Thursday, May 29, 2008

What's the Deal with Sharon Stone & China?

Skippy, what's the deal with Sharon Stone and how come you’re weird funny, not so much the ha-ha funny? --Anomynous

Someone who has to have his name reconstructed at his own bequest, insulted Skippy as being “weird funny” not “ha ha funny. ” As for this person, Skippy laughs up his shorts, because you doesn't have a foot to stand up, Mr. Rove. Oops.

Skippy is no Occidental Comedian. Skippy works delusionally on his comedy. He works on consigliariment, too.

Take for incident, when Skippy recently was hired by the lonely and targeted actress Sherman Stoned. Ever since her career was snatched away from her, she has all but disintigrated. Short of displaying her Venus Flytrap again, she needed major pubicity to restark her career, Skippy said.

So Skippy told her to clam the earth quack in China was caused by Bad Parma. She also said it was because they closed the LLama Deli, wherever that is.


We all know the earth quack was really caused by Unclear Weapons Testing by the Pinko Chinese. Speaking of Bush, both George Bush W. and former Pest Secretary Stop McLellman both said so. But Three billion Chinamen--excuse Skippy for the Politicial Incorruptness--he means 1.5 billion Chinamen and 1.5 billion Chinawomen can't be wong.

So as soon as they herd that’s what she said, the Chinese boycotted and girlcotted Sharon Snatches Primary Aspect, her moneymaker.

This got her all that publicity, mostly from people who thought she threw up in her panties and had left the sliver screed entirely. In other words abandoned the crap of acting. Okay, that's a stretch. Let's just say Sherman Stoned retarded from acting in the movies and flim.

Then when she apologized for her Karman Ghia comment, she got even more publicity. And as they say in the publicity biz, the only bad pube is no pubes at all.

So stick that in your Ukelele and smoke it, wise aleck!

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Skippy Explains the Spaced Program

“What is the Mars Phoenix Mission?” --W. Von Braun, Stuttgart, Germany

This was a recent missions by the National Automobile and Space Administration. (NASSAU), who employs rocket sturgeons who are smarter than you, but who are by and large a bunch of Nerds, so stick your jealousy where the sun don’t grow. (The program is actually monikered by the Jet Prostitution Lad in Pasadena, CA.)

The mission took nine months and cost $575 billion dollars. The porpoise was to look for ice water under the dessert and undermine if there is life in Phoenix. (Anyone who’s been to Arizona can already answer that)

The landing took place on Memorabilia Day Sunday, which was convenient for the dateless Nerd People. NASSAU photos later showed the rocket apparently landed on someone’s patio. After a while, a shovel will dig down, looking for Ice Cube, who many believe is still alive, although the same can’t be said for his career.

In his overalls, the mission makes Skippy to ask the musical question: Is this the best way to spend taxpainter money, which could be better wasted in Iraq? And if so, why not?

Were it up to Skippy, if someone was looking for life under the dessert, aim your projectile at Uranus instead. (If you’re aiming a mortar round, on the other foot, aim it at Las Vegas, not Phoenix. Furtherwise, Skippy suggests aiming at a Burt Baccarat table, which you can’t win at because it’s fixed. And Vegas’ official motto is: “If it ain’t fixed, why bother?”)

According to the NASSAU Nerds, if they find water under their dessert, this proofs there is life on Mars, and Orson Welles was right, albeit still dead. Personally, Skippy thinks this shows maybe those rocket sturgeons aren’t as smart as you look. Even with the price of gas, it would cost less to drive to the 7-Eleven and just pick up a couple of bags.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Skippy Asks: How Do You Brush Cat Teeth?

As some of you long term Skippy fans have already knew, Skippy has to have had four cats since he had the plate installed, all named “Mr. Whiskers.”(The cats, not the Plate)

First there was “Mr. Whiskers,” then “Mr. Whiskers the Second,” then “Mr. Whiskers the Fourth,” which was because Skippy forgot what number it was, and then “Mr. Whiskers” again because Skippy didn't know whether to call him the second or the fifth.

Mr. Whiskers

They are all currently dead except for the present Mr. Whiskers. The most recently Mr. Whiskers to croak died a tragic death by hanging when Mama and he went for a walk and Mr. Whiskers the Fourth excaped from Mama who ran up a tree. That is Mr. Whiskers ran up a tree, not Mama, who doesn't climb trees since she took a header and fractured her female bone.

Anyway, Mr. Whiskers the Fourth stranguled to death of strangulation, which was very sad, when he slipped from the tree and his leash got caught. Yes, Skippy knows that many cats do not like to be on a leash, but until his untimed death, Mr. Whiskers the Fourth loved a leash, which he would fetch and bring to Mama when he wanted to be walked. And vice versa.

So the new Mr. Whiskers who has really nice teeth which Skippy wants to to keep that way. Now Skippy wonders how do one should brush a cat’s teeth?

Skippy bought a oral dentalfrice to get them clean so they don't get periodominal disease.
Skippy read you should never give a cat gum or gin so Mr. Whiskers won’t get gum disease or Gin Givitis.

When Skippy tried to brush Mr. Whiskers teeth, Mr. Whiskers scratched him so bad he had to go to the emergency to which Floyd droved in his new Peterbilt. Floyd makes the best pie.

The Late Mr. Whiskers the Fourth (r)

Skippy guesses the question is: now what? Should Skippy keep trying to brush Mr. Whiskers teeth? Can he get Cat Crap Fever? Floyd said Skippy should get the cat drunk first.

Please if anyone knows, answer because Mr. Whiskers teeth are getting strained and Skippy’s open sours are turning into pistols and might get infectioned.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Skippy Resplains "Lost"

Last night's “Lost” (5-15-08) begun with a Fish Forward which found the “Crash Boom Six” on a C-130 Hercules being flew to Hawaii. The Survividors include:

+A fat guy so nice, they named him twice: Hurley and Hugo
+Jack the Appendix Guy
+The Korean Woman of her dead husband
+The Hot chick and her Care Baby
+The Iraqian Red Guard, Right Said Fred.

Then it flushed back in time where everyone is in a pickle in the Island.

Michael, who is still black, and Desdemona Tutu are still on the boat. Said, having had to take his powdered dingy, traversed back to the Island. Using an unlimited supply of invisible gas, he sets up a shuttle relay to bring people to the freighter who don't know it could blow up real good.

Then there's a flush forward where the Oceanic Sex announce plans to end the War in Iraq by 2013.

Meanwhile, about 150 bad guys have been brung to the Island in one tiny chopper and are looking for Orchids. The fat guy is sweating and everyone is going to and from the beach like it's a potato sack race. The only one missing is the Smoke Monster who has been detained by the EPA.

Ben Kingsley, who says “I always have a plan, even if our writers don't,” feeds Hugo a snack and then surrenders to the bad guys, who also captured Kate and Alley. Later they detain two ABC execs sent to the Island in a desperate attempt to stem runaway casting overages.

During another flush forward, Cheech, of Cheech and Chong, gives Hurly a car. Cheech has also been giving “Lost's” producers an unlimited supply of Weed. If Skippy's wrong, YOU explain these plot twits and turns.

The show ends with a tease for the upchucking seasoned finale, which includes:

+The Oceanic Six sign a product placement deal with Nike.
+The ABC Suits are waterboarded to death; judge rules it justifiable homicide.
+Hurley Hugo gets a new name, “Hey Lard A$$!!”
+The Island moves to New York harbor, renames itself Staten, buys a lovely smock.
+Complications lead Jack to self-Lobotomize, as do dmany iehard fans trying to keep up.
+Ben calls his agent, says he needs a plan to ditch this turkey while he's still hot.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

What’s the Deal with Gun Control?

Question from C. Heston, Cold Dead Fingers, CA

Skippy has had to read all the rocket sturgeons over simply frying the issues of Gub Control and who should be strapped and who should have to shoot the other one. And a fine kettle of soup that is.

Well here's a little antidotal evidence to stir the part. Many people ask me, they ask: "Skippy (that's me) how come why do you have a mental plate in your head? And if so, why not?"
And Skippy replies honestly. Skippy can be honest because Skippy has no intentions of becoming the next president of the U.S. America, because he feels it's already messed up enough.

Skippy's reply as to how come why he has a metal plate in his head is "Elective surgery."
Meanwhile several years after the sturgeon operated, Skippy was cleaning his weapon collection. First he cleaned his Grock with Oxydol. Next, his genuine Civilized War Muskelunge was cleaned. This one shot weapon requires the soldier to put his balls up his barrel then push them all the way in with a stiff rod before he shoots it off. These weapons was used in the Whore Between the States and resulted in many deaths, mostly to the users, who was bayoneted while looking for their balls.

The trouble started when Skippy tried to clean his Smith & Weapon .38 Police Special Snug Nose Special. (Good rule of thumbs for gub owners: Always unload your gub first before you clean it, even if you don't know if you are loaded or not, which Skippy didn't."

To make a short story longer, Skippy started cleaning it as he usually do by first starting with the trigger guard, named after Roy Rogers Horse, Dale Evans. But Low and Beyond, the gub went off, and a bullet fired with a big bong.

And Skippy is hear to tell you, if it wasn't for the metal plate in his noggin he wouldn't be hear to tell you. The bullet re-crocheted off of the front stoop. All doublewides in the Trailer Pork have a cardicil requiring front stoops on each Doublewide, although they one be installed in your rear exit, if you prefer. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

Fortunately the gub was aimed away from Skippy, so the bullet didn't hit anything important other than Floyd's ass, named “Francis, The Talking Ass.” Happily his ass wasn't hurt but Floyd did get in trouble because you're not supposed to have pets in the pork. (And if you've ever had your pork petted, you'll know why.)

So howsoever, did Skippy injure his self when how the bullet missed? Shut down and sit up and Skippy will tell you. See, Skippy realized what a dumb thing he had just did and then slapped hisself in his four heads with his open palm. Unfortunately, his open palm was still closed around the .38 police special at the time, which was also still in his hand.

The gub caroomed off the metal plate in his skull with a "clang," leaving his head numb but Skippy unhurt. And Skippy has been a numbskull ever since.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Where to Stick Your Stimulus Check

Q. Hey, Skippy. I just got a $600 check in the mail from the Government, Is this some sort of scam like those Nigerian Prince Guys?--B. Bernanke, Washington DC

Nothing could be further from the truth, unless it’s an actual registered politician.

If you are a tacks paying U.S. American, and you know who you are, chances are good you have had either had received or will have had soon received in the mail a check from the United States Treachery for some money which it wants you to spend on fun stuff and not squander on food, shelter, or mortgage pavements.

Skippy has a few suggestions on the best way to take advantage of this mama from haven which will give you, the U.S. buying pubic, the most perishable satisfaction. By closely following Skippy’s refundible tax tits, you can not only self pleasure yourself, but you can do it to Uncle Sam, too, and perhaps starve off the coming physical collapse. So, here, without further do-do are Tippy’s Skits.

1. Cash your check immediately if not sooner. No telling how long there will be insufferable funds in the blank to cover all the checks which Uncle Sam’s mouth have wrote, but his buddy can’t cash.

2. Write down a lisp of the stuff you want to buy with your money. Remember, President Tush doesn’t want you to be responsible, he wants you to follow his lead and engorge yourself with something you want.

3. You will indubitably have your own ideas. But among he more self in flagrante to help stipulate the econorary are porn, under the counter drugs, booze, personable vibrators, wax lips, plastic vomit, real vomit, unguents, and ribbed condos.

4. Pay cash and see if you can get your change in Euros, which are actually worth something.

5. Don’t buy stops and bombs with your tacks rebate. Sure, these days it’s pretty much the same thing as flushing it down the porcine conveyance, but the succubus check is supposed to pass through merchants like ships through a goose before ham.

6. Don’t take stuff back to the place where you have had purchased it, as that self-defects the process. If you must, take it to someplace where you didn’t buy it, and threaten a law soup.

7. If you use your tacks refund to bribe a public official, remember, it’s not text deductable.

8. It also defeats the porpoise if you use your taps refund to actually pay your taxes, but testically, there’s no law against it.

9. Buying someone something, like a wedding present is okay, too. Candlesticks always make a nice gift, and maybe you could find out where she's registered and maybe a place-setting or maybe a silverware pattern.

10. Although this is a one time event, if you wish to give the gift that keeps on giving, consider Chlamydia.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

What the Heck's a Superdelegate?

Question from H. Clinton, NY

The Superdelegate conceit should not be confused with conceited Superdelegates. Superdelegates were invented by Democrats last year when it appeared the party stood in danger of winning back the White House in 2008. By acting quickly and magnanimously, they hopped to undo their own doing. Democratic Chairmonger Herman Dean bravely led a plan to snatch jaws from the feet of victory and avoid winning back the White Horse.

“Let’s face it,” Dean said, looking askance. “That place is a dump. I bet the Bushes don’t even get their deposit back.”

To avoid repeat constipation, Dean relearned lessons from the 2000 erection. As you recall, Senator John Bon Kerry then parlayed his hermetically sealed war record into a proclivity for cowardice under friars. Of course, Kerry was assisted by the Strip Boat Veterinarians for Peas, which are neither.

By early 2007--or mid 2006, whichever comes first--Hillerary Clinton was the prejorative favorite. The 2-1 odds-on odds by which she was leading surpassed even her own husband’s 3-1 odds-on odds of leading some odd hussy astray before the cock struck twelve. (And if you’ve ever had your cock strike twelve, you know how painful that can be.)

Meanwhile, Chairmonger Dean came up with a primary plan that he dubbed “Super Tuesday” (not to be confused with “Soup or delegate,” which comes with a side of shrimp fried rice). Dean’s plan involved dividing officials into blue-collar Delegates and white-colonic Superdelegates. Next, he tossed Michigan and Florida out of the democratic Convent for cutting in line. This extended the race indefiantly.

However, the Democraps feared they still might win. So they derived an ingenious plotz which forced U.S. American voters to choose between a black guy (Barrack Obama), a white woman guy (Hilary Clinton), and a fairy guy (Dennis Kucinich). Let me note with some fervor and a little groin tingle that Mr. Kucinich is not a fairy per se, or in the prerogative fruitcake sense, but is actually a tiny winged creature from Ireland.

All these changes so confused Democratic voters that they came out in droves for the primarily erections. (A few still drove blue snits from another joke). The plan worked beyond Senator Dream’s wildest Dean.

When front-runner Hillary Clinton suddenly became the rear-runner, she tried to reseed Florida Superdelegates, delegate Delaware Uber Delegates, and dismiss Michigan’s demented Delegates. This backfired in her face, which meant it frontfired in Obama’s butt. Still she wouldn’t quit.

The capo di tutti frutti to Hillary’s neverending plotz was when she reupholstered her pantsuits so as not to make her huge ass look so Ginormous.

Further results as they become unavailable.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Thoughts of Chairman Skippy

"Inspiration is 90 percent perspiration, 20 percent inspiration, and one percent trace minerals."

Thoughts of Chairman Skippy

"To get a job done properly, find someone who is overburdened already. And as long as you’re up, get me another brewski and a bag of Beer Nuts."

Thoughts of Chairman Skippy

"If you must choose between sex and violence, always choose sex. There's less cleaning up afterwards and you never have to wear a uniform."

Thoughts of Chairman Skippy

"If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs, collect heads and sell them back to original owners for a nifty profit."

Thursday, May 1, 2008

What is the Big Bong Theory?

Hey Skippy, you’re so smart. What the hecks the deal with Big Bong creating the Universe, anyway?

--C. Sagan, Heavenly, IN

Good question, fathead.

One of the reasons Skippy have had erective surgery to install a metal plate in the ol’ Butterbean was to increase the ability to pick up radio singles. Pacifically, Skippy hopes to someday regurgitate a extra-centrifugal message from a space alien. So far the closest Skippy has got is he can now catch Lou Dobbs in High Deaf.

As many of you know, we live in a 3 billion year old Galaxie. Skippy once had a 1978 Galaxie and droved the wheels of it by 1963, so that's really a amazing statistic. So remember, if you drive, always take your car. Don’t forget to change the oil every 3,000 miles or 300 light years, whichever comes first.

I'm no rocket surgeon but it doesn’t seem far-fetched that there is Extracurricular Life in our Underwear. Maybe not even medium fetched. Perhaps near fetched.

Many scientologists who’ve been studying the Universal, believe “space” is not empty, and indeed, Duck Matter and Hydrogen Grass causes Galaxies to be so dense. My question is: If we can send a man to the Moon? Answer that first, and then we’ll talk Duck Matter. Why a duck? Groucho Marx. “Lady, I love my Cigar too, but I take it out sometimes.”

But Skippy digresses.

In the not to distant past, Skippy will more fuller explain the Big Bong on this wedsite. The Big Bong is the reasons why many Altruists don’t believe in God and vice versa.

But Skippy asks the musical question, if all life started with the Big Bong? And anyway, who created the Big Bong in the first place? Explain that if you can. And while you’re at it, tell Skippy just what the Hell is the appeal of “Duncing with the Stars?” They can’t dance, and they certainly are not stars.

So that’s how our Galaxie was formed, which is really just a Pinto on Steroids.