video.yahoo.com/watch/2621351/7713805

No more poo clean-up... no more walking... But seriously, does this guy have a job?

Just in case you didn'​t have other​ plans​.​.​.​

ps. and even after​ havin​g watch​ed this,​ I still​ REALL​Y don'​t want to know what hole he's gonna​ poke her throu​gh.​.​.​ some thing​s are more speci​al when they are secre​t.​.​.​ secre​ts I reall​y don'​t want to know about​.​.​.​

www.adultswim.com/video/

wow.

www.adultswim.com/video/

Come check it out... live it... love it!

May 23-26th.

www.lightninginabottle.org

Here's the line-up, chickadees!

He he...

Shin Wars: Episode IV: A Poo Hope- A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, Darth Bader has kidnapped Princess Labia, only in this version she's not hot! Now it's up to Any-Wan Canblowme and young Puke Skypooper to save the princess, and first they'll need a ship... But it's been towed! Your light rod is weak and flaccid, old man.

Darth Vader: "Look, you know that in the third episode I killed a young, hot, pregnant Natalie Portman, so obviously I mean business!!"

www.adultswim.com/video/

Sometimes it just needs to be done. Dammit, watch this link... you WILL smile. Even better, watch it three times in a row and sing along with it. I challenge you to NOT be happy!

BTW I am open to doing karaoke with y'all anytime. I am working on a Brak costume for myself.

: )

ps. just click on this damn link... I am singing with you... I promise... unless i am eating nachos... I don't sing AND eat nachos at the same time... don't question my logic... I just don't swing that way.

www.adultswim.com/video/

wow.



http://www. youtube. com/watch?v=dAfaM_CBvP8

Our minds are amazing... and perhaps incomprehensible.

So...

I live right off of Hollywood blvd in Hollywood now... and there are three, yes, THREE Scientology centers right next to me, with people handing out flyers trying to get poor saps to enter and take their personality and IQ tests.

So...

Um, well, what else was I to do on a sunday whilst walking around oogling the tourists?

They have me take this personality test which had some of the most convoluted questions ever, i.e.,
"Do you sometimes never feel the desire to attempt to escape from problems that you felt arose from issues that were not unlike your own?"

The multiple choice answers were "mostly/often", "somewhat", "sometimes/not so often"

WTF?!!!

The they coerced me into taking an IQ test. Some of the questions were the most rudimentary, elementary school types of nonsense, but others were actually rather advanced formal logic questions. From the coursework I did on intelligence testing during my undergraduate degree with one of the most famous researchers of this topic, Ulrich Neisser, I have a certain amount of knowledge on this subject... but I really had a hard time figuring out what these guys were trying to glean from my answers.

It came down to: am I feeling unsure/insecure about my life... and... do I have money.

After these tests I wanted to leave to take some important personal calls that I missed, but they pushed me to stay and meet with multiple counsellors, who kept trying to get personal information out of me. To be honest, I usually share all of my private, crazy stories with anyone I meet, but I really felt pressure in this situation which caused a certain amount of discomfort. A lot of the personality results (as they were explained by my "auditor" made sense... but some did NOT, and when I stated this in a polite way, I was told that my stubborn side was the cause of my arguing with their interpretation.

WTF?!

Hm.

I actually had to grab my stuff and run out of there... these two people Shawn and Amanda that worked there really were pressuring me and, well, as most of you who know me can attest to, I am not so easily pressured.

I love sci-fi. I love Ron L. Hubbard.

But these guys are whack. Wiggity-whack.

For anyone who didn't see David Letterman's take on this: (And it's a true story...) On a recent weekend in Atlantic City , a woman won a bucketful of quarters at a slot machine. She took a break from the slots for dinner with her husband in the hotel dining room. But first she wanted to stash the quarters in her room. 'I'll be right back and we'll go to eat,' she told her husband and carried the coin-laden bucket to the elevator.

As she was about to walk into the elevator she noticed two men already aboard. Both were black. One of them was tall...very tall...an intimidatin! g figure. The woman froze. Her first thought was: 'These two are going to rob me.' Her next thought was: 'Don't be a bigot; they look like perfectly nice gentlemen.' But racial stereotypes are powerful, and fear immobilized her. She stood and stared at the two men. She felt anxious, flustered and ashamed. She hoped they didn't read her mind but gosh, they had to know what she was thinking!!!

Her hesitation about joining them in the elevator was all too obvious now. Her face was flushed. She couldn't just stand there, so with a mighty effort of will she picked up one foot and stepped forward and followed with the other foot and was on the elevator. Avoiding eye contact, she turned around stiffly and faced the elevator doors as they closed. A second passed, and then another second, and then another. Her fear increased! The elevator didn't move. Panic consumed her. 'My God,' she thought, I'm trapped and about to be robbed! 'Her heart plummeted. Perspiration poured from every! pore.

Then one of the men said, 'Hit the floor.' Instinct told her to do what they told her. The bucket of quarters flew upwards as she threw out her arms and collapsed on the elevator floor. A shower of coins rained down on her. Take my money and spare me, she prayed. More seconds passed. She heard one of the men say politely, 'Ma'am, if you'll just tell us what
floor you're going to, we'll push the button.' The one who said it had a little trouble getting the words out. He was trying mightily to hold in a belly laugh. The woman lifted her head and looked up at the two men. They reached down to help her up. Confused, she struggled to her feet. 'When I told my friend here to hit the floor,' said the average sized one, 'I meant
that he should hit the elevator button for our floor. I didn't mean for you to hit the floor, ma'am.' He spoke genially. He bit his lip. It was obvious he was having a hard time not laughing. The woman thought: 'My God, what a spectacle I've made of myself.' She was too humiliated to speak. She wanted to blurt out an apology, but words failed her. How do you apologize to two perfectly respectable gentlemen for behaving as though they were going to rob you? She didn't know what to say. The three of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled her bucket. When the elevator arrived at her floor they then insisted on walking her to her room. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and they were afraid she might not make it down the corridor. At her door they bid her a good evening. As she slipped into her room she could hear them roaring with laughter as they walked back to the elevator. The woman brushed herself off. She pulled herself together and went downstairs for dinner with her husband.

The next morning flowers were delivered to her room - a dozen roses. Attached to EACH rose was a crisp one hundred dollar bill.

The card said: 'Thanks for the best laugh we've had in years.'

It was signed;
Eddie Murphy!
Michael Jordan

- a true story