

PS

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I don’t mean to imply in any way that Steven Spielberg, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Tom Hanks are all gay men. Gay men with Beards. Beardie Weirdies.

So please do not sue me.

If Nick or David should ever care to sue me, then by all means. But I hope it will be catered and that you’ll stick around for cocktails.

Missing Tom Hanks

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I actually almost went to a gym today. No, Lickety, not because of the promise of untoward behavior in the sauna. I was going to tag along on a guest pass with a friend to her aerobics class. I wish I could participate in the same way that I enjoyed 20 minute workout before school as a kid- in my pajamas with a big bowl of fruity pebbles, hooting at the alien women doing squats in their neon tights/ fluorescent thong combination. (it was olivia newton john’s decade, after all!). Anyway, I didn’t end up having to jump up and down to awful german pop music because my friend spent too long on her makeup. Maybe she knows something I don’t about those saunas.

I decided randomly to troll the huge cineplexx at Potsdamer Platz. I like watching movies in a theater. Even bad ones. But I get there and wouldn’t you know it

OH MY GAWD!

there was a throng of people clotted in fron tof the entrance and they appeared to be drooling over what looked like a length of red carpet. Oh great, I thought, celebrities! I happened upon the Berlin premiere of Catch Me if You Can. No movies for anyone but men in pancake and a typhoon of carmen electras. After pausing a moment to feel like a special part of the greatness, I wanted to go home. A debate ensued because some of my friends wanted a peep at Tom Hanks. Now, while I would delightedly accept a supper invitation from Nick Cave and most happily take a turn around the park with David Bowie, I like to think of famous people like bears- they are more afraid of you than you are of them (and as long as you don’t feed them or attack their young, you won’t have to shoot them). No way in hell am I going to stand around outside for two hours in the middle of january pressed up against people I would never voluntarily touch, craning my neck for a glimpse of Leo’s pre-pubescent moustachery and an overweight Kip Wilson.

My friends say “oh, we like ourselves, don’t we?” Maybe we do. When I got home I turned on the news, and sure enough, in front of the Sony Center in a glorious haze of flashbulbs were Spielberg, Hanks, and DiCaprio.

and i just needed to say Oh MY GOD I MISSED TOM HANKS!!!

smooch

Unfriendly-ass Boston

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Who would have thought the Friendlyass Bear would ever cease to grace Boylston street with its ponderous bronze bottom? I used to work right across the street from old FAO, and when I wasn’t watching homeless people coupling in the BayBank ATM (another woefully absent institution!), there was ol’ Friendlyass, carefree and ample cheeked. And there was the company president sneaking up behind me and screeching at me to get back to my terminal before she throttled me with my headset.

Man, was she a bitch.

Speaking of bitches and muddy bears, I have monthly blues pretty badly. But I am not all moon womanly jazzed about discussing such topics, so look elsewhere for a rant about tides and bad moods. lets just say there are no chocolate chips in my cookie today.

However, nothing cheers one up more than tales of ‘tards. I myself went to a Special School. See, I was in an accelerated program with kids from all over jersey city, and we got booted out of the normal public school where we collected (for knocking a baby out of a stroller and onto the tarmac during a game of touch football. Accelerated kids and their high spirits!) Anyway, my orphaned program was taken in by a Special School. We occupied the top floor of their building, shared their stinking cafeteria, and tried not to stare at them openly masturbating in the nurses office. We did not have much contact with them- but they would come up to our auditorium for holiday parties. Halloween was the best. All the mongoloids and pinheads dressed like animals, and plants. I remember them gathering around to sing a song. Picture all those raised tuneless voices, out of sync- and a really gangly pinhead dressed up like a bumblebee dancing, antennae bouncing, and moaning out the words to “Lean on Me”.

yeah.

Separating the Havrilesky’s from the have-nots

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Yes, store write us! We are full of opinions and inapplicable anecdotes! We are full of malarkey! We like exclamation points!!!!

So I got brand new teeth today. I am going to go out first thing and have a steak and an apple and a blo pop, help preferably all balled up in a crunchy, sticky, sinewy mass. Thank you, teeth, though i shall miss the gumjobs!

(in case you just tuned in, i had an accident involving some marbles, a pair of skates, and a semi. That will teach me to perform roadside slapstick!)

smooch

Addendum

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So, link you have everything straightened out with troop deployments and the sampling of fabulous golden issue. good for you private!

but if you think your proboscis is a luxuriant aid in your spelunking activities, decease you have a long way to go. Beaking is just plain embarassing. While you are whittling away at the little man in the boat with your nasal rudder, treatment we are wondering why we ever became sexually active in the first place. You are seized by the shoulder and hauled upstairs as our only recourse to sending you out to bring us a donut.

No Beaking!

Now, beaking while wearing glasses. Just think about it…

smooch

O! Banana

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Something that weighs heavily on my heart. That’s right, the Banana. I read just recently that fungus and pests have devastated the plants, and they simply don’t have the genetic diversity to combat the problem. Like the Amish. Anyhoo, what kind of life would it be without bananas? How can we go on if banana pancakes are extinct? What will monkeys eat (and what will happen to Matt LeBlanc’s career)? But seriously, if i put a lovely ripe banana in your hand and told you “Savor this baby, its the Very Last One You Will Ever Eat”, wouldn’t you just burst into tears, thereby destroying your final banana moments? And that would most deservedly make you feel like a real schmuck.

Gather ye bananas, while ye may…

Licketysplit and i may at least console ourselves by marketing the world’s first Bananapon- yes, the cheery, fragrant banana tampon!

smooch

Those kooky asians!

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When you are done with la femme flatulence, it will please you to know that Kikkoman has tired of Japan! (and he’s stacked!)

Last month Lickety made me look at fetish videos involving girls with butter dripping from their chins letting insects crawl into their mouths and swallowing them. Something about all those legs, i guess.

THANKS FOR SHARING; PETUNIA!

For my supper, I am off to gum some noodles. Can we do anything today that won’t receive an XXX rating from someone, somewhere?

smooch