Busy Doin' Nothin'
What? Don Knotts is Dead?
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"Well, Goll- Eeeeeee!". Hang on, thats Jim Nabors.
Tell me it isnt true.
For some reason, whilst sipping white russians and contemplating the impending apocalypse (actually, the world ended yesterday, didn’t you get the memo?), I thought of Don Knotts. A most unusual looking fellow, he starred in an amazing amount of movies that I thought were crap growing up. But he sure made me laugh cos’ he looked goofy.
The Ghost and Mr Chicken, The Reluctant Astronaut, Shakiest Gun in the West, to name three. I had kinda forgotten that he existed, to tell you the truth, but when I subjected his name to a rape by Wikipedia, I found a dearth of information. Seemed he was active right up ’til his untimely death in 2006.
Roles abounded in television shows such as Three’s Company, Scooby Doo and even Robot Chicken. Hell, he was Turkey Lurkey in Chicken Little, fer chrissakes. I don’t know how I coulda missed all that stuff. Apparently, he was on Matlock as a regular character with his old compadre Andy Griffiths, but, uh, I must’ve been watching Murder She Wrote or Father Dowling at the time.
So three cheers for your willy or John Thomas. And slap ‘em together for a man that existed in an age where looking like a goggle eyed freak didn’t necessarily mean being beaten to death with a cricket bat on christmas day.
Don Knotts, wherever you are, I raise my rapidly emptying glass to ya. Every time I am unfortunate enough to see a poor bastard that is unfortunate enough to slightly resemble you, I suppress a quiet laugh and marvel at the innocence we have lost with your humble passing.
So until the Apple Dumpling Gang rides again, again, here’s to you, Donald Knotts.
Final Crisis in Infinite Comiczones?
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Ooooooooooh, hello there Perth, Western Australia, in particular all you little comic book readers. You ARE a funny little spastic group aren’t you? Allow me to introduce myself, for I am the Perth Comic Book Cunt. Perhaps your eyes and mine have locked together in mad orgasms of desire whilst we peruse the latest releases in our favourite funny book haunt (or it could even have been on one of my infrequent trips to the Comiczone).
Yes, thats right, I’M the bitchy Perez Hiltonesque Mr Humphries of Perth Graphic Fiction gossip. Mmmmm Hmmmm, darlings. I’ll be dishing the dirt on Perth’s comic book elite, throwing aside the veiled curtain on those most interesting of perth-onalities, the staff and customers of your favourite establishments. But enough of this blathering about me, lets get our saucy little rumour mongering started, and what a doozy I have for you today, you lucky little vaseline smeared weirdos.
Is it my (admittedly large) imagination or is the grand king of Perth Comics, Owen “Uncle Oz” Roberts not looking as robust as usual these days? His once majestic facial features have of late been compromised, deep deep bags line his decreasingly delightful peepers, and his once bronzed complexion has made way for skin paler than Liza Minellis cellulite riddled ass.
Rumours persist of bizarre fainting spells, frequent short closures of the ‘zone for violent bursts of diahorrea and vomiting , and a few customers have even remarked on the flatulent atmosphere that seems to line the store with increasing frequency (Mind you, comic fans themselves aren’t the most hygenic lot.).
What to make of it all? Go and visit and make up your own mind, if you can. It just might be one of the last times that you see the goofy old Metal Licker, if these abovementioned rumours have just one grain of truth. If, however, you border on the cynical side, feast yo peeps on this documented photographic evidence
Owen in slightly healthier times (and the other two blokes in this photo don't look so healthy either.)
Need I say more Perth O Sexuals? Probably not, but I will, anyway. I propose that we all inundate Comiczone with well wishes and air kisses. After all, you just never know when a well worn relic can expire and disappear from our lives. Why, I just don’t know who I’ll litter my revoltingly maciavellian man love fantasies about when, er I mean if Owen Bear kicks the bucket.
Oh yeah., we still got Templedick. And his faithful manservant Slopey.
Anyway, don’t be a stranger, especially if you’re tall, dark and not on the verge of dying in the next 5 hours. Call in to Comiczone, and tell ‘em the Comic Cunt sent ya.
Toodles, darlings.
Lego my ego
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Lego is celebrating its 922nd anniversery, and some budding goddamn Adolf Einstein has decided that to commemorate this significant occasion, why not have a bit of fun. While not actually going as far as I may have hoped, for example releasing an Albert Hitler lego figure, they have peered into the abyss and come up with a few truly surprising choices, some of which we will feature here at Beloved Aunt Enterprises. First cab off the rank? Why that wholesome attractive songstress that the whole world has taken to their collective over ripe left tit.
Where's me *%#@in' Lego Pipe and %$#@in' Lego Crack?
Please note: No hoper convict husband not included.
