Marilyn Monroe, Liberal Democrat, Big Foot

I was watching the news yesterday and saw that the people whose father is buried in the crypt shelve just above Marilyn Monroe has remove their father's body and have the space up for sale for 4 million dollars. So for 4 mill you can be buried face down on top of Marilyn. That so stupid. I think they could make a lot more money just renting it out.

Today I learned a new definition of what a Liberal Democrat is. Their a person that takes your birthday cake away from you, slices it up into small pieces and then distributes the pieces to those less fortunate for not having a birthday the same day as you.
I was watching a program today about Big Foot. Through scientific evidence they discovered not only its genus classification, but that all their names are Bill.

I am so in love with my Girl. Yesterday she made me pancakes and while eating them she told me something very profound. "Having pancakes is just the best excuse for eating butter and syrup", I agree whole heatedly.

I like using Craig's list. Today I created a new listing with a $400.00 price tag on it. Already I've had 6 offers, sad to say two of em wanted me to take a money order for $600.00 and send them back $200.00 and two others wrote the same exact note that read " I help u sell stuff, i real goood at selling and can hep you". The good news is that I did get two legitimate offers. I always knew that my one of a kind, original "Peanuts" comic book, autographed by Charlie Brown himself, was worth lots of money.

When it comes to hearing I think a lot of people are ambidextrous. Words go into either ear and out the other.

I became a member of the Polar Bear Club today. Least by Florida standards. I jumped into the pool at my apartment here in Flint with the outdoor temperature of 65 degrees. Burrrr. My testicles turned into Popsicles.

P.S. Speaking of watching the new on television. I hate it. You get to watch two minutes of news and then have to watch four minutes of commercials. I am going back to reading the newspaper, least then the only distraction is the cat trying to climb up on your lap. Maybe it would be a good idea for the newspapers to use my distaste for commercial interruptions in there own marketing campaign. That plus making the printers ink smell like strawberries.


Read more stuff at http://stephenjamescomedy.blogspot.com/

From the Fastest to the Smartest

What a great time at the “Crim Race Festival”. The weather was perfect for the runners, temperatures around 60 degrees (That’s equivalent to 10 below for us Floridanians).

People that were running the race had a great time. Many of them dressed up in goofy costumes. Some wore Batman outfits, others wonder woman costumes (Thankfully those were mostly women) and one guy juggled basketballs the whole 10 miles. The most embarrassing sight was when one guy dressed up in a Flint Tropic’s uniform. If you don’t know about the Flint Tropics, it was a fictional basketball team from the movie “Semi-Pro” with Will Farrell and filmed in Flint Michigan. Well, this guy wore those same kind of old fashion basketball shorts, the ones that are cut way high up the thigh. Trouble was he must have forgot his underpants cause he ran half the race with his Monkey Wagon. (Yes, I am still looking for ways to use the term Monkey Wagon.)

Next year we’re going to host an after “Crim” party at our new loft, downtown. The finishing line is right in front of our new place. We’re thinking of serving “Crim Bolay”. (This stuff is not meant to be funny, just amusing.)

I didn’t run the race, mostly because it involves exercise. My trouble is that whenever I start to think about exercising I get dizzy and have to lie down. I have the same symptoms whenever I think or hear the word, work.

It was fun watching the race and seeing all the different running styles. There’s your “Up-Tight” runners, the ones that keep their elbows close to their ribs and their bodies as still as possible. Kind of looks like their afraid they might poop their pants and are doing all they can to clinch their sphincter shut.

There’s the “I’m dancing” runners, the kind that’s got everything just a swinging. They look sort of like how a white guy looks trying to be funky, in a Hip Hop club.

Then there’s the “Grimacers”. They’re the ones that have that “OMG I am going to die” look on their face. It looks as if each step they take feels like their appendix is about to burst. Trouble is, is that they’ve had this same face on from the starting line.

I learned today that the smartest farm animal is the pig. Of course their IQ drops the longer you hold their head underwater.

Did you see in the news today that even the National Weather Service is trying to get more tax money with their new “Hurricane Bill”.

P.S. You can use the hold their head underwater joke on anyone or anything listed as the “smartest”. David Hawkins, today was named the smartest man in the world. But studies did report that his IQ dropped expediently the longer you hold his head underwater. Course when you talk about Dolphins’ you have to change it to “Studies report that the Dolphin is the smartest water mammal on earth. But during testing it was found that their IQ dropped significantly the longer you kept them out of water”.

See more stuff at:
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I am thinking of subscribing to the “All Nude News Channel”. At least those people have nothing to hide.

I had the television on in the background today while I was working at the computer. Somehow the program that was on caught my attention, a show call “All My Children”. I later learned that these kinds of shows are called “Soap Operas”. By god, why hasn’t anyone told me about these shows before! They’re a fantastic cross between reality and fantasy. They have the incredible ability of distorting the truth and cause me to want things that are not possible and to think thoughts that are harmful to my mental well-being. I need to watch more of this stuff!

We had to take one of Maureen’s cats to the vet today. I am a dog man myself; I prefer a good hunting dog like Labrador Retrievers or Weimaraners. I owned a female Weimaraner for many years; my sister and parents both have had one. The Weimaraner is a very smart and friendly dog. I taught mine to go to the mail box, open the lid and retrieve the mail. I also taught her to lift her leg to pee. Guess I had too much time on my hands back then.

Maureen has cats, their nice enough animals and I get along with them for the most part. The one cat (Fenway) will fetch a rubber ball and bring it back to you. It’s very dog-like and I have an affection for him because of it. The other cat (Sullivan) likes to climb on stuff and knock things over. He also has the uncanny and irritating ability of getting between you and whatever you’re doing. But it was while sitting in the Vet’s office that the thought came to me;”Just what is being a Veterinarian all about”. After pondering this notion for almost thirty-seven minutes, I came to this conclusion. They’re a person that spends lots of years and lots of money studying not only human biology but beastialogy too.

The Crim Race, is going on in Flint, Michigan this weekend. It was originally started in 1977 by a man named Bobby Crim. He was one of the first people to begin the activity called “Jogging”. Even back then he had a concern about the lack of physical fitness with the people in the community and was all about finding ways to help prevent illness due to lack of physical conditioning. Many of us just called him a “Meddler” and that jogging was nothing more than bicycling without the bicycle. Others call people like him a “Politician”.

I was living in Flint back then and remember thinking “Why the hell would anyone run just for the sake of running” we lived in Flint Michigan, home of the world’s larges car manufacturer. We didn’t need to run; we have huge eight cylinder, gas guzzling automobiles sitting in our driveways that could take us the two blocks down to the store. But now years later “The Crim” is one of the larges “Running” festivals in the country.

This weekend the streets of Downtown will be jammed packed with thousands of people, some to walk the course, some to run and others to stroll with their families on a short course created just for them. Also, some of the top runners in the world show up here to show off their long, skinny, muscular running legs. If you’ve ever eaten frog’s legs you will have a better idea of how these runners’ legs are shaped, cept without the flippers.

I do not believe in running as exercise, I prefer the exercise regiment that I’ve created myself, “Sexercising”. Sexercising require you to have 20 minutes of sex, 3 times a day. I myself have never been able to actually complete the programs requirements due to my inability in finding a Spotter.

Here’s the site for more information about “The Crim”. http://www.crim.org/

P.S. I also discovered a new TV program called the NEWS. Its all about people telling me stuff that is supposta be important to me, but they seem to “Report” the facts using they’re own personal viewpoint, supporting they’re own personal agendas and they’re own possible financial gain. It works just like a soap opera; distorting reality and causing me to want things that are not possible and are harmful to my mental well-being. I am thinking of subscribing to the “All Nude News Channel”. At least those people have nothing to hide.

See more stuff at http://stephenjamescomedy.blogspot.com

The words I write are just my way of amusing myself....

The words I write are just my way of amusing myself but in the back of my mind I sometimes think of them as a mini autobiography about myself and that someday, someone in the future will read these notes and learn a little about me. I guess I shouldn’t be writing them using a pseudonym.

Did you know that Michigan has purple trees? That’s right, trees with large purple leafs. They’re so gorgeous that they drew me into thoughts of wanting to taste them, thinking that they would taste like big flat, grapes. They didn’t. But I have now found a quick and easy way to induce vomiting.

I wonder if you didn't know how old you were, how old would you be.
For me, the answer is eighteen. I'm frozen there. I may look older on the outside but inside there's a late blooming, young teenager just becoming aware.

I am thinking about starting a new band. One that plays a very special new kind of music: You’ve heard of Mariachi Music, well my band will play Marionette Music. All strings.

Sometimes people that are heavy are said to be retaining water. I saw a woman the other day that looked like she was a retention pond.

I know a guy named Bud, he’s kind of fat and his pants never fit him right. Every time he bends down you have to be subjected to his butt cleavage. That’s why I call him Bud Buttcrack.

Taking a nap in the afternoon is like creating your own inner cosmic black hole. Void of thought or light.

I was watching ESPN at about 2 a.m. last night. Mostly because I took a nap earlier in the day and it interrupted my normal sleep pattern. They where showing a women’s softball game. I found it very interesting that one team was sponsored by a local meat market from a city here in Michigan, Beecher. The other squad had a very telling team name. The game went into extra inning and the final score was: Beecher Meats 1, and the Ball Busters 2.

Did you know that the hole drilled and corked in the side of a whiskey barrel is called a bung-hole and that there’s a store named Bung-hole Liquors? I’d have to be really drunk to go there.

P.S. Bung-hole Liquors is located across the street from Fat Bob’s Gym and BBQ and the transsexual auto-body shop, Gender Benders.

Read more stuff at http://stephenjamescomedy.blogspot.com

A story about THE HARVEST TIME SOUP

Maureen gave me a kiss on the cheek today and told me something very embarrassing. She said my ear smelled funny. Does anyone else suffer with E.E.O Embarrassing Ear Odor?

Today was shopping day. I spent part of the morning clipping coupons and searching the internet for coupon deals. It’s not so much about saving the money as it is the hunt in finding the coupons. I just love hearing the cashier tell me at the end of our grocery checkout that I saved so and so amount of money. Must be the German heritage in me or how I calculate the saving into how many beers I can buy.

My computer’s monitor screen must be busted. When I turned it on today it just shows an all white screen, I don’t think this is a racial thing on its part, just that it’s broke.

It’s getting close to harvest time here in Michigan. Time for me to start thinking about making that old harvest time family recipe, that’s been handed down from generation to generation. It’s a traditional Polish harvest time soup called Csvhka (Pronounced Csvhka). The soup is made with fresh picked string beans, celery, potatoes, carrots and peas, all mixed in a broth of heavy cream. It’s delicious. It’s also a Polish tradition that the first bowl of this soup be eaten in a very particular way by the winner of a very special Polish contest.

To determine the winner of the “First Bowl” we play a Polish game named “Spitzer”. Spitzer is a card game that involves two decks of cards, a rolling pin and a slab of uncooked beacon. It’s an extremely complicated game where during each hand you don’t know who your partner is till the game is nearly over. In this game the seven of diamonds is the top power card and you do a lot of “smearing” with the other players. It’s takes about an hour and a half to explain all the rules and about three minutes to play, so I’ll just continue from where the winner of the game gets to eat the “First Bowl”.

Traditionally the honor of “First Bowl” starts with a person standing on their head. Now it’s okay to have your feet leaning up against a barn wall for support. If a barn wall is not available, then it’s alright to have someone hold your feet, as long as that person is over the age of 65. Don’t worry about the age requirements I will explain the reasons later. Okay, once the person is standing on their head and supported properly, they are then given a two inch wide wooden spoon and the “First Bowl” is placed on the ground near their forehead. The winner of “First Bowl” then takes one hand and dips the spoon into the broth and sips the first tasting of Csvhka. If by chance the winner of “First Bowl” only has one arm, like my Uncle Eugene, it is proper etiquette to allow the runner up of the “Spitzer” game to ladle the “First Bowl” into the “First Bowl” winner’s mouth.

I know that this explanation of “First Bowl” is long and boring but stay with me cause I am sure you’ll be wanting to start this tradition within your own family.

After the “First Bowl” has been completely consumed, the winner is then returned to the upright position. At this time the youngest member of the family gathering, pulls out his/her beer bong, opens two cans (Must be cans) of P.B.R. beer (For the uneducated: Pabst Blue Ribbon) then shotguns the cans in rapid succession into the beer bong as the winner of “First Bowl” chugs as much beer as they can. Now this is very important: any beer that is dribbled or left over from the beer bonging has to be collected in a glass Mason jar and saved for the baptism of the next child born to the family of the “First Bowl” winner. Don’t ask me why, it’s just a tradition and traditions don’t need to have any reasoning. Kind of like Social Security.

To continue. After the beer bonging, the winner of “First Bowl” then is handed a “Butting Stick”. The wooden butting stick needs to be at least three feet long and one inch in diameter. We have found that it is best not to sharpen either end of this stick because now the “First Bowl” winner places one end of the stick on the ground and their forehead on the other.

I know you’re thinking that the “First Bowl” winner then starts to quickly walk around in a circle five times with their head on the “Butting Stick” and you’re right. The history of spinning around with a stick to your forehead happens to come from the “First Harvest Soup” tradition.

After the spinning with the “Butting Stick” the “First Bowl” winner then tries to run through a double lined gauntlet made up of the rest of the family members. Each member of the family has the option of 1) smacking the “First Bowl” winner in the stomach with a tree limb no larger than the handlers left shin bone. 2) Pleating them with rotting Polish style progies. 3) Smearing them with “Pigs in the blanket” (A Polish dish made with cabbage stuffed with either ground pork, ground beef or ground road kill).

Once the “First Bowl” winner brakes through the end of the gauntlet they then find themselves face to face with the open door of an old-time outhouse. They enter the outhouse and because of all the trials they’ve just been through they start to puke their guts out. After their stomach has been emptied it is their job to report to the others that the “Harvest Time Soup” is as good tasting coming up as it is going down. At which time the soup is deemed fit’en to eat and the rest of the family can dig in.

I am sure that in the old days, stories about “The Day of the Harvest Soup” were repeated over and over again while sitting with the family in front of the fireplace, drinking beers, on cold winter nights. And that their every thought throughout the year were filled with the possibilities of becoming next year’s lucky “First Soup” winner, just as they do with me today. Good Times.

P.S. I’m not really sure how this Harvest time tradition started with our family, specially knowing that none of us are Polish.

If you would like to read more stuff go to our Blog site at: http://stephenjamescomedy.blogspot.com

What's a Michimittener?

Maureen cooked ribs on the grill and boiled up some Michigan grown corn on the cob. The ears were so sweet it was like licking the sweat off an angel’s back.

I do feel just a wee bit bad that I didn’t do the grilling, but like my home electrical projects, when I finish grilling, fireman suddenly appear.

I am eating to much since I’ve moved here to Michigan. Course it mostly survival eating. Got to lay down a layer of blubber before winter sets in next week. I’m thinking about gaining about 20 pounds, that ought to get me through to November. Then I can pack on some more pounds during the Thanksgiving Day massacre.

Michigan is a tough place to be in the winter. Truly it’s the survival of the plumpest. I’m not saying people that live here are fat, just that they’ve already laid down a nice layer of pudd’en for upcoming winters. Us people from Florida have to prepare and acclimate ourselves to live through the arctic season. Miami Beach anorexics don’t last long here.

I kind of miss some things now that I’ve moved away from Florida, but there’s some things I don’t miss. Like those really skinny older ladies that I used to see walking the beaches. The kind of woman that you can’t tell how old they are after they’ve spend a lifetime under the Florida sun that has dried they’re bodies into a leathery mass of loose wrinkly skin. Mostly they reminded me of those Slim Jims you buy at 7-11. Long skinny, beef jerky sticks with legs.

Maureen had to go to the doctors today for lady stuff. I don’t want to talk about what all she had to go through, but it involved medical tools that a masochist would be embarrass to be seen using and paper gowns that have three slits randomly cut into them so you can’t tell if your legs, arms or head are supposta go in em.

Supposta is a Michigan word. It’s a word meaning that something should go in a certain place. It’s supposta go there. So if you’re ever in Michigan you’re supposta use that word.

We went out to have ice cream last night. Walked to a place down the street from us called the Feather and Fin. Had a really different tasting ice cream flavor, hand dipped meat loaf scoops in a waffle cone, then covered in thick dark gravy. See, that’s how Michiganders eat ice cream.

Michiganders, that’s what people from Michigan call themselves. I guess that’s better than calling themselves the frozen people that live on the mitten shaped land surrounded on three sides by water or Michimitteners.

I’ve got to go now. I’m supposta go try on some parkas. Parka is a Michigan word for a sleeping bag you wear in the winter that have 3 random slits cuts into it that you don’t know which hole your legs, arms or head fits through.

P.S. Do angel’s sweat? And if they do, does it glisten like meteor dust.

My Great Day in Flint Michigan

A great day in Flint Michigan yesterday: Spent part of the day at the pool where we met a great couple who had a son, Billy. What a bright kid, he can say “Hi” and “Bye” and can count to ten, which is great cuz he’s joining the army next week.


Did have to do some chores yesterday. We replaced our broke down dryer with the help of Maureen’s son Kevin, her sister Jackie, Jackie’s fiancé John and Maureen herself. I of course faked a back ache and did what I do best, direct. Okay so I didn’t fake the back ache, I did help with the heavy lifting and I did rewire the dryer. When I finished rewiring and started it up to test it for the first time the paramedics did have to be called, but they were real nice and taught me never to lick the red wire again.


Later in the day we watched a movie called “10,000 B.C.” or to be politically correct “10,000 c.a.”. What an interesting movie. If you have ever seen the movie “Brave Heart” it’s kind of the same story line cept done with everyone wearing loin cloths and there‘s giant Mammoths and a huge scary tiger in it. Other than that, they were about the same movie only the part Mel Gibson played in “Brave Heart” was played by a guy with long hair wearing a fur dress instead of a plaid one. Isn’t strange how all he movies now a days have the same story line. Why can’t they be more original like “Airplane”, “Scary Movie” 1, 2, 3, or 4 or “Hot Shots” or any movie the Zucker’s make.


Today we continued to use our new personal favorite catch-phrase “Monkey Wagon”. The new phase was created while at the car show “Back to the Bricks” in downtown Flint, Michigan. During our walk down the brick paved streets lined with beautiful classic cars, I thought I seen the car that was used in the old TV series “The Monkeys”. Remember that cool car they drove? Well, I thought I saw it parked down the next street (Turned out to be an old milk truck) and said to the group “Look, the Monkey’s Wagon” course I meant that I thought I was seeing the car cept M’s sister thought I was referring to my not wearing any underwear.


So today I woke up and went downstairs with my monkey wagon to watch the “View”. Okay I didn’t really go to watch the “View”, Maureen had it on and I sat down next to her. Then she made me go back upstairs and get dressed. So after I put on my cowboy boots and black cowboy hat I went back downstairs with my monkey wagon. Again I was told to go back upstairs and get fully dressed. Oh well.


Today I am determined to use the phrase “monkey wagon” till people beat me to a bloody pulp and the para-medics are called. Mostly I want to do this because I have some questions on how to rewire the toaster.


P.S. Never try to make French-toast in a toaster.

A NEW PLACE FOR COMEDY

Hi, my name is Stephen James. I would like to take this opportunity to get to know one another. Let me tell you a little about myself.

Thanks you all for joining us tonight when you could have been at home watching TV and enjoying yourself.

I work with the Melbourne Civic Theatre in promotions as well as teaching classes and performing at the theatre. I used to own a Commercial Diving Company. We worked underwater on boats and ships and as I always worked as an actor in someway, it has always been my hope to someday pool all my talents together and get my big brake in commercials as the Tiddy Bowl man.

Speaking of commercials, things are really strange now a days don’t you think. Why just the other day I was watching some TV commercials. Man, they're using all the neat songs of my generation to sell stuff....Bob Seager songs selling Chevrolet Trucks!? The Who’s music selling computers. I can only imagine that someday in the future they'll have Marilynn Manson music hyping the medical centers of Dr. Kevorkian. (Or selling overdoses of Sominex to euthanasianest.)

Anybody here ever been single?

Well I am single.
I've been a bachelor for most of my life by choice. ..Well, mostly by the choice of the women I date.

But, we bachelor's are a select group, I'm proud to be one. We're people without any personal obligation, people without any social encumbrance, and people without any socks that match.

I even belong to the International Brotherhood of Bachelors. Our secret call sign is
(Finger to lips) IIII BBB BBB. III BBBB BBBBB.

Lot of great men were bachelors. Sherlock Holmes was portrayed as a bachelor. Sir Isaac Newton, Cerino DeBergerac and Casanova were bachelors, also St. Paul, President Buchanan, Voltaire and almost all the Popes. King Henry the VIII kept trying to be one. The Lone Ranger was single, Sam Spade and of course Jesus the Christ not to mention Daffy Duck, and I’m sure it's hard to believe, but the three Stooges where bachelors too.

I've become so dishearten and lonely lately that I've quit looking for the right woman in my life and now I'm going to do my best with the wrong ones.

The best I can do is hold on to my Peter pan, lost boy image and my humor.
I learned these words of wisdom from my grandfather a long time ago. "If the women don't find you handsome you need to have 'em find you handy and if your not handy, you’ve got to relay on your humor to distract them from the other two".

Now I know I'm not butt crack ugly. I do look good in a way. But it's mostly from far way. I do have a body of a twenty year old, course if you want to see it; it's in the trunk of my car.

Cause of that I'm having to relay on my humor to find my way into a woman's heart, so I'd really appreciated if you laugh at my jokes even if it's only because you think I'm pathetic.

And I'm not too handy, I can figure things out it's just that my hands don't know what they’re doing. Like when it comes to installing electrical wiring in a house. I know how to do it. But when I get done the firemen always come.

You would also add to my list of qualities, that I’m a little lazy.
Like I said, I can think things out; it’s just that I don’t have the gum’chin to do ‘em. Like once when I wanted to dig a garden in my backyard. But was too lazy to do it. So I got the police to come dig up my garden for me by telling 'em I'd been burying bodies back there.

That's why whenever I do get a new girlfriend I always have her over and start cleaning my house in front of her and look real pathetic and incompetent in doing it. Cause sometimes they'll pitch in or better yet even take over. Course if that doesn't work, I try bartering with her....like I trade housekeeping chores for doing her income taxes... I figure by the time the IRS catches up to her, me and her will probable be broken up anyway.

With that comment I'm sure it’s hard for you to believe that I am single. I have been married though. I remember when she came to tell me how her feelings for me had changed. So I said fine, return the wedding ring I gave to you. She said, no, my feelings for the ring haven't changed.

Thank you. Enjoy the Blog.

The team will be working on this Blog soon so don't think this is the funniest it gets. Come back in a day or two and watch what's happened