The Randomness Continues

Saturday, November 29, 2003

The WiseGuy looked into the fridge. He NEEDED a Mountain Dew. He looked all around the dark and bad smelling fridge, before his eyes fell upon the LAST can...

Can I take it?

Sure you can. Your brother was saving it for YOU!

Who are you?

I'm your conscience.

The good conscience, or the bad one?

Well, that depends on who you ask.

Ok then, where's the other guy?

Well, that's kind of a long story... you see, his brakes fell on my knife as I was trying to... fix his... tires...

I didn't think 8 inch, non-existant, fat men dressed as an angel and a devil drove cars.

I don't drive a CAR, I have an H2. That bum drives a Jetta.
What's wrong with a Jetta?

Oh please don't tell me you OWN a Jetta, let alone DRIVE one. How come I always get stuck with the insecure High School kids who have no taste in cars? 'Get a job' says the wife. 'Become a conscience' says the wife. And I listened--

... Are you done?

Do you drive a Jetta?

No.

Then yes, yes I am. What do you drive then?

Well... I don't have a car. But when I get my license I might be able to borrow my parents '92 Ford Aerostar!

...

Hey, it has three wheels and drives!

Aren't cars supposed to have four wheels?

I'm working on that!

Sorry I'm late, someone cut my brakes!

I wonder who that could have been!

Don't look at me... I was watching an "I love Lucy" marathon!

Sure you were. But that doesn't matter. WiseGuy, don't take the Mountain Dew. Can't you just drink something else? Like maybe a warm cup of orange-honey-ginseng tea?

Ginseng?

It's an herb!

I've heard that herbal stuff is similar to drugs...

Drugs? Really... maybe a sip or two won't hurt after all...

I assure you this is nothing CLOSE to drugs!

Then don't drink it WiseGuy. Why waste your time on a sissy little wuss drink that has 'ginseng' and 'honey' in it. We should go raid a liquor case or drink butter!

Butter? That can't be good for your heart!

Heart?

He's a demon WiseGuy, the closest thing he has ever owned that is close to a heart was a Teddy bear named JoJo!

Hey! Shut up or I'll tell him about a certain blanket someone carried until they got their harp!

Uhh, guys? I believe I have two consciences to help me make the right decision, not argue about each other's baby toys.

MAYBE I CAN HELP!

Who do you think you are?

Yeah, this is our turf

Uhh, I thought I only had two consciences...

YOU DID, BUT OCCASIONALLY FATE DECIDES MAYBE YOUR MAKING ALL THE WRONG DECISIONS...

So fate sent me a third conscience dressed as a monkey?

WHAT DO YOU EXPECT? I WENT TO THE COSTUME SHOP TO LOOK FOR SOMETHING ORIGNAL... NOT A DEVIL OR AN ANGEL, BUT A MAN'S COSTUME!

So let me get this right monkey man, you're a third conscience?

Then what do you think he should do?

PERSONALLY I THINK HE SHOULD DRINK THIS MOUNTAIN DEW, THEN GO AND BUY ANOTHER 12 PACK AND DRINK ALL OF THEM, THEN REfILL THE CANS WITH WATER, USE A MAGNET TO PULL THE TAB BACK INTO IT'S ORIGNAL PLACE, AND LEAVE THEM IN THE FRIDGE FOR HIS BROTHER TO FIND!

...
...
...

So after much deliberation The WiseGuy fired both of his useless consciences, and went on making decisions with the monkey man, based completley on how much fun he would have laughing at other people's misfortunes based on things he had done... of course, with a man dressed as a monkey!

(NOTE: I learned how to bold and italicize things!)

Thursday, November 27, 2003

The Randomness Continues Presents:

TV shows The WiseGuy should NEVER make!

1) Queer eye for the WiseGuy
2) ALF reunion
3) Joe Millionaire: An extraterestrial affair
4) Iraqi Bandstand
5) Lets Poke Bob Barker: The GameShow
6) Dr. Phil vs. Michael Jackson cage match on WWE
7) My mother is a man!
8) The Inagural speech of the 2004 President Elect Pauly Shore
9) A show hosted by Gene and Richard Simmons
10) George W. Bush says the darndest things
11) Fat men being hit with pies: The Musical
12) Who wants to Kick a Millionaire in the Crotch
13) Court TV presents: The WiseGuy Murder trial
14) The E! True hollywood story: STIMPMITS
15) The Maury Show presents: MY baby girl is a fat man!

Sunday, November 23, 2003

The WiseGuy looked at his feet. Then he jumped over the neighbors fence and looked down at his feet again. Then he climbed back over and looked down at his feet once more. After doing this for several days in a row he came to a conclusion that the grass was in fact greener on the other side... so he hopped the fence and set fire to the neighbors lawn.


A Note from The WiseGuy:

I haven't really poster a lot lately, but with tons of homework, soccer practice twice a week (STIMPMITS is on my team), and struggling to keep my sanity... maybe that's a good thing. Oh well, if you need something to do go watch TV, you can find about 45 different programs on Kennedy.

Friday, November 14, 2003

The WiseGuy had been to doctors. He had been to psychiatrists, psychologists, psychotherapists, psychotic meglomaniacs, therepists, counsellors, pediatriciants, surgeons, tribal medicine men, voodoo priests, and Jerry Springer. But none of it seemed to help his problem. His problem was he often fell asleep and woke up in strange places. After seeing "Blue Moon" the high priestess of the "Cult of Blue Moons" who told him to drink the fresh blood of a teenage virgin every night with dinner, The WiseGuy decided to get true help.

Sp he consulted his extensive collection of literary resources. Hop on Pop didn't help. And neither did Yurtle the Turlte. The Alladin Coloring book only made things worse, and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle "stick-on" comic book only taught him that plastic does not replace bubble gum, no matter how broke you are.

But if all of these couldn't help him, then what could? He decided to read the Bible for answers. The truth was though, the WiseGuy couldn't read, he just looked at the pictures. So he couldn't tell what book was the Bible, and what book was Hitler's Mein Kampf. But if he couldn't read english, his chances of reading german was fairly low. So he guessed and picked a book out and started "reading it".

First of all, he was reading the bible on tape. Secondly, it was "Raffi sings Christmas carrols". That didn't help. With christmas songs fresh in his mind, he fell asleep and dreamed of a fight between Godzilla and Rudolph. When he woke up he was in the popular childrens book (movie, considering he can't read) Harry Potter.


"WiseGuy, wake up!"
"Whaaaa?"
"Practice your spells!"
"Umm..."
"You spells Mr. WiseGuy!"
"Well, the thing about that is... I rented Harry Potter, but it was boring so I watched Lord of the Rings again."
"Mr. WiseGuy! I will tell Dumbledore about this!"
"Who?"
"Albus Dumbledore! Only the finest headmaster this school has ever seen!"
"Is he the guy in the chocolate cards?"
"Yes."
"Sweet. Anybody have some?"
"Your spells Mr. WiseGuy! Now!"
"Umm, Emptius Bellius, Givemeus some Jellyus!"

The WiseGuy exploded. He woke up in the hospital.

"It's you! It really is you!"
"Who the f-- oh, it's the ugly chick."
"Hermione Granger."
"Yeah, umm, were your parents Hippies?"
"Muggles."
"I know, my parents suck too."
"No, their muggles."
"What is that? Your dogs name?"
"No! It's what wizards call non-magic people."
"..."
"Never mind. Is it true... you have a scar? On your right arm?"
"Uhh, yeah."
"How did it happen again?"
"I was playing kick ball and a girl stepped on it."
"That's... it?"
"Yeah."
"You mean, you didn't get it fighting dark wizards, or slaying dragons, or beating up a slime-covered winddingus?"
"Whoah now, this ball was huge!"
"Man, I'm gonna go back to being Harry Potter's Bitch!"

So The WiseGuy had no friends, he didn't know magic, and he was having a popcorn chicken hangover. But other than that, Quiditch was starting...

Not that he had any clue what it was.

"Hey you, what is Kid itch?"

The WiseGuy found himself in the hospital again. But this time it was night, his head hurt, and there were two mysterious people talking mysteriously about mysterious things. He could barely hear them, but they said...

"I heard the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher is coming tomorrow!
"They say he's a powerful wizard who knows everything, and answers everyone's questions!"

So he could answer everyones questions? The WiseGuy wondered if he could help him, and answer the question that was most imporatant to him...

The next morning he went to class... and who should he find as the new teacher... Alex Trebek.

"Hey, aren't you the guy from Jeopardy?"
"And arent you the kid who faced the dark lord and got a scar?"
"No, that's Harry Potter. I'm some shmuck."
"I'm sorry. The answer was, What is I'm some dumb shmuck. How muck did you wager?"
"..."
"Alright class, take your seats."

The WiseGuy didn't know Alex Trebek was a wizard. But then again, he didn't know Mike Meyers was Canadian either...

That night he was playing a game of wizards jenga (brought to you buy the satanic parker brothers) when a house elf came in.

"The WiseGuy must not go back to High School!"
"Really? Why not?"
"There is grave danger, I will use force if--"
"You mean I can never go back to high school?"
"No, it will be hard--"
"WOOHOO!"
"No master WiseGuy, this is a horrible--"
"I'm so out of school, I no ever did very good in it no how."
"Mast WiseGuy must beware, for You-Know-Who is coming!"
"Alex Trebek?"
"No, he who shall not be named!"
"STIMPMITS?"
"No! Vol--"
"The Tennesse Vollunteers?"
"Volder-- the dark lord!"
"Carrot Top?"
"NO, VOLDERMORT! Oh, Doby should not have said that. Bad Doby. Bad bad Doby!"

The WiseGuy knew he probably should have stopped the poor elf... before it found his knife collection... but, well, the thought kinda just never occured to him.

The next morning they were all in the main hall when the mail came. The WiseGuy never bought an owl, so his mail was delived by a monkey hanging from several helium balloons. The monkey kinda hovered by the ceiling before it collided with a snow owl, fell, and killed Ron Weasley. What are you gonna do, The WiseGuy had been through multiple side kicks before (STIMPMITS, Robin, Scruff McGruff, peer pressure, donuts), so he knew where to get a new one. It was a mail order catalogue he had up in his room. But that wasn't important now. His monkey had a letter for him. Written on the front in green ink was:

Mr. WiseAss
Girls Bathroom
Warthogs school of WitchCrap and Wickedry

He opened it up and found a credit card. He hated when they got his name and address wrong on junk mail.

It was almost Christmas, and everyone was leaving. By now his mail order sidekick had gotten here, and he was still teaching him stuff.

"Ok, this is my room."
"Yes, preciousss.""Did you just call me precious?"
"Mustn't ask us, not it's business!""
"What is your name, Smeagol!"
"You just Fucking asked us, precious!""... Shut up!"
"We hates you!"
"And we hates you!""We hated you first!"
"No we did!"
"Uh-uh!"
"Yeah!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"NO!"
"YES!"
"You smell!"
"No you smell!"
"Stupid fat WiseGuy!"

Well, the WiseGuy now knew using credit cards sent though the mail to order Gollum from Lord of the Rings wasn't a good idea. So instead he bought several Jar Jar Binks.

"Wesa doesa your homework!"

The WiseGuy knew Jar Jar could be annoying... but he foresaw a perfect future of owning multiple Jar Jar salt mines. The WiseGuy finally knew what Quiditch was. It was like soccer... using narcotics. He joined the team, and became the youngest seaker since Harry Potter died... that's not imporatant though.

What is important is having the right insurance. Because for all the times I, the WiseGuy, wake up in strange places I need to have that insurance with maximum coverage!
(AFLAC!)

The End

... or is it?


Yes, yes it is.

Sunday, November 09, 2003

The WiseGuy was in a big white open space, with no walls, doors, windows, or color. There was nothing. He didn't know how he got there, but like in most cases where your stuck in a big wide open white place, there's a black guy wearing funny sunglasss, a purple trench coat, and a green tie next to old leather chairs and an ancient TV.

"Do you know who I am WiseGuy?"
"Are you God?"
"Very close, I'm a crazy guy."
"Ahh, I see."
"That's not the point though. You've been living in a dream world."
"Really? You mean to tel me that the world is simply a computer program that enslaves the human mind to use it to power millions of machines that hunt down rebels in the scarred remains of the real world, and I'm the messiah who's come to do battle with an evil program that theatens to take over the machine world and the real world?????"

By the time I was done he had stolen my wallet and ran off.

Friday, November 07, 2003

Well, it's that time a year. No, it's not international shave your cat day. It's Christmas. And like most people old enough for christmas to be a hassle, and young enough to like getting free stuff (uhh, can you get too old to like getting free stuff?), I've come up in the middle. On one hand, I just saw a commercial with giant dancing christmas tree ornaments. And I thought you had to be drunk on a sense of self-accomplishment after buying $250,000 worth of bad yo-yo's 17 years ago and slowly rationing them out to friends and family to see stuff like that. I guess I was wrong. And then on the other hand, free stuff. Well, everything comes with a price. I guess for christmas It would be watching all the bad Christian cartoons that try to tell you the true story of christmas through children with big eyes. Now don't get me wrong, I feel the commercialization of christmas is second only to the attrocity that is the commercialization of Al Gore ("Uhh, sorry, I spent our last 10 bucks on this talking Al Gore Doll. 'You are hearing me talk.'" -Martin Prince). But, does the Catholic church have to show Santa toting AK-47's and beating up endangered pandas to get their point across? Drastic actions require drastic measures, true. But Santa Claus is not the epitomy of evil. I like to think of him more as a vague summary of evil's intentions through the use of flashing lights and loud whistles. So, if we can't blame this on someone, how are we going to sleep tonight with visions of denial dancing in our heads? Of course! We'll embrace the American tradition of blaming our problems on an ethnic group. But who... African Americans? No. Japanese? No. Native Americans? No. Al Gore? Tempting, but no. Ah yes, we'll blame it on the secret alliance between Iraqi Dictator Saddam Hussein, Al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden, North Korean leader Kim Dae-jung, and of course, Jeffrey the Giraffe, infamous leader of the terrorist group Toys R' Us, selling guns to our children for years and years!

Well, now that we have that solved, everyone can rest easy knowing that Toys R' Us sales are continuing to stay higher than average because no one reads my web site. I love the sweet smell of bitter reallity in the morning, don't you?