Sweepstakes Bonanza Challenge

I'm in San Diego for a couple of days. Whoever finds me here and hands me a live fish will win 74 dollars and 83 cents. It's all part of my personal reality TV Show.

Pics, Pans, Puns & The Case of the Missing Underwear

Pic of the week:

Murry Wilson's Opus

Pan of the week is to avoid seeing the film "Fido", which is having limited release here in town. Fido, made with Canadian taxpayer money, is about domesticated zombies in a 50's-era neighborhood. Sounds interesting enough on paper, yes? However, like most contemporary films portraying life in the 50's, what comes across on the screen amounts to a zealous art director's showcase of retro-kitsch sets, costumes, and cars, while the script is nothing more than an afterthought. It's the stock portrayal of repressed families in neatly manicured neighborhoods living blithely in the atomic age, bla-bla-bla. That kind of smug treatment always drives me totally crazy, perhaps because I'm just such a huge Hugh Beaumont fan.

Beaumont in non-repressed repose

Might as well go rent the 1989 flick: "Parents" with Randy Quaid, which is a superior close-cousin in theme, although it too had more potential than it lived up to.

Pun of the week: Did'ya hear'bout the fire down at the circus? -Yeah, it was in tents! Ha-ha-ha.

Finally, if anyone can find my missing underwear, please let me know.

Thanks.

Yet Another Cartoon About Oil Drills

Here's a High School animation project that I dredged up. It's not an entirely horrible effort, I suppose. Towards the end of making this I found myself slightly in over my head, running out of time and, consequently, things got more limited as it went along. The quality here is total crap, as it's derived from a VHS recording of a Super-8 projection off a bedroom wall.

If you'd like to discuss the deep social profundity of "The Wandering Man", then by all means do. I don't have a clue what it's all about. I was much smarter when I made it and now I just shuffle down the street and keep to myself.

Andy Devine vs. Slim Pickens

Cast Your Vote Now

Ebay Archaeology Update

I noticed that the notorious Ventriloquist Dummy commode painting has resurfaced on Ebay. I couldn't help but wonder if this was the same one as before, or if they are massed-produced and installed in various mansions in Beverly Hills. I forwarded that very question to the seller/artist and this was the reply:

"Over my years of being an artist I've found that a lot of people would rather buy a painting that they can use than to just hang on their wall. You see that at a lot of craft shows artist painting on flower pots, end tables, shelves etc. for buyers who like to decorate their homes with art and not just hang it on their walls.......... This is about the 6th. Vent[riloquist dummy] figure I've painted on a toilet seat, I've sold all the others"

That's a pretty unassuming answer from the source of the most subversive work of art since Marcel Duchamp's "Fountain" in 1917. Duchamp's piece, which shocked critics when it was unveiled in 1917, was selected ahead of Picasso's "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon" and "Guernica" -- chosen second and fourth, respectively -- as the most influential work of art.

By extension, that would make this ventriloquist dummy toilet seat the über-influential work of art in the history of man. Now, if it could only talk.

And now I've redeemed myself for making this whole sordid exercise educational.

Romancing the Throne

The things I could've bought on Ebay, if I'd only been more drunk. Ain't it a beauty?

[it's yet another token image for a "guy blog" & the lame tawdry bathroom humor outlet]

Loitering Pays

Recalcitrant bohemian Paul over there at The Goldstate has acquired what looks like a very nicely-preserved Optigan. This has stirred up one of the deadly sins in my soul which is sloth. ...meaning that I want to eschew my responsibilities and greedily sleep off my envy and lust for this much sought-after instrument which is so rare that I'm impelled to gobble it up with gluttonous abandon. If not for my pride, I will nonetheless show my wrath one day. [I would like to pitch to the Vatican that being excessively cute on one's blog should be included as the deadliest sin].

If you want to know more about the Optigan keyboard then go Here. Tom Waits and others have used this kitschy kontraption to good effect. Paul found this at a certain second-hand store which has turned out to be a wellspring of impossible luck and gold dubloons for free.

I Shall Never Be Fit To Run For Congress

"What If" --aka: Happy Fears pt.1

What if all the bees that have gone missing from hives all around the United States have simply gone shopping to help boost the American economy?

Free Dirt

This scene from George Axelrod's "Lord Love a Duck" is required viewing if you want to ascend all 12 vibrational levels of Bloggy-Blog's cosmic enlightenment program. The disciplines here are rigorous. The navel-gazing intense. Consider the cost and proceed with humility and focus. Whoever decodes the symbolism of the clip first wins a Nehru jacket, complete with underarm sweat stains from 60's troubadour Donovan.

I'm not kidding. This is serious. Stop joking around.

When Suddenly...

Hey gang, get a load of this!

Jumbo's Clown Interactive Rumpus Room

As you well know, BloggyBlog is nothing if interactive. You just tell me what sort of crazy stunt you want me to perform any time of day and I await your request via our exclusive "1-800" line or in the readers' comments section. As you can see on the live Bloggy-Cam below, I reside in a cramped low-budget video studio. I'm here for your entertainment beck and call, clad only in my Depends briefs and reclined on a circular rotating water bed. I'm all yours, although Larry King sometimes comes 'round to visit unannounced.

It's all part of promoting the betterment of society in the electronic age.

Live Video Feed

I hope my colleagues at work are reading this to see just how plugged into technology I really am!

The New Used Car Smell

I recently bought a new used car. I'm OK with most everything about it but someone at the dealership sprayed the interior with some sort of new car smell. Or, perhaps, the previous owner was a stripper at Jumbo's Clown Room because it smells like the cheapest, gamiest, perfume in the world.

It makes me wonder how many lunkheads, finding themselves dubious as to the purchase of a used car, were brought over the threshold by the seductively tacky new car smell? I'd personally prefer the moldy sandwich under the seat essence, if given the choice. At least the object can be located and removed --or dangled fetchingly from the rear-view mirror.

Can anyone recommend an antidotes for getting rid of the fake new car smell so that my shallow consumerist world won't be unsettled?

The Gang's All Decapitated

I won't try too hard to distance myself from the fact that there are two films of the musical genre that I can actually watch, being that I'm just that secure with my masculinity. They are "The Wizard of Oz" and "The Gang's All Here". The latter film, by far the most bizarre, is noteworthy because it has a finale segment sung by various disembodied heads.

The movie is bookended by heads singing over a neutral background. This floating head sings a stirring rendition of "Brazil" in the open of The Gang's All Here.

proto cool: slouchy & stoned benny goodman

better hide, 'cause he's a shark that can't go in reverse

a journey into edward everett horton's nostril

the gang's a colony of bacterium under a microscope

The Gang's all Here not only features songs sung by disembodied heads but also features a child's hand that glides off the wrist and morphs into an electric parade float.

the lovely severed paw

a procession of women from venus proceed to remove the neon hoops from the giant sleeve (above) and rotate 'em around in unison. yes, we've seen it all a million times. it's a technicolor fever dream for the entire family.

What I like about this whole spectacle is that it all happens gloriously for no apparent reason other than to freak you out. This film, directed by Busby Berkeley in the early 40's, delivers a bold style that pushes into the Avant-garde but I don't think most people even know it exists --although they DO subconsciously , because it features the famous number with Carmen Miranda and her damn hat o'fruit.

finally, everything makes sense!

Soul-Sucking Cat at Large

I don't know about you but, for as long as I can remember, I've enjoyed making a certain ridiculous voice that can only be accomplished by inhaling while talking. It's a kind of sound that can be funny to some but the effect can also drive other people completely mad, which is even more satisfying.

So now I see that MY inhale-voice thing has been stolen for a Dairy Queen commercial and I don't mind saying that I feel extremely violated. Here's my single most defining routine, something I've nurtured and shaped to perfection over the years... it's a voice I was going to use on some future animation project and then I see it being cynically one-offed for the sake of some kind of "flamethrower" sandwich.

I can't believe it. I give up.

The Coolest Cereal Pusher Man

The following vintage clip from YouTube shows cereal pitchman Sugar Bear saving Granny Goodwitch from "Mad Vitamin Stealer" Victor Vicious. In the years that followed his rise to "Bear of the Hour" and subsequent fall into oblivion and madness, scholars have wracked their brains over just what made this paradoxical character so cool, so charismatic, and yet so destructive to tooth enamel.



While the symbolism in this TV spot might require volumes of data to deconstruct, I'll attempt to make it all very simple without sugar-coating the facts. First, let's be frank: Sugar Bear was a known Quaalude abuser, as evidenced by his tell-tale lazy eyelids from photos of the period. Furthermore, his entire adult life was devoted to getting children hooked on mountains of processed sugar. Make no mistake, he was shrewd and he was cunning. He made us laugh; he made us cry. Yet, we loved him in spite of all that he put us through, even more than Danny Bonaduce.

Born in a simple log cabin in 1962, leaving a nasty placenta stain on the kitchen table, Sugar Bear was a precocious banjo-player who appropriated the old-school cocktail suave of Bing Crosby and upgraded it into a more accessible druggy vernacular. His entire wardrobe consisted solely of a blue turtleneck sweater and no pants, which was very de Rigeur amongst Greenwich Village poets of the day.

Few lives are without contradictions. Likewise, there were controversies and questions as to the bear's loyalties. It all started when Sugar Bear was invited to lecture at a Marxist training camp in North Korea in the summer of 1968, where he was welcomed as a revolutionary hero. He made various trips to other Iron Curtain countries, only to quietly return to his corporate Post Cereal job until President Reagan banned him from returning to the States during the 80's.

Sugar Bear was a protege of Timothy Leary as well as close friend and confidant to Bobby Seale, Eldridge Cleaver, and Barry Goldwater. He was an enigma and a two-dimensional character; a friend and foe; a lover and a fighter; alpha and omega, cheese grater and processed cheese in a can. Still, in the final analysis, he was a devoted and loving husband to his wife Maxine and their three kids: Stoolie, Crapper, and Grunter --no matter how much human carnage he left in his wake.

"it smells in your piss"

Is anyone still reading this? To win your prize, compose a sentence using the word "dungarees" in the comments' section. Thanks for playing.

Big Scoop: Lennon vs. Spiderman

We all know that John Lennon stole or "nicked" his song ideas from the likes of Cole Porter, Jimmy Osmond and Frank Sinatra. Well, here's yet another Gotcha Exclusive from the folks at Bloggy-Blog! We have Side-by-side evidence that Lennon's hippie protest song John Sinclair was a blatant rip-off of the popular 60s' TV cartoon Spiderman.

Push HERE for smoking gun.

[note: If you play it backwards it goes: "Richard Nixon is my very favorite pal". ...but that's for another post]

Lyndon BBQ Beans Johnson --Eat My Words

Anyone else out there having trouble with the "My Bad!" expression? It's still making the rounds and, subsequently, upsetting my sleep cycle. I'm wondering if one can actually petition the Gov't to drive a lame expression out of circulation ? The thought gives me hope. After all, the City of New York has just done it with the "N"-word but that's another discussion. That's for mature people. That's not what we do here.

On the other hand, the popular exclamation "Awesome!" has survived much longer than I expected and I've sort of adapted to it. Just when I thought "awesome!" was dead, it returns, enjoying waves of resurgence. "Awesome" got a lucky break. It works amongst dunderheads and the Urban Chic alike (and aren't they really the same anyway?). It's an equal-opportunity Republican or Democrat. "Awesome" is a changeling; a betrayer AND a lover. "Awesome" can stay but must be watched carefully.

So well-done "Awesome"! Hats off to you. However, "my bad" is no "awesome".

Coulrophobia in the news

From CNN today:

BOGOTA, Colombia (Reuters) -- Two clowns were shot and killed by an unidentified gunman during their performance at a traveling circus in the eastern Colombian town of Cucuta, police said Wednesday.

The gunman burst into the Circo del Sol de Cali on Monday night and shot the clowns in front of an audience of 20 to 50 people, local police chief Jose Humberto Henao told Reuters.

One of the clowns was killed instantly, and the second died the next day in hospital.

"The killings had nothing to do with the show the victims were performing at the time of the incident," Henao said in a telephone interview. "We are investigating the motive."

With an entrance fee of under 50 cents, Circo del Sol de Cali attracts mostly poor Colombians. It pitched its tents in Cucuta, near the border with Venezuela, earlier this month.

"The clowns came out to give their show, and then this guy came out shooting them," one audience member told local television. "It was terrible."

Sixfinger

Sometimes we human primates look back and wonder how our ancestors managed to survive without the handy gadgetry of modern life. And speaking of my favorite handy gadget: "Sixfinger, Sixfinger, man alive! How did I ever get along with five?"


It looks like a finger but it DOES ALL THIS: 1. Shoots cap bombs. 2. Launches S.O.S signals: "Help, I'm being held hostage by a projectile-launching plastic finger attached to my hand!" 3. Writes like a ballpoint pen that uses your own blood. 4. Shoots "secret bullets", which is far better than bullets having your return address written on them. 5. Shoots "message missiles" --and really, whose finger doesn't do that? 6. Shoots "fragmentation bomb", as opposed to those generic bombs that burst leaving clowns and ferris wheels in their wake.

yeah, i know
____________________

Reviews of Sixfinger:

"I adore sixfinger. I got one up on the gun rack of my truck and 7 more pickled in a jar."
-- Caesar "Chip" De Longpre

"Oh heavens no. We've seen enough devastation from Sixfinger"
Rance Binyard