Tchaikovsky Sounds Funny: September 2007

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.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

He's a conservative lumberjack and he's OK

I received a most unusual letter. It asked if I wish to sell any timber on my land. Now, I live in the center of a city. I don’t even have grass, much less timber. Maybe I should write them and tell them to come on over and cut all the trees they want from my property.

I don’t know why we liberal-types support gay rights, since it turns out that it would be primarily conservative-types that would benefit. All you people sending money to evangelists or Republican Senators, quit it. You really want to help them? Supporting gay rights instead is the best thing you can do to help them.

By the way, since we liberal-types are being asked why we hate America, I always try to explain: we don’t hate all America. We just think parts of northern Alaska are a little too cold for summer vacation. From that, there has developed all this misunderstanding…

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Vomit, Clowns, and Other Childhood Joys

Yesterday was a bad day. A colleague was followed around by the press wanting information on a criminal probe. Today, the press was following me, but they accidentally thought I was someone else. I’ve been mistook for a celebrity. I promptly decided to throw trash at the press. I think that works out for everyone: they get their story, the celebrity gets some free press, and I get to get rid of my trash without having to take it to the trash cans.

While walking down the street, I saw a sad sight. A person obviously down on his luck was sitting on vomit. The person waling in front of me looked at him at disgust. The down on his luck guy seemed offended and screamed at the man “hey, this vomit isn’t mine.” Which, shows me that this is a man who would rather you think he’d sit in someone else’s vomit than admit it is his own vomit. Interesting priorities in his world.

I have only seen one episode of “South Park”. I ran into someone else who had seen only one episode. As I know about the humor where Kenny dies in many of the episodes, I jokingly remarked how Kenny died in the episode I saw. The woman who had also only seen just one episode obviously doesn’t know about Kenny, as she excitedly replied “I saw the same episode you did.”

I was at a store selling vintage goods when someone pointed out a really freaky looking clown mask Halloween costume from the past. A friend held it up and asked “what psychotic parents would ever dress their kid in this?” The thing had an air of youthful serial killer to it. Even children who aren’t afraid of clowns would have been scared of that costume. It was at that precise moment that I finally remember something I’ve been trying to remember for years: that was the costume my parents bought me for Halloween. Well, at least that explains a lot of questions I had in life. Such as, why none of my classmates would ever sit near me in lunch. Maybe I shouldn’t have kept wearing the mask everyday to school.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Maybe Yellow Submarines Can Protect Our Borders

The good news is: this is not a spam bulletin offering you free ringtones, breast enhancement, or a home mortgage. Which makes me think America is full of homeless people insecure with their bodies who spend too much time on the telephone. I have to confess: I am 50 years old. I am not certain if I even know what a ringtone is. I don’t even own a cell phone, nor do I want one. Trust me, the harder it is for people to interrupt my phone with their insane yacking, the better. Why people spend top dollar to purposely subject themselves to tirades from friends who will explain problems in detail over which you can be of no assistance is beyond me.

So, if you were hoping this would give you a free ringtone: sorry.

Yet, I will give you my thoughts on immigration. I am of Welsh (among other ancestries) descent. My ancestors were traders who moved to Block Island and peacefully traded with the American natives. It is a little known fact in the British century history that we pass down that the Welsh were in America before the British came and ruined things with their settlement in Plymouth Rock. The Brits ended up slaughtering the natives, brought diseases to the continent, and were really oppressive with their religion even as they were escaping religious persecution.

We Welsh should have stopped immigration in 1619. That was probably a huge mistake that we did not do so.

Yet, seriously, it has been our long history that every generation comes to America for opportunity and then immediately wants the doors shut behind them so no one else can come in. To me, it is sad that most of our ancestors came to America to escape oppression, political and/or economic, and yet we don’t have the same consideration for others who might also want to come to the United States to improve their lives.

OK, so I have now revised my earlier opinion: no Brits allowed entrance, except the Beatles, Monty Python, and maybe Beckham. Let’s see if he can still play.

Speaking of ancestors, I have only one famous ancestor: my great great great great great uncle sailed in the first submarine in the American Revolution. To show you how little history they teach today, I once mentioned this fact when an intern then asked “did you ever get to meet him?” Yes, the American Revolution happened during my childhood. What did happen during my childhood was the British Invasion when the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and other British groups came to America. So, I gathered we Americans and the Brits have patched things up. I do fear, though, that interns believe that the first submarine was a yellow submarine designed to fight the blue meanies.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Why It Is Good to Die on Stage

Well, if I am supposed to start a diary…

There were a couple of comical moments in my most recent day. I was arguing a point through email when someone wrote back something very insulting. I wrote back “don’t make me pull this Internet over” which she thought was a funny remark. I am not quite certain how one pulls an Internet over, but I will admit, there are lots of times I wish Al Gore hadn’t ever invented this thing.

By the way, to come to Al Gore’s defense: while people make fun of him for that, he actually did chair the committee in the U.S. Senate that did approve the creation of the first Internet system. The Internet began as a Defense project so lines of communication should flow more quickly and continue even if conventional means of communications were destroyed during combat. Somehow, the truth of a matter becomes a laughing stock.

That’s how Republicans operate, I notice. They take someone good a Democrat does and turn it into a joke. Republicans, on the other hand, take jokes and turn them into policy. Speaking of which, how’s that war in Iraq going with the Iraqi throwing flowers at our soldiers. They’re throwing something, but it’s not flowers.

Enough politics. That is supposed to be a humor blog. It’s just that whenever I want people to laugh, all I have to say is “President Bush” and universal laughter emerges.

Then there was a bit of coomical reality. to my day I was catching-up with a friend, with whom we hadn’t spoken with for several months, with news. I was telling the news of a friend who died from contamination. In the midst of my telling of this person’s passing, my friend started interrupting with rave reviews of a new restaurant, which ironically was the same location where this person died. Since humor is the brain’s processing of ironic events, my stating that this person died at the same location of the restaurant she was praising at the same moment, resulted in severaly inappropriate laughter. Since laughter was wrong for that moment, this contradiction only allowed the brain to register more irony, which created still more irony which led to even greater laughter. Eventually, this escalating laughter became just about the funniest thing ever emitted.

We can now say we literally laugh at the face of death. Because, when you think about it, death really is quite silly. One minute you’re alive, and the next, you’re plopped down in some inappropriate pose that you have no control over. Which, when you think about it, should make stand-up comedy just about the easiest job. You ask a comic “how was your performance?” and the comic responds “I died on stage” you can then add “I bet the audience was howling.”

Friday, September 07, 2007

Who is Your Fourth Favorite Monty Python?

I saw Michael Palin yesterday. His book of snippets from his diary comes out soon. I don’t keep a diary. I guess this blog was supposed to be a diary, but I never observe anything interesting. For instance, the Air Force accidentally sent nuclear bombs over America. What can one possibly say about that? I am sure Bush, when informed, immediately inquired whether the plane was flying over a Democratic state or a Republican state. I keep thinking of all the money we spend on the military, and a plane takes off from a base in Louisiana . The people on the plane are supposed to be thinking “if flying over sea, I am headed towards nations we mean to scare with our nuclear capability” and instead they are thinking “this water below us looks just like land.” Seriously, I have to ask Dick Cheney, how can expect to ever invade Iran or North Korea if we can’t find the Gulf?” (Maybe that’s what happened in Iraq. We actually meant to invade Afghanistan and we hit Iraq by mistake.) Supposedly the plane flew near the site of where the fictional TV show “Jericho” is supposed to exist, which is another wake-up call to all TV viewing Americans (who do constitute a substantial majority of the voting public, by the way): you may survive a nuclear strike, but we’ll come after you on our own.

So, sorry, no diary. I can’t find anything funny to write about. Anyway, back to Michael Palin. I asked Michael Palin to sign a copy of the book for my boss Michael. While Michael Palin was signing the book, I observed “Michael. I know, that’s one of those names you hardly ever hear.” I wonder if I’ll be allowed back.

What I liked was this little boy who was brought to meet Michael Paein. The boy was so excited, s he was signing Monty Python songs and reciting dialogue from memory and obviously was a huge fan. What I like is the boy then turned to Michael Palin, and as only little boys can, and I sure he meant this as a compliment, gushed in a loud voice “you’re my third favorite Monty Python.”

Cheer up, Michael. At least you didn’t come in fourth.

Also, in today’s news, there is a lesson all should note. After you fire someone, do not send them a cake with the message “you can’t fix stupid” on the icing. You see, that is something stupid to send, and after you’re sent it, you can’t fix it. The fired person is probably not going to see the humor in it and will probably do the only logical thing that offended Americans do: get a lawyer and sue for harassment. I now take it back, I guess there might be a way to fix something stupid after all.

The Associated Press has a stunning headline: “Rock Stars Die Younger than Ordinary Folks.” Gee, I never suspected that a life style of only having to perform on stage a few hours a year and doing drugs the rest of the time would be free of health problems. I am truly amazed.

Well, I’m off. Flying to Canada. Or Cuba. One or the other. I’ll call it “pilot’s choice.”

Sunday, September 02, 2007

How Drunk Do You Have to Be to Put a Bra into a Swiss Bank Account?

How drunk do you have to be to think this is a good idea? I saw a guy who got a tattoo—of a bra onto his body. Yeah, he’ll go through life just fine with that.

A Norwegian politician resigned because he has a Swiss bank account. Which got me wondering: where do Swiss politicians do their banking?

A guy is suing the gun buyback program because they refused to pay him for bringing in a surface to air missile. They claim that the missile is not a gun. Frankly, I am with the guy. I personally want to get as many surface to air missiles off the streets as possible.

How do we humans know that the queen bee is in fact a queen? Maybe in the bee world, the bees are all thinking: “look at that poor loser who’s forced to just give birth all day long?”

Leona Helmsley left $12 million to her dogs. What happens if the dogs don’t pay their inheritance taxes? Will the IRS put them into a kennel?

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