Wine, Women & Whoopee

X rated and dedicated

2009-01-20T10:16:00.006-05:00

The cocktail party going in Iraq must end and end quick. It's totally out of hand. You can't swing a dead cat and not hit a terrorist. Anyhoo, here's a sample from a comic I cook up every once in awhile. I bring you "Plastic War & Peace". Please click on the pic for a larger image.

What a wicked web we weave

2009-01-13T10:19:00.005-05:00

I've have alot of weird hobbies. One of them is collecting the grocery lists that get left behind in the carts when people finish shopping. I like to try and figure out what kind of person they are, guess what they were making for dinner, why they would need five tubes of K-Y, you know, stupid shit. Maybe you'd like try it and leave a comment. Dig it:

What's deal here? They crossed off cheddar cheese, eggs and soda; then said "The
hell with the rest of the stuff, I gotta go pick up little Caleb at soccer practice!" And what have they got against good 'ol American hash browns? Anybody who doesn't have time to shop for hash browns is probably a commie, I'm sure. What do you think? Somebody throw me a comment just so I know it's working. That's it, I'm pooped. Time for some cookies and punch and maybe I'll get some pix up later of the two crappy computers I'm going to use for "DIE, HARDWARE! DIE!

Dr.Whoopee ... always try before you buy

2009-01-06T11:22:00.007-05:00

news briefs: I'm going to close out the computer destruction contest on Thursday, the 14th and announce the winner. Response wasn't as great as I had hoped but that's ok, time to adapt and move on. Converting to a vegetarian lifestyle is a lot harder than I expected, but I plan to stick with it. Time to shop for a new digital camera; champagne taste on a beer budget is a factor. Now on to the crux of this biscuit:

Woman Are Smarter Than Men

I've known that to be true for years now, but sometimes I forget and it always leads to trouble. Over the weekend my girlfriend and I made our customary pilgrimage to mecca: Lowe's Home Improvement Warehouse. She headed to flooring while I went to lighting for a new glass globe for our porch light. Not really a big deal, as I enjoy wandering the aisles and gazing at the various tools, ladders and other gizmos and I would have gone there anyway, broken light or not. Now the globe on the light is one of those fresnel (sp?) lens type of things; it kind of looks like miniature lighthouse glass, designed to spread and amplify the light. I found it quickly, but as I picked it up my mind became a whirlwind of thought. Wow, these things would make a knock-out nautical style drinking glass. Why hasn't anyone else come up with this idea? I could order them in various colors, you know, red and green like lights on a buoy...maybe pay 80 cents each for them and set up a website to sell 'em for $10, set of four. Yes, I could just see it so clearly...being summoned to the poopdeck on Blackbeard's pirate ship, where I was toasted by the man himself: "Avast me hardy's! Aaar! Let's all drink a toast to me first mate Dr.Whoopee, who with the heart of a whale and the courage of Neptune, brought us these fine drinking vessels to slake our thirst by! Aaar! He returns the favor by giving me a cask of high-octane grog and his own personal wench for the night. I retire to my deluxe cabin as the crew stays on deck and sings pirate songs written just for me... Wait, even better, I'm plying the waters off of Cape Cod in my racing yacht, The Merry Tycoon. I'm looking sharp- dressed in my blue blazer, red ascot and captains hat. (tilted at a jaunty angle, for effect) I've got Donald Trump ondoard acting as ship's servant. Bill Gates gets inquisitive as The Donald serves up a snack of beluga caviar on little toast points. "Tell me, Whoopee old boy, how do you find time for sailing when you are the nautical drinking glass czar of the world?" "It's easy, Bill" I say. "I let somebody else run the company, while I rake in the cash and become oblivious to the needs of the customer. Just like you with Microsoft! HA HA HA HA!"

Suddenly, my dream bubble is popped when my girlfriend finds me and asks "What are you doing with nine of those globes in the basket?" I explain about the idea and the internet and the money and the pirates and Bill Gates and..."You realize that you're an idiot, right? Nobody is going to drink from those things, much less buy them, dumbass. They won't work." Well, I have a clinker idea from time to time but I was sure this wasn't one of those times. I bought one globe for the light and eight "glasses". We got home and I could hardly conceal my excitement as poured an icy beverage into my beloved nautical glass. I brought it to my parched lips and drank deeply, and icy beverage dribbled all over my shirt, because there's little bumps around the brim that make it impossible to get a good seal. To make things worse, condensation builds up in the glass ribs around the thing, and that too flings off and gets you wet every time you tip it. My girlfriend has that classic look on her face- no need for words, as I already hear "Hello, MORON!" bouncing around in my knobby skull. Now I'm stuck with more dribble glasses than I'll need in a lifetime, and I'm back aboard Blackbeard's pirate ship. Only this time I'm walking the plank and my girlfriend is poking me in the ass with a very sharp sword. "YO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF BUH-BYE, SHITHEAD! AAAR!

This Country is Filled With Morons

2009-01-05T10:17:00.003-05:00

Hiya sports fans!
Coming at you from the food and wine desk today is a gem that shows how stupid Americans are becoming lately. If you are part of the problem, sorry if I offend you. No, I hope you are offended and take steps to correct yourself. Look at the pic: A bag of frozen flounder that contains fish! I love it!

A series re-run or is it?

2008-12-26T11:09:00.010-05:00

The last time I flew on a plane I was feeling a little sneaky, a bit wacky, so I ripped off one of the handy "In-the-event-of-a-fire-how-to-exit-this-piece-of-shit-airplane" cards and it was so comical I decided start a series, And it goes a little sumpin' like this:

Lime rind bras- DON'T TRY IT!

2008-12-14T15:39:00.003-05:00

I tried this litte stunt and the citrus oils in the rinds started setting fire to my nipples!

ad parody!

2008-12-05T09:16:00.002-05:00

Tired of working with Lysol and sandpaper to get the job done? Trust these products to solve the problem!

Me and my BIG mouth!

2008-10-27T19:54:00.002-04:00

So I head out to my local McMall today to do my duty as a patriotic consumer of worthless goods; maybe pickup a Motorhead CD or two and get a bite to eat. Right on the edge of the food court there is a micro-branch of my bank. Nothing fancy, just a couple of teller stations and a loan desk. What a bonus- I'll inquire about an auto loan while I'm here. Right after my usual three Snappy-Dogs and tankard of Mountain Dew, of course. I polished it all off and went to talk to the loan gimp. This guy looked like he jacked off all over the Wall Street Journal every night for gratification. I mean a real pencil neck. I spilled all my info and signed on the line; he told me to come back in an hour to "hash out the details". The Mountain Dew was circulating well so I stopped off at the restrooms at the back end of the food court. (the location makes sense; they don't have to pump the swill very far to Applebee's) SO...

I enter an empty restroom and retreat to the far stall. I just prefer a stall for some reason- don't ask me why. I settled in for a long, fine whiz and had just finished up when I hear somebody come in whistling a tune and mumbling to himself. He doesn't realize I'm in the stall as he stands in front of the urinal and rips out a brisk fart. BRRRAAAAAAPPPP-PPPP! I couldn't resist. I piped up "Speak again! O wise, toothless one!" -now I really love that line and it never fails me to get a laugh, but this time nothing. Not even a snicker. I sheepishly waited in the stall for the poor sap to leave. Oh well, they can't all be gems.

About an hour later, my shopping is done and I'm back at the loan desk. Pencil neck greets me warmly and outlines the details of the loan including tons of other facts, figures and offers that I don't need to hear. He's proud of his financial wizardry so I pump him a little: "Gee, you seem to know everything there is to know."

"Well I should, for I am the wise, toothless one."
Oops. I think I'm going to shop for a loan somewhere else...

The Barney Incident

2008-10-17T19:34:00.009-04:00

Hey jeez Dr.Whoopee here to turn you on to another fractured fairy tale!

I used to know a friend who had a 3 year old son. One day he calls me to ask if I would don a Barney the Big Purple Dinosaur costume and act as entertainment for his boy and 30 other screaming, loud-ass kids..

The fateful call came and it went a little something like this:

"So Rob, can I depend on you to do it?"
"No."
"Can you be there at 5:30?"
"No."
"That's great! How about we just pick you up. Ok?"
"No."
"Fantastic! I'm so glad you could do it!
"No." (click)

Well, I finally caved in and said I would do it. They had me get in costume, which was king hell hot in the middle of August. Anyway, I started by goofing around with all of the kids. Some of the little dickheads took to punching me in the kidneys, while one seemed to be focused on my crotch. I had to dodge his attacks by giving him a couple of wacks in the puss with a Wiffle bat. It was time I thought, for a beer. I hid behind a truck and sucked down a Beck's in seconds flat.

Anybody who knows me knows I'm a vegetarian, so my friends wife thought it would be funny to try and feed Barney a hot dog ha ha. She stuck it through the mouth-hole and I started flapping around and squirming trying to flush this thing out of the costume to no avail. Oh great, I have to finish the gig with a greasy piece of beef wedged between my legs.

I ended up snapping and biting the head off of one of the kids, causing some people to faint while others looked on in horror. Fuck'em. Serves them right for sticking a weenie into my costume! Nah, that part never really happened. But wouldn't it have been a total gas if I did it?

Wine, Women and Whoopee...Your #1 source of bullshit on the web!

Potcrackin'-- the hottest new musical genre!

2008-10-16T12:59:00.010-04:00

"With some bugs in our hair and our big flat feets Me 'n Dish Machine pump da rockin' beatz

Flab's on the back porch suckin' on a 40 Call her anything- but don't call her shorty

Homies in the swamp come from miles around 'Cuz they c'aint get enough of that dishwasher sound

Gotta blunt in my mouth and a belly full of whiskey I need to piss in the out-house but the snakes make it risky!

We're potcrackin'... potcrackin'... ah crack-crack-potcrackin!'"

-from "Potcrackin' " by Grand Master Jet-Dry & The Dismal Dish Machine. One of the greatest and lesser-known musical legends of Virginia resides right here in The Great Dismal Swamp. Yessir, it's home for potcrackin' phenom Grand Master Jet-Dry and The Dismal Dish Machine. But just what is crackin'? What are it's roots? I'll let Jet-Dry explain:

"Ya see, it's like this- back in '49 Granny Flabs won a gas-powered washin' machine in the t'backer spittin' contest. Some city boys delivered it here in the swamp, but they didn't leave no 'structions. I figured it was useful for something, so I loaded it up with plates and dishes and things and fired it up. You never heard such a racket! Crashin' and smashin'! Flab's best china was breakin' to pieces! Hell, we didn't know no better, the damn thing was for washin' clothes, not dishes! Well, I've always been handy with a wrench so I rigged it up to the old Victrola so we could listen to our records without having to crank so much. The sound of the cracked pots and the music together was... why, it was just heavenly!

Jet-Dry and his prized gasoline-powered 1949 Potcracker- It turns out that Jet-Dry has been making music for years- he was once a member of the psychobilly "Booger and The Pickers" group, and he toured as lyricist for the tiki-themed and x-rated "Nicka-Knocka-Nookie and The Kumquats". There were some failures along the way- "Kingsford and The Briquettes" were a power trio that combined speed-metal with the resonant frequency of charcoal. In Jet's words: "We sucked, plain and simple." These days, He uses a modern Feebleman dishwasher to power his turntable as he rocks the mike. As Granny enjoys some fine malt beverages, the FeeblemanJet has the rest of the family in on the act too. Baby El-bow and adopted Five-bux round out the percussion section, and they each have their own dishwashers that add a thunderous rumble to the total Jet-Dry sound. "I just start the washers and turn the kids loose with hammers!" he says.

I ask about the name, "Dismal Dish Machine". Jet tells me that "Have you ever seen two water-headed infant babies try to wash a dish? It's pretty fuckin' DISMAL!" Potcrackin' has it's own legion of rabid fans and hangers-on. I met Dizzy and Spleen who explained the strange ritual of "slamming"; It's how they ready themselves for a Jet-Dry show.

"We lie on the floor in front of the dishwasher and beat ourselves senseless with the door" Dizzy says. "After nine or ten slams it turns into a real rush." Spleen tried to speak too but he sounded like a bobcat caught in a blender, the result of many, many "slamming" sessions.

It gets dark quickly out here deep in the sticks so I wrapped up the interview early in order to make it out of the swamp alive. I did however, have one more question for the king of dishwasher rap: "Jet, your adopted son's name is Five-Bux. Why Five-Bux?""Because that's what I paid for him, dang it! Now git yer ass outta here Dr. Whoopee before I crack your head like a pot!"

Royal Balls of Blue!

2008-10-13T14:17:00.000-04:00

Ok, Peabody! Set the way-back machine to 1983 and listen up. As a teenager I had a real "I hate the world" vibe going on so I followed a strange bent to rebel against the harsh society of reality. My plan: I decided to never wear underwear again. Ever. That'll teach 'em- I don't wear any fucking underwear and I used to randomly bring up the subject at partys and other bad times like family get-togethers, all the while drawing stares from everbody. And comments like "I'll see you later, I have to uhh.... Oh yes, go scrub my toilet".

The rub? Denim makes your jewels itch like a bastard. I took this girl I used to know to a movie one night and it was hell on toast only after 10 minutes into the flick. I had to put down the popcorn and drop the Skittles and shred to the restroom seeking relief. I found an empty stall and dashed in and slammed the bolt, dropped my pants and scratched my ass off. Joy! No more itchin'! That is, until ten minutes later, when the same thing happened again. I was running out of excuses to go visit the head but screw it, I was a rebel without a clue.

Soon after the movie incident I got tired of picking blue lint off of my balls every night so I reverted to wearing boxers. The point: If you're going to show the world you're a rebel, don't do it by not wearing the proper undergarment.

My life as a troubled child.

2007-07-30T18:59:00.000-04:00

This is a pic of myself (age 4) after drinking a bottle of hair tonic. Don't do it - keeping the hair neat and clean was a royal pain in the ass.