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AD Illustrated: Friday Funnies and Foibles

And yes I know that a terrible thing happened on the far side of the world that somehow was caused by President Trump merely breathing, but not everyone can get spun up over it. Not everyone at all. Once they spin you up it’s very hard to spin yourself down.

And so… now for something completely different… Government Film No. 42: How Not to Be Seen
[picture of forest]
Announcer: In this picture, there are 47 people; none of them can be seen. In this film, we hope to show you the value
of not being seen. Here is Mr. Bagthorpe of London, SE14. He cannot be seen. Now, I’m gonna ask him to stand up. Mr. Bagthorpe, will you stand up please?
[Bagthorpe stands up, gets shot, and dies]
Announcer: This demonstrates the value of not being seen.

The Dead Parrot

Customer: Hello I wish to register a complaint. Hello Miss?
Shop Assistant: What do you mean Miss?
Customer: Oh, I’m sorry I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint.
Shop Assistant: Sorry, we’re closing for lunch.
Customer: Never mind that my lad, I wish to complain about this parrot what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
Shop Assistant: Oh yes the Norwegian Blue – what’s wrong with it?
Customer: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, it’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with it.
Shop Assistant: No, no it’s resting, look.
Customer: Look my lad, I know a dead parrot when I see one and I’m looking at one right now.
Shop Assistant: No, no it’s not dead it’s resting…
Customer: Resting?!
Shop Assistant: Yeah, remarkable bird the Norwegian Blue, beautiful plumage innit?
Customer: The plumage don’t enter into it, it’s stone dead.
Shop Assistant: No no it’s resting.
Customer: Alright then, if it’s resting I’ll wake it up. “Halloo Polly! I’ve got a nice cuttlefish for you when you wake up Polly parrot!
Shop Assistant: (Knocks the cage) There it moved!
Customer: No it didn’t! That was you pushing the cage!
Shop Assistant: I did not!
Customer: Yes you did! Halloo Polly! Pooolly! (bangs it on counter) Polly Parrot! Wake up! (bangs it on counter) Polly! (throws it on the floor) Now that’s what I call a dead parrot.
Shop Assistant: No no it’s stunned.
Customer: Look my lad I’ve had just about enough of this, that parrot is definitely deceased, and when I bought it not half an hour ago you assured me that its lack of movement was due to it being tired and shagged out after a long squawk.
Shop Assistant: It’s probably pining for the fjords.
Customer: Pining for the fjords, what kind of talk is that? Look why did it fall flat on its back the moment I got it home?
Shop Assistant: The Norwegian Blue prefers kipping on its back, it’s a beautiful bird, lovely plumage.
Customer: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot, and I discovered that the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it had been nailed there.
Shop Assistant: Well of course it was nailed there otherwise it would of muscled up to those bars and “voom”!
Customer: Look matey, this parrot wouldn’t “voom” if I put 4,000 volts through it, its bleedin’ demised.
Shop Assistant: It’s not, it’s pining.
Customer: It’s not pining it’s passed on! This parrot is no more! It has ceased to be! It’s expired and gone to meet its maker! This, is a late parrot! It’s a stiff! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed it to the perch it would be pushin’ up the daisies! It’s rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! “THIS IS AN EX PARROT!”
Shop Assistant: Well, better replace it then (walks into store cupboard)
Customer: If you wanna get anything done in this country you gotta complain ’till you’re blue in the mouth.
Shop Assistant: Sorry guv, we’re right out of parrots.
Customer: I see, I see, I get the picture.
Shop Assistant: I’ve got a slug.
Customer: Does it talk?
Shop Assistant: Not really, no.
Customer: Then it’s scarcely a replacement then.
Shop Assistant: Look mate, I didn’t wanna work in a pet shop. I wanted to be a lumberjack…

The War Against Pornography 
Documentary Presenter: The gastropod is a randy little fellow whose tiny brain scarcely strays from the subject of you-know-what. The randiest of the gastropods is the limpet; this hot-blooded little beast, with its tent-like shell, is always on the job. Its extramarital activities are something startling. Frankly, I don’t know how the female limpet finds the time to adhere to the rock face! How am I doing?
Gladys: Disgusting!
George: But more interesting!
Documentary Presenter: Another loose-living gastropod is the periwinkle. This shameless little libertine with its characteristic ventral locomotion is not the marrying kind! “Anywhere, anytime” is its motto, off with the shell and they’re at it!
Gladys: What about the lemmelebrates?
Documentary Presenter: I’m coming to them. The Great Scallop: This tacky, scrofulous old rapist is second in depravity only to the common clam. This latter is a right whore! A harlot! A cynical, bed-hopping, firm-breasted, Rabelaisian bit of seafood that makes Fanny Hill look like a dead pope! And finally, among the lemmelebrate bivalves, that most depraved of the whole subspecies, the whelk. The whelk is nothing but a homosexual of the worst kind! This gay boy of the gastropods, this queer crustacian, this mincing mollusk, this screaming, prancing, limp-wristed queen of the deep makes me sick!
Announcer: We would like to apologize for the way in which politicians are represented in this programme. It was never our intention to imply that politicians are weak-kneed, political time-servers who are more concerned with their personal vendettas and private power struggles than the problems of government. Nor to suggest at any point that they sacrifice their credibility by denying free debate on vital matters in the mistaken impression that party unity comes before the well-being of the people they supposedly represent. Nor to imply at any stage that they are squabbling little toadies without an ounce of concern for the vital social problems of today. Nor indeed do we intend that viewers should consider them as crabby, ulcerous, little self-seeking vermin with furry legs and an excessive addiction to alcohol and certain explicit sexual practices which some people might find offensive. We are sorry if this impression has come across.

Firefighting in Reverse

The Galaxy Song

Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown
And things seem hard or tough
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft
And you feel that you’ve had quite enough….

Automotive observation via Ol’ Remus at the Woodpile Report.

Just remember that you’re standing on a planet that’s evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour
That’s orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it’s reckoned,
A sun that is the source of all our power
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour
Of the galaxy we call the ‘Milky Way’

Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars.
It’s a hundred thousand light years side to side
It bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light years thick
But out by us, it’s just three thousand light years wide
We’re thirty thousand light years from galactic central point
We go ’round every two hundred million years
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe

The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go, at the speed of light, you know
Twelve million miles a minute, and that’s the fastest speed there is
So remember, when you’re feeling very small and insecure
How amazingly unlikely is your birth
And pray that there’s intelligent life somewhere up in space
‘Cause there’s bugger-all down here on Earth!

Comments on this entry are closed.

  • Casey Klahn March 15, 2019, 1:57 PM

    I can’t tell you how many times I’ve relied on the lumberjack song when hanging by last strand of sanity. Thank you.

  • ghostsniper March 15, 2019, 3:05 PM

    That red assed quesadilla maker. My wife likes quesadilla’s. Someone gave her the red a few years ago, we used it once. You lay a tortilla in it, then scoop your stuff into it, lay another tortilla on top, then scrunch the whole thing down as flat as possible when you close and latch the lid.

    The cooking surfaces are divided into about 6 compartments, but they are covered up when you put the first tort in it. So you just ladle your stuff in it and pay it no never mind. When you squeeze the lid shut, which takes considerable force, shit squirts out all the way around. Over the edge and down the sides and on the counter. But wait, there’s more. You clean up one side and then the other and when you look back at the first side HOT shit has squirted out and is puddling on the counter. Now you’re hot. You clean that stuff up and in the middle you think, hmmm…if this side squirted what about the other, so you look and…. Squirt. All. Over. That. Fucking. Counter. too. WTF is going on here?!?!?

    So you throw the cleaning cloth down and go sit down. Glaring at that quesadilla maker from across the room. Time to go lift the lid and check it out. That latch is tight. That stuff inside is now under heat pressure and has expanded even more. Using both hands, and your knees against the lower cabinet door, you pop it loose and 3000 degrees of mexi-heat washes the UV film off your glasses instantly and replaces it with steam. “MY EYES!” “I CAN’T SEE!!!” You hold onto the counter with one hand and take your destroyed glasses off with the other, relieved that you are not blind. Can’t see worth a fuck, but not blind. shwew That was close.

    Clean the glasses up and reinstall and head for the q-maker. There it is, all toasty golden brown with steam emanating up from it. You grab a spatula to lift it out of there but find out quickly you need an industrial shovel. Yep. That bitch welded itself down into them 6 troughs and the edge, all the way around, is one sixteenth of an inch thick and the consistency of cast iron. Looking close, you can’t tell where the black ‘maker stops and the q begins, it looks like all one piece. WTF???

    So you grab a steak knife and try to find the line of demarcation between the m and the q. It gives way, so you push the knife in some more. Then you trace the steak all the way around the perimeter getting 3rd degree burns on the back of your knuckles as you pass by that raised lid. OMG, where the burn spray iz???

    Finally you pop that q outta there and it clanks onto the plate. Clanks. It is hard. Soft in some internal spots, but hard on the edges. To break it into bite size pieces is going to require a wood chisel and mallet, or maybe the radial arm saw. When you get the thing divided and plated you just stare at it. Spoon some salsa on it, maybe some sour cream.

    Then you bite in to it. 2 incisors snap off instantly. The minced ghost peppers you put inside kills your whole mouth inside and out. The heat from your exhale as you scream in pain melts your plastic lenses. “MY EYES! I CAN’T SEE!!!” The wife can’t help cause she took a bite and is writhing on the floor from cardiac arrest. She’s allergic to them ghost peppers. OMG, OMG!!!!

    Anyway, the qm was a kitchen appliance someone gave us and we gave it to the landfill. Just passing it on. (not responsible for spelling errors)

  • Perduta March 15, 2019, 3:35 PM

    I have the quesadilla maker. It does make the tortilla a little rough around the edges, as I recall. I say as I recall because I, too, used it only once or twice. Still taking up space in my cabinet, but the lid has a cute little chili pepper handle. Sometimes I take it out and look at it.
    And now for something completely different, but sort of related to today’s subject matter. Kinky!

  • Vanderleun March 15, 2019, 4:07 PM

    Oh sniper you funny guy. Me love you long time boom boom.

  • DrTedNelson March 15, 2019, 4:45 PM

    Please tell me that the police car is a joke. Right, guys? Photoshop, right? RIGHT??!

  • Nori March 15, 2019, 7:32 PM

    No, Doc, I could’nt believe it either, til I noticed the Canadian flag on its right rear. 905 is the area code for Ontario. 🎵 Ohhh Canadaaa 🎶
    Really detest kitchen gadgets. They never work as advertised (ask Ghostsniper), and clutter the kitchen til they’re passed on to Goodwill.
    C’mon,Casey, join me in a chorus:
    🎶 I’m a lumberjack and I’m OK 🎶
    I sleep all night and I work all day…
    🇨🇦 🇨🇦

  • Sam L. March 15, 2019, 7:35 PM

    The Python is a snarky beast, and quite funny at times.

  • PA Cat March 15, 2019, 7:54 PM

    About not letting the cat out: here’s an oldie but goodie video of the ways in which cats can abuse humans indoors or in the back yard: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5VBriRtl_aM
    Miss Olive is doubtless taking notes for her next aerobics routine.

    Bonus: the background music is the finale of the1812 Overture.

  • Gordon Scott March 16, 2019, 4:29 AM

    I remember, in my early teens, a female friend raving at me about some circus show that was on the local PBS station on Sunday night.

    Some history of Python thing I read/watched mentioned that the first station in the US to carry the show was the Dallas PBS station. They played it at 10 p.m. on Sunday. There was some definite fear among the station people that it might lead to protesters.

    Monday morning the station manager got the overnight ratings. Normally that time slot got 1/2 of a percent of the viewers at that time–sometimes the number was too small to measure, i.e. zero Neilsen households in Dallas were tuned in. The rating for Python was 8. The manager was sure it was a mistake. But it wasn’t.

  • Snakepit Kansas March 16, 2019, 6:01 AM

    Canadian Jomo cops. FFS.