Splash, Boom, Bang

My fine hometown.
Working harder than any other to entertain its citizens.
Searching the globe for quality amusements and well...

The 2008 Red Bull Flugtag!


The idea here is to push your homemade flying machine off of a 20 foot high ramp and see how far it will fly.
The problem here is that they held the competition in the "freak show state", which ruled out the common sense factor. See, most of the "flying machines" did not even have wings.

Seems that would have made a checklist......somewhere.

The first thing flew like a 100'. It did have wings. They won. Go figure.
After that, the contest was a plunkfest.
42 piece of crap go carts being shoved off a cliff.
That's not entertainment - that's gravity.

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Next up....

Criss Angels Mindfreak!
Even closer to home, Clearwater Beach.

Take this dork-

Handcuff him to a railing on the 3rd floor of hotel -

Set the timer for 4 minutes - then blow up the hotel.

Seemed like a brilliant plan. But it turns out, dork is a magician.

Oh no! Lock pick thingy no worky! Oh no! Took too long, now helicopter ride on roof has to leave him!

The suspense makes it hard to even breathe. Wait, no it's not the suspense, it's the damn dust.

He must be magic. He must have said hocus-pocus. He must have known where the back stair was.

_____________________________

After all that, the city has redeemed itself...

Coheed and Cambria...

After going 0 for 2, they owed me...big. So they lured my friends from NY with the promise of cheap t-shirts, salt water taffy and painted sea shells, - just for me.

You owe me too. ----------------->click

The Power of "duuh."

I don't exactly know when I became the smartest guy on the jobsite.
Maybe it's my quick wit and stunningly studious good looks.
Or maybe it's my "I'm with Stupid" t-shirt.
I can't be sure.

Whatever the reason, I've become some sort of stupid question vacuum.
A dumb-ass information booth where mindless wandering nimwads, stop and check in.
It's driving me nuts.

But now I have a new weapon.

One simple word that eliminates the stress of processing stupidity.
A single syllable which can send 'em away scratching their empty skull cavity in utter speechlessness---


"DUUH"



I have set my mind free!
No more searching through my few remaining brain cells for an undeserved answer!
No further thought processes to fathom insane inquiries!

"Damon, should we install a LOCKING knob on the bathroom door?"

--Last week- "No jackass, in the true interest of privacy, we've decided to install the toilet in the middle of the driveway."

--This week- "duuh."

See how this works? I am cruisin the construction zones with a crapload of 'duuh' strapped to my hip like a gunslinger.

"Damon, do you want all the garbage thrown in the dumpster?"

-- Last week- " Not this time braindead, load it up in your car until it reeeeaalllly starts to stink. Then drive to the dump and leave your car there."

--This week- (simply) - "duuh."

It works for anything, and has nooo comeback.
Just a priceless blank expression-


If you choose to use the 'duuh', be careful.
It does have it's limits.

Officer --"Do you know how fast you were going?"
Young Pa-duuh-wan learner--" You're the one with the radar gun, duuh."

You gotta be careful and not abuse the 'duuh' and all it's powers.
A wise man once said:
The power of duuh, is a curious thing.
Make-a one man weep, make another man sing.
Change a hawk, to a little white dove.
More than a feeling, that's the power of "duuh."


*Damon, where do we click to vote for you? Right over there --> "duuuh."

It's all about the bacon, my brothers

I've been searching the internet for the perfect man-meal.

Something we all can appreciate.
Something every man, regardless of age, race, or super-hero preference, can say they agree on.

.......and I found it.

Enjoy.

The salad.
Served up in a bowl - made of - you guessed it - bacon.
How can it be unhealthy? It is a salad!

The appetizer.
Bacon wrapped... well ,anything. Who gives a crap. Bacon rules.

The Entree.

I will not ruin this glorious moment with commentary. Look at it. Take it all in. I present to you...

Bacon cheeseburgers served on a Krispy Kreme donut bun.

Dessert.
And because you have not yet had all the greasy, fatty, goodness, you deserve.....
Oooooh yeah,
Chocolate covered bacon.


Oh no. That's not where it all ends.
You're gonna need a little somethin' extra.
Somethin' to get that lettuce and chocolate smell off your breath.

...and you know I found that too.

Click here and vote!

DRINKS ARE ON ME

I don't think I like being told by my local drinking establishment when to be happy.
Sometimes I go in, not happy at all.
And 2 for 1 draft beer and well drinks, ain't gonna change that.

#1. I hate draft beer.
#2. They call them 'well' drinks, because, well, they suck.

I, for one , am not putting the timing of my oh so fragile emotions in the hands of an industry that purposely sets their clocks wrong, and calls 4pm - 7pm happy 'hour'.
That's three hours, and if you drink well drinks for three hours, well, you won't be happy, you'll be sick. Or maybe, you're lucky enough to find a bar with "happy hour" all day Sunday.
Once again, what the bartender wrings out of a rag and serves up as half priced, all day on a Sunday, will have you yackin clear through Tuesday.

So, in Damons Drunkatorium, (that's my bar name, if I had a bar) we're gonna cover all the reasons you're in a bar.
Happy or not.

"Slightly Peeved and Perterbed Hour" - You get 60 minutes to drink your way into a memory lapse to forget the weeks stupidity. I got to go with Captain Morgan & Coke on this one.

"Emphatically Euphoric and Delighted Hour"- We'll serve up that fu-fu garbage happy people all love. Pitchers of 'fuzzy navels' or 'sex-on-the-beach' should shut 'em up.

"Crazed and Out of Your Freakin Mind Hour"- Tequila shots aaaaaalll around. Buenos noches, mi amigo.

"Anxiety and Paranoia Hour"- I figure an Irish Coffee should fill the bill. I'm pretty sure the alcohol and the caffeine cancel each other right out. Just like the voices in your head. And if it doesn't, you won't worry about being seen leaving the bar with who's left at 2 am.

"Lonely and Depressed Hour"- Just for fun, I've decided to 2 for 1 draft beer is painfully appropriate. You know, that tear in your beer thing. Oh, and each table will only have one chair, so you can sit alone in all your solitary pathetic glory.

"Totally Ticked Hour"- This could be scary. I'll have to post a disclaimer (and an armed guard). With a bar full of angry workin stiffs and enraged alcoholics, I'm servin, you guessed it, Jack Daniels and Grand Marnier. Just wind 'em up and watch 'em go.

Note : Dart league cancelled during "totally ticked hour".

Bunch more drunks over at humor-blogs.

This is how we do it

Keepin it simple. Keepin me sane.
Rock Solid Household advice.
Time saving tips.
Words to live by.

In my kingdom, the only breakfast question is, "Do you want your Pebbles -Fruity or Cocoa?"
Simplicity- at it's finest.

If it's growing in the yard, and it's green, it stays.
If it's growing in the 'fridge, and it's green, it goes.

The spaghetti is done when all the boiling water is gone.
No need for pesky timers.

The pork chops are done when the smoke detector goes off.
Once again, no pesky timer.

In the case where dinner is not pork or pasta,
dinner is ready when the first kid says, "Oh man, not Helper again."

Clean the kids rooms with a rake.
What you get is laundry, what you miss is garbage.

Whites go in hot, colors go in cold. That's it.
All them other knobs and settings don't do anything.

When the kids are good, take them for ice-cream.
When they're bad, take them to Home Depot.

Buy a Swiffer-Vac for the wood floors.
Just do it. It's awesome.

Entertaining the little nose-pickers doesn't need to be expensive.
Just last night we played a rousing game of "find the smell."
Fun, free, ...and necessary. (Believe me.)

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Click this and vote. Remember to jam your cursor down the throat of the big smiley!

How do you train to eat wieners?

Jammin wieners down your throat is not only a sport, it's a competition.
..and it makes mama so proud.
Billed as "The Rematch II - this time it's personal," because, let's face it, what's more personal than a guy who can swallow more weenie than you.

Apparently ESPN could find no other sport worthy of airtime ( I guess there was no spelling bee or cheerleading competition goin on) and decided that the gluttony on Coney Island should draw those high ratings they've been dreamin of.

These 2 skinny dudes both managed to cram 55 (that's fifty freakin five) tube shaped whoknowswhatsintheres down their gullets in 10 minutes. Forcing a 5 dog frank-off.

...And we have a winner, Joey Chestnut.

Better at eatin wienies than any fat guy in our country.

Better than any woman, at crammin meat in - and swallowin it down.

He defeated his arch nemesis Kobayachi, who blames an arthritic jaw for his downfall. (I thought getting 'turf-toe' in football was weird, but this just proves that EVERY sport has its injuries!)

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Just a bit of advice, from one dog to another, Joey. You may not want to make your accomplishments known on say, a trip to Key West or San Francisco. You would get a waaay different reception than you're expecting.

And if you're ever incarcerated, put the hush-hush on the gobblin skills.

'cause no one likes a bragger.

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Keep humor-blogs funny - click here - then click on the smiley!!!

A Dream with a Hole

The store was a mess,

from the workmen you see,

A Dunkin' Donuts kiosk,

being installed - just for me.

The weeks flew past,

as I awaited the day,

that creme-filled goodness,

would be here to stay.

That day was today,

and with much anticipation,

this store now was much more,

than just a gas station.

Sweet greatness by the dozen,

hot goodness by the cup,

I'm gettin' 9 donuts,

I hope they stocked up.

As I skipped through the doors,

like a pastry explorer,

not a donut in sight,

(imagine the horror).

No colorful sprinkles,

no chocolate eclaire,

no wonderin' how,

the creme gets in there.

They're just sellin' coffee,

they think they're Starbucks,

but without any bearclaws,

I think this just sucks.

They hurt me this mornin',

they shattered a dream,

next time there's a choice,

.....I'll buy Krispy Kreme.

If you've ever been slighted, and know of my plight,

Then just click on this, and the world will be right.