Howdy, p’litickull junkies:

Here’s a great big heapin’ load’a p’litickull junk fer ya ta sift thru. Ordinarully, I ain’t one fer keepin’ track’a who’s in charge’a what where nohow, unless they’ve tabbed someone ta shadow me, but I bin put wise by Uncle Fun ta th’ big convenshun’ th’ Republickun Party iz havin’ down there in Tampax Bay. Okay, first point — where duz anyone get off callin’ anythin’ a “convenshun” when there ain’t no-one nowhere there wearin’ any fezzes?

Uncle Fun tells me th’ Demmacrats iz gonna do th’ selfsame fezzless thing next week, an’ ruin Labour Day in th’ process. Shame on all of ‘em, I say.

Now, I know a lotta people gots their problems with Republickuns…most of ‘em these days seem ta be Rebublickuns themselves. But that’s b’side th’ point. What crabs me most ‘bout this whole bunch iz th’ way they’re wastin’ one’a th’ coolest nicknames ever on a great big sack’a dullness.

Honestly — does Captain Boredom here look like he even otta havva nickname, much less a cool one like “Mitt”?

 Mitt’s th’ kinda name ya wanna see hung on a real cullerful characktur — like some Gas House Gang ballplayer frum th’ 1930s who played in a dozen er so differnt leagues an’ got banned frum baseball fer hangin’ round with a chorus girl who ran a numbers racket.

 

He’d be a backup catcher — mebbe playin’ in a platoon with some other catcher with a cullerful nickname, like Bubbles Hargrave…

…er even Bubbles Hargrave’s brother, Pinky Hargrave.

Uncle Fun sez that such a dull guy usin’ such a cool nickname iz prolly some form’a psychalogickull overcompensahun fer a deep-seated infeeriority complex.

But then, pollatishuns wood hafta be inseckure, wooden they? I mean, where else do ya get a job only after a whole mess’a people who don’t know nothin’ ‘bout whut th’ job’s all about take a vote on it?

B’sides th’ obvious, that is. That’s how they keep th’ criminally inseckure away frum th’ gen’rell populashun up in Canada, at any rate — they give ‘em publickly-funded air time.

(«« SPESHULL BONUS «« Ta show ya how much too cool fer th’ C. B. of C. we are, click on these here now blue letters ta hear a show of Uncle Fun’s an’ mine’s what never even gotta nibble frum th’ brain (?) trust at Canada’s Friendly Governmint Broadcaster.)

As fer th’ U. S. of A., mebbe th’ solushun iz ta give th’ job’a prezdunt ta th’ most inseckure person in th’ country.

Then they could give convenshuns back ta their ritefull owners — Shriners, trav’ling salesmen, and weirdos wearin’ Spock ears. 

Sparky

This week’s Funday Sunnies finds Duncan taking a late-summer vacation by the seaside:

 

…it may be a while before he decides to come back.

Hello, all you celebrity hunters out there:

     If you’re looking for your cheap fix of pointless fame today, you’ve come to the right place. Forget all that hoo-ha about Avril Whats-her-name and Nickel Boy, because you are in the presence of true luminaries here at Uncle Fun and Sparky Land. It has come to our attention, thanks to almost a full minute of boredom-induced web-surfing by our friend and host Mr. Cousins, that we show up first—and second (!)—in a Google image search of the phrase “Corporal Klinger Action Figure”.

 

 

     It makes a fellow proud and humble, in the way that only a completely meaningless distinction like this can. Now that we’re true internet stars, whose every thought, word and deed is constantly on the verge of going viral faster than a sneezing Lolcat, we’d better self-promote like the true children of celebrity whoredom we’ve become, and link you to the posting that made us the place of all places that the world’ turns to for images of plastic toy replicas of cross-dressing fictional Korean War soldiers.

     And, just in case you think we’re a bunch of one-hit wonders, we also turn up first in a Google image search of the phrase “Bikegang Amadeus Mozart”.

     Hardly surprising, really. It’s this sort of thing that has made us the leader in whatever field we’ve been the leader in, for however long we’ve been the leader in it.

     Not only that, but dear old Bikegang Amadeus Mozart (can you ever get enough of seeing that name repeated, World of the Internet?) is not alone among chart-toppers in the posting he appears in. (Click here for more shameless self-promotion on our part.) The image below turns up first when you google “Debussy Dawg”.

     All this from a posting that went up last June. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Internet, we’ve been a double-platinum Number-One-with-a-Bullet for over a year. To celebrate both this and the sesquicentennial of Debussy’s birth (let’s all pause for a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday” in a pentatonic scale), we’re giving you the first chance in a decade to hear one of a series of radio pieces The Cousins Lad did when he still had a smattering of culture. Click here for the true (and probably toned-down) story of one of Claude Debussy’s greatest flops.

     That’s right—“flops”. We’re not letting him ride on our coattails with any of his big-name toe-tappers like Afternoon of a Faun or The Girl With the Flaxen Hair. If you’re a Debussy buff, you know Jeux anyway; if not, google it. Either way, the story behind Jeux (Click here, already! Click here!) will leave you with a mental picture that beats anything Google can throw your way.

     Not that we won’t try to top it, of course. We have a reputation to uphold, you know.

Uncle Fun

This week, The Funday Sunnies featuring Duncan explores the idea that you can drop out without tuning in or turning on…

…we’d make a joke about it being "a hard habit to acquire", but, frankly, we’re above that sort of thing.

Every election year, I miss Pat Paulsen just a little more because of stuff like this…

Stop for a moment, and put aside any partisan and personal feelings you may have.

Now, ask yourself, “Did I laugh?”

“…even in spite of myself…?”

“Did I laugh?”

If not, ask yourself this:

When did a politician—I mean, ANY politician—using a phrase like “wind energy” STOP being a joke that essentially tells itself?

Please tell me it’s not a state secret that the world has lost its sense of humour.

If it is, I may have to seek asylum in Ecuador…and I hear there’s a lineup for that these days.

Uncle Fun

The Funday Sunnies featuring Duncan recognizes that it takes all kinds to make this world of ours…

…so you can see why we hope there’s intelligent life on other planets.

Hey there, folks and folkesses:                    

Sorry we bin kinda off th’ grid this last li’l while. Uncle Fun lammed it outta Funsville in even more’n his usual hurry this year, ta avoid havin’ ta cast th’ decidin’ tie-breakin’ vote on th’ Fair Play an’ Sportsmanship Award at th’ annyuwall Shavian Archetypal Knucklepuppyball turnamint. (See this posting if ya fergot whut that wuz all about.) He sez he might be back soon, tho’, on ackount’a how th’ place he picked ta hide out at iz gettin’ kinda crowded.

He musta bin despert ta get away, I’ll tellya, cuz he left me an’ Moose (whose parents iz away on vacayshun themselfs an’ aint s’posed ta know any’a this) in th’ care’a Mister Kuzzents. Now, Kuzzents has gotta cat, which iz good, but b’tween you, me, an th’ A.S.P.C. of A., I think th’ cat knows more ‘bout lookin’ after childrun than he duz. So far, th’ closest thing ta adult guidance he’s given us is ta say “keep away from the brandy”. That’s fine by me, sints whut I heard frum Uncle Fun wuz that th’ brandy at Mister Kuzzents’s place is sumpin’ ta keep away frum at all costs. (Atchilly, Uncle Fun sez th’ problem iz that th’ brandy don’t igzacktly come at all costs, b’cause Kuzzents iz too cheap ta buy V.S.O.P. even…but ya dint hear that frum me.)

Now, don’t git me wrong --- th’ ackommadayshuns iz good, an’ Mister Kuzzents hazza lotta p’tenshully market-valyuwubble stuff he ain’t prolly never even thot’a pawning, but if he knew any less about how ta keep a kid’s attenshun, he could go inta bizness azza childrun’s entertainer. I askted Moose ta make up a inventory’a how he’s spent th’ time sints we bin here:

Telling us everything interesting that’s ever happened in his life (with repeats):

6 ½ minutes

“Demonstrating” household chores such as vacuuming, cleaning bathtubs, etc., in the hopes that we’ll think it’s so much fun that we join in, and eventually take over from him:

47 minutes, 11 seconds

Sorting through his collection of DVDs and VHS tapes, trying to find something that could be loosely construed as interesting or relevant to anyone born after the Spanish-American War:

39 hours, 16 minutes, and 43 seconds (cumulative)

Enumerating and expounding on key points of similarity and difference among Mitt Romney, Barry Goldwater, and Henry Cabot Lodge:

9 hours, 21 minutes (on the nose)

Explaining who Barry Goldwater and Henry Cabot Lodge were:

(not sure—fell asleep)

Showing us how hockey goalies used to play without masks:

19 hours, 3 minutes

(estimate—includes approximately 19 hours at the emergency ward)

Staying awake while recovering from a Grade 2 concussion, as per doctor’s orders, while rambling semi-coherently about how we’d all be speaking Swedish if Peter the Great hadn’t won the Battle of Poltava:

a hair under 23 hours

Glowering:

constantly

Goin’ back ta th’ third item on that list, our chief source of amusemint (not countin’ the “maskless goalie” bit, an’ its aftermath) haz bin obscure old cartoons whut Mister Kuzzents has misered away like Silas Marner, if that’s who I think I mean, an’ someone else if it isn’t. Th’ well began ta run dry late last week, tho’, which iz why ya haven’t heard frum us inna while.

Ya see, we wuz reduc’d ta watchin’ What’s New, Mr. Magoo? . An’, I’ll tellya straight out — it nearly robb’d us of th’ will ta live.

I had my hopes up based on when Mister Kuzzents show’d us th’ old Magoo cartoons frum back when they wuz made by Communists. Okay, th’ first one, mostly.

A near-sighted ol’ coot with a bad temper an’ a shotgun…how kin ya go wrong? Th’ rest kinda fell off after that, tho’, p’tickularly in th’ gunplay d’partmint, so I was really keyed up fer th’ “new” in What’s New, Mr. Magoo? bein’ a whole lotta new an’ improv’d violence.

It wuz made in th’ Seventies, after all. But, no such luck. It wuz made fer Saturday morning TV, so all that wuz new wuz that Mr. Magoo hadda talkin’ dog…which by then wuzzent so new, either.

This talkin’ dog’s name wuz McBarker, but one look at him, an’ wisht I wuz lookin’ at Bob Barker instead.

They kept yappin’ on about how th’ dog wuz th’ spittin’ image’a Magoo, but fer my money, he look’d more th’ Comishuner frum th’ Inspector cartoons.

I wonder whut Jim Backus, th’ actor who did Magoo’s voice (an’ supplemented th’ bad-eyesight shtick by sneakin’ an actuwal personality in b’tween the lines’a th’ script), felt about all this.

Ya gotta look at it as kinduva comedown frum playin’ th’ genie in this great ol’ Bugs Bunny cartoon. (Editor’s note: google the title “A-Lad-in-His Lamp”, to find the video evidence for this.) Dunno why Warner Bruthers dint use him more…mebbe his other bosses put a “Magoo only” rider on his contract.

I cooden stop sayin’ that once I heard it. You’d think that Mister Kuzzents wooda got tired’a hearin’ it, but after three whole days, th’ answer wuz apparently no.  Moose did get tired of it, however, an’ offer’d ta start me in onna new career path azza genie by crammin’ me backwards inta a teapot if I diddunt knock it off.

Really, tho’, it’s th’ childrun I feel sorry for (as Uncle Fun likes ta say whenever someone menshuns Mister Rogers). A lotta folks whut wound up bein’ parents now got raised on stuff like What’s New, Mr. Magoo?, and prolly ain’t never recover’d fully frum th’ expeeriyunts. Their will ta live likely ain’t return’d enuf so they kin keep up with th’ enurjettick yooth they brot inta th’ world. Mister Kuzzents roofully (if that’s th’ word) admitted that he still has relapses frum acksidentully watchin’ th' network premiere of The Great Grape Ape.

I’ll say this fer Mister Kuzzents, tho’: he ain’t no dummy (all th’ time, at least). Now he’s got us softened up and quietened down, th’ next thing he’s gonna toss our way is Hong Kong Phooey.

We otta be as docile as dodos on dubble dosages’a demerol by th’ time Uncle Fun comes back ta pick us up.

Sparky

This week in The Funday Sunnies featuring Duncan, we decided to honour the excellence of the world’s Olympic athletes…

…then we changed our minds, and just threw an awful pun at you instead.