Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor

Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.

John Kerry Now Vying For The Oompa Loompa Vote


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Desperation Is A Stinky Cologne. But by all means, sing along.

Oompa Loompa doompadee doo,

I’ve got another puzzle for you.

Oompa Loompa doompadah dee.

Stop staring at his daughters and listen to me.

Four purple hearts is a bit of a stretch,

“Reporting for Duty” has made us all retch.

What now – will you just run for office in France?

Or is Teresa still wearing the pants?

You’ll get no – You’ll get no,

You’ll get no – You’ll get no,

You’ll get no Air Force One!

Oompa Loompa Doompadee Dack,

Maybe you can have your old sennett job back.

And please bring Ben Affleck to France with you too,

Like the Oompa Loompas doompadee do!

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30 Tall Tales #4: A Funny Little Drinking Problem.


in Heartwarming

This is a fairly short story, and the humor will probably be lost on people who don’t know us and weren’t there to see it. But the folks involved still tell this story all the time – and it never ceases to send us careening into fits of laughter. I will try very hard to do it justice here, and make it palatable to the masses. That having been typed and just re-read, this is never going to work. Sigh.

It was a Saturday in 2001. Chris Cornett, John Henry, Dave Kingman and I had been drinking. Heavily. All day. They drove in to North Station in Boston and met me at a bar called The Fours which is right across from the Fleet Center. We convened around 4 p.m., ate, drank and were merry. If, by merry, you mean falling down obnoxiously, sickeningly and most dangerously drunk. Around 9 p.m. we left the safety of Canal Street and wandered back towards downtown.

Over the next five hours we hit a veritable bevvy of bars during our travels, and inexplicably wound up a mile away at the Black Rose. Everything was beginning to shut down, the band started packing up their stuff and it became obvious this would be our last stop of the evening. John ventured out and returned with 4 pints of God-knows-what and we settled in, if only for a few fleeting moments.

Chris, who made the rest of us look stone-cold-priest-sober, turned to me with a bent, unlit cigarette in his mouth and inquired “Hey hasshhh you gotsa light budday?” I shook my head and Chris swung around and headed towards two women who were standing nearby. His motor skills were fading fast, and I’d like to describe his gait as “shakey”, but I’ll settle for “picture what Quasimodo would look like if he was drunk and had just crapped himself.” I looked over at John and Dave who were staring right at him with unmistakable “this is going to be good” smirks on their faces.

Chris addressed his quarry: “Hello ladiesshhh!” They looked a little taken aback, but saw the rest of us standing nearby and relaxed when they realized there were liquor-wranglers ready to step in. Chris motioned to the unlit cigarrette hanging from his mouth. One of the women asked if he needed a light, to which Chris replied with a violent nod of his head. The cigarette sufficiently fired up, he took a haul, blew it out right in their faces and proceeded to speak.

“I’ve got… problemssshhh.” he began.

“Alcohol problems?” the woman replied, a sincere look of concern washing over her face.

“That’s one of them!”

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Not Envying Mark David Chapman.


in

“I really didn’t want his signature, I wanted his life. And I ended up taking both.”

Mark Chapman shot and killed John Lennon outside the Dakota apartment building in NYC on December 9th, 1980. Chapman had been lurking most of the evening and had gotten Lennon to sign a copy of Double Fantasy while he was leaving. Several hours later, John and Yoko returned and Chapman, who had been waiting patient/insanely shot him five times with a .38 revolver. Chapman calmly waited to be arrested, Lennon died on the way to the hospital to be admitted instead to the morgue, and New York City rallied in stunned silence around the crime scene.

Chapman has now been in jail for 25 years – as long as he was old when the murder took place – and has a parole hearing on October 4th. Glad to see he put the time to good use in the weight room. Officials are worried that if parole is granted, Chapman will face the wrath of Lennon fans still angry and unwilling to give peace a chance after a quarter of a century.

Why do they fear for Chapman’s safety? Let’s start with the fact that there are a myriad of international websites calling for his immediate execution. People all over the world are waiting with itchy trigger fingers, and cyanide-soaked copies of Catcher in the Rye, for Mark David Cartman.. er… Chapman – to be released into their clutches.

You know what they call that? Instant Karma.

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Migrating From Blogger To WordPress.


in Pye in the Face

Big changes are imminent at davepye.com if you remotely care. I’ve been turned on to a new publishing program called WordPress, and am subsequently sold on the idea of jumping the Blogger ship. It’s more complicated, clunkier and difficult in terms of graphic design – but so much more versatile. If I roll up my sleeves, learn some code and make it happen, it’ll make this site a lot more fun and dynamic for everyone who surfs it daily.

So if my blog entries become less frequent, you know why. Bear with me.

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The Best Funny Corny Cheesy Pick-Up Lines


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This my 80th post. Wow. To all the non-believers out there, I guess I’m officially blogtastic. Or bloginine. Or a blogiot. Or whatever. Anyways, in keeping with this article’s questionable beginning so far, I found an enormous archive of cheesy, corny and funny pick-up lines. I have painstakingly read through them all (There’s about 500) and selected the best of the worst. And hey – it’s Saturday. So get out your notebooks boys and try spitting some of these tonight.

>> Are you a parking ticket? (What?) You got fine written all over you.

>> Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?

>> My name is ____. Remember it, bcause you’ll be screaming it later.

>> Did you hear the latest health report? You need to up your daily intake of vitamin ‘me’.

>> Don’t walk into that building — the sprinklers might go off!

>> Giant polar bear (What?) It broke the ice.

>> You’ve been a bad girl/boy. Go to my room.

Alright, so maybe they’re not all that and a bag of chips. I used to teach pick-up lines (particularly #3) to an 8-year-old I knew when I was a bartender at The Hind’s Head of Bray in England. Then I’d set him loose on the female populous of the pub. It was really funny. Until one afternoon he started trying them out on his mother, who was also my boss.

I got the Sunday morning shift that week.

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