Incomings

Continued From: "Incomings" and "Incomings"

Oh, goody, pinch me. It's another comedy quiz from radio historian Bob Middleton (a k a Bob Walker). Bob has a box of jokes I wrote three decades ago and he likes to test my memory of such international treasures and gut-busting antiquities, when he's not wallowing in same highly venerated box.

One of the following bits was written by someone other than Mikey. Am I up to the task of fingering it?

May I have the one-liners and the finger, please.

Bob

It's time for that great radio fun game, "Who Said That?"

• Coming up: The Muppet Kidney Chorus does its rendition of "It's Impassable."
  
  
• Things to Do Today:
  
  
• Give a propeller beanie to a rabbi.
  
• Drool excessively in a urologist's office.
  
  
• Lawrence Welk knew his show was canceled when he discovered Tums in his bubble machine.
  
  
• Summer Camp Tip: Avoid camps that have signs of Truman Capote wearing knee pants.
  
  
• Today on TV: Orson Welles and Shelley Winters will discuss noises they consider embarrassing.

Now tell me, who said that?

Mike

This is an easy one. All are mine, except Orson and Shelley, but I'm locating the Febreze, nevertheless.  

Bob

You are right, nipple nose. For your prize, you get a riding weed eater.

Coming up next, our feature film with Charlie Sheen. You will hear Charlie say, "Does this look infected?"

Incomings

Continued From: "Incomings"

Here's another quiz sent to me by Bob Middleton (a k a Bob Walker), my radio buddy, who has uncovered a stack of one-liners I wrote for deejays 30 years ago. Bob likes to test my memory, as I recall or delude, and floss chipmunks.

Bob

It's time to play that enthralling radio game "Who Said That?" Brought to you by the makers of Butt Putty.

OK, here are our items.

• At tax time, avoid going to an accountant named Bugsy.
  
• I gotta hurry home. Today, I replace the snake eyes on my fuzzy foam dash dice.
  
• Doing this show is more fun than tweezing Ernest Borgnine.

OK, it's up to you, our studio audience. Who said that? Mike or [another writer]?

Mike

Thank you. It's great to be on your show. Can we get some soap in the stall? Maybe some cling-free timothy?

Image via Wikipedia

As for my answers, nothing says "Mikey" like "fuzzy foam dash dice" and "tweezing Ernest Borgnine."

The Bugsy joke is not mine; it needs something more like stuttering spats.

Bob

You're right! For your coveted prize, you get a nice buttload of [name withheld, but funny!] Smoke Tartar. And you get a copy of our home game, "Ladies, Grab Your Seats."

You mean "Timothy" by The Buoys?

The Buoys: "Timothy" via YouTube

Mike

timo·thy (tim′ə t̸hē) [via YourDictionary.com]
noun
☆ a perennial European grass (Phleum pratense) with dense, cylindrical spikes of bristly spikelets, widely grown for hay

I'm leaning to publishing these endearingly lovely quiz emails, Bob, with your kind blessings and beer farts. I will delete any incriminating material, specifically the name of [name withheld, but funny!], who, I'm told, is particularly attracted to my bottom. (A lot of that going on around [location withheld].)

Bob

Print away. I would be more than delighted. Did I ever tell you [name withheld, but funny!] never wanted to [field trip withheld].

I can come up with reams of more material. I was cleaning up my spare room and came across your funny stuff. You've got quite a warped mind, my brother.

Mike

No, Bob, you never told me of that particular female peccadillo, but, thankfully, I shall be suitably troubled by it until my dying day and maybe another eternity.

Gulp. You made me swallow my gum. "Cleaning up my spare room."

Come to our house. We have plenty more [to tidy].

More to come...

Incomings

This round of correspondence was initiated by my radio partner, Bob Middleton (a k a Bob Walker), formerly of "Boss Bad Radio."

I kid the Bob.

Bob says of WBAD, "1570 on AM dial, just above the police frequencies."

He's been a Kansas radio favorite for three decades, currently at My 93-1, Hutchinson. Bob once sent me an autographed tumbleweed. It's still blowing east.

I've known Bob from his days at WRAS, WIIN-97, and Z-93, Atlanta. His cat, Pooper, once jumped on my head and I kinda liked it.

As the cleverly branded Mike and Bob, we hosted the morning show at WFOM, Marietta (an Atlanta suburb), 1978-80. One of our popular quotes: "7:14, 39 degrees."

Bob still uses that. I get no checks.

In the following years, I wrote comedy material and published "The Security Blanket," a joke sheet for radio announcers in the United States and Canada. The monthly issues were along the lines of "The Electric Weenie," another comedy source for deejays.

Out of the blue, last week, Bob started asking the hard questions. He had found his wayward box of -- *cough* -- adlibs.

Bob

It's time to play that great radio fun game "Who Said That?" We will tell you [four] goofy lines. Did Mikey say [it] or "The Electric Weenie"?

• I need more taxes like Flipper needs Nair.

• It's so nice out, I saw Mr. Peanut getting fitted with a Polaroid monocle.
  
• Mr. Whipple's ancestors were opposed to squatters' rights.
  
• Weird dentist. He has pin-ups of Marie Osmond's cavities.

OK, which one is not a Mikey quote?

Mike

Golly. The first two are mine and have my rhythms.

I'd say one of the last two is not mine, probably Marie Osmond. However, I am not sure, although I do recall the Mr. Whipple. I'd be so proud to squat. And thanks for squeezing it out of me.

I hope I win some Turtle Wax.

Bob

You're right, MIke! Just for answering our question, you win two used airline tickets to Tallapoosa and some Rice-A-Roni, the San Francisco treat. Now, back to "Catch It and Keep It!"

Mike

So, I wrote the Squatters' Rights bit! Yay, me. ... I'm especially humbled.

More to come...

Off the Wall: The Lou Costello Dilemma

Saving Facebook: 

Friend Ray Taylor asks:

Would Lou Costello be better off not saying "Niagara Falls" or not wanting to get directions to the "Susquehanna Hat Company"?

My response:

Thank you for your question. You see, sir, I wasn't always a dirty, filthy, scurvy bum like you.

I have invested as much as six minutes to ponder and curse your inquiry. It is in no minor state of regret from which I acknowledge Mr. Costello finds himself in a dire predicament or a "pickle," as the young-uns so voice and devastate our unofficial language.

Fortunately, the gentleman's proclivities to attract riotous conflict, immense hostility, and h-h-harming have been significantly diminished in the recent decades, several in sequence, with a steep decline in popularity of the hatted.

On the other appendage, it is deemed unfortunate a certain head gear manufacturer has relocated said business to the controversial shores of the nefarious Niagara love nest.

To decide your inquiry directly, I cannot, but as a recent devotee of the cervical collar, I would prescribe Mr. Costello to acquire one, maybe five.

He must employ the silent treatment at any and all times the side-stepping of hammy character actors may not be possible.

Furthermore, I advise him to consult on the matter with his kindly partner, Mr. Abbott.

Mike
At the Help Desk

P.S. Eat lemons.

"The Abbott and Costello Show (1951): Niagara Falls" via YouTube


"In Society (1943): Susquehanna Hat Company" via YouTube

'How CinemaScope Works'

As a career movie theatre projectionist, I've spent much of my time explaining how CinemaScope productions, those extra-widescreen films (also marketed as Panavision, Techniscope, etc.), are created. It's confusingly technical, so how pleasing to find this instructional video.


"How CinemaScope Works" via YouTube

Big Weekend

Big weekend, pondering questions my parents never answered.

Friday: Mom and Dad are deceased. I am still waiting for The Sex Talk. I have been married nearly 29 years. May I PUHHH-LEEEEEEEZE proceed?!!

Saturday: Washer Woman's Elbow. They never explained Washer Woman's Elbow. And here I suffer suds and a clogged lint trap up my sleeve.

Sunday: Why is it guys go clueless at 55 and walk around with their zippers open?

Of course, I remain too pubescent and keen to have had any personal experience.

Snap Judgement

Why in the world do stores put all of these photographs on sale? I'll be minding my business, shopping for cashew trail mix or pup tents or a festive assortment of holiday sundries for children of all ages from three to 99 (27, 51, 86 not available in CT, SD, and selected Pep Boys) and all of a sudden I'm overcome by a pictorial gallery.

I do not need a picture of these people. They are strangers. I don't know a one of them. The companions I'm with don't know 'em. The clerks and floor managers don't know 'em. I ask!

No retailer has ever put my picture on a shelf. At least, I didn't see it if they did. I'd buy a photo of me. I don't really need any, but if they'd do that, I'd buy one. I'll make the pledge.

Otherwise, I'm moving on. We own a camera for crying out loud. And it takes color...

CONFIDENTIAL Q&A

Questions for Mr. Durrett, if He Has a Moment, Posed by The Friday Five

1. If you were to die today, what would your last words be?

"Argglflbhghhhh gfkklhgalg glggphlbblllgk ... that the southland gave birth to the blues!"

2. What would you want your epitaph to say?


3. What song would you want played at your funeral?

"The Itsy-Bitsy Spider."

It's where I came in.

4. In lieu of flowers, what should loved ones do in your honor?

Defib paddles! Defib paddles! Defib paddles!

And no ticklin'.

5. What unfinished business would you wrap up?

Oh, I'm no different than most people. Cremation plans in place, all there's left for me is to meat brush on the Lynchburg Tennessee Jack Daniels BBQ Fiery Smokin' Hott (151 Proof).

Someone else can do the grill floss.

CONFIDENTIAL Q&A

Questions for Mr. Durrett, if He Has a Moment, Posed by The Friday Five

1) Who was your first kiss?

A blind date. She was lovely. I was a nervous wreck. I swallowed my gumbo bowl.

2) Who is the last person you kissed?

My wife, silly. I've got integrity and the cat's not a people.

3) What is the story of your most romantic kiss?

What the American people want to talk about are the issues, not someone I kissed years ago, someone in the neighborhood. We should be talking about the issues. That's what we should be talking about.

4) What is the story of your worst kiss?

I was very apprehensive, fidgety. I knew I had to do it, my first kiss. I was on a mission. There was another couple with us that would have been merciless to me if I didn't kiss her, so I manned up and went in for the score.

I slid off her face.

5) Who do you want to kiss right now?

The American people don't want to hear about my associations, who I'm palling around with. What the American people want to hear about are the issues. We should be talking about the issues. That's what we should be talking about. What are you wearing?

How Long Could My Big Brother Survive Chained to a Bunk Bed With a Velociraptor?

Out of the blue, brother Bob wrote to inform me he would survive much longer than me chained to a bunk bed with a velociraptor. The unspoken sibling ridicule and implied smirk were palpable.

He says he would lounge and linger for 63 seconds, compared to 28, my estimated time of departure.


I'm cuter.

Of course, Bob would fare longer. He'd make me sleep on the bottom bunk under the threat of noogies and the pitter patter of raptor.

I'm cuter.

Regardless, I will have to rethink my marinating in a nice Béarnaise sauce before retiring.

I'm cuter.

How Long Could I Survive Chained to a Bunk Bed With a Velociraptor?

Thanks for asking. I know you probably want to move on with your life, so...


Well, yeah. But it would take me 19 seconds to remember my lines and commence the cry like a little girl.

I think I'd fare much better taking him on in Parcheesi, especially if I got to roll first. Dibs on yellow.

And the Tic Tacs®. If I didn't use Tic Tacs® for the 37 years previous, I just might triumph.

The velociraptor would stump me on Sudoku, though, My legs and arms and head would be munched before I could count to nine.

Excuse the brag, but I'm kind of a feast. That would be a day I would not be proud of my chewy nougat center.

Or my party name, "Sweetmeat."

100 Things About Me #142

Meating Mike for
Dinner

Yeah, but I'm no picnic.


100 Things: #1 | Previous | Next

Rebus Mikey

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Hold your cursor over the above images for the hidden messages.

Play with the Rebus Generator via Festisite. You may need to select "Rebus" from their menu.

Which James Bond Am I?

Your results:
You are Daniel Craig

The sixth actor to play Bond in the movies promises to be a more realistic, down to earth and not so perfect James Bond, while still being a sexy womanizer.

Casino Royale Mini Poster
Buy at AllPosters.com

Daniel Craig?

Here I was being "realistic," thinking I'm Jimmy Bond (Woody Allen, "Casino Royale," 1967). We dress alike (pajamas with snappy brown shoes) and, let me put on my glasses, you're not supposed to hit a guy wearing glasses.

Yes, I am "down to earth." It's the extra 50 pounds of Goo Goo Cluster goo. I can hardly pick up my feet off the planet.

I admit I'm "not so perfect," but I compensate with the abundance of factory-seconds dimples.

Me, a "sexy womanizer?" This could cost me a fortune in tux ties and Tic Tacs.


Click here to take the "Which James Bond Am I?" quiz.

What "Family Guy" Character Are You?

What the Deuce?

I woke up this morning wondering what character on "Family Guy" I most resemble in the personality department -- and in my limited animation. (I seldom show my feet and I favor appearances before repetitious, one-dimensional backgrounds.)

I found a "Family Guy" quiz on the Internet and answered all of their pesky interrogatories.

My Results:

"Who the hell do you think you are? Ah, you're STEWIE. You have an intellect greater than most of your peers, but much of it is squandered on bizarre obsessions. You demand much from those around you and hide a deep, dark secret."

Oh, my goodness! This is the most marvelous moment of my life. I'm Stewie. I'm STEWIE!

At last, someone understands me. I am just like him. I toddle around the house. I have issues with that woman who resides here. And I like to be pampered.

Indeed, my intellect is greater than most of my peers. Few of them understand why Joe Besser made a better Stinky than a Stooge. Back to your beer vomits, boys.

What's this "bizarre obsessions" charge? I need to know. The only obsession I have concerns my career and it is decidedly non-bizarre. Writing is hard. There are days I want to change occupations. Those are the days I roll a Wal-Mart greeter and dress me up in the happy face vest.

Ten minutes of that and I'm back minding my p's and q's, assorted vowels, the occasional ampersand, and 24 words per nap intermission.

Perhaps, I am a smidgen demanding. I couldn't say. Now, where are my personal pedicurist-slash-soap-bar-whittler and the souffle fluffer? Those two shall be docked! They'd better be procuring circular, flat, mucilaginous fruit of the dwarf mallow, if they know what's good for them.

It is also puzzling to imply I "hide a deep, dark secret." Nothing is further from the truth. So what if I still drink from a baby's milk bottle?

Stewie drinks from a milk bottle. He's cool. Me, too. I'm hip. My milk bottle has a nipple ring.

Which "Napoleon Dynamite" Character Are You?

I woke up this morning wondering which "Napoleon Dynamite" character I am. I like that movie. It's funny and inspiring and I'm the kind of guy who loves a pocket full of Tater Tots. Add a plastic wallet oozing ketchup and a coin purse bubbling mustard and nickels-- well, that's a Saturday night.

I went online and found a "Napoleon Dynamite" personality questionnaire. I answered the inquiries, including "What do you do in your spare time?" and "Where do you shop for clothes?" as accurately as possible.

My Results:

Lip gloss?

I would've been happy as a liger. Dang.

Something has gone horribly wrong here.

I'm Summer, the hot babe? That's so foreign to me.

I've never felt particularly popular and it's never occurred to me to have an idiot boyfriend.

The last boots I wore were for walking on Smyrna, Georgia.

My pet peeves are cat boxes and hairballs.




I'm at a loss as to what to say.




Speechless.




Hmmh.




Can one have a camisole full of Tots?

Mike photo copyright ©2005 Mike Durrett. All rights reserved.