Did You Know? (try saying that out loud without saying ‘JEW’, I dare you.)

Did you know that if you put ”?random” aftor the ”mrmaestro.wordpress.com/” that it will pop up a random former post?

I know, let’s play a game where you do that, and then leave a funny comment.  It’ll be like Bill & Ted’s or something.  And then we’ll all get to bask in the glory of yesteryear.  Don’t think of it as me being greedy for comments, because, sheesh, never.  Instead, think of it as a useful history lesson. 

#’s 59-49

Can you feel that excitment in the air?  The tension is thick, like a fat person.   (i was always real good at similes)

This is, of course, another section of the notorious list.  Jim helped. 

#59- Sinead O’Connor

Jim says, “Nothing compares 2 U in suckiness.  Well, except maybe Cher.”

It scares me when anyone is that motivated.  Feels unnatural.  That’s why I prefer my public figures lazy and bored.   You know who else scares me?  The Irish. 

#58- Hanson

Jim says, “It must be rough to lose a shot at legitimacy when you’re 8.”

I didn’t realize that Michelle Trachtenburg ()was in Hanson.  If you remember, Hanson sang a song entitled “MMbop”, K284.  (I just hope at least ONE person gets that.)  They talked about a rose during it or something.  Well, some green-screen dude decided they would be nice and twisted and threw up a big picture of a purple and yellow pansy behind them.  My hand to Thor, it was a pansy.  Knowing it was pansy, however, is nowhere near as gay as they are, so don’t even try it.  

#57- Michael Flatley

Jim says, “Lord of the Douche.”

Have you ever wondered where your Vaseline went? 

#56- Mouseketeers

Jim says, “For giving us the likes of Justin Timberlake.  And Annette Funicello.”

That’s right, all.  They made it onto the list too.  But apparently, individually, they are nowhere near as shittastic as the sum of their parts.  Even including former members such as Christina, Britney, Felicity (long hair), and Ryan Gosling (Who the f?), they are still worse in a pack. 

#55- O.J.

Jim says, “The murderer, not the juice.”

Let’s all remember the real victims here.  Me.  Screw OJ, A.C. Cowlings was my hero, and that was STOLEN away from adolescent me unjustly.  I can never look at a White Bronco again without my pancrea twitching. 

#54- People Who Don’t Turn Right On Red

Jim says, “Move, bitch, get out the way.”

I found this person trying to justify herself.  I don’t think so.  If you won’t pussy up and effing turn, then you deserve to be honked at.  No, you deserve to be honked.  I’m not sure what I mean by that, but take that! ()  I have to calm down; I’m feeling nearly as mustered as Sinead up there.  Where’d you hide my Xanax. 

#53- Phil Donahue

Jim says, “At least he’s not Geraldo.”

I never knew why I hated this guy, until I realized his birthplace: OHIO!  Eeeww.  Also, what’s worse in this picture, Phil’s Specs or Oprah’s follicle tribute to the Rutger’s Woman’s Basketball team?

#52- V.U.P.D.

Jim says, “Substitute your own lame-ass rent-a-cops here.”

They would arrest you for walking home drunk.  I’m just saying.  Arresting walking drunk people is NOT a good way to deter drunk driving.  Seems logical, huh?  Also, no one has EVER been as horny to give out parking tickets.  Ever. 

#51- Abercrombie and Fitch

Jim says, “Abercrombie and F*ck.”

Although I hate Hollister much more for copying these asstards, I just don’t understand how people can spend that much money on clothes.  I get everything I need at Dollar General or out of that giant mail box-like thing out in front of the grocery store. 

#50- Eczema

Jim says, “It sounds awful even if it weren’t a gross skin condition.”

This one really hits home.  You know who’s even LESS cool than the kid who’s allergic to eggs, milk, and wheat, AND has wicked Asthma?  The kid who’s got all that AND painful foot eczema.  Good thing I never knew anyone like that.  Would’ve kicked his ass.

#49- Jeff Gillooly

 

Jim says, “With a name like Gilooly, it has to be a f*ck!”

Unlike Tanya, at least he got his job done.  Something to be said for a strong work ethic nowadays. 

It’s true!  I’ve been posting like crazy lately.  Don’t get used to it. 

Beans.

Did jew know that Michigan is #1 in the country in Dry Edible Navy Bean production?  I used to live there.  Hence, I am a bean expert.  A frijolonado if you will.  I know about Green Beans, Wax Beans, Refried Beans, Lima Beans, and the like.  However, there are more beans with which I’m presuming you’re less familiar, and so I feel it my duty to re-bean you.   

Melissa Bean.

Democratic member of the House of Representatives since 2004, representing the suburban Chicago neighbourhoods of Hoffman Estates, Schaumburg, and Palatine.  She’s also a bitch. 

Mr. Bean.

This lovable buffoon has been the star of a vast number of media productions with names ranging from Mr. Bean, all the way to Mr. Bean’s Holiday and Bean.  He’s not really that much of a bitch.  Hell of a schnozz though, am I right, Ladies and Gentlemen?!

Orson Bean.

As seen on the match game.  I don’t know the fuck he is, but from the looks of the background, and my gameshow expertise, I’d say he had to sit by Brett Summers.  He was also Calvin Coolidge’s second cousin.  Brett Summers and Calvin Coolidge: Bitches.

Jim Bean.

This guy sure is sneaky.  Just when you think everything is rollin’ and this guy’s helping you have a grand ole time, you find out that that hot chick had a dirty medium-sized secret.  Or you were watching The Crying Game.  Bitch.

Beans.

“Famous” rapper Beans hails from the ghettos of suburban White Plains New York.  He is the self-declared “Ornette Coleman of this rap-shit.”  If you don’t know about him, then you’re the bitch.

Flicking Bean.

Ummm. 

Frances Bean.

With parenting like that, how can you go wrong?  At least she has a stable father. 

That’s all the beans I can think of right now.  Please contribute your own.  Best bean contribution wins a free supply of Bean-o.*

*hah.  Like that’ll happen.  

Asketh, and thou shalt getteth or something

Would’st Thou Carest for Ye Olde Dragon orst Ye Mediaeval Pepsi?   (coudn’st resisteth.  done now.)

 Twice in the past, I’ve made jokes about Bananarama and how tremendous they are were.  (do a Edit, Find on page if you’re researching…I tend to go on a bit.)

For some reason, though, those two slight mentions have encouraged much search engine traffic.  So in the spirit of pregnant goats and Liza Minelli, I will again appease you, oh wise searchers.

Hair-ties, or gap-teeth, pick your poison.

“We is here for clean you house?”

This is your brain on drugs.

Chick on the bottom’s like, “I slept with hat guy.”

Like a banana, get it?

They have names.   Messed up ones.  (Sarah, psht.)

Well, God Bless the USA.  I’ll gladly stand up!……………………next to you.

Hope you’re happy.

update: that bottom one WAS a picture of them wrapped in an American Flag, but I can’t find it anywhere else.  Damn tripod.

Episode 13- “More like Stinko de Gay-o.”

In honor of Cinco de Mayo, (which, happy birthday Callista, if I could figure out your damned e-mail address, I would e-mail, but, I am, first and foremost, a loser) JIM and I decided the most appropriate thing to do would be to go to a Cubs Game.  Unfortunately, the inherent yin v. yang, push v. pull, brown v. board of education of Topeka, KS, of the universe sent us on a colossal ping-pong ride that will go down in history.  (like your mom.)(especially the go down part.)

We decided to meed in Downer’s Grove and take the train to the EL.  I screwed up some plan-making procedures (sorry, K) and we missed our 9h40 express (downtown) train. MINUS 1!  (p.s., Tom Waits effing RULES.)(downtown train.  get it?)  Fortunately, we could run our asses off to catch the 9h45, not-so-express, stop at every effing place including, but not limited to, Berwyn.  (BER-wyn…)(If I used any more parentheses today, I’d be Linkin Park.)  We made the train! PLUS 1!

We settled our sorry asses on the train, and we started to relax.  Our seats WERE bleacher seats (general admission), so we needed to get there early.  “What’s that you said Jim?”  Tickets are still in the car. MINUS 1! We immediately get off at the next stop (heh) and WALK our asses back a whole ENTIRE 3/4 of a mile to the car to retrieve the tickets.  Fortunately, we made the 10h45 and were only going to be a few minutes late since we had left so early originally.  PLUS 1!  Now, here’s a special surprise that all of you who ride the Metra! know well.  We boarded this train to find THIS as our destiny. 

That’s right, the YELLOW TAG OF MIRTH!  This is the piece of cardboard the conductor-dude puts on your seat’s hoo-hah to show that you’ve already paid.  Secret: We had not paid, but someone had, and moved, and left us the glorious tag!  We were spared paying the $3.05 each!  PLUS 1!  This led me to thinking.  What if I could use this special tag everywhere? 

Parking ticket?  Nopes, got this tag!

Tax Evasion?  Dude, this tag gives me freedom?

Chlamydia?  I don’t think so!

We got to the game a little late, after riding the EL with a dude who was rolling his own marijuana cigarette and then smoking it between EL cars, balancing on the connector thing, + 1, some chick spilled dropped her beer on Jim TWICE, -2, we finally got to SIT in the 8th inning when the game got super boring, -1, we left just before everyone else, avoiding the mass exodus, +1, we got on the EL going the wrong direction, -1, and then got assaulted by a herpe-ridden prostitute, +1.  Oh, and the Cubs won. 

I took the yellow tag.  I’m going to go show it to my Parole Officer.