First, let me apologize for all the frequent outages and other weirdness lately on this site and Humor-Blogs.com/Blog-Storm.com. Turns out my server didn't have enough memory to, um, remember that my websites are supposed to stay up for several hours in a row. I was up till 2am last night moving everything AGAIN, and I'm still working out a few issues, but so far no outages, thank God and Godaddy. Also, comments are working again.
Second, as you know, I'm hip-deep in my new and totally original book, the Nonfictional Diesel Guide to Parenting Non-Chinese Babies, so I don't have time for nonsense like servers going down or upstart young bloggers making absurd accusations about how I stole his book idea. Next thing you know, he'll be claiming that he had the idea for a humorous novel about an AWOL angel on the brink of the apocalypse, except his book will be about that guy with the eye-patch on Airwolf watching Race to Witch Mountain.
Anyway, we decided to settle the matter in an gentlemanly and cross-promotional manner, with guest posts on each other's sites. My post is over here. If you want to read Johnny's tripe, keep going past those prickly asterisks that practically scream "Go no further! Hey, stop! I mean it, stop! Man, this just isn't working. I think we need more asterisks. Or maybe one of those horizontal rule guys. Those guys kick ass."
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I was driving down the road the other day and the Radiohead song "Karma Police" came on. As usually happens when I hear "Karma Police," two thoughts popped into my head:
1. I can no longer hear this song without thinking, "Maaatress Police... something-something-something... maaaatress police..." and
2. Did I leave the iron on?
This was all followed by a mental image of Diesel in the back seat of a car chasing some guy down the road at night because that's the music video, and I turn to my wife Robin and I'm all like, "You know what was a cool music video? Genesis's "Land of Confusion." Because it had a Ronald Reagan puppet. And because it's a reminder that Phil Collins wasn't always about that dumb Groovy Kind of Love thing." And she's like, "I didn't have MTV growing up," and I'm like, "Communist."
Which all really leads back to the central issue in all of this, which is the question of why anyone listens to Radiohead.
But I'm not just here to elicit hate mail from Radiohead fans. I'm here to explain, once and for all, that Diesel stole my idea to write a parenting book.
And also that he's living a double life as a woman on the drag circuit under the name "Unleaded."
See, it all started a few years ago when Diesel and I were at Jedi school together. I had just gotten back from a jam session with Yoda and suddenly had this awesome idea to write a book about fatherhood for regular dudes. Diesel was supportive; he thought it was a good idea but honestly didn't give it much thought because he was really busy studying for his final in that thing where the little floating ball shoots lasers at you and you have to use your light saber to deflect them. I started the outline for the book, but had to shelve the idea because my kids were requiring all of my attention and Anakin Skywalker had just gotten this manifesto about the "Dark Side" or some crap and was becoming a goth dick. And also, this was a long time ago and I didn't actually have any kids.
So I put it up on a shelf. And a couple of months ago I started to work on it again starting with a few parenting axioms ("The five second rule totally applies" and "Bathe it every day? Who the hell are you, the Pope?") and what do I see over here on Mattress Police?
SON. OF. A BITCH.
So I emailed Diesel and I'm all like, "You've totally crossed over to the Dark Side, you ass" and "That chick that Natalie Portman played wanted me and not you, and actually, not the queen person but Natalie Portman herself, and by the way, I'd give my nuts to be with Natalie Portman, except that the whole thing would go to waste because, being nutless, I'd just want to drink tea with her and knit."
And he emailed me back and was like, "What's wrong with you? You've changed, dude. You're all Jabba the Hut, except that they lamed Jabba up so much when they re-did the CGI and made him able to walk around, because everyone knows that Jabba was like that fat Mexican guy who went out on a date with his girlfriend and they transported him on a flatbed semi and the semi got wedged under an overpass. Google it." And I emailed back and was like, "You're just saying that because you work at Google" and he was like, "I'm a flunked Jedi. Of course I work at Google. And plus, President Emperor says that he's going to expand our stock options."
So, to all of you Karma Police readers, I just wanted to say that I was there first. And that I still don't understand Radiohead. And that Natalie Portman is totally hot.
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Have you people no respect for asterisks at all? Do you know how hard those little guys work to keep you from getting past? I hope you're all cut and bruised from squeezing past those sharp edges. Oh, you went around. Whatever.
In all seriousness, when Johnny Truant isn't spreading viscous lies about me on the interwebs, he's a very funny guy. So here's what you need to do:
- Bookmark his blog.
- Add him to your favorites on Humor-Blogs.com. And if you're not a member yet, sign up, for Pete's sake. I worked like an asterisk on that thing.
- Give him lots of nice Smilies so he'll stop whining to me about how low his score on HB is.
- Buy his book. It's funny. Trust me.
Also, don't believe his viscous and syrupy lies, sweet as molasses though they may be.