Monday Mood: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NELLY!

From the inception of this blog, we’ve made two things clear. Entourage… and MO…AKA DIRTY… AKA PIMP JUICE. We’ve been postin The Fix ever since, makin sure you Shake Ya Tailfeather Over and Over again, Party People! We kept it Hot In Herre with some of the takes, and Ben and I have been faced with a Dilemma or 2 in making this your #1 daily must-visit spot. That’s Just A Dream we had…

Anyway, what were we talkin about?  I got distracted with pointless references and puns, there. Happens damn near Errtime. Happy Birthday, Champ!

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Potato Of The Day Episode 95

redbananasHey guys, your momma’s so fat, the grocer sold her as a plantain! HAHAHAHAHA! Oh what’s the matter bananas, you feeling a little red? You know, because your skin’s pigmentation and whatnot! #BURN. Just like your sunburnt looking ass! GOTCHA AGAIN! So I heard that red bananas have a slight mango flavor. You know who else has a slight mango flavor? YOUR MOM! Because she’s also a red banana, and human beings like me eat red bananas so therefore I’d know what she tastes like. HA! Get it? No? Gosh, you red bananas really aren’t enjoying this, huh? What gives? Seriously, why so angry guys? What are you, Bruce Bananer? Well two can play that game. YOU WON’T LIKE ME WHEN I’M HUNGRY! HAHAHA!

Oh hush, calm down guys, there’s no reason to get yourself in a bunch. #TOOLATE! #SICKBURNTHESEQUEL. I didn’t realize you guys had such thin peels! You know, instead of skin. That’s a sick play on words, banabros. Woah, woah, woah! Where are you guys going? Okay, okay, my bad! There’s no reason to split! HAAAAAAAAA! Sorry you guys, I just can’t help myself. Unless we’re talking about a profitable export from East Africa, in which case, I can’t help you because you’ve already been picked! Haa… wait, that one wasn’t very good. Kind of like you, am I ripe? HIGH FIVE THIS PLAYA! Oh wait, you can’t! Because your fruit is called a finger, not a hand!

Alright, alright, I know I’m not being fair. I need to give you a chance to return fire. So hit me with it red bananas, give me your sickest burn. ROAST ME!

Annnd… that would have been a great comeback for a SILENT film. You know, because you didn’t say anything? You know, because you don’t have mouths to make sounds with? You know, because silent films also didn’t have mouth sounds in them. HA! Man, am I on a roll today or what? Just like you when you’re covered in cream cheese! BOOM! Pastry recipe humor in the house! I like you guys. Really, I do! I think it’s all that potassium. Without it, you’d really be cramping my style! Oh boy, someone spray me down cause I’m on FIRE! Just don’t hose the bananas, that’s their skin, not flames! #TWOTHINGSTHATARERED

Okay, this has been fun guys, but I need to run. You’ve been great, a real top banana! For real guys, you don’t need to listen to anymore of my banana oil! I mean this has been a real banana skin for you! #SEQUENTIALBANANAIDIOMS Okay, maybe just one more! PENIS, YOU LOOK LIKE A PENIS. Ha! Well, that one could use some work. It was sort of low hanging fruit! I know, why don’t you go hang out in a banana hammock until I figure it out… HA! Get it? Because, penis. From before. Jokes. Ben out!

Potato Of The Day Episode 93

littlewhitebuttonmushroomOnce upon a time, the White Button family had decided to go on vacation, a long road trip to do some sightseeing. They were all set, packed, and ready to go. Well, that is except for Little White Button, who was having a very difficult time deciding what to bring with in the car.

“But Pa, I need all my clothing,” said Little White Button.

“All your clothing?” asked Pa White Button.

“Yes! What if it gets cold, or hot, or it rains, or snows, or there’s wind, or I spill, or get uncomfortable, or need a disguise?” replied Little White Button.

“Okay, if that’s what you need, that’s what you need,” said Pa White Button.

And so he loaded all of Little White Button’s clothing into the car, packing parkas and pants, swimsuits and sweaters, tights and Toadstool costumes, and on and on and on, until the closet was empty and there were no more clothes to pack.

“Are you ready to go now?” asked Pa White Button.

“No, no! I need my books! It’s a long trip. I’ll need to read,” said Little White Button.

“Okay, if that’s what you need, that’s what you need,” said Pa White Button.

And so he loaded all of Little White Button’s books into the car, packing away Where the Wild Truffles Are, and Chanterelle’s Web, and Goodnight Morel, and on and on and on, until the bookshelves were bare and there were no more books to pack.

“Okay, are you all set now?” asked Pa White Button.

“Oh Pa, one more thing! I need my toys! What if I get bored, or lonely?” said Little White Button.

“Okay, if that’s what you need, that’s what you need,” said Pa White Button.

And so he loaded all of Little White Button’s toys into the car, packing away stuffed bears and bobcats, and jackals and jaguars, and leopards and lions, and on and on and on, until the toy box was barren and there were no more of Little White Button’s collection of Harmless Stuffed Carnivores left to pack.

“Okay, that’s everything, Pa. I’m ready. Let’s go!” said Little White Button.

“Ah, I’m sorry Little White Button, but you’re not going anywhere,” replied Pa White Button.

“We’re not?” asked Little White Button.

“No, no. We, that is your mother and I, are going, but I’m afraid you’ll have to stay behind,” said Pa White Button.

“Why’s that, Pa?” asked Little White Button.

“Because with all your stuff in the car, I’m afraid there just isn’t mushroom left!” spouted Pa White Button.

And everyone laughed happily ever after! The end.

Humpday Hymn: John Mayer – “Free Fallin” (Live At Nokia Theatre)

One of the baddest men on the guitar OF ALL TIME is known for more than just inspiring the art of never ever ever that continues to permeate our lexicon to this day. But John’s more than just a race to outdo Derek Jeter in their respective… lineups?.

No no! Mayer is known most for holdin the collective breath of a room with heavenly hymns like this oldie but goldie. For this humpday hymn, drop your jaw and breath to leave it… Free Fallin. #NAILEDIT

Potato Of The Day Episode 70

lemonjuiceknockknockThis morning I witnessed a conversation between two voices in my head. I’ve transcribed it below. Warning: It was dumb.

-Begin transcript-

Ben 1: Knock Knock!
Ben 2: I don’t like Knock Knock jokes.
Ben 1: Knock. Knock.
Ben 2: Ugh, fine. Who’s there?
Ben 1: Lemon!
Ben 2: Lemon who?
Ben 1: Lemon who-se!
Ben 2: …
Ben 1: Lemon WHOce? WHO-sssssssss? Get it?
Ben 2: Who’s what?
Ben 1: No, like HOO-sssssss. Think about it. Mouth it out like sound of owl, sound of snake…
Ben 2: Hoot hiss? That doesn’t make sense. Lemon Hoot Hiss? Is that a thing?
Ben 1: You’re not doing it right. Owls go HOO. Snakes go SSSSSSSSS.
Ben 2: Snakes do not go ssssssssss. They go hiss.
Ben 1: No, that’s cats. Cats hiss when threatened, like if they see a snake ssssssssing at them.
Ben 2: No… just, no. That is definitely NOT a thing.
Ben 1: Knock Knock!
Ben 2: What.
Ben 1: Snake!
Ben 2: Snake who?
Ben 1: Snake goes ssssssssssss.
Ben 2: That’s not even a joke!
Ben 1: Correct, it’s a fact. Snakes go sssssssssss.
Ben 2: There’s not even any vowels in that word! THAT’S NOT A THING!
Ben 1: It was lemon juice. The first joke. Who-se. Juice. It’s close.
Ben 2: Oh.
Ben 1: Yeah, well…. Yeah. I guess I should go now.
Ben 2: Probably, yeah.
Ben 1: I was just trying to have fun, you know? Later man.
Ben 2: …
Ben 1: …
Ben 2: Hey, hey. Wait up! Just.. uh… well, Knock Knock.
Ben 1: For real?! Who’s there?
Ben 2: I hate myself for this but… snake.
Ben 1: SNAKE WHO?
Ben 2: Snake in the LEMONgrasssssssssssss.
Ben 1: HEYO!
Ben 2: …
Ben 1: We’re not good at Knock Knock jokes, are we?
Ben 2: Not at all.

-End transcript-

See? That WAS dumb, wasn’t it? You’re welcome.

Potato Of The Day Episode 60

cornsecretWell, well, well… what do we have h-EAR*? (*This lazy ass pun brought to you by the influence of Siya. Siya: helping Ben write lame jokes for over a decade.) Looks like somebody has a secret! What are you hiding deep in your papery sheath Mr. Corn? What indeed…  Is it a deep, dark disturbance, a renegade evil lurking within your husked bowels? Or is it something more magical, a dancing whimsy, a giggle amongst whispering friends? Or is it something different all together, a lie for the sake of lying, an exercise in forced fiction? Why won’t you come out and share, Mr. Corn? What do you have to lose? What exactly, Mr. Corn, are you up to?

I’ve never known corn to be a secretive plant. It tends to flower out in the open, standing tall, waving at neighbors. It’s got that Midwestern, farmland heart. It sees the good in people. It shines with the sun. It splashes with the rain. It lets out its fluffy wild side in the excitement of sudden heat. Corn is the backbone of us, agricultural, industrial, adaptive. But now… now I’m starting to wonder about all of that. Now, Mr. Corn here has me wondering if something else is in play. Maybe I’ve misjudged our crop friend, losing track of the truth in a Halloween maze of my mind’s design. Or maybe that sudden fear is what’s unfounded. Maybe I need a longer perspective, a view from the sky, to be able to read the signs.

If you zoom way, way out, what do you see? You see a green plant. Green. When you think of corn though, what color do you think of? Yellow. And, of course, yellow is the color we associate with cowardice. But corn, corn isn’t a coward. But then again, cowards hide truths. Cowards conceal. And this corn is concealing something… something yellow? But again, Mr. Corn… he’s green. He’s ripe. He’s inexperienced. He’s unprepared. So green = not ready and yellow = fear.  So if he’s hiding his yellow, then he’s burying his cowardice down behind his wide-eyed greened husk, but in turn, that of course makes him green, and unprepared.

So that’s it, isn’t it, Mr. Corn? That’s your secret. You’re just not ready yet to put yourself out there. That’s okay then, Mr. Corn. It takes time to be prepared. It takes time to feel ready to share. It takes time to build up the courage to open up. But whenever you’re ready, whenever you decide to shed your greenness and show the world your inner-yellow self, whenever that time comes, we’ll all be right here.

{Siya’s note: appropriating immaculate puns, then blaming the African? Reaaal Corny, Ben…. Real Corny}

Potato Of The Day Episode 54

elopingmelonIf you really start to look at them, you’ll find that cantaloupes are wonderfully unique creatures. There’s their twine-like, hardened skin, tough and uninviting. There’s their brilliant pumpkin insides, a pulsating orange mess of seeds and pulp, a dangling silly string ball of intestines. And there’s the name itself, cantaloupe, British in spelling, American in popularity, tinged with a first syllable of such negativity. CANT-a-loupe. How does something so wildly appreciated in breakfasts and fruit salads get dinged with a name like that? Its closest friend in the whole world, muskmelon, got stung by the same naming bee. Musk. Yeah, that’s appetizing. Why do we hurt our melon’s self-esteem like that? Why do we brand them such awful names? Who’s to say a cantaloupe deserves treatment like that?

Even the way we physically display cantaloupes leaves a lot to be desired. We stack these hardened, round fruit eggs up in large grocery store pyramids, making them totter and balance for our amusement. Why do we try to mold their shapes? Why do we force everything to be something it’s not? Can’t a sphere just be a sphere? Enough with the melon pyramids and square boxes. Let’s build a world that better suits the melon. Let’s create an environment for a melon life worth living.

Cantaloupes are soft, delicate creatures. They just want to fit in. They just want to be loved. Yet we cast them aside, time after time, holing them up in fruit quarantine, shelving them only with melon family members, watermelon, muskmelon, honeydew. Well no more. It’s time to let cantaloupes and all their melon brethren shine. It’s time to let them smile, to dance, to be merry and free. It’s time to let them play in rounded boxes or roam freely through the countryside until it’s their choice to be eaten. It’s time to let our cantaloupes find love, not just of life, but in themselves and each other. Who are we to take love away from our melons? Who are we to say they can’t pair off with Galias or Crenshaws? Who are we to say a cantaloupe can’t elope?

Love our CAN-aloupes. And let them love each other. The world can always use a little more love.