Commentary - Humor - Nonsense - Sarcasm - Satire - Whimsy
On the Road with DR. EVIL
Vol. II, No. 12, 1 December 2000
A Missive of Irregular Frequency and Questionable Worth
THE
CHARLES DARWIN AWARD
I extend my appreciation to one of my readers for alerting me to the Charles Darwin Award some years ago. It is an annual honor presented posthumously to the person or persons who do the world's gene pool the greatest service by exterminating themselves in the most extraordinarily stupid way -- and thus preventing reproduction in kind.
He, and later another reader, sent me an account of a particularly "juicy" recent winner. It was about some character who made the mistake of giving an enema to a badly constipated elephant -- to his odiferous demise.
We are usually informed of the winners, but how about the Runners Up? Strictly speaking, the following does not qualify since the tale is not a posthumous one. However, because of the nature of the resulting handicap of one of the protagonists, there will, at least, be a limited number of offspring. So, here's the Runner Up for 1998.
Two men were injured when
their pick-up truck left the road and struck a tree near Cotton
Patch, Arkansas, on State Highway 38 early one Monday morning.
Woodruff County deputy Dovey Snyder reported the accident shortly
after midnight. Thurston Poole, 33, of Des Arc and Billy Ray
Wallis, 38, of Little Rock were admitted at Baptist Medical
Center. The accident occurred as the two men were returning to
Des Arc after a frog gigging trip, when Poole's pick-up truck
headlights malfunctioned. The two men concluded that the
headlight fuse in the old truck had burned out. Unfortunately,
they did not have a replacement. Then Wallis noticed that one of
the .22 caliber cartridges from his pistol fit perfectly into the
fuse slot next to the steering column. Upon inserting the
cartridge, the headlights again began to operate properly and the
two men proceeded east-bound toward the White River bridge. After
traveling approximately twenty miles and just before crossing the
river, the cartridge case apparently overheated, causing the
round to discharge, striking Poole in the right testicle. The
vehicle swerved sharply off the pavement and struck a tree. Poole
suffered only minor cuts and abrasions from the accident, but
required surgery to repair his other wound and to remove that
critical body part. Wallis sustained a broken clavicle and was
treated and released. "I've been a trooper for ten years,
but this is a first for me. I can't believe that those two would
admit how this accident happened," said deputy Snyder. Upon
being notified of the wreck, Poole's wife, Lavinia, asked how
many frogs the boys had caught and did anyone retrieve them from
the truck. All of which demonstrates what the really important
things are in life.
POOR
MR. POTATO HEAD
Following the example set by Chicago and its multicolored fiberglass cows last year, Warwick and the rest of Rhode Island placed dozens of 6-foot tall Mr. Potato Head statues around the State as part of a tourism campaign. One "Tourist Tater" was painted brown to appear as a suntanned south sea islander and wore an ill-fitting Hawaiian shirt, sun glasses and a big straw hat. It had been on display outside Warwick City Hall for four months and no one had complained - that is, until its photo appeared in a local newspaper. An East Providence affirmative action officer complained that, in the photograph, the statue resembled old time figurines, such as Little Black Sambo, portraying blacks as buffoons. Whether she did or did not actually see the statue "in the flesh" is not clear. The creator of the statues allowed as how she certainly meant no offense and that there are several others of similar and other colors. "He's a potato. That's why he's brown," she said. He was a Polynesian potato at that. Not much humor in Rhode Island so he was removed. I understand that Mt. Kilauea has been uncharacteristically violent lately.
VULGAR
ACRONYMS
I encountered some almost forgotten acronyms recently - real naughty ones. (So, if you're younger than 17, don't read any more. Bug off.) They have a military origin and all use the "F" word. Great ones like FIGMO, FUBAR and the familiar SNAFU. I'll bet you've forgotten or never knew the derivation of SNAFU. Some of you, like Mrs. Evil, may have assumed that it was a real word, meaning "things just ain't working out right." Well, yes, but for full appreciation, one has to have served in one of the branches of the Military, preferably as a grunt. It is deciphered as "Situation Normal, All F***ed Up." I can attest to its appropriateness in the Army. Then there's FIGMO, a real gem, meaning variously "F*** it, I'm Gonna Move On" or ". . . Out," or " . . . I've Got My Orders." All imply essentially the same attitude, i.e., "I couldn't care less. I'm getting out of this outfit." Of the three, FUBAR is probably the least known. I remembered the acronym, but not the meaning. My consultants tell me that it means " F***ed Up Beyond All Recognition," or ". . . Repair." Sort of reminds me of our recent presidential election.
A REAL STORAGE
By my standards, we have an honest to goodness bonafide REAL storage shed in our back yard. It isn't one of those gambrel roof prefabs on skids that you see in so many back yards and on sales lots along US Rt. 40. It's no ornament. It isn't a status symbol. Mrs. Evil and I take pride in having designed and built it ourselves. It is of the salt-box variety, with its peak set at 90 degrees and offset toward its front so that, with equal roof pitch, the back edge of the roof is only about 4 feet from the ground and the front about 8 feet. It has a porch across the front and a loft inside over the entrance. To qualify as a real storage shed it isn't sufficient that it contain the usual seasonal yard and patio furniture, garden tools, insecticides, fertilizers, lawn mower, gasoline, children's outside summer toys, a garden sprayer, and a step ladder. Like a REAL pickup truck, it must also contain an assortment of esoteric personal stuff that disengages if from the "everyday" and elevates it to a superior level. In addition to all these things that make it an ordinary shed, a REAL shed must also contain an assortment of esoteric personal stuff that render it unique - things like a pile of 100+-year-old scrap barn siding, a half bushel of acorns for sustaining squirrels during the winter, kitty litter to soak up oil drips from Mrs. Evil's 1979 Buick, a 12-foot length of 2-inch yellow plastic natural gas line, about 100 feet of garden hose without benefit of end fittings, tomato and pepper stakes (all well rotted after at least 20 seasons of use), a half empty 5-gallon can of aluminized roof coating, half of a roll of 20-year-old roll-roofing, an abandoned bird nest on a shelf with the flower pots, and all sorts of other stuff -- and lots of dirt. Unlike a REAL pickup truck, however, a REAL storage shed doesn't have to contain empty mangled beer cans.
See you at the next rest stop.
Dr. Evil
Why yes, I'm Evil.
