Monthly Archives: May 2011

Attention: Smeagol Sweat to the Main Stage

Over the Hedge

I saw Smeagol Sweat at the Duluth Middle Earth Metal Fest in ’03.   Lead pan flutist Bjorn Mourn was in rare form as he improvised his way through a jam versions of, “Ent Chipper” and “Sauron’s Conjunctivitus.”   It would have been an all time performance high for SS had not the 1/20th scale model of Shelob fallen and crushed the tambourinist Giles Nibbly.   The site of a motionless hand gripping a tambourine from under an upside down 700 pound metal spider said it all about Giles and SS’s future prospects.

Dead and deader.


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Top Five Things You Should Never Wear Under a Utilikilt

Over the Hedge

Top Five Things You Should Never Wear Under a Utilikilt

5.   He-Man Briefs (Size: Husky).

4.   The Bat Thong.

3.   Depends.

2.   A Full Moon.

1.   Delusions of Grandeur.


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The Tramps in Apartment 3G

Over the Hedge

Top  Five Trampy Things the Girls in Apartment 3G Do:

5.  Use each other’s lip glossed lips as a mirror.

4.  Carry hand stamps with their phone numbers on it.

3.  Fake tattoo eyebrows

2.  Wear pajama jeans with crocs after Labor Day

1.  Sleep with Rex Morgan MD*

*(all of them).

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Would You Friend Mary Worth?

Over the Hedge

I don’t think so.  Too nosey.  And there’s just something about her.  She’s pretty butch.  In a sex changey kind of way.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  It’s just that if she is a transsexual, she’s not exactly upfront about it.  I’m not comfortable with people (or cartoon characters) who aren’t comfortable with their sexuality.

I’m just sayin’.

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National Crazy Awareness Day

Over the Hedge

You’re not alone.

I declare today National Crazy Awareness Day.  Today we recognize what we all know to be true.  You, me and that seemingly normal lady sipping a latte at the table next to you are certifiably crazy (she harbors a secret wish to immersed in a vat of pickle relish (dill).  It’s true!).

By becoming one with our secret insanities, we can let go of our endless obsession with appearing normal and accept ourselves and our fellow men and women for the nut jobs they truly are.  Imagine a world where everyone is free to admit their grasp on reality is more of a distant wave from a fast moving clown car headed straight for Whackedville.  Out yourself today.  Don’t wait.  Open the window.  Throw back the shutters and scream, “I can’t stop tickling penguins!”

I’m right behind you.


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The One With the Tiny Elephant

Over the Hedge

Sometimes our comic makes sense.  And sometimes it takes a u-turn loop-da-loop to WTF-town.

Clearly I was drinking when I wrote this.

The elephant is cute though.


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Interview With War Dog That Helped Take Down Osama

It came to light today that a dog accompanied the Navy Seals on the raid that killed Osama bin Laden.  After an exhaustive search I have located Puddles the War Dog and he agreed to the following exclusive interview.

Q:  Congratulations.

Puddles:  Thank you.

Q:  How does it feel to help take out the most wanted man in the world?

Puddles:  It feels good.

Q:  Good like a belly rub? Or good like a base of the tail scratch.

Puddles:  Good like I did my job and served my country.

Q:  What was your role in the raid?

Puddles:  I’m a bomb sniffer and I do video recon.

Q:  What do bombs smell like?

Puddles:  Asparagus.

Q:  Walk us through the raid.

Puddles:  We choppered in on three modified stealth Black Hawks, then we were lowered into the compound.  I sniffed the area for explosives.

Q:  Nothing?

Puddles:  No explosives, but there was an overpowering odor of unwashed socks, stale pizza and marijuana.

Q:  Osama a stoner?

Puddles:  I just know what I smell.

Q:  What happened next?

Puddles:  I peed on the side of the mansion.

Q:  Marking your territory?

Puddles:  No. I just had to pee.

Q:  Continue.

Puddles:  We secured the perimeter.   Then I entered the residence to do video recon.

Q:  You entered alone?

Puddles:  That’s my job.

Q:  Unarmed?

Puddles:  I can rip your throat out and bury it before your body hits the deck.

Q:  O-kay.  Then what happened?

Puddles;  I searched the premises and found the target in the upstairs bedroom.

Q:  bin Laden?  What was he doing?

Puddles:   Watching Seinfeld on a wide screen TV.

Q:  Seinfeld?

Puddles:  The Master of My Domain episode.

Q:   Did he see you?

Puddles:  No.  The Meatlover’s Supreme he was inhaling obscured his view.

Q:  Was he alone?

Puddles:   No.  There was a woman reading Atlas Shrugged looking confused and disoriented.

Q:  Did you attack?

Puddles:  No.  My orders were not to engage the target.  I waited for the Seal team.

Q:  It must have seemed like it took forever for the Seals to get there.

Puddles:  Not really.  I was able to take a short nap.

Q:  What happened when the Seals arrived?

Puddles:  The target was taking a hit off a bong when a dozen lasers sites converged on his head.  The woman screamed and dove behind the TV set.   The target slowly turned and exhaled.

Q:  You had orders to shoot on site?

Puddles:  No.  If he surrendered, we would take him alive.

Q:  He didn’t surrender.

Puddles:  He threw bong water at us.

Q:  A clear act of resistance.

Puddles:  Twelve simultaneous kill shots right above the left eye.

Q:  So, that’s why we won’t be seeing any pictures.

Puddles:  The target was  eliminated.   The mission, a success.

Q:  Did you get a treat?

Puddles:   A little liverwurst wrapped in cheese.  But I would have done it for nothing.

Q:  You’re an American hero.

Puddles:  I’m not a hero.  I just do my job.

Q:  To protect our freedoms.

Puddles:  And for treats.


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Fire Ant Moulin Rouge

Over the Hedge

Verne’s shell was supposed to be converted into a fire ant Moulin Rogue. With a sign that says, you know: Moulin Rogue.  I guess T thought it would be obvious?   I’ve got to get ahead and get us back to doing roughs.

I like Verne’ dressed ironically in a box of Lucky Charms (the real definition of irony not the Alanis Morissette one).


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Live Nude Turtle

Over the Hedge

Verne has a no-nudity clause in his contract*

*Unless it’s integral to his part.**

**His part being defined as an ongoing object of ridicule and derision through all means necessary including, but not limited to: tripping, falling, running into things, being called, “nose face,” “mold boy” and “slug-thingy,” wedgies, spontaneous shell removal and shameless, gratuitously humiliating nudity.

Poor Verne.

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Chain Saw Diplomacy

Over the Hedge

Chain saw wielding fire ants led by a drag queen.

Over the Hedge:  Writing ourselves out on the slimmest thread of a  limb since 1995

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