Stripper-in-Training

No, it's not me. I don't know that anyone would want to see that. It's Logan. It all started with me taking his shirt when he would be changing into his pajamas and whipping it across the room, a funny little something while putting a three-year-old to bed. Then it evolved into him wanting to take the shirt and whip it across the room.

I don't know what resources he's been drawing on, but now his technique has evolved. Now, he'll spin the shirt around before tossing it away. His technique it a little off though. He'll spin the shirt around for two whole minutes if I let him. That just won't do.

This is certainly not the profession I would have chosen for him, but if I he has his little mind set on being a stripper, well it's my fatherly duty to help him be the best damn stripper he can be. Therefore, I've got to try and improve the technique. Now, I've never partaken of the stripperly arts, but I've got to think that if you stand there and swing your shirt around for two whole minutes, you're going to lose people's interest. He's got to just swing the shirt around a handful of times and toss it, not whip it across the room. It probably wouldn't hurt if he had a few pelvic thrusts in there too.

We're starting early, and so I'm confident that with a little training, he can come onto the scene when he is of age as the best damn male stripper in the world.

A Brief Note On Life

For the past couple of months, life has felt like a constant Tilt-A-Whirl in full force spin. I'm ready to throw up and get off the ride.

BTW, I understand that this condition is in no way exclusive to me, I just needed to say it.

Monday Monotany Meltdown: The Greatest Super Power That Never Was

For an explanation of the Monday Monotany Meltdown, click here. And now, on with the show...

The Greatest Super Power That Never Was

The greatest super power that never was is the power to blink truly annoying people into an alternate dimension. In this alternate universe, these people would sit in a kind of purgatory, trapped with other truly annoying individuals. The hero would have to make periodic visits to this other place to determine which of the inhabitants have changed their ways so that they may return to the true world.

Of course, a hero of this nature would have to be totally just and righteous and good to determine fairly and accurately who would need to go to that dimension. That person wouldn't ever really exist. And that is why this is the greatest power that never was. Of course, one day this ability may very well manifest in a retail setting, in which case no one would be safe.

Funtastic Friday Follies! The Great Muppet Caper

If you're looking for an explanation of the what and why of Funtastic Friday Follies, click here. Otherwise, here we go! (I'm so excited.)

The Great Muppet Caper

Had Kermit the Frog known just how dangerous this mission would be from the beginning, he might have told The Puppet Master to eff off. Then again, he never felt more alive than when he was in the thick of a mission and the shit was about to hit the fan.

Kermit inched his way forward through the duct work and came to another vent. Peering down into the room, he saw Rowlf tied to a chair in the middle of the small space. Blood soaked the shaggy fur in his neck and chest, and it flowed freely from his nose. The dog was looking at a man turned to a small table, on which rested a small torch, pliers, a hammer, a bolt cutter, and several other small metallic objects.

The frog saw green skin as the man dropped a bloody pair of brass knuckles on the table. The man’s hand swayed over the other implements, undecided as to what to choose, and settled on the torch. As he turned and smiled, Kermit saw a glint of gold in the man’s mouth.

“Wha-What’s that,” Rowlf asked.

Dr. Teeth didn’t say anything. Instead, he sparked the torch to life. Rowlf looked around nervously as Dr. Teeth approached.

“Now listen, man,” Dr. Teeth said in his ruff, deep voice. “I don’t want to be a total drag or anything, but I need that intel.”

He waved the torch casually over Rowlf’s arm and Kermit could smell the foul odor of burnt fur a moment later. Rowlf gritted his teeth, but did not cry out.

Kermit flipped open his wrist communicator and tapped off a quick message to Miss Piggy at central command. ::Found the pooch and the good doctor. They aren’t playing nice.::

“Where are your operatives hiding,” asked Dr. Teeth.

“Go to Hell,” spat Rowlf.

Kermit closed the communicator and looked down to see the torch being applied to the dog’s stomach. Rowlf cried out, but clamped his mouth shut quickly. The stench got much worse, and underneath, the frog could smell burning flesh. The doctor pulled the torch away, and his eyes lit up as an idea blossomed in his head.

“You’re a piano player, right?” Dr. Teeth said this as he extinguished the torch and walked back to the table. “It would be a shame is something were to happen to your fingers.”

When he turned back, he was the carrying the bolt cutter. He took a handle in each hand and snapped it menacingly a few times.

“Hey, be cool,” said Rowlf. Dr. Teeth snapped the bolt cutter again, just above the first finger on Rowlf’s left hand. “Look, uh, you don’t want to do anything that might get you in serious trouble later.” The doctor opened the bolt cutter and placed the blades on either side of Rowlf’s finger. “Uh, ok, you know I can’t tell you anything. If I talk, then M.U.P.P.E.T. will just have me killed anyway.”

“That’s not my problem, man. I just want some info.” He began to bring his hands together.

Rowlf yelped and shouted for Dr. Teeth to stop. There was desperation in his voice. The gold tooth glinted again, as Dr. Teeth smiled wide.

“You tell me what I want to know and maybe you can join the Electric Mayhem,” he said.

I don’t believe it, Kermit thought. That son of a bitch is gonna talk. He tapped out another message to Miss Piggy, ::The piano player’s going to sing.::