Tchaikovsky Sounds Funny: Don't Do Drugs and Turn Into Keith Richards, and Don't Name Your Son Saddam

Is this where I put in key words such as sex, lesbians, vampires, Christopher Lloyd and others things to which this blog do not pertain, but by putting them here, I may get hits from all the Christoper Lloyd lesbian vampire fans (and you know who you are)? This is the primarily humorous and occasionally rambling writings of Leon Tchaikovsky, humor writer. Enjoy.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Don't Do Drugs and Turn Into Keith Richards, and Don't Name Your Son Saddam

I am a dyslexic paraskevidekatriaphobic: instead of fearing Fridays the 13th, I fear Mondays the 31st. I was thinking of writing a horror movie about a dyslexic paraskevidekatriaphobic killer who gets things backwards: every month a 31st falls on a Monday, instead of slaughtering teenagers, he goes to old age homes and tells them jokes. I promise: people will be running from the theaters screaming.

I met a politician who agrees with a proposal that political candidates be drug tested. What worries me is: he favors drug testing because he keeps forgetting what drugs he took, and he figures the test will remind him.

Speaking of drugs: has anyone seen any of the interviews with Keith Richards? I think the best way to stop teenagers from doing drugs is to show them Keith Richards and explain to them that this is what doing drugs will do to you. I promise: they’ll run out screaming.

A city whose sports team who lost a sporting event broke into a riot. This upsets me greatly because it shows a deep lack of respect for an important area of being a good sport: only the city of a team that wins gets to riot.

It was announced that you can lose weight just by reading. So, from now on, I am offering this blog as a healthy, weight losing activity. Read on.

Jesus Christ is alive and living in West Virginia. A man legally changed his name to Jesus Christ. Where he lived wouldn’t let him do it, so he moved to West Virginia, where, I guess, at this point, they figured, why not? What’s making him nervous is his neighbors changed their names to Herod and Judas Iscariot, and they keep inviting him to go rafting.

This reminds me when Santa Clause died. Yes, Virginia, there was a Santa Clause, and he’s dead. A man legally changed his name to Santa Clause once, and I remember when he died. I am certain children everywhere were traumatized when they heard that Santa Clause had died. That got me to thinking: I would never deliberately change my name to something where people would be traumatized when they hear I died. Therefore, I am legally changing my name to George W. Bush.

Pat Robertson has me worried. He stated recently that liberal Judges are more of a threat than al Qaeda. Now, I don’t know about him, but if I’m on an airplane, I would feel more comfortable if the guy sitting next me turns to me and says “as a judge, I will uphold Roe v. Wade” than if he turns to me and says “death to all Americans.”

I hope al Qaeda doesn’t read this blog, because I know what they should do: they should recruit masochists. Think of it: the worse thing that could happen to a masochist serving in al Qaeda is getting arrested and tortured, only not only would they love it, they’d probably give the guards instructions on how to better lead them around in leashes while tied up.

I recall when my wife told me that Bill Clinton and I have the same taste in ties. Sure enough, there was President Clinton on a magazine cover wearing the exact same tie I had. “No,” I explained to my wife, “Bill Clinton and I do not have the same taste in ties. You and Hillary have the same taste in ties.”

Let’s face it. We men have no idea how to pick a tie. We know how to pick mud flaps. If we had to pick our own ties, all ties would be of naked women and Calvin peeing.

I was in line when a young boy kept running around. His parents kept telling him “Saddam, get back here”, “Saddam, put that down”, “Saddam, be quiet.” My advice: if you’ve named your son Saddam, it’s time to pick a new first name. Or at least give him a nickname you can use. Billy Bob might do better these days. Or Jesus Christ: that name suddenly is popular again.

I am told my mother’s old friend will be dropping by soon. She met him a few years ago: he was a disheveled, disfigured alcoholic stumbling around the beach. She tried to give him money, but she couldn’t understand a word he said and he kept refusing to take her money. She got suspicious when this homeless man then got on a large yacht and sailed away. So, we look forward to our visit soon from Keith Richards.

So, remember, young Saddam: don't do drugs, stay in school, and just tell conservatives at least you're not a liberal Judge.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

How does it feel?
To be on your own?
In a spider hole?

8:09 AM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

At least drug testing with Keith Richards should be easy. Just check "Yes."

11:53 AM


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