Here's a very touching, poignant song I wrote a few years back.  OK, that's a lie.  I wrote the lyrics a few years back as a goof and wrote a melody tonight and recorded it.  Submitted for your disapproval.

I Done Et a Toad

Fine print: Copyright J. Martine 2009. 

Came across this whilst looking for a cell phone.

I'm seriously considering making an offer as I am looking for a phone that has nothing to do with apes.  My last phone was primate and the cost of bananas was a serious problem.  Also, as you can see by the picture of the phone he does not have a picture of the phone.

You just can't make this stuff up.  Well, I can but the real stuff is gold.

Editors Note: I'm serious.  My last cell phone was a Samsung V2 Ring-tailed Lemur.  It was a good deal but when I got it home and tried to dial a number it bit me and shrieked.  It ran all over the house and shit on everything.  I had to shoot it and those pricks at Verizon would NOT issue a refund.

I posted something today that I originally thought was kind of funny.

It wasn't.  It was stupid, insensitive and had the potential to hurt.  I apologize to anyone who read it and was offended.

So I'm driving home from work tonight.  Busy highway.  I hit a slow pack of cars and can see a quarter of a mile up ahead.  Brown car....turn signal on for the next two miles...going 55 tops in a 65 zone during rush hour.  3 miles... I can make out that it's a circa 1980 something Dodge Aries K...the color of unhealthy feces. 

4 miles....I overtake the K.  The driver looked exactly as I imagined he would. 

Exactly.

I also know that this man's house smells like slightly spoiled lunch meat.  Trust me on this one.

This one time I saw an ad in the paper for "Free Range Chicken" at the grocery store.  I'd never tried range chicken before but thought "what the hell, it's free".

Man, was I disappointed.

The boy is getting a lizard for his birthday.  I think reptiles are pretty cool and so does he.  I suspect Maggie the yellow lab will think they are delicious and I have every confidence that we will eventually find out. 

Do the math.

When I was a kid I tried to gross out my brother by telling him that there was a dead fly in his fruit salad. It didn't bother him in the least but I succeeded in grossing myself out and ultimately threw up on the kitchen floor.  My mother was not pleased.

Yeah, after 2 years that's all I've got.

Designer dogs.  Hate 'em.  What's that?  They're "hybrids?".  Screw you Biff, they're mutts.  Go to the pound, pay your 50 dollars and act like a man.  "This here dog is a pound dog....it eats cockapoos".  That's the kind of gritty Joe Bagadoughnuts, fat-guy off the rack sensibility your humble author can relate to.

Just for the record: I can't stand yer labradoodle, puggle, yorkipoo, hamstershund, chickenbernard, shnoodle, any dog cross-bred with a shih tzu (reigning "Gheyest Dog on the Planet"), shnorkie, maltipoo, antelopoodle, pugapoo, non-descript--tiny-bodied-over-sized-head-google-eyed-freak-of-nature-overpriced-but-you're-willing-to-pay-1000-smackers-because-you're -a-tool dog.

For the record...I own a weiner dog and a yellow lab.  Neither is superior to a mutt but damnit, call a mutt a mutt.

There, I feel better.  As you were.

(note: each line is followed by the classic blues riff "ba da da da dum")

mmmm.. gots some mojo workin'
got a piece o some pie
got a big oozin' chancre
and a case of pink eye
gots the bad butt stank
be a funk in de air
got a small glass of cola
mixed up wid cat hair
I fell off my bar stool
landed right on my head
my lip done swell up
be all bloody and red
my hair all burnt off
in a bad accident
my intestines exploded
wid a questionable scent
got me the scabies
and I gots lime disease
I gots me some rabies
and big holes in my knees
my toenails be yellow
all crusty and hard
my old lady calls me
Jean Luc Retard
got a serious problem
wid de chronic itch
gotta get me some sandpaper
and take care o dat b...
I got me no credit
I got me no bread
I gots halitosis
no teef in my head
bow shoomy da boomy
bow oomy ba doom
bow shoomy da foomy
bow goom ba boom
(fade)

Good evening and welcome to another edition of Larry King Live!  Tonight my guests will be Buddy Hacket, Rhea Pearlman and that guy who used to paint trees on PBS.  You know, that Brillo top could paint a bunch of pine trees like nobody's business.  You can have your fancy European painters but I'll take trees over fuzzy fat naked people laying around eating cheese any day of the week.  Remember how he used to say "fire in!"?  Yeah, me either but that's what's scrolling across the teleprompter.  Let's run down my thoughts for the day. 

• Tires.  Cars wouldn't go far without 'em.
• For my money there's no better practical gift than a can of Slippo.
• I don't like the guy on camera five.  Get 'em the hell out of here.  What, he's union?  I'll see you after the show, you slack-jawed camera monkey punk.
• That reuben I had for lunch is screaming to get out of me one way or the other.  Earth, wind or fire.
• I was all jacked up on hooch at a party at Burt Reynold's place a few years back and had the misfortune of throwing up on Art Garfunkel.  He started crying and I yelled "parsley, sage, rosemary and slime you crooner wimp ".   He can throw a pretty good punch for a pasty, bald-headed singer.