The Genie Smelled Of Liquor

Aladdin could see immediately that the genie was intoxicated. The smell of alcohol wafting throughout the smoke that preceded the genie's manifestation from the magic lamp was enough of a foreshadowing that things were about to go South very quickly.

The genie stood before Aladdin, swaying drunkenly and attempting to focus his bloodshot eyes.
"I am the genie of the lamp" he slurred, following this proclamation with a loud belch.
He was a powerfully-built genie, sporting a scruffy, black beard, large belly and puffy, heavy-lidded eyes. He resembled the type of brute that might appear in an Italian horror film circa 1978, but was dressed more like a break dancer from the 1980s in his puffy, pink pants, red vest and yellow turban. Sometimes the genie wore a blue baseball cap on which was printed his trademark catch phrase: "I am the genie of the lamp".

Aladdin began to regret calling upon his thuggish, magical servant. He would be in no mood to grant wishes in his intoxicated state.
The genie stumbled forward, attempting to keep his balance. Losing this battle of equilibrium, he finally crashed forward into a table, spewing fruit and wine in all directions. He landed flat on his fleshy face, emitting a deep moan as he faded into unconsciousness.

The End.

There Will Be Mayonaise

Being one possessed of a single-minded sense of purpose, I toiled for years in the mayonaise mines of Wilkinson Hollow...hoping to strike a rich vein. Determined to find my fortune in rich, creamy pools of "white gold" I worked my fingers to the bone sun up to sundown....with my skeletonized hands I dug at the rocky earth, seeking the condiment of the gods....the stuff of which dreams are made...mayonaise!
during my trials and tribulations as a would-be mayonaise baron and full blown alcoholic, I did ponder certain thoughts that had been nagging me...like a mosquito buzzing in my ear:

1.) "Twinkie"...what a funny word

2.) Cleavage = Good

3.) A puppeteer is like God with little, fake, wooden people

4.) It must be fucking hot inside a bear costume

5.) Joe Besser sucked as one of the Three Stooges

6.) Why was there a griffin down in the caves in "The Golden Voyage Of Sinbad"?

7.) It would be cool to be Fu Manchu next Halloween

8.) I should of bought that DVD of "Werewolves On Wheels" for seven bucks.

9.) I always thought doing magic tricks was sort of gay

A Chocolate Martian For Rothchild

Who doesn't love a nice Zinger? Not a snappy joke....I mean the delicious snack cake from Dolly Madison. Ahhhh Dolly Madison....not only the inventor of the Zinger but also an American First Lady (1809-1817). Impressive!...Dolly Madison...the name sounds like something you might buy off a rack in a sex toy shop...so does "Zinger" for that matter...but we aren't here to discuss inflatable Dolly Madisons or the Zingers to probe them with...we are here, for better or worse, to discuss the rather odd birthday present you delivered to Gaylord Rothchild, III on his 40th...the big "4-O"....

Do you honestly believe that a partially-eaten, chocolate Martian wrapped in green tin foil was the wisest choice? And did you really have to swill 5, 40 ounce bottles of Country Club Malt Liquor in his "honor"? Your rapid decent into a drunken frenzy was nothing short of horrifying...the children will never recover...well, not unless someone invents a cure for death. Did you really have to kill the children? And no, to belatedly answer your question, we had never seen the movie, "When A Stranger Calls".

I'm afraid your "generous" offer of free banjo lessons is hardly going to smooth things over....your behavior was inexcusable...and the fact that you happened to be wearing a Creature From The Black Lagoon Costume at the time (for God knows what reason) does not make you unaccountable for your inebriated shenanigans!
You should be ashamed of yourself....if you were even capable of being such...which you obviously are not

Baby Daddy Loves Him Some Klingons

As the pulsating beat of that watershed classic, "Disco Duck", permeated the cloying, smoky atmosphere of the roller disco, I paused briefly to adjust the cucumber inside my tight, gold, silk shorts. It had fallen lopsided to the left and my efforts to keep the fleshy fruit protruding straight forward were being constantly thwarted by the swaying of my hips to the funky disco beat.

Alas, this was not resulting in the sweaty orgy that I had hoped would commence in the back of my customized Chevy Van by 9 pm. Not even my offers of a free breast and or buttock massage were having any effect on the foxy ladies. Some of them even asked me why I constantly referred to myself in the third person...to which I always answered, "Because Jerry likes the name, Jerry, Baby! WOOOOOOO!" One chick even tried to remove the pantie hose from my head, claiming I was "That dickhead from the ladies' room at the drive in".
Perhaps I shouldn't have replaced the wheels of my roller skates with Libby's pudding cups. One of them burst open on the rink and splashed chocolate pudding everywhere, causing several people to slip and fall.

The Case Of The Chewy Underpants

As I donned the Colonel Sanders mask and removed my clothing, it occurred to me that this was not going to be just any ordinary day...I had already eaten an entire "pest strip" covered in a black mass of dead houseflies and washed it down with a can of paint thinner. Funny how two hits of PCP can really steer one's morning in a whole new, unexpected direction.

Here I was crouching naked in a closet with an axe, hiding from what I had come to call "The blueberry ghost monster man with that chicken thing growing out of its head"...hence the Colonel Sanders mask...I figured I could at least attempt to put the fear of God into the "chicken thing"..if not "The blueberry ghost monster man"....in any case...neither was going to get me without a fight.

I attempted to call in sick for work this morning but all I managed to leave on the voicemail system was some screaming gibberish about a werewolf with rattlesnakes coming out of its eye sockets and how I had trapped it inside the toilet. It had shrunk at one point so that it could attempt to crawl inside of my brain via my right ear...that was when I had trapped it inside the toilet bowl.

Maybe I can convince the dragon that keeps popping out of the oven to come to my aid...or the magical Chinaman who's floating above the hamper in the master bedroom.

A Personal Matter

I am addicted to posting ridiculous fake personal ads in the "Men Seeking Women" section of Craig's List. Something about seeing such ridiculous gibberish posted on a public forum cracks me up. I can post these things all day long and never get tired of how funny it all seems next to the Burning Man dickweeds trying to get laid. Here are a few recent posts :

Man With Tuba Up Butt Can Make Funny Sounds For Lady

Reply to: <pers-776531801@craigslist.orgDate: 2008-07-30, 2:20PM

Let's get "Jiggy Wit it" Baby! You and me! We'll tie the knot...preferablly in our underwear...furry underwear.....with wodden shoes on so we can go "Clickity click...clickity click" like the little Dutch Boy on the paint can. I'll rub your breasts with lemons and feed you handfuls of beef jerky under the stars. I have seen it in my magic eight ball...tis our destiny....that we may rub our privates with mayonaise and dance the dance of the elves...here...smell my shoe.... The pickles are in the cellar and are ready for Granny's barn dance. Here...closely examine this painting of a zerba I painted while in the "joint"...notice anything strange about it?...I mean...aside from the fact that it has Adolf Hitler's head and is wearing clown shoes...

Wacky Guy in HiIlary Clinton Mask Seeks Girl Who Smells like Mildew

Reply to: <pers-733661287@craigslist.orgDate: 2008-06-26, 12:48PM

And then, just when Beepo, the little hispanic boy thought he was safe, the men in the dragon constume attacked! Grrrrrr! they growled..."We are the dragon of Aganogonwogga!"....The Mushroom people tried to help little Beepo but the dangerous cannibals inside the dragon costume had biten his legs and arms and head off...leaving only his torso. Such a sad day for young Beepo. The Taco Titan cried tears of sadness as the man in the bow tie beat him with many varieties of dead fish...a yah, the Lord did speak..."Do unto pinheads as the ventriloquist doth do to thyne concert pianists"...and the clouds did part...and the angels did eat paste. Cluck cluck goes the chicken when milkman doth singith his milkman's creed! Let me take you away from all of this pain and sadness and sexual frustration...to a magic land where people walk upside down and skunks are 8 feet long and wear vampire capes and eat elderly people who are too slow to make it to the underground shelter when the alarms are triggered.. All hail the second-rate Charlie Chaplin impersonator! Long may he reign! I love you! Now lets take off all of your clothes..here..put on this Fu Manchu costume

Wiggly, Jiggly Vasaline-covered Tyrant seeks Inflatable Woman

Reply to: <pers-733492218@craigslist.orgDate: 2008-06-26, 10:44AM

look! Up in the sky! It's a goddamn flyin' nazi! Holy cow! Let us swim in rivers of chocolate and prance in the fields of hot dog trees! Don't mind my Mr. Peanut Costume...it comes with the job. It's a beautiful day and love is in the air....at least I think it's love...it smells I bit like bum urine...but I'm sure that will pass. Did you cry when Bambi's mother was shot? Did you guffaw when Jerry Lewis said "Hoivin!" Let us paint the town plaid and steal the dentures of the elderly so that we each have really big teeth....and with our big, elderly teeth we shall bite the children who travel through the warbrobe to Narnia... Ahhhh Narnia...where the Yetis dance and the Dentists paint unflattering portraits of Jack Palance! What joys this world offers.. Let us seize the day as we seize each others private parts so that we may "get jiggy wid it" let me rub mayonaise in your hair and bathe you in cheap vodka, my darling

Pregnant Half Chicken Man seeks Woman with Hitler Moustache

Reply to: <pers-733463667@craigslist.orgDate: 2008-06-26, 10:23AM

Hello all you sexy, saucy ladies..my name is ROLO..and I'm an affectionate, sword-swallowing, fetus-juggling Genie...yes the Genie of the lamp...here to grant your every sexual wish..(gong sound effect) Like that one about the Ostrich egg....or the Bowling pin and chocolate bar fantasy. Come on Baby! Let me shiver yer timbers! Let me bolt your doors and lock your windows! Let me be the Popeye to your Olive Oyl...Let me stick a yam up your butt... This is the sound a choo choo train makes : Chuga chuga chuga Woo woo! Oh no! Jimmy wrote his name in feces on the wall again! Uh Oh Juuuuungo! Yours truly, Malcom Q. Douchebag, Esquire

Strange Man In Leather Thong And Cowboy Hat Wants To Touch Your Butt

Reply to: <pers-776714905@craigslist.orgDate: 2008-07-30, 4:47PM

Hey there all you SEXY LADIES!!!!!! WWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! They call me "Big Freddy". "They" being the voices in my head. You may have seen me out near Pico's Taco Stand...I was the guy dressed as the big taco waving to cars. Yep...that was me...the one with melted chocolate all over his lips. Do you believe in Sasquach? I've seen him...up yonder in Northern California. Do you like my thong? I think it makes me look like a sexual gladiator...ready for the conquest! GRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! Go get 'em Big Freddy! It smells a little funny because of the ointment I got from the doctor...he said it would make the drips go bye bye birdie! You ever see that musical? Did it mention anything about the ointment? I love a nice big glass of rum! I'm like a pirate...but I'm like a butt pirate because I love to touch the ladies' butts...they're all round and squishy...like a big squishy thing with a crack in the middle...not like Humpty Dumpty...more like....like an octopus head...or a couple of them put really close together. I sure hope this rash goes away soon. They won't let me wear the giant taco suit until it does....puts a dent in Big Freddy's paycheck. Lets get together and make love in some bushes....I'll bring the krinkle cut french fries and you can bring the dog leash. I will talk like heep big Ingun Chief! How!

Man In Rainbow Afro Wigs Wants To Eat Fig Newtons Out Of Your Panties

Reply to: <pers-776621470@craigslist.orgDate: 2008-07-30, 3:29PM

Judge not, lest yee be judged...Is it wrong to have a strong sexual attraction to Ronald McDonald? Is is wrong to love a big-breatsed woman on stilts talking in a funny, fake Chinese accent with hilarious buck teeth in her mouth and wearing coke bottle glasses like Mickey Rooney in "Breakfast At Tiffany's"?... Is it wrong to keep a box of sticky,naked Barbie dolls under your filthy basement cot? If Momma finds them they'll be Hell to pay...you bet yo ass Joseefus! Feets don't fails me now! Do you like my tight, silky, gold shorts and mesh tank top? My tube sox are just painted on...they aren't real....go ahead...put your hand down my shorts...there's a special surprise in there...just like a box of Cracker Jacks...but this surprise is more penis-shaped.I've legally changed my name to "Twinkie McDicknose". I also play bass for a heavy Metal band called "Whiplash Chicken"...we shread! Who doesn't love a nice soap box derby?

Baby Man Rub Lady with Chocolate? Put Twinkie in Butt?

Reply to: <pers-776649899@craigslist.orgDate: 2008-07-30, 3:52PM

Jerry Lewis Impersonator: NIIIIICCCEEEE LLAAADYYYYY!!!! HOIVEN!

Woman in Milk Maid Outfit: Hey Honeychild...how you like THESE CANS? (Car horn sound effect and slide whistle)

Jerry Lewis Impersonator: OHHHHHHHHH FEEELLLLS FUNNY FEELING IN MY UNDERPANTSEN IN THE TROUSERS OF THE THING! HOIVEN!

Enter Man dressed as Hilter.

Man Dressed as Hilter : Is it hot in here or am I just dressed like Hitler? (Uproarious laughter from laugh track)

The narrator, dressed as Mark Twain, turns to the audience with a bit of homespun wisdom.

Narrator/Mark Twain : This play is like a baby covered in mayonaise...all slippery, and squeally and craps in its diapers and has an over-sized head.

Shot of audience looking puzzled at this last statement. Narrator/Mark Twain grunts like an ape, reaches into his pants and pulls out a handful of feces which he heaves at the disgusted audience members. Curtain lowers The End

(This last one was flagged as inappropriate and removed)

Weird Guy Holding Tiolet Brush Wants To Buy You A Drink You Sexy Thang - 37 (SOMA / south beach)

Well Chim Chiminey Chim Chim Churee, fancy meeting you here after all these drinks. I wore my yellow overalls with no shirt as you requested, my fair lady....see...I really DO have that much hair on my back....and on my buttocks as well....it hides the pimples and boils....as well as those pesky ticks. You may wonder why I am wearing this rubber Medusa Mask...well I thought it would help hide the scars...and help cover the bad breath. I wore the name tag so you would know my name is "Magic Charlie". I got that nickname because I pull all kinds of things out of my pants....weird things...sticky things...like puppets....and lumps of peanut butter covered in pubic hair. It's just a talent I suppose. My friend Earl says I should charge addmission to see me perform...but I'm not that charming...at least not without the funny light up Jesus thing that I bought in the Mission.. Do you like hot dogs? I can buy you one...if we can find a hot dog stand...I'll even wash my hands. I don't do that for just anybody...but you're a foxy momma...love that cleavage....I'd like to put tomato paste on your boobs and refer to them as "tomatas"...that would be funny...I would laugh at that..."tomatas"...you know...like "Tomatoes" but with a New York accent...that would be funny. I could charge admission to that....I'm funny...everyone thinks so. Hey look! There's free gum on the bottom of my shoe! SCORE!

Nutty Italian Organ Grinder with Monkey Seeks Lady With Big Boobs

Reply to: <pers-776497976@craigslist.orgDate: 2008-07-30, 1:55PM

Hey! Attsa Some-a Spicey Meat-a balla! You like-a Peppi ? Do you know the Lyrics to Casper The Freindly Ghost's theme song? If so...may I remove your nightgown and drip candle wax on your rather hairy buttocks? EWWW! You know you have a growth that resembles a starfish growing on your ass? Ever milked a cow? How about a midget? A cruel midget...the kind who steals from the blind...and throws bowling pins at the elderly.. Do you smell Onions?

Color Me Blood Red

On Friday July 11th 2008, my movie partner in crime, Rick Popko and I premiered our latest disgusting exploitation opus: "RetarDEAD" at The Victoria Theatre in San Francisco. This gore-soaked zombie flick is actually the sequel to the equally revolting "Monsturd" which premiered at the Victoria in June of 2002. Yes...it actually took six years to make a sequel to movie about a monster made of shit. A sequel which involves special ed students, a serial sex offender, a mayor with a big breast fetish and an a LSD ring being operated in an elementary school. When singing for our supper during the Q&A session after the movie, we were asked such questions as "What did you make the vomit out of?" and "How many gallons of blood did you go through for the movie?"..or the more probing, "What kind of sick bastards are you?"

In homage to our exploitation forefathers, the team of Herschell Gordon Lewis and David F. Friedman, we handed out air sick bags adorned with the movie's poster art. Both Mr. Lewis and Mr. Friedman were kind enough to be minimally involved with the flick, Herschell providing the opening narration and Dave appearing briefly in an on-screen cameo. Thus we become a footnote in the filmographies of two exploitation legends. The two men who presented the world, for better or worse, with the first full-fledged, in-your-face, gore film: "Blood Feast" (1963). Being a "sick bastard", I tend to romanticize the golden age of exploitation and hope that the lineage of showmanship continues when two douche bags like Rick and myself can shoot a low budget gore epic, give it an eyebrow raising, slightly off-color title and get that thing four-walled, tub thumped and up on theatre marquee for all to see. You can call us "hacks" and "Schlockmeisters" but you can't deny our dedication. Since we began making features, the pair of us have been called every name you could think of for the type of subject matter we choose to exploit and this didn't come as any surprise to either of us. You can't make a movie titled, "Monsturd" without SOMEONE calling you an asshole...no matter how hard you tried to deliver an entertaining, if not entirely tasteful motion picture. Call us anything but "lazy"....because I can assure you no matter what you want to call me, chances are I've been called it before...and not just for making these movies...but I challenge any "Armchair Spielberg" out there who thinks they can do better to top getting a movie with "turd" in the title into Blockbuster Video. Different strokes for different folks as they say. Some people are simply more entertained by Troma's "Citizen Toxie" than Welles' "Citizen Kane". So sometimes I prefer John Waters over John Houston...sue me.