Top 10 Worst Scary Movies Ever!

10. "A Very Wolfman Full Moon Brazilian Wax"

9. "Nancy Pelosi on Elm Street"

8. "The Thing vs. The Doohickey"

7. "Chaz Bono's Wonderful World of Play-Doh Molds"

6. "Homicide With Raisins"

5. "Frankenstein: A Boy and His Trousers" (Animated)

4. "Nanny McPhee Chokes on Her Own Coagulated Bile" (Oops, this should be on the "Inspirational Larks" list.)

4. "Fraidy Gaga"

3. "It's the Great Pumpkins, Chesty Morgan"

2. "Pootloose"

And the #1 Worst Scary Movie Ever!: "Abbott and Costello Meet Your Toenails in a Dixie Cup"

It Sucks to Be Mikey

Continued From: "Big Weekend" and "Meanwhile..." 

Due to government boneheadedness™, this photo op cost The Happy Durretts $700. Bathe yourself in it.

I snapped this memento moments before the septic tank exorcist hooked up the big hose to his suck truck. I had barricaded myself inside the house to escape the forthcoming fragrant ambiance.

It didn't work.

To my shock and "Eww," I discovered the smell was more tolerable outside than indoors, so I strolled over to the scene of the slime and looked in.

I guess it's my broadcasting training, but I couldn't help myself with the play-by-play action.

"Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Spousal Unit. Mine. Mine. Mine. Bug Man. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. In-law to Be Named Later. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Cat vomit. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Unintelligible. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Birthday Boy. Mine. Mine. Mystery meat. Mine. Mine. Mine. Was Lindsay Lohan here? Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. It's squeezably soft; it's irresistible. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Toothless Goon Poltergeist. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine...."

Indeed, I am a proud man.

Oh. And, kids, let this be a lesson to you. You never know where your bendy straw has been.

'It's a Gas!' (Disco Version)

Continued From: "It's a Gas!"


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'It's a Gas!'

100 Things About
Me #156

Within my circle of friends, the only 1960s musical event to surpass Beatlemania was the insertion of a plastic-coated paper phonograph record among the pages of "MAD" magazine. The vocal artistry of one Alfred E. Neuman and the Furshlugginer Five augmented the swinging "It's a Gas," which I believe was a Wagner "Der Fliegende Holländer" aria originally or a Teamsters' meal break.

We loved this tune so much that years later it would be incorporated into our English class project, "The Birth of a Tragic Flaw," which was an original 8mm movie mash-up of William Shakespeare's "Macbeth" and D.W. Griffith's "The Birth of a Nation." We got an "A" and wet eyes all around.

The same day, we graduated from high school. It's a pass.


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Chicks

My wife showed me the Cluckers at a store, explaining that her brother had given her one for Easter.

Donna: You wind up the chicken and it hops around and poops. I wouldn't eat it. Gross.

Mike: It's not poop. Read this.

Donna: "Lays bubble gum eggs."

Oh.

Well, I'm still not eating it.

The next morning for breakfast, she served us hardboiled eggs. You know, the ungross kind.

Doo Not Drop In

The Isle of Palms, proud home of edible Seagull Poop, is a lovely place to laze, but we brown bag it -- and wear oversized beach umbrella hats.

In deference to the apparent abundance of Shrimp Poop, we don't stroll in the surf either, unless our hip waders are waterproofed, shellacked, and Bactined, and have never been dunked in cocktail sauce.

Seagull Poop and Shrimp Poop are two reasons I am glad I am a vegetarian. I would not be a big fan of the seapoop, excepting, of course, those Johnny Depp pirate movies.

To date, I have found nothing to hint there are delectibles such as Chickpea Poop, Raisin Poop, Tofu Poop, Arugula Poop, or Pistachio Poop, which I consider to be a big plus on my dietary buffet.

I did, as a safety precaution, give up kidney beans, because indeed I am suspect of whatever they're juicing.

Rear Window

It's not the sharpest photograph, but emblazoned across the top of the tank: "AL'S OUTHOUSES."


Al, from a friend, two words:

Weight Watchers.

Separated at Birth: Mr. Hankey and...

Mr. Handi?!

Make Your Own Jokes

Boys Will Be Boys

100 Things About Me #137

Reentering the Boys Room at Fernbank School after 42 years was exhilarating. Forty-two years is a long time to go between pees.

The headaches stopped and my nervous leg twitch may wind down by autumn.

Look at those tiny urinals for the youngest lads. Cute, huh? I remember that spot in first grade, rolling around, bumping into the wall and porcelains. Darn training wheels.

Oh, because you wonder, during the recent visit, I did check the stalls for messages. I had none. It felt like Valentine's Day again.

Justin, Class of '86, you're to "have a gnarly summer."

And "For a good time, watch 'ALF' on NBC."

I don't recall anything out of the ordinary ever happening in the Boys Room, except a seventh grade teacher questioned my zipper etiquette while we were standing elbow-to-elbow, urinal-to-urinal. I had unbuttoned and lowered my husky Haggar slacks, rather than access via the fly. He seemed puzzled by my method, but it worked for me. And isn't that the best society can hope for in a young person?

Teach and I had a very proper, instructive conversation and, frankly, it was a welcomed change from the usual straightforward "nice cinderblocks we're having."

Today, he would have been incarcerated -- and I'd be dropping trou' "On the Record With Greta Van Susteren."


100 Things: #1 | Previous | Next
This Entry Continued From: "100 Things About Me #131," part of the "Back to School" sequence.

Getting It Outta My System

Two days ago in this opus, I posted "when nature calls" photographs, including a frontier potty.

Then, I found a related snapshot to share, so somehow yesterday seemed to be the perfect time to answer the immortal question, "Does a deer wee in the woods?"

And now I face a dilemma. What to do? What to do?

I had hatched no plans for dropping a long stream of this ick on you, yet there remain other bodily nuggets to publish from where those flowed. I'm sitting on a big fat stash. I've got piles. I'm backed up. I need to wipe my outbox clean, or it's bound to go to waste. I hate to make a stink, but I'm pushing forward. The crap runs.

For starters, here's a picture I clicked when we toured my old classroom at Fernbank Elementary School.


"Field Trips to Redundancy"

More to come, 1 or 2...

Hey, You Kids, Get Outta My Yard!!

Oh, great. Now we'll have to rip it out and buy a completely new replacement yard.

Hair Loon

Twenty-six years of marriage. Actual conversation:

Mike: Have you seen my hairbrush?

Donna: Yes, I put it with mine.

Mike: Better be careful, or they might mate and we'll get a bad sweater out of it.

Donna: I just put it there to clean.

Mike: [picks up his brush and points at the clump of hairs] Look here: 1973. Long before I met you.

Donna: Michael!

Mike: See this? [points again] That's the night I saw "The Sting."

Donna: [snorts] You're awful! You are awful!

Zit Me: The Squeezable Mike Game

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Mike About: Pictogame
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Bottom Line

An actual conversation with my physician:

Doctor: Anything else?

Mike: Yeah, this is a bit gross and I apologize--

Doctor: That's okay.

Mike: I'm having a little hemorrhoidal situation. I'm not hurting--

Doctor: Okay.

Mike: My question is I bought some ointment and there's a warning on the box that says, "Ask a doctor before use if you are taking a prescription drug for high blood pressure." What about that?

Doctor: Aw, use as much of that stuff as you want.

Mike: I figured so. I thought it might be one of those legal things.

Doctor: They're just covering their ... They're just covering their butt.