All material written by Todd Monkeypants, Davey Creative, and E-Dawg Johnston except where otherwise noted.
TODAY ON THE ÜBERMIDGET CALENDAR
BAD POETRY CORNER
A RELIGIOUS PLAY IN ONE ACT:
ST. FRANCIS TRAINS THE MASTIFF
St. Francis: Heel! Heel, boy!
Mastiff: Grrrrrrrrrrr.
St. Francis: I command you, in the holy name of Jesus Christ Our Lord and Saviour, HEEL!
Mastiff: Grrrrrrrrrrrr.
St. Francis: Very well then. Here's a biscuit.
The mastiff heels.
Curtain.
ARE YOU A GOOD CONSUMER?
TAKE OUR JINGLE QUIZ AND FIND OUT!
Your job as a consumer is to remember the advertising you're exposed to, so you can buy the right products. That's why jingles are so damn catchy. Have you been paying attention? Choose the correct answers below and find out.
"I love Goldfishes 'cuz they're so ____________."
A. fucking trout-flavored
B. aesthetically pleasing
C. delicious
D. high in sodium
"Celebrate the moments of your ______________."
A. virginity
B. consciousness
C. conception
D. life
"Smile, you've got ____________."
A. an erection
B. herpes
C. a cleft palate
D. French's
"The best part of waking up is ______________ in your cup."
A. turpentine
B. dentures
C. absinthe
D. Folger's
"We love to see you ______________."
A. smile
B. prance around naked
C. get conked in the head with a baseball bat
D. leave
ANSWERS: Figure 'em out yourself, lazy ass.
ASK DR. ARGON:
HE'S SMARTER THAN A HOT TAMALE!
Dr. Argon, once Senior Science Editor and renowned columnist for The Grand Inquisitor Web-zine, found himself coldly cast onto the pavement one fateful morning when budget cuts forced the G.I. to close its doors indefinitely.
Fortunately for our planet, Übermidget rescued the good Doctor from a life of squalor and degradation. The Beacon of Science blazes brightly once again. Welcome back, Doc!
Dear Dr. Argon:
I was reading an issue of Popular Mechanics recently, the cover story of which described e-bombs, or electromagnetic pulse bombs, which can render inoperable all electrical/electronic equipment within a several-hundred-mile radius, while leaving organic matter unharmed. PM also said terrorists could build one for $400. It sure is scary, Doc. However, if word processors were to suddenly become obsolete, I'd be able to pursue my life-long dream of becoming a scrivener. What are the chances that one of these bombs will hit within the next three years?
—Dark-Age Dan
Dear Chuck,
Back when I was studying at the science garage, after serving two years in the Air Force, there was a film called The Day The Earth Stood Still. In it, two aliens, Klatuu and Gort, were hell-bent on destroying our great republic. God, I hated those evil aliens—they were heinous, malignant things, who would stop at nothing to put themselves in power. Anyway, they had a powerful ray, which they used to bring every mechanical device on Earth to a halt.
I decided after seeing this movie, that I should devote my life to stopping this from ever happening. Unfortunately for the world, I didn't, nor have I to this day. I blame only myself for not protecting the planet Earth. I am . . .an old, foolish man.
To continue: back in my day, we had a word processor we liked to call "the human brain." I think you'll find it saves, deletes, and even edits your work quite satisfactorily, and no E-bomb will ever affect it. Of course, various other bombs, of the A and H variety, certainly will!
Dear Doc Argon:
Is there a scientific way to stop people from annoying others? Is there any scientific scale to actually measure annoyance? I need to know because there are a lot of annoying people out there.
—Davey Creative
Good question, Chuck.
The truth is that people aren't born annoying, they're made that way, kind of like you might make a sandcastle out of sand. Sure, a sandcastle doesn't start out as much, but once you take a mound of sand and add to it, sculpt it, work in little details and ornaments so subtle that it would take a highly skilled eye to notice them, add in little sculptural homages to the Victorian era and make little tiny people in the windows to watch the tide as it sweeps in...err, well, you can end up with quite an annoying person!
You know that whole sandcastle thing I was talking about earlier, Chuck? Squash that, let's look at snowflakes. Snowflakes drift down, building layers upon each other, building up a cold veil over the earth. When they build up enough, school is canceled and you can build a snowman, or snow scientist, if you like! Well, that's sort of how annoying people are. They're made of snow, which is very, very cold, and you can melt them with a hairdryer turned on "High."
Of course, I'm not advocating melting annoying people. That's at least a felony, or something that could get you in trouble. But it's the only way I can think of on accurately measuring the level of annoying energy in a person: by seeing how long they take to melt.
Dear Dr. Argon:
I think I have discovered a new color, which I like to call "Ergolicious." But whenever I try to describe it to anyone, they think I'm lying, because they've never seen it before. What to do?
—Roy G. Bive
Dear Chuck,
They say one of the hardest colors to be is green. I don't really believe that, though, because it seems one of the more gregarious and outgoing colors.
But to answer your question, I think Crayola has really gone too far in providing so many crayons to our impressionable youngsters. Brown, Black, Red, Yellow, Blue, and Green...those were all the colors I needed. In fact, those are the crayons I still use today. If I don't have a color I need, I just draw an outline in another color, and then write the name of the color I don't have in the outline. It seems to get the point across.
What we're really talking about is the death of imagination in our culture, and quite frankly, it starts with the oversaturation of crayons that overwhelm and possess our youth each day. I'd like to thank you for calling attention to this problem.
Wow! These were some great letters today! You Argonauts certainly are bright little bulbs. I think I'm going to close up the Science Shack for today, and have myself a little rest.
Until next time...I'm Dr. Argon.
All contents ©2001 Monkeypants Enterprises of the Lower 48