Archive for August, 2010
August 28th, 2010 Posted 4:48 pm
Due to the flood of requests to allow readers of Bizarreville to get a glimse inside our book, Tales of Obamaland, below is an excerpt from one of the 21 fables. This fable is titled “Labelmania”, a fun satirical story about the medical breakthrough of the century and how corporate lawyers “helped” things along. It’s just a portion of the fable…sorry, have to buy the book to get the rest of the story.
LABELMANIADeflabenheimer donned her coat And hurried in her lab. So anxious to observe the float Of this new dab she’d fabbed. Could this be breakthrough she had dreamed For ’bout a thousand days? The testing and investing schemed To snake through this tough maze? Eureka! Chloro-keedron split Extracted from Lean feed And porogated omni-twit From that deplungant seed!! Deflab just found the magic key A challenge centuries old Discovered by sheer mastery A cure for Common Cold. Had taken years of diligence Some rants and screams aloud More hard work than intelligence Tom Edison’d be proud. It took a myriad of weeks To do tests, get approval And guard against sneak info leaks In market tests in Shmooville. And when the testing was complete One side-effect, one hitch If gulp a pill in too much heat Could cause arm pits to itch. Found this outcome in 2 percent Blew off as Peanut Stand But sent it up to get consent From bland old Legal land You must attach a warning tag To warn of armpit itch A glitch like this must twitch a flag To wag in every pitch. But lawyers went on further still Explored the chance of scratch What if there’s scratching willy-nill? What if some scratch could snatch? Then open skin for germ infect And if that scrape’s severe? They’ll need to get their scratchings checked Keep penicillin near. Put all this on the Warning Tag And note the chance of staph And just might cause the eyes to bag A groin pull if you laugh. Another Legal mind weighed-in What if the sweat glands swelled? If hyperthermia swayed in Cuz perspiration quelled? The patient could go into shock Get dizzy, slump, or faint Dehydrate like a desert rock Turn 13 shades of paint.
Get your own copy of Tales of Obamaland to find out how this crazy fable concludes. Buy a copy of the book for a friend who is taking things just a little too seriously and needs to lighten up a bit. Buy it for a lawyer. Just click on Amazon.com or any of the other e-retailers in the sidebar to the right. And thanks for your support for Bizarreville.
August 22nd, 2010 Posted 5:17 pm
Followers of the religion Vegetism are not strangers to controversy. Their faithful have faced the scorns of many naysayers who have criticized their unusual worship of plants, fruits, and vegetables. But their latest initiative has created an uproar in the non-Vegetism population.
It all started when the Vegites announced plans to purchase property to build an enormous worship site near Ground Zero, obviously regarded as a sacred place by many people. It got even more heated when it became known that the Vegite worship site would, in fact, be a gigantic 50-foot high compost pile full of potato peelings, grass clippings, skunk beer, stale fruit, and other vegetating crud that would normally find its way into a garbage disposal.
Opponents have claimed that the people responsible for the 911 disaster may well have been on some kind of nutty, vegetable diet causing short-circuits in their reasoning power. Vegite supporters insist there is no evidence, no proof, no information whatsoever that supports such a goofy notion.
People who are close to the opponents but refused to go on record say that there is a hidden agenda reason for opposing the Vegite shrine. They say that the pile will just stink to high heaven. Merchants in a 6-block radius will not be able to stay open during hot summer days because of the overwhelming stench from this pile of decaying garbage. They say they asked whether the stinky pile could be enclosed, but the Vegite leaders had refused saying that the compost pile will not properly biodegrade inside.
It is not clear how this battle will end. Administration officials say that this is a free country and people should be allowed to build what they want, be able to worship the way they want without undue/arbitrary restrictions. One insider said that he thinks it is funny/ironic that many opposers are free enterprise supporters on most other issues, but for some reason, oppose this one because it does not fit their own agenda. “You can’t have it both ways,” he said, while chowing down a vegetable hot dog.
Disclaimer: all stories in Bizarreville are fiction.
August 17th, 2010 Posted 2:14 am
G. Marvin Shlonk, the CEO of Bumfunk Motors, just announced plans to step down from his post effective Monday. Shlonk took over the position 4 years ago, after successfully taking Lardmark Airlines into bankruptcy and applying for several government bailouts, handouts, and kickbacks. He has generally been regarded as a liquidation expert, and used his skills to downsize Bumfunk from 6 carlines down to 2, shutdown over 500 dealers nationwide, and reduce operating costs by eliminating Product Development and other non-essential functions. He was not widely loved by employees, but he had claimed that he did not care anyway.
Shlonk’s claim to fame at Bumfunk was the introduction of an innovative line of wind-up rubberband vehicles that required no fuel whatsoever, and fit the President’s vision of energy efficiency. The cars also employed the patented Flintstone braking system, considered “leading edge” in terms of energy efficiency. Shlonk converted several old-fashioned assembly lines that had produced highly successful, but gas-hog sports cars into modern lines to produce the new vehicles he named WhizzerFunks.
Marketing studies had suggested the public was clamoring for this type of car, and would line up to snap them up. Turned out, however, that people became discouraged after discovering the car required 600 cranks to travel about 3 miles. Back-packing eco-nerds loved the car. The rest of the nation’s car-buying public just laughed, and stepped over to the gasoline models, at Bumfunk’s competitors. Miles of rubber band supply stock still sit idle in Bumfunk warehouses.
The true downfall of Mr. Shlonk came when he referred to Bumfunk as “Bizarreville Motors” shortly after receiving a 3rd government bailout and making all Bumfunk common stock worthless. That little slip of the tongue was an embarrassment to the Board, who immediately demanded his resignation.
Shlonk has expressed optimism for his future. He said that there are plenty other pathetic companies out there who need bailouts, liquidations, and his style of indiscriminate makeovers. He hinted that he is headed for the consumer electronics business segment to seek opportunities.
Posted in Life in Bizarreville
August 6th, 2010 Posted 1:24 am
“Good morning, it’s 7:42 and we’re back with Fat Talk. Are you as outraged as I am about these new proposed regulations in Bizarreville that would put a 50-cent tax on every can and bottle of non-diet soft drinks? I mean, first it was the flap about having to pay for 2 airline seats if you were over 275 pounds…now this? Call me at 1-800-CHUNKSTER, lines are open. These feeble attempts by the government to thin us down to some pre-determined limit have gone too far, and it’s high time we rebel. Our layers are bought and paid-for. But here comes Big Brother again feeling a new social calling to manage personal behavior. 1-800-CHUNKSTER. First call is from some skinny guy in Flumplard.”
“Yeah, first time caller, long-time listener. You know you fat slobs sit around all day eating box after box of Oreos, bag after bag of nacho cheeseballs, Twinkies by the carload. You don’t exercise, you don’t jazzercize, you never consider dieting, you just eat, fart, and s#!$ around the house…”
“So…..what’s your point?”
“My point is: you and your tub-master listeners need to stop continually jamming your pie-holes. Your obesity is affecting your health, and all of us skinny taxpayers are picking up the tab. Most of you are too fat and too lazy to work, so you end up sucking away on the government dole. Even without a job, you somehow still find ways to overeat, even if it mean sacrificing the roof over your head to get that double cheeseburger.”
“You sound like you need some Anger Management therapy, my friend. There’s a good therapist …right next to the Main Street Bakery in Flumplard…mmmm…best peach cobblers I’ve ever eaten. Like a peach explosion in your mouth. And cupcakes. Once bought a dozen of their red velvet cupcakes…melt in your mouth awesome. Try it. Next caller…?
“Hi. I was going to make a point about the soft drink tax, but you reminded me of another bakery in Flumplard. It’s right on the corner of 4th and Flumplard Boulevard…called Creamy Dreams, or something like that. They make their own fudge that they spread over giant pecan danish pastries. Never had anything like it. You should try it.”
“Mmmmm…sounds good. I may go there after the show is over. You know, while we’re on the subject of bakeries, I just heard a rumor that a new business is opening up in Shlonktown to DELIVER fresh bakery items to your home…right to your front door. That’s right …something we have been advocating for years…reminiscent of the old bread trucks, but this time with trays of all kinds of yummy baked goodies. Don’t even have to get off the couch. Call me if you know anything about this at 1-800-CHUNKSTER. It can be such a hassle to traipse down to a bakery a couple times a day. And, if you’re like me, you smell the place and never want to leave…here’s another skinny guy on the line.”
“Why don’t you just move into a bakery? Do your whole show from inside a freaking bakery every day? That way you could just blather for 3 hours about all the smells and new concoctions the baker is whipping up…put all your listeners into a sugar-induced fantasy trance…”
“Not a bad idea….hey, Johnnie, put that on our list for next week. Man, I’m getting hungry just thinking about it. Got any more of those Ho-ho’s or Ding-dong’s hidden in your console back there, Johnnie? Be honest, you chubby twerp. Hand ‘em over. Back in a minute….”