Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ category

The (In Their) Sixties Generation

January 12, 2011

The (In Their) Sixties Generation Rallying Cries

–Power to the Propecia!
–If it feels good, I’d be surprised.
–Hell, no, I can’t go!
–We are the grandparents our parents warned us about.
–Make love not snore.
–Go with the Flomax.
–Tune in, turn it up, drop off.
–What if they gave a colonoscopy and nobody came?
–This is the dawning of the age of thin-hairius.
–Don’t do it.
–Give Paxil a chance.
–Hairy kishkas, kiskas hairy.
–Lucky to Be Here Now.
–Question his authority.
–A woman without a man is like living in Sun City.
–Don’t trust anyone of any age.

All the News that Isn’t

January 8, 2011

All the News That Isn’t for January 8, 2011

Job offers pouring in for homeless man with golden voice, Jim Packard.

Sarah Palin’s Alaska cancelled due to lack of Inuit.

In Washington, Little Fockers take office.

Tea Partiers open Congress by dumping copies of Constitution in Potomac.

Powdered wigs in Capitol Hill for the first time in 200 years.

Speaker Boehner opened the session by reading the parts of the Constitution he liked. The 2nd Amendment only takes about 60 seconds.

Republicans were hoping to repeal Hawaii’s statehood before the President got back from Honolulu.

House Un-Tea Partian Affairs Committee chair calls the Obama administration the most corrupt since the Bush administration.

Pentagon will save 78 Billion by converting to Call of Duty: Black Ops.

The bad news is that Cheney’s heart pump is made by Halliburton.

Columbus, Ohio man with great voice new presidential press secretary.

Chinese stealth fighter looks suspiciously like fortune cookie.

Looks like Taylor Hefner is next.

84 year old Hugh Hefner, warned about possible fatal consequences of marrying 24 year old, says “if she dies, she dies.”

With the “n’s” removed it’s Huckleberry Fi.

Sudden increase in Republican on Republican crime.

Enterprise commander says no Navy without seamen.
The Navy: what happens on the fantail stays on the fantail.

Uproar as Jon Stewart compares President to Star Wars Jar Jar Binks.

Reagan pretty much unchanged on 100th birthday.

Brett Favre to be Pocket Fisherman spokesman.

Michael Steele offered porter job at Republican National Committee.

Death of thousands of birds in Arkansas blamed on Obamacare.

At 50 Billion, Facebook valuation comes to half a Billion for every friend.

Woman groped by Donald Duck feels goofy.

Every 36 years like clockwork Jerry Brown is governor of California.

Scientists find that a crying woman is nearly as big a turnoff as a laughing woman.

National Enquirer and Star merge to form 2-ply paper.

Court rules strip search of male inmate by female guard unconstitutional even if he asks for it.

Michelle Bachmann and Sarah Palin scratch each other’s eyes out.

Kate and William register at Target.

In another setback for Broadway Spiderman, leading spider lady eats leading spider man.

Montel fails to put hash pipe in quart sized bag at Milwaukee airport.

Paul Soglin to run for mayor of Madison in 1968 and

I don’t know about you, but I’ve just seen my first “You must have been born on this date in 1990” tavern sign—

Happy New Year!

Miki on Wiki

January 5, 2011

Your continued donations keep Wikipedia running!
Michael Feldman
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
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For the Canadian politician, see Mike Feldman
Michael Feldman, the popular media icon and witty aphorist, is the host of “Michael Feldman’s Whad’Ya Know?,” a radio program distributed by Public Radio International heard on maybe a gazillion stations in virtually every English and Latinate-based speaking nation. His humor has been likened to that of Twain, Thurber, S.J. Perelman and Cato (the Elder), being a homespun yet sophisticated amalgam of insightful satire and a wide-ranging cross-cultural intellectualism sometimes known as the Milwaukee School, for his hometown, where his alma mater has been named Washington High School in his honor. Self-effacing to the point of hardly ever referring to himself by name (only, humorously, as “Yours, truly”) Maestro Feldman has raised a generation of radio listeners who think of him as Uncle Feldman. A handsome man, Feldman had his choice of many women, selecting the one or two he did purely for genetic reasons, yielding two superior female offspring who, as he would never trumpet, worship their father. In over twenty years hosting and producing “Whad’ya Know?” Feldman has never once abandoned his show to pursue an exchange student overseas. Winner of too many awards to mention, including the Madison (WI) Kiwanis Speaker Appreciation trophy, the Peabody Duck Captain honor, and the Neenah (WI) Foundry Personalized Manhole Cover, Feldman also has more keys to more cities than you can shake a stick at (his youngest, in fact, teethed on the key to Omaha (NE).) Beloved is not too strong a word to describe the esteem Michael Feldman is held in by his adoring audience, many of whom credit him with bringing them together as couples and encouraging them to have families of their own, knowing that if he could do it anyone could, and has. His charismatic, youthful appearance, often compared to a young Dick Clark, surprises some who come to the live show in Madison (WI)causing many to wonder why he’s not in television, which Feldman has dismissed as “Radio you have to look at.” Feldman has contributed many aphorisms to the language, including the famous “Whad’ya Know?–Not Much, You?” call and response, “listeners who are sticklers for truth should get their own shows,” “sit on your hands and let someone else have a chance for a change,” and many others, including the repeated use of “actually” to mean “really.” Widely respected and feared among radio professionals, the “Host with the Most” has been added to the collection of the Museum of Broadcasting in New York (NY) and received the ceremonial coffee cup from the Chicago (IL) Broadcast Museum. A genius grant is rumored to be just around the corner. Michael Feldman has either written or read 7 or more highly acclaimed books, including “War and Peace,” “Madam Bovary,” and “Something I Said?: Innuendo and Out the Other,” “Whad’ya Know?”–the book–and Glad You Asked. His most recent CD is Grammy unominated “The First 25 Are the Hardest.”
[edit] External links
• Biography at the Whad’Ya Know? website
• Profile at About.com
This United States biographical article related to radio is a stub. You can help Wikipedia by expanding it.

Retrieved from “http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Feldman”
Categories: 1949 births | Living people | American public radio personalities | American radio personalities | American humorists | Jewish American writers | Public Radio International | People from Madison, Wisconsin | People from Milwaukee | University of Wisconsin-Madison alumni | Wisconsin Public Radio | United States radio people stubs
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The Favre Upon the Locker Room Floor

December 31, 2010

The Farve Upon The Locker-Room Floor
with apologies to Hugh Antoine D’Arcy
You’ve treated me pretty kindly,
And I’d like to tell you how,
I came to be this broken heap, you see before you now.
As I told you once, I was a man
With muscle, frame and health,
Held every kind of record, amassing untold wealth.
To call me a passer, well I guess you could,
Gunslinger, more to the point, no one near as good.
Till the star- crossed time still in my hey-day,
When beady-eyed Ted Iscariot dissembled and betrayed.
Foul-fiend, cad and liar,
He’s the one should have retired.
Ere a year of misery had barely grayed my hair,
I was handed Broadway directly by the mayor.
Eight and three, boys, was my streak,
But the season did not end that week.
When it did it ended bad,
To see my visage replaced by Chad!
Revenge, boys, is best served hot,
Went and got my arthroscop.
Joined the horned men huge as sin,
Made to pillage not merely win.
And win we did boys and again,
Until the Saints came marching in.
Hand me the chalk I’ll scrawl the score,
Here upon this locker room floor.
Out crawled Childress, the supplicant,
On both knees he was no Bud Grant.
Like folks here say, said I might could,
And the usual old dogs hunt good.
On this trip, my home away from home,
Collapsed like the Metrodome.
Now little more than killing field,
Like Achilles, carried off on my shield.
That’s why I took to drink boys. Why, I never see you smile,
I thought you’d be amused boys, and laughing all the while.
Another drink and with chalk in hand, the vagabond began,
To sketch a bang eight with his claw-like hand.
Then, while using running back for pawn,
With a fearful shriek, he leaped and fell across the benches — gone!
But each night, for all us boys, the Gunslinger draws once more,
Like he did with his face upon the locker room floor.
Michael Feldman

10 Celebs We’re Tired Of in 2010

December 21, 2010

Ten Celebs We’re Tired Of in 2010
–In order of they gotta go–
1. Michael Cerra (Mickey Rooney perpetual kid of his generation—grow up or die)
2. Seth Rogan (now thin and not funny)
3. Meryl Streep (in every movie and animated film of 2001-2010, RIP)
4. The Kardashians (counts as 1—being chips off the old OJ shyster lawyer not nearly enough)
5. Twilight time for Kristen Stewart, Taylor Lautner and Robert Pattinson (please—make them un-undead!)
6. Katy Perry and Russell Brand individually and as couple
7. Scarlett Johansson and Ryan Reynolds (counts as 0—she is a waste of breasts, while the sexiest man alive looks like a young Chevy Chase with Neanderthal brow)
8. Kanye West and Taylor Swift (and their strange if boring Ying/Yang—not taking sides, both go)
9. Will Ferrell (love him, but you can’t be age 12 at this age and weight)
10. Christopher Nolan (directing career could all be a dream—commercials, who cares, but no more pseudo-profound, overrated crap like Inception—this is non-negotiable!)

Feldman Defends Santa

December 20, 2010

In Defense of Santa Claus

The Christmas parade used to come right down Center Street in Milwaukee—a half block from our house—and one year, I was seven or eight, I crawled under one of the cream puff Pontiacs in the Uptown used car lot (our Christmas lights were the bulbs strung over the car lots endemic to our neighborhood) to sneak a peek at Santy. He wasn’t ours, of course, and when I crawled out from under the front bumper and he seemed to wave at me in passing, I felt like a fraud. It wasn’t a question of whether Santa existed or not, but more like whether I did. I had Santa envy, bad. Mom did take me to Gimbel’s to get my picture taken with him when I was about three (couldn’t find that picture when we cleaned out mom’s things—and it was the one I wanted most!) and one Chanukah we even hung stockings from the mantle, but it was a fake fireplace and nothing came of it. I remember thinking how great it would be if Santa could have worked both sides of the street; you know, first Christmas eve, then eight days schlepping presents from a Lincoln Town Car. Come to think of it, I don’t know which came first, the revelation that there may have been no Santa Claus or that we were Jewish and it was a moot point, anyway. For a while I thought Rabbi Twerski was our Santa Claus, since not only was he a ringer for him, but he was all sweetness, light, and generosity, although I never brought it up during my Bar Mitzvah studies.
In fact, St. Nicholas, with his white beard and black robes, very much resembled a rabbi, although it must be said that he was Bishop of Myra in the fourth century, in what is now Turkey. There, through his beneficence and courageous interventions on behalf of the poor and disenfranchised, he became the most venerated saint of the middle ages; protector of the poor, sailors, charitable and benevolent organizations, merchants, pawnbrokers (?), unmarried women and, above all, children, whose lives he saved and families he fed in his miracles. Nicholas was the benefactor of children in a time when childhood did not even exist, let alone any protections for the young. St. Nicholas gave away his personal fortune to those in need, riding into legend on a white horse, putting little tsatskes (toys) or lumps of coal, as appropriate, in children’s boots left outside their doors, sometimes accompanied by the scary ogre Krampus, bad cop to his good. Neglected after the Reformation, Nicholas holed up in Holland as Sinterklaas, and even adapted to the changing times, sailing into Amsterdam harbor at the wheel of a steamboat filled with presents and, of course, more than enough leftover coal. Sinterklaas sailed with the Dutch colonists to New Amsterdam, where, like so many immigrants, he was given an Americanized name, Santa Claus, and soon was recognized in the New World, as he had been in the Old, as the personification of benevolence, good will, and giving during Christmas, and other times as needed.
And still very much needed, don’t you think?

Michael Feldman

Reality Dwarf Stars of 2010 from Nora & Michael Feldman

December 19, 2010

dwarf star (n.): a small star of low luminosity

Top Ten Dwarf Stars of 2010
Ranked by luminosity, lowest to highest.

10. Keenan Cahill: his viral video lip syncs Katy Perry better than she does.
9. Bethany Frankel: the Oh, Really, Housewife of New York worked it to find mate, conceive and have baby on-air to completely muffle other housewive’s thunder.
8. Vinny Guadagnino: possibly the smartest guy in Staten Island dumbed himself down nearly too far for Jersey Shore but came out the dark horse almost appealing cast member.
7. Olivia Blois Sharpe: from Jerseylicious big hair novice to head big hairdresser–and she sings the theme song.
6. Michaele Salahi: the you-can’t-help-but-dislike old school party crasher left the Housewives of DC in her dust.
5. Buddy Valastro: the can’t-be-this-dumb Cake Boss and pride of Hoboken whose masterpiece was a larger-than-life sized many-tiered cake of his wife she pretended to love.
4. Calvin Tran: From feared/hated by all “Oh here go hell come” boy on Bravo’s The Fashion Show to signature stores in LA, New York and Chicago.
3. Rachel Uchitel: parlayed stint with Tiger Woods for chance to put Celebrity Rehabber Dr. Drew in his place.
2. Kim Zolciak: Atlanta Housewife blossomed post-Big Daddy to become one of the worst singers of all time with da bomb “Tardy for the Party,”
And the number one Dwarf Star for 2010–
1. Antoine Dodson: “Hide your kids, hide your wife” for the rocket ride blasting from the Huntsville projects to the mega hit “Bed Intruder Song” iTunes video.

2010: 12 months 12 jokes

December 13, 2010

2010: 12 Months, 12 Jokes

January: Undies bomber had apparently found a way to combine miniature pretzels and 3 ounces of Diet Coke to make an explosive device.
February: Scientists discover Neanderthal teeth in very old glass on nightstand in Poland.
March: Chinese manage to hack Internet without being allowed on it.
April: Hacker on trial says he just guessed Sarah Palin’s password was “ubetcha.”
May: Thank God it wasn’t Yiddish Petroleum–we have enough trouble as it is.
June: South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford returns from another unannounced absence with rose still in his teeth.
July: Israel to allow Seder plates, halvah, and Streisand DVD’s into Gaza.
August: White House says President Obama is a Christian who prays daily, albeit on a little rug.
September: Missing Kennedy-Nixon ballots turn up in Kabul.
October: Kim Jong Il successor L’il Kim.
November: Qantas grounds planes after koala falls off fuselage.
December: President Obama forced to do Blazing Saddles sheriff routine to get away from a hostile crowd of Democrats.
. . . That’s All The 2010 News That Wasn’t . . .

WikiThis: All the Leaks That Aren’t

November 29, 2010

WikiThis: Saudis tell US to take out Iran, say the Jews did it.

WikiThis: Saudis sought to trademark burnoose.
»
WikiThis: Tea Party front for Lipton’s.
»
WikiThis: Tony Blair, W’s handpuppet, now lies limp in trunk in Westminster.
»
WikiThis: Lady GaGa on No Ga list.

WikiThis: Elvis ran Middle East Bureau until untimely death, throwing region into chaos.

WikiThis: Putin can see Palin from dacha veranda.

WikiThis: British royal spends much time on throne.

WikiThis: There are men who wear rouge.

WikiThis: Eat Chinese and a half-hour later you’re hungry again.
»
WikiThis: Iran’s Ahmadinejad big George Michael fan.

WikiThis: Angela Merkel’s rendition of Danke Schoen laughable.
»
WikiThis: Barbara Walters would not be any kind of tree.
»
WikiThis: Embassy Suites really CIA operation.
»
WikiThis: Sarah Palin believed to be Manchurian Candidate.
»
WikiThis: Cuban cigars regularly smuggled in diplomatic pouches.
»
WikiThis: Chamber of Commerce deemed terrorist group.
»
WikiThis: Israeli documents reveal Jewish state considered going Unitarian.

WikiThis: State department informer notes Hillary gone up a size in pants suit.

WikiThis: Saudi King Abdullah admits family name was Bronstein back in Romania.

WikiThis: Libya’s Khadaffi travels under the name of Quackenbush with a voluptuous Ukranian nurse.

Dessert Errata: A Prayer of Thanksgiving

November 22, 2010

Dessert Errata
A PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING

Go resignedly to the folks’ remembering it’s just for a few hours. Though you must make appearances at her side as well as your own, eat with as much relish as you can muster, for this, too, shall pass. Choose carefully your words, gingerly stepping around your cousin Ruth’s latest fiasco with the Arthur Murray instructor, and ask not about Marlene.
Let on not that you have heard the stories before, and utter them not aloud simultaneously nor anticipate the punch lines. Chew with vigor and bite thy tongue, for the bird hath been cooked since Tuesday, yet praise it tenderly for it never heard a compliment in life. Be sage about the dressing though you know not the origin of the little hard things; should you bite into the wedding band, return it with discretion. Though it resemble syrup, pour not the Manischewitz on the sherbet.

Avoid your Uncle Lou; he is vexatious to the spirit. Kick not your little brother under the table, but show the forbearance of the season and pound him later. Picture Naomi and the kids as alien life-forms, and learn from them. Shout not at Gram, for she heareth what she chooseth. Though you take on much wine, sing not The Barber of Seville nor show undue attention to your niece, who has become quite the young lady. If belch thou must, let it not herald the start of a contest. Mince no words over the piece of pie which passeth all understanding.

Above all, say nothing on the ride home, even though the temptation to cite what might have happened but didn’t be great. For that give silent thanks, resolving to firm up those plans for Aruba over Christmas.

Amen.