Davezilla: Clean Humor, Filthy Comments

Do you ever have soundtracks in your dreams? I have one every damn night. The worst part of is, it tends not to be music I like, but in my dreams, it loops continuously throughout the night. Scientists say our brains are just working out things we encountered that day. I don’t buy it. Some of the music that pops up in my dreams I haven’t heard in years. I made an effort to write down every dream soundtrack of 2011.

• January 1: The Green Manalishi. Not the brilliant Judas Priest cover version. The intolerable Fleetwood Mac version.
• January 2: Forgotten upon waking.
• January 3: Let’s Give them Something to Talk About. Kill me now.
• January 4: Pokemon theme
• January 5: 25, or 6 to 4. *shudders*
• January 6: Mad World. Donny Darko version which I don’t like nearly as much as the Tears for Fears original.
• January 7: Crazy Train.
• January 8: Crazy Train. Again. Dammit.
• January 9: Margaritaville. Oh god, no.
• January 10: Mr. Blue Sky by ELO. This song is so lame, it’s embarrassing to listen to. Having it in your head all night? Unacceptable.
• January 11: Renegade by Styx. Inconceivable!
• January 12: Africa by the forgettable 80s band, Toto. I only wish I could have forgotten this song upon waking.
• January 13: Achy-Breaky Heart. Do I seem like the sort of individual who enjoys country? Hint: NO. I Googled this turd of a song to double check the spelling, only to find achey is misspelled. How very kountry.
• January 14: Karma Chameleon. Everyone hated this song in the ’80s. Unlike a Chateau Latour, this song hasn’t aged well.
• January 15: We love our Commodore. OK, this one at least happened on Saturday. I went to the Commodore’s Ball with my wife. Did not expect to hear this damn song all night.

Longtime reader Bobby Peru, (and by longtime, I mean 14 years) pointed me to a fun tool for searching Facebook status messages, called OpenBook. While this is amusing enough, Peru went one further. He said that lots of folks make typos in their statuses (we’ve noticed!) and that by searching for the wrong word on OpenBook, you’ll get some hilarious results.

Below are the search results for people who meant to type “things” and instead typed “thongs”. (For my Aussie readers, thongs should be taken to mean g-strings or tangas, but not sandals). Hilarity ensues. Click each icon for the full image.

1. Supplies Are Limited
2. The Low Hanging Fruit
3. First Mover Advantages
4. Out of Pocket and the Expenses
5. Touch Bases
6. Win Win and the Situations
7. The Pro-Actives
8. The Mission Criticals
9. Thinking Outside and the Boxes
10. The Core Competencies
11. More Bang and the Bucks
12. The Bean Counters
13. The Wow Factors
14. Turn Key and the Solutions
15. The Halo Effects
16. The Stress Puppies
17. Seagull Management
18. Dog and the Pony Show
19. The 11th Hour
20. 86′d
21. The Old Boys’ Club
22. The Scope Creeps
23. The Human Capitals
24. Ego Surfers
25. The Mighty Blame Stormers

What bands did you think of? BTW, this post was written at 30,000 feet, flying to Washington, D.C. while sitting next to a businessman who used about 20 of these phrases while describing himself.

1. “You go girl!”
2. “Are you a natural blonde?”
3. “I’m not wearing underwear.”
4. “That’s the last time I have unprotected sex with a grizzly bear.”
5. “Two grannies. One cup. Just imagine.”
6. “Nearer to the grave is what you’ll crave.”
7. “Like the grey? The carpets match the drapes, you know.”
8. “Let’s pump this jam!”
9. “I’ll even take my teeth out.”
10. “Ever done it bent over a walker?”
11. “Perry Como Madourravit”
12. “Up for some Hanna Montana cosplay?”
13. “Ya wanna see a real lady gaga, sonny?”
14. “Loose dentures. The baseball mitt is for the sneezing.”
15. “Chillax!”
16. “So for you, how many cats is too many cats?”
17. “Pitchin’ the viagra tent tonight.”
18. She’s a 75 year old but with the body of a 64 year old.
19. (Lung will go to hell for this one) “Ever had a Parkinson’s handjob?”

Co-written by Lung the Younger

Like many of you, I am addicted to HBO’s True Blood. Best. Show. Ever. Certainly the best vampire show. How then, did they come up with the bone-headed scheme of naming a 3,000 year-old vampire king Russell? Seriously? Russell means “red” so I can see the meaning, but seriously. A tri-millenial vampire should surely rank a spookier name than Russell.

However, since they feel this name is fitting, and from the storyline, it looks pretty certain that King Russ is going to be offed soon, I have some alternate names for the replacement king:

1. Cuthbert
2. Bubba Joe Billy Bob VI
3. Pinkus
4. Tiny Jim
5. DJ Toofs
6. Bingo the Clown
7. Sunshine Deathray (which is apparently a real name)
8. Mustafah Jones
9. Dick Cheney
10. What would you name the new vampire king?

For three years now, I have been attempting to grow grapes. I planted two large vines in Lizz’s yard back when we were just friends. Last year, we got engaged and the first three bunches of grapes showed up, only to be devoured by insects a month later. This year, we got married and 42 bunches of grapes appeared!

The grapes were beautiful and had just started to turn into a beautiful purple shade when they began disappearing one by one. We have one of those wild, English garden yards that dozens of birds, butterflies and other wildlife like to hang out in, so it was anyone’s guess whose stomach they were ending up in.

Then we saw him. A scraggly, fucking teenage Robin was hopping onto our pergola and snatching grapes. I didn’t believe it when my wife told me. Then I saw the bastard firsthand, sitting on our fence, grape in mouth. If beaks could smirk, then this one did. He cocked his concrete-grey head at me, swallowed the grape and flew off.

Two days later, he had eaten 90% of the grapes. I saw him sitting in the neighbor’s yard, waiting for me to leave so he could continue his life of crime. I threw a tennis ball at him and nicked a feather. He didn’t flinch. He just started chirping loudly, flew overhead and dropped a huge pile of shit near my head (I saw it coming and moved). The next morning, every grape was gone and our porch had so much bird shit, you’d swear kids were playing paint ball with bird droppings.

I don’t know much about trapping birds, but I do know one thing. One way or another, that red-breast is going down.