Troppo's Bad Day

[Zurp]

Without me, this thread would have died long before it ever started.

Looking back on his life, James realized that, to his horror, he had never been a turnip. Not only had he never been a turnip, but he didn’t really know what it even meant to BE a turnip. He often donated to his local turnip-protection agency, devoted to aiding the advancement of turnips, around the block. But he didn’t really realize the troubles that they may or may not ever have to face.

He began to make it a point to make special trips to the hospital to visit with his turnip friends, who insisted that turnips are the 21<SUP>st</SUP> century version of the 6<SUP>th</SUP> century Mexicans, and that without equal pay for equal swimming privileges, turnips would boycott every spelling bee competition this side of the County Fair. James wept in anticipation of hearing their next story of segregation, or inequality amidst the working masses. And when they got to the part where they told the REAL story of the Boston Massacre, James wished he had never thrown away that bottle-opener.

James went home, and, that night, he made up his mind that he would sell his house, his car, and every other possession he had and would work for the rest of his life to help the turnips.

He sold his car for pretty cheap, because he didn’t have a car. Nonetheless, he was looking for some dummy to whom he could sell his car, and sell his car is what he would do to some dummy. He found some dummy on the street and said, "HERE, you big Baloney!" The dummy responded, "My name is Oliver." "Oh," said James, "HERE, Oliver Baloney! Take your stupid car back!" And that’s how Oliver Baloney made his first million dollars, despite not really being named "Oliver Baloney."

His house was a little harder to sell. But, in a buyer’s market, James knew that it was only a matter of time. One day, an elderly couple was looking for a place to call for help. Their car, it seemed, had been destroyed by a pack of evil Jedi Knights, who had plagued the streets of Mount Olympus for the previous 7 minutes (and probably wouldn’t leave for another 4 minutes). The couple wanted a place to call their son, who lived only 6 minutes away, and ask him to pick them up. James told them that if they bought his house, they wouldn’t need a reason to drive home. They agreed, and kicked him in the teeth. James knew a bully when he saw one, and he knew just the way to respond to them: he kicked the old lady in the nuts and asked her if she wanted to see her husband "sleeping with the fishes." Of course, like any weirdo, he felt bad at putting that awful image in their heads, and offered them something to drink.

Once inside, Mrs. Weatherby (which is the name given to her by her husband when they got married) complimented James on the decorating. "I love the way you decorated with different types of patties. They look almost real. Beef patties, chicken patties, sausage patties." "They are real, Mrs. Weatherby," James said, "And look here," he pointed, "A poop patty." Mrs. Weatherby thought she was going to faint. She pulled out her magic wand to clean up the place, but James stopped her. "A perfect patty is made with love, not magic," James said, and pulled down Mr. Weatherby’s pants. Mr. Weatherby (which is the name given to him by his father when he was born) found that to be funny, and introduced James to something that he called a "Grape Ape." James found it to be very fun, and didn’t mind the fact that it left him bleeding and near death, and a big mess to clean up. "You got me, old man! You got me good!"

The couple finally left his house, and James was free to send emails to his friends, the turnips. It appeared that his friends, the turnips, were beginning a revolution against the American government, who constantly refused to grant them the rights of Habeas Corpus. "What’s Habeas Corpus?" James asked them. They said that they didn’t know and they didn’t care, and that they deserved the same rights as all Americans got. They marched to Washington, D.C. and insisted a stage in front of the Congress.

Because it is very difficult to actually tell when a turnip is angry, they needed to show the world that they were angry. Most of us in America can tell when other people are angry because of facial expressions, tones of voice, and body language. However, turnips ALWAYS sound angry (kind of like Germans), and they have to faces or bodies that would act or appear differently depending on the mood. Therefore, they needed someone to draw angry faces on them to show the world that they were angry.

James, not being a good artist, failed to draw the facial expressions he envisioned when he thought of "flaming marshmallows." He made one turnip look more like a sleepy puppy than an angry turnip. He made another look more like a tollbooth with tarter sauce, and a third turnip looked more like a mastodon getting rejected by an electric pencil sharpener that looked eerily like Kermit the Frog. Fortunately for James, and all his future children (for the turnips have been known to spit in people’s eyes, and who would ever date or have sex with a man who’s had a turnip spit in his eyes), the turnips were very bad at reading other people’s facial expressions. Therefore, James decided, "Hence, the turnips do not know that I made them look ridiculous." Then he laughed for a second. "I said, ‘dick’," he said.

During the turnips’ speeches in front of the Congress of the United States, James realized that he had to abandon his hopes of a society that treats turnips the same as people. "Dogs, maybe," he said, "Dogs will maybe treated as well as turnips. I wish I was a turnip." He fell asleep face down in a puddle of his own porno magazines, and dreamed some dreams that he would never remember, but would always forget.

 

[Zurp]

Once upon a time, there was a lonely baker named Todd. His friends would have called him Todd-O, if he had any friends, but, since he had no friends, they called him "The Todd-O." All his life, Todd dreamed of being a banker. But, when it came time to go to banking school, he found that he couldn’t afford it. He only had about 86% of the money that was needed for banking school. Since "Baking" is close to "Banking," and is about 86% of "Banking," he went to baking school.

He quickly found that baking was pretty easy, and he passed all his classes with the greatest of ease. He used a secret ingredient (cheese) in all his meals. Of course, when it came time to make home-made soda, he kept the cheese-use to a minimum.

Todd enjoyed baking, but he longed for the day when he might become a banker. But he stuck with his new baking job, as he whiled away the hours, baking to the sound of the men working on the chain gang. Sometimes he baked donuts, sometimes pizza, sometimes some ethnic foods that I can’t pronounce or spell or even want to taste. But Todd worked on.

One night, the owner of the baking company that hired him, Gertrude McFatlady, who was also his evil step-sister, told him that he wasn’t making the company enough money. She was going to sell him to the circus and possibly kick the clown in the nuts. She had an evil desire to kick men in the nuts soon after meeting them. She quickly got black-balled from Hollywood’s A-list, and many of them insist that she was never even invited to the parties, anyway. But, if you believe what you read in the tabloids, there’s a good chance that she was abducted by aliens.

Todd didn’t want to be sold to the circus, and he said so. Of course, he guarded his crotch as he said so, as she also had the bad habit of picking her nose and wiping her goobers on people’s crotches when she got bad news. That he didn’t want to do as she instructed was very bad news to her. She said that his decision disappointed her, but she respected it, and she would think of another plan. The next morning, however, Todd woke up in a bear costume in a cage at the circus. "CRAP!!" he tried to say, but quickly found that he wasn’t just in a bear costume, but he was also wearing a tutu. "This tutu makes me look fat," he thought.

After the three shows that day, where he had to wrestle a couple of midgets, ride a bicycle up a tight-wire, and then type "My baloney is slimy" 50 times before the rest of the cast and crew could finish singing "Happy Birthday" to Chuck, the Flaming Turkey of Death.
Todd was worn-out. He took off his bear costume and went to see a movie called, "The phone only rings twice, and then the answering machine answers." It was pretty bad, since the phone never rang, and the robots were obviously made in Finland.

On his walk home, however, (he woke up at the circus, remember?) a very attractive woman picked him up and drove him home. He showed her all the pants he ever worn, since age 3 (he left out the tutu and the mini-skirt he wore in the 11<SUP>th</SUP> grade), and she was obviously freaked-out. She gave him a false phone number, wished him luck on his banking quest, and left.

Of course, Todd, using his Jedi intellect, knew that she would give him a false phone number, and set to work dialing every other number, starting at the logical beginning, 622-2398, and working his way through the color spectrum, ending with 498-1219. Exactly half-way through his searching, he found her number, and farted into the phone. She thought it was gross, but amazed at the fact that he found her phone number. She was also amazed that the stink of the fart made it through the phone wires to her house. Then she wasn’t so amazed because she was still in the driveway pulling out when he ran out and hopped in her car before calling her.

The woman (whose name was Tilly) decided that they should go to Vegas. Anyone who can figure out her phone number that quickly should go to Vegas so that he would be too distracted to ever want to call her. She drove him to Vegas where he made a small fortune on the slot machines. Then he lost that fortune on the slot machines. Then he made a big fortune on the slot machines. Then he used that money to buy some bears who would wrestle midgets.

 

[Zurp]

Dennis woke up early one Saturday, and ran to the living room to watch his favorite Saturday morning cartoons. He turned on the television, and found a show about a boy walking on the beach. The boy picked up a seashell and held it to his ear. In the cartoon, the seashell told the boy a story. The story was as follows:

Once upon a time, there was a happy seagull named Rooper. Rooper did what most seagulls do: he hung out in a parking lot expecting it to turn into the ocean. Of course, in all of Rooper’s years, the parking lot never turned into the ocean, but that never dissuaded him. "One day, Rooper," his father said to him, "One day." Rooper never understood what his father was talking about, because those five words were usually followed with a story about when he saw a baby who looked like the pope had married three of the four members of Kiss.

Rooper enjoyed sitting on the cold asphalt parking lot in the winter, and on the hot asphalt parking lot in the summer. It gave him time to think about what he would do if the parking lot turned into an ocean. The first thing he would do (after he cooked himself a grilled-cheese sandwich, of course), he decided, was to get some bungee chords and try to see if he could swim with his wings tied together. He figured that he probably could, since he could flap his eyelids pretty quickly, and everyone knew that he had gas like a tug boat. (He even won contests with some of his high school teachers where he was expected to count to 234 by 13’s).

So, with a suction cup fastened securely to his forehead, he told his parents that he would see them later, and he left for the big city.

There, he found out that there were many other kinds of worthless winged creatures. Then, he found out that there was really only one other kind of worthless winged creature: the asparagus goose. He made friends with a couple of lesbian seagulls who had previously lived with a troop of pigeons, and he was ready to find himself a job pooping on cars.

One pigeon hired him, but then he found out that that pigeon wasn’t catholic, and if there’s one thing that his mother always taught him, it’s that if you take a bite from a sandwich, you have to be prepared to finish the whole thing, because wasting food is about as smart as pooping on an electric fan and then throwing the fan off a high-rise building. Rooper found another job as a newspaper salesman. Of course, pigeons and seagulls and other birds don’t read the same newspapers as people. They read the New York Post and the Cleveland Plain Dealer. "Hmm," said Rooper one morning as he read the paper, "I think that vanilla ice cream is pretty good."

After only 13 days in the city (which felt like 14 days, to a seagull), Rooper was on the fast track to being a rich seagull. He already had owned the newspaper printer, and he could count up to 7. His friends were amazed that his gas had subsided, with only a few disgusting outbursts. "The defense rests, Your Honor," he mentioned to his girlfriend, Merrooma.

‘Round and ‘round the two went, trying to find the end of the rainbow, but neither could find it. As soon as they found the off-ramp, the on-ramp was right after it. They flew and flew until they could only think about flying some more. Until one day, they found the ocean. But they decided to sleep in the parking lot, anyway.

2-9-06

 

[Zurp]

"If I were a rock star," Uncle Karl used to say, "I’d murder the whole lot o’ you!!" We’d all laugh and say, "That’s Uncle Karl for you. He thinks he’s Irish." He’d go away to sulk, usually with some leftover pizza, or a can of monster sauce. He’d been saying that for so long, and he was such a fat guy, that none of us really believed any of it; not even when he actually became a rock star.

He’d been practicing playing the clarinet for about 3 months, when he realized that you can’t become a rock star playing the clarinet. He threw the clarinet down and chased a squirrel out of his yard. "I SEE DEAD PEOPLE!" he yelled at the squirrel, who, most likely, didn’t see any dead people, even from the top of the tree where he hid.

For the next 5-10 years, Uncle Karl was mostly a waste of space. I say "mostly" because every now and then he’d get up from the couch and get his own bag of potato chips, but usually he’d make the mail man or Al Gore get his chips for him. He even kept Bob Barker to change the channels for him when the batteries fell out of the remote control.

One day, when Uncle Karl was watching re-runs of "Taxi," he had the idea that someone should make an animated version of another Bill and Ted movie. He decided that the next movie should be "Bill and Ted Can’t Find Their Car," and it would be animated to save money on toilet paper. I’m not much into the movie industry, so I don’t understand the economics of that theory, but I do know that Uncle Karl was kicked out of every movie studio he entered. (He only entered one movie studio, and it was to deliver a pizza when he was in high school. It was in the basement of some guy’s house, where they were filming a porno movie. Uncle Karl punched the home owner in the mouth and wanted to spoon-feed the pizza to one of the actresses. He was successfully fired the next day, and his plans of a hostile take-over of Enron were terminated within a week.)

Uncle Karl was at the lowest point of his life. He was alone, living on the street (he was locked out of his house, and forgot his spare key was under the rock in the garden), he was pantsless (when he packed, he forgot that he crammed the pants at the bottom of his bag, and couldn’t find them when he got dressed), and he was thirsty. Most anyone would go find a way to get something to drink, but he decided to go to the zoo.

At the zoo, there was an annoying mime, who was the zoo director during the winter months. (The summer director used embezzled-money to vacation in Cancun in the winter.) The mime told him to meet him near the zombie cage in one hour. Uncle Karl went to the zombie cage and looked for the mime, but there was just an even more annoying guy with a white-painted face. Uncle Karl tried to buy some drugs from him, but the mime told him to find his soul-mate. "Screw that!" Uncle Karl said, and he picked up some drum-sticks and started beating the mime with them. A large group of the zombies took the opportunity to re-enact their favorite music video (Thriller) and they started dancing to Uncle Karl’s rhythm. And, like that, Uncle Karl started the band "Uncle Karl and the Dancing Zombies." Perhaps you’ve never heard of them? They’ve outsold all other zombie bands since 1700. (which, of course, includes the great bands, "Mr. Fling-Flong and the Zombettes," "Zombie Stomp-Stump," and "The Police.")

We were all very proud of our dear Uncle Karl, until, one day, Cousin Poot-Spit was mysteriously killed. The CSI’s (amazingly enough, Gil Grissom was NOT one of them) found no useful evidence, except a note which read, "I’ve told you all along I was going to do this, JURKS!!!" Only one person would spell "jerks" with a "J," and that was me. I became a prime suspect, until I bitch-slapped the police chief, and told him to find his mother and bitch-slap her.

The rest of us hid in abandoned mine, where we knew that Uncle Karl could be hiding and waiting for his opportunity to destroy us all. But it was a trap for him. It wasn’t really us hiding in the mine. It was Uncle Karl, and the trap worked. He jumped out of his hiding spot, and surprised himself. Within seconds, he died when the evil King of the Landsharks ate him. And we all lived happily ever after, until we had to go back to work on Monday.

 

[Popper252]

Haha I miss these.

 

[coastalbuck]

Why?

 

[Zurp]

Why?

Never ask "why?" Only ask "who?"

Charlie was a simple man, born approximately 24 years before his 24th
birthday. Unfortunately for his mother, that was about 10 minutes too
soon, and she punished him by naming him Charlie. Personally, I would
have brought the smack down on the jerk, by naming him something far
funnier. ("Excommunicated Sum'Bitch" has a nice ring to it.)

Charlie made a living selling donuts and heat-shrink tubes to people
as they left the grocery store. He got the feeling that they didn't
really want the heat-shrink tubes, but once they handed over the
money, he didn't feel sorry for them. Afterall, he didn't want them,
either.

You may be asking yourself what a donut is. Well, it's kind of like a
heat-shrink tube, except it's shorter, thicker, squishier, and edible.
Unless they're three days old, and then they're still slightly edible
for another day or two. Then, just change the label to "Bagels," and
all the health-nazis will eat them like they're God's gift to
kick-boxers.

But Charlie wasn't always a crappy salesman. He was once a rock star.
Maybe not so much a star nation-wide, but, in the hole-in-the-wall
clubs of Eugene, Washington, he was a local celebrity. People would
come from many, many feet away to watch him play with his band,
"Charlie and Friends" (they were always trying to think of a better
name for their band). One evening, they almost filled the club with a
dozen people. They later found out that five of those people had been
in a carpool driving home from work when the car broke down, and they
were just trying to stay warm while they waited for a taxi. But they
paid their cover charge, the same as everyone else. And the one
red-headed chick seemed to be interested in the lyrics.

One day, their big break walked through the door. Mr. Steven
McGregory Killtomlinsonington, the most famousest hobbit to ever
successfully leave the Shire (Bilbo's and Frodo's tales have each been
modified for Hollywood - don't believe anything that you see in
movies) walked through the door, and ordered some beers for himself.
Because he ordered beers (plural), everyone expected to see Mr.
Killtomlinsonington's manager, Bill Shemler, walk through the door.
Bill Shemler, as we all know, is responsible for finding many of
today's big musical groups, such as Steven Bon Jovi, Richard Van
Halen, Greyson Abdul, and the three kids in the Jackson family who no
one knows about. Charlie got his band on the stage (they had been
playing round 5 of 719 of "Who can catch a bar-stool in his teeth?")
and they started playing "Girls with a Dead Battery." The song wasn't
how they typically opened their set, but, DAMMIT! Bill Shemler was
going to be there.

By the end of the first song, the hobbit was busy on his phone. Maybe
he was trying to figure out where Mr. Shemler was, and when he'd get
there? Charlie wasted no time in kicking his game-tying goal, and
whipping out a pink highlighter. When the rest of the band saw him
highlight their normal encore, "I've got no more broken glass in my
hair," they gasped with awe. And disgust. And a little with dread.
But, surprising, no gasping was done with pain or torture. (But,
afterward, George W Bush was still blamed for stuff.)

They played their encore, and the hobbit got up from his barstool, and
left. The band, except for Charlie, wanted to go finish their game.
But Charlie was 8% hopeful that Mr. Shemler was still going to show
up, and 11% sure that his hobbit would tell him to stay away from
Eugene, Washington. The last 81% was the small percentage of his body
that didn't vote, because they didn't think that their votes would
matter.

Charlie decided to go back to being a plumber, until he remembered
that he didn't know anything about plumbing. But he did know about
being a jerk.

The end.

 

[Zurp]

"I killed a bunch of people once."

Charlie, the lovable hero from our last adventure, was regretting
saying those words to the mailman. Little did Charlie realize, the
mailman was actually a prostitute, who was actually a baker. The
baker was friends with a real baker, and that baker was a detective on
television. Being a fake detective, he aspired to appear authentic.
Therefore, he arrested Charlie, despite having no proof of a crime.
The real police arrested them both. They charged Charlie with killing
a bunch of people once, and the fake detective with impersonating a
fake police officer.

Charlie, sitting in his jail cell, waiting for his trial, regretted
saying those words. He regretting saying them even more than he
regretted actually killing the people. He didn't really regret
killing them, though, because they were all old people who had passed
their usefulness.

Charlie belonged to a religion that believed that the human race was
created by a higher power. That higher power was not any kind of
omnipresent deity, but an alien race of people from another solar
system. Those people, the Snellnars, were previously ruled by an evil
dictator, name Hank. Hank forced them to perform all kinds of
demeaning work, such as cleaning toilets and picking vegetables. If
they didn't do some sort of work, they wouldn't get any money, and
they'd be forced to accept wellfare checks from the evil government.

One day, according to Charlie's secret religion, the people of
Snellnar revolted against Hank and his corporate fat-cat buddies.
They overthrew his administration, and created a system where no one
has to work, and everyone gets all the social programs from government
that had ever been conceived, either by logical Snellnars or by insane
jerk-stores.

As could be guessed, the people of Snellnar lived peacefully for
infinity years, without ever having to work. And they never had any
more wars, and they certainly didn't have any kind of global warming
to worry about, any "Big Tobacco" lawsuits, or any George Bushes to
haunt their nightmares.

But then, one day, a couple of days after the revolution, a guy named
Dirty Dan started pushing old ladies into mailboxes. Mailboxes on
Snellnar are much larger than they are on earth, and little old ladies
are much smaller than they are on earth, so it took several days for
all the little old ladies to start complaining about being stuck in
the mailboxes. And, even then, some of them longed to return to the
spacious mailboxes years after they were rescued.

A town meeting was called in the capitol city, Jittjumnongk, to
discuss Dirty Dan's punishment. Some thought he should get a good
talking-to. Afterall, those people thought, the planet had evolved in
the past few days past punishing the guilty. Instead, they should
help him understand the reason why pushing old ladies in mailboxes
would be wrong. Others thought that Dirty Dan should be destroyed by
a million tiny nuclear explosions surrounding his body, incinerating
him down to his soul. Those people thought that discipline was the
very heart of the evils in everybody.

While they were arguing, Dirty Dan stole the planet's only spaceship.
He escaped into space, where he was pursued by a dozen or so of the
other only spaceships that the planet had. With blasters afire, they
shot Dirty Dan down, and he was forced to crash-land on another
planet, TrewGoop.

TrewGoop was uninhabited, but well-explored. The chasing Snellnars
quickly found and re-captured Dirty Dan. But what they didn't realize
was that Dirty Dan was killed in the crash, and they captured the rare
mimic-dragon, who could change his shape into anything he just ate.

As I'm sure you've figured out, the dragon had just eaten a mushroom
that looked like Dirty Dan. The Snellnars had captured the dragon,
and he was put to trial. Just as the judge was going to sentence
Dirty Dan (the dragon) to death, the dragon ate the judge. The
dragon, who looked like the judge, sentenced everyone else to death.
Of course, the local police started shooting anyone they could find.
It would be much easier to blast everyone while they ran around in
panic than it would be to put them in jail and force them to perform
nude pyramids and laugh at them. The police blasted anything that
moved, and the few Snellnars who could escape, did.

Many found more spaceships, but most were blasted and destroyed. But
one ship of 7 Snellnars escaped. They flew from one end of the galaxy
and back for many trillions of minutes. Finally, the caved in and
asked for directions.

When they found the earth, it was still unlivable. They quickly
exterminated all of the dinosaurs who had been terrorizing their
mating rituals, and they were set to live the rest of their lives,
raising an entire civilization of Snellnars. But then, one day, an
asteroid the size of Italy destroyed them, and their fishing poles.

A couple of million years later, the Snellnar bounty-hunters who were
set to capture the escapees had found the earth. They decided that
since the small band had been destroyed, already, they didn't need to
do anymore work, and they followed out their orders to kill all
surviving Snellnars, and killed themselves.

Unbeknownst to the bounty-hunters, one of them was about to die,
anyway. He had been infected by a deadly virus called "Mr. Big-Poo."
Of course, introducing a virus to an environment that has never seen
that virus can be very bad. However, in this case, it was very good.
The virus ended up taking over the entire earth, and mutated slowly.
As native earth-born creatures evolved, so did the alien virus. One
day, hundreds of millions of years later, the primitive humans, with
sticks, stones, clubs, and kilts at the ready, went to war with the
viruses.

The viruses had grown in size from microscopic to the size of a
basketball. (Remember, though, that thousands of years ago,
basketballs were about the size of a golf ball, today.) The humans
threw all of the viruses in the oceans, and there they sunk to the
bottom. As the viruses needed to eat the flesh of zombies, and
zombies needed to eat human flesh, the viruses could not survive under
water.

The theory that Charlie's secret religion believed is that a zombie by
the name of Jim Charleston went swimming one night in 1791, and turned
a bunch of lobsters into zombie lobsters, using a special technique
known as "lobster-bite." The viruses, that had been dormant all that
time, awoke to find enough zombie lobsters to survive until the early
21st century. They've been building their population and the
civilization back up in secret off the coast of Texas, near Houston.

Obviously, when they run out of zombie lobsters, the viruses are going
to resurface, and take over the world. The first to be attacked will
be the ones that are closest to becoming zombies: the elderly.
Therefore, according to Charlie's religion, the elderly must be
disintigrated.

Charlie, and the two other members of his religion, went out to
destroy old people. Unfortunately for them, one decided that it was a
stupid religion, and went to become a scientologist. The other got on
the wrong bus, ended up in the bad part of town, got mugged, and then
succumbed to peer pressure and went streaking through a
nationally-televised football game and got arrested.

Charlie knew where there were a lot of old people: the cemetery. He
blew up a couple of M-80's (which were as illegal as his wimpy-ass was
willing to go), and he set them off in the cemetery.

Of course, those people were already dead, and nothing was damaged
badly. The police were called on some kind of loud-noise situation,
but that was all that had ever come from it.

So Charlie, who believed that he had saved the world, was confident
that he would be set free, and congratulated with a parade. And then,
maybe, he could muster up the courage to go to the bank and talk to
the cute girl there, instead of the ugly one.

However, when the court heard his story, they told him to go home and
never talk to any children, for fear that he might give one of them
some glue or some white-out.

Charlie, of course, recognized a world-wide conspiracy when he saw one.

 

[JoJaBuckeye]

m-u-s-t

n-o-t

d-i-n-g

 

[Zurp]

Jimmy liked to eat animal crackers. He knew that they all tasted the same, but he liked the ones that looked like lions the best. Not so much because he liked lions, but more because he feared lions. Before he was even born, his father was eaten by a lion. Jimmy vowed at an early age that he would get revenge on that lion.

At the age of 8, Jimmy decided that he should begin his lion-hunting training. He practiced sneaking up on stuff. However, he never got any feedback from inanimate objects, and the family cat didn't seem to care when Jimmy woke her up. The only person left for him to sneak up on was his mother.

Jimmy's mother hated when he snuck up on her. She got so fed up, she finally bought him a football and told him to go play outside.

Of course, he didn't try sneaking up on the football. But then something very unexpected happened to him: the football snuck up on him. Except that by the time it reached him, it turned into a rock. And, even more unexpectedly, the football had turned back into a football by the time Jimmy found it right where he left it: inside.

This happened every day for a month. Finally, however, Jimmy realized that the bully down the street was throwing rocks at him. Jimmy found it very distracting to practice his lion-hunting techniques while he was getting pelted with rocks. He'd have to deal with his bully problem, first.

He decided he had to do this job just like any good vigilante he'd seen on TV: alone. However, he'd need some big, fat guy to act as his boss. He'd need someone to yell at him and try to get him to stop drawing so much attention to himself, and to "take it easy." For that job, he first looked to his trusty football. However, since that was a rock, he found the kid who lived across the street.

Ray was a fat kid who stayed indoors most of the time. Some people think he got fat by staying inside and watching TV. Others say that he stayed inside to watch TV because he's so fat. Still, others say that the earth is flat. Whatever floats your boat, dude. Anyway, he was excited to hear that Jimmy was going to give the bully his what-for. That bully (by the way, the bully's name was Ed) had been picking on Ray more than his fair share ? or so Ray believed. The truth is that every kid believed two things when it came to bullies: first, that he was picked on more than his fair share; and second, that fat kids like Ray needed to be picked on more.

So Jimmy described his plan to Ray. Ray went from being excited to disappointed. Then he became hungry. After Ray ate his snack (which further disappointed him), Jimmy was able to prove that he might be able to beat Ed. And they agreed that pumpkin pie would make a lousy breakfast.

Ray took his role very seriously. He scheduled several meetings with Jimmy to learn his strategy, and to convince him to "take it easy." Jimmy quickly got annoyed with Ray, and Ray took that as a sign that he was doing his job properly. But Jimmy was REALLY annoyed, and he began skipping meetings to get his work done.

Of course, as I'm sure you can see, Jimmy succeeded in defeating Ed. It took all of his physical skills and most of his mental skills (and even one of his peeing skills), but Ed agreed to unconditional surrender.

All was well in the neighborhood, until Ray came to visit Jimmy. Ray was pretty pissed at Jimmy for missing the last 3 weeks of meetings. Apparently, Ray was still playing his role, and had found Jimmy some more work. Jimmy, however, was still training his lion-hunting skills.

Ray convinced him to take another job. Otherwise, Ray would bitch-slap him. It was supposed to be an easy gig: exterminating a band of rogue rabbits. The band, of course, considered themselves the "Rabid Rabbits." But since you can't really create your own nickname, no one cared.

Apparently, the rabbits were creating havoc with the farmer, Farmer Hank. He'd heard of Jimmy's defeat of the neighborhood bully (who had also bullied Farmer Hank, from time to time), and wanted someone to get rid of his rabbits.

Jimmy thought that it would be awesome practice for his lion-hunting skills. He took the job, and went to Farmer Hank's farm.

There, he found an entire herd of rabbits. Normally, rabbits aren't found in herds. But, in this case, Jimmy couldn't think of another name. He began picking the rabbits up and sticking their feet in buckets of wet cement. He figured the rabbits would be sleeping with the fishes, soon, and the surviving rabbits would be too afraid to stay there.

He only had two buckets, so only two rabbits were to sleep with any fishes. And, since there was no water deep enough that time of year, and no fishes, anyway, he left the rabbits sitting there, stuck to the buckets. Jimmy returned the next day to find that the rabbits had escaped.

His next plan was to plant a horse's head in each of their beds. But, he couldn't find any horses. Therefore, he just put a stick of butter in each of their beds. He returned the next day to find some fat rabbits.

Finally, he got mad at a rabbit and asked him to leave Farmer Hank's farm. The rabbit quickly jumped up, grabbed Jimmy by the ear, and yanked him underground.

They weaved through tunnel after tunnel. Jimmy half-expected to see some alien hive-queen, eventually. But they never did. Instead, they came upon the king rabbit, who looked eerily like John Candy. The king rabbit went into some big tirade about how the white man came and stole their land. Jimmy wanted to punch the rabbit's ears off. He may have been 8, but he was already tired of hippies.

Finally, the king rabbit rose from his throne, and looked down at Jimmy. Jimmy realized that the king rabbit was pretty flippin' tall. But then he realized that he was lying on the floor, face down. He stood up and saw that the king rabbit was just regular rabbit-size. Regardless, the rabbit told him about what really happened to his father: he was meddling with the rabbits, and was thrown out of an airplane. He wasn't eaten by a lion, afterall.

Jimmy's aims of revenge quickly left lions, and were focused on the king. He grabbed the king by the ears, and ran back up the rabbit hole. He was quickly chased by infinity of the king's rabbit subjects. Rabbits are much faster than people are, especially people carrying rabbit kings. And, to make matters worse, the light at the end of the tunnel was become more narrow: the rabbits were closing the entrance!

Jimmy thought later on that it was weird that the rabbits could close the rabbit hole. But whatever.

Jimmy leapt through the rabbit hole just in time. The hole closed behind him, and the chasing rabbits hit the closed rabbit hole with a torrent of exploding explosions.

Jimmy kept the king in a cage in his bedroom, and named him Buddy. Sometimes he gave Buddy a pickle to eat. Buddy didn't like pickles.

 

[Zurp]

I thought about starting a new thread for this, as it's not the typical "Troppo's Bad Day" post. However, it has the potential to make people angry for not understanding anything. So, for those of you who don't care about this thread, you don't have to click on it. So there!

Anyway, my wife emailed me this yesterday:

"i like vending machines, because snacks are better when they fall. if i buy a candy bar at the store oftentimes i will drop it, so that it achieves its maximum flavor potential."

I didn't get it. I guess she read it somewhere. Or heard it. She thought it was funny. So it got me thinking. I wonder if taste and potential energy are related, the way that potential energy and kinetic energy are. (For example, an object held at a certain height has a certain potential energy, but no kinetic energy. But when you drop it, it loses potential energy as it gains kinetic energy.) I wonder if the same is true for taste? As it loses
potential energy, does the taste increase? If so, taste and kinetic
energy would be directly related.

To test this theory, we would need 2 things: first, a way to measure
taste. And second, a tall building.

We'll get some jerk to stand on the sidewalk, and we'll drop food on
him from different heights.

At first, I wanted to just put some food in a pitching machine that you can change the speed, but I remembered that kinetic energy isn't related to the speed of an object, but to the downward velocity of it. Randomly launching food at people walking by on the street might be fun, but it would be difficult to measure the overall downward velocity.

 

[MolGenBuckeye]

I would propose flinging said jerk off the building holding the food, where he could eat it on the way to the ground, giving a quick tastiness report before his demise. Otherwise, you run the risk of tasty energy being lost as sound when the food smacks said jerk in the face.

 

[FCollinsBuckeye]

Anyway, my wife emailed me this yesterday:


Quote:
"i like vending machines, because snacks are better when they fall. if i buy a candy bar at the store oftentimes i will drop it, so that it achieves its maximum flavor potential."

Glad to see you've found your soulmate, Zurp.



As far as your hypothesis goes, perhaps snacks taste batter after the fall because the flavor molucules have been rousted after hitting the bin at the bottom of the vending machine. So, is was the impact due to the fall rather that the simply the expenditure of potential energy that enhances the flavor.

 

[Fungo Squiggly]

Glad to see you've found your soulmate, Zurp.



As far as your hypothesis goes, perhaps snacks taste batter after the fall because the flavor molucules have been rousted after hitting the bin at the bottom of the vending machine. So, is was the impact due to the fall rather that the simply the expenditure of potential energy that enhances the flavor.

So you have to smack your candy around before you can eat it? Kinky!

 

[Zurp]

As we all know, Troppo grew up in a small town on the outskirts of another small town. His father, who owned a small apple orchard, dreamed of joining the circus so he could leave the hell-hole that was his life. But Troppo, who was much bigger than his father, even at the young age of 6, told his father to stop being such a wuss, or he'd kick his ass.

Despite Troppo's threats, his father (we better give him a name ? let's call him Frampon) moved away to a deserted island when Troppo was only 13 years old. Not being a wuss, Troppo took over the family business.

He quickly found that being an apple-farmer wasn't as easy as it appeared. It wasn't just sitting around on your ass 11 months of the year, and then picking apples like crazy that last month. It was also playing video games and smoking cigars those 11 months. Troppo decided that he should get another job.

Earlier that summer, the mayor of his town, Mr. Humphrey, had quit and moved to a deserted island. Mr. Humphrey lived all the way on the other side of town, which was 300 yards away. Troppo, who was bored with his apples, decided that he should run for Mayor. Of course, what's the story without a little suspense? His best friend, Gilbert, ran against him in the election.

The two vowed to stay best friends, but that ended in a hurry when Troppo found out that Gilbert was bugging his mom's house, in hopes to find some dirt on Troppo. The two exchanged negative campaign ads as if they were a couple of wedding singers trying to get a $150 gig in a wedding reception in a barn in South Carolina. The insults flew back and forth at each of their weekly debates, until their mothers put them each in "time out."

Finally, Gilbert challenged Troppo to a keg-toss contest. Since there have never been concrete rules to a keg-toss contest (it's just something fun to do after you've finished the keg), they wrote down the rules. Because this isn't some crappy movie from the '80's, neither the rules, nor the actual contest is important. All we need to know is that Troppo won the contest 8-7. Gilbert, not wanting to live in a town where he was known as the loser, moved away to a deserted island.

After a month as mayor, Troppo decided he was liking his job. He had approximately 4 people under his leadership, and only 2 of them lived in his house. However, one day, he caught some poison ivy. He couldn't figure out where he got it, as he had been inside all day. Just when he went to go slap his secretary / sister, a medieval wizard grabbed him by his arm.

"I am the evil wizard of ugliness," the wizard said.

Troppo turned and walked away. "He's not MY wizard," Troppo said, feeling confident that he wasn't ugly.

But that wasn't the last time Troppo saw the wizard. He saw him when he came back to his office, when he was done looking for his secretary / sister. (He didn't actually slap her, as he realized that he's the good-guy in the story.)

"I am the evil wizard of ugliness," said the wizard, "and I WAS going to grant you three wishes, because I was going to turn to the good side. But, your rudeness has angered me. I banish you to a deserted island somewhere!"

"Weird," thought Troppo, "usually, people get banished to more specific places. 'Somewhere' isn't very specific."

But then he was gone. He opened his eyes to find himself on a deserted island somewhere. But it wasn't deserted, for there were two other people on the island. One was a guy dressed in stereotypical medieval jester's garb. The other was dressed like a train robber you see in those silent movies from the 1580's.

The two turned and saw Troppo, but they didn't do much to acknowledge him. Troppo, being a typical teenager, whined about his situation. To get him to shut up, they explained their history: they were each in their respective scenarios, when the evil wizard of ugliness banished them here. Neither had been on the island for more than 5 minutes, but already the train robber had lost any hope of escape.

But not the jester. "There must be some kinda way out of here," said the joker to the thief. He came from a place where being a jester was about the best lifestyle that he could hope for, but he had educated himself, and thought that one day he might marry the princess. Or, at the very least, he might take over the known world.

The train robber, on the other hand, had lived a very dismal life. It was complete with not every having anything he wanted, because he always wanted more than what he had. But he always felt bad for stealing money from innocent people, and he felt that the deserted island was fitting for his punishment.

Troppo, who didn't like deserted islands, thought it would be nicer if he was stuck in a locker room full of naked women. The others liked that idea, and voted Troppo their new mayor.

Before long, another person joined them on their island. Just as they had, he popped in from no where. This new man was an Eskimo, and he was very hot on that tropical island. They told him to take off his coat. But, as it turned out, Eskimos don't wear anything under their coats, so they asked him to put his coat back on.

More people started zurping into existence on their island. A mailman from the year 2051, a fisherman from ancient China, and a Neanderthal were the next three to join them. They figured that they better get out of their soon, before they run out of space on the island.

Then Troppo, who dearly wished to be back in his locker room full of naked women, quickly made some waffles, and shared them with all of his new underlings. Afterall, you can't motivate your people if they haven't had their waffles, yet.

"Men," he started, "Today, you are just a bunch of weirdos from all over the world, from many different time periods. And the same will be true tomorrow. However, the difference between today and tomorrow is that tomorrow, we won't have anywhere to stand on our island. Let's get off this island!"

The men all cheered, and started their preparations. Troppo, who was satisfied that he motivated his troops, was very much unsatisfied that he hadn't figured out a way to get them off the island. Luckily, he began thinking of his locker room full of naked women, and he got an idea.

"First, Mailman, you open all your envelopes and magazine subscriptions," Troppo said, "Let me know if any have pictures of naked women."

He then got the Eskimo and the Chinese fisherman to herd up some fish. He then asked the Neanderthal to punch himself in the mouth. The Neanderthal didn't understand or comply. So he asked him to punch the mailman. It was mighty funny.

The joker and the thief got to work building a small boat. Using the fish caught by the Eskimo and the Chinese dude, they all created a strange chariot, driven by the fish. Of course, the Neanderthal dude needed to sit in the front, because fish aren't very disciplined, and if they started acting up, the Neanderthal's job was to whack them on the head. (For those of you in PETA, let's pretend that he didn't have the need to whack any of them on the head.)

For 50 days and 36 nights, they drove those fish into the sunset. When they reached the sunset, they turned left, and headed home.