Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Unintentional Jokes Are Always The Best Jokes

So, I'm sitting there in English class on Sunday feeling bored, tired, and using all my mental focus to try to push the hands of time into fast-forward mode when the unexpected happened........I almost had to use that spare "break into glove compartment in case of emergency" panties because I was laughing so hard I nearly peed myself.
I LOVED my English 1302 Professor this semester. She's helpful, and uber smart, plus she introduced us to a lot of interesting literature not found in the ho-hum assigned books.
As our Professor was reviewing possible title selections to write about for our Final Exam she mentioned a poem we read last month. Below is a verbatim account of the dialogue that followed:
"You guys are welcome to write on The Pope's Penis if you want, but remember, it's VERY short so you'll have some difficulty with it."
It's so completely sacrilegious and yet so holy robe-shaking, papal hat-quaking FUNNY!
Come on, don't be shy, admit that you're at least semi interested in checking out The Pope's Penis.
And now you can tell everyone that you saw The Pope's Penis right here on The Smiling Infidel.
Viva la highbrow poetry!

It hangs deep in his robes, a delicate

clapper at the center of a bell.
It moves when he moves, a ghostly fish in a
halo of silver seaweed, the hair
swaying in the dark and the heat -- and at night
while his eyes sleep, it stands up
in praise of God.

Thursday, November 05, 2009

Who's Afraid Of The Big Bad KISS?

Well, for starters, I AM!

Yeah, I'll admit a child I was freakin terrified of KISS, KISSes, KISSing and all things KISS-related.
You might say that these mutated monsters of metal music scared me KISS-less.
My degenerate second cousin used to have his room wallpapered with freaky KISS posters.
Consequently, I was too scared as a 6-year old to even tiptoe past his room if the door was open enough for me and KISS to make any sort of eye contact.
My cousin thought this was absolutely hilarious and he made it his life mission to terrorize me as much as possible.
I'll never forget the day he stood outside his closed door and told me that he replaced all his KISS posters with pictures of Kenny Rogers. Then he asked me if I'd like to go in and see for myself.
Let me add that this was Kenny Rogers in his pre-chop shop cosmetic surgery days. Fear the reaper, man but don't fear the Kenny Rogers!
I got one foot in the door before my cousin shoved me in the rest of the way. Then he simultaneously slammed and barricaded the door thus trapping me inside his hellish KISS torture chamber.
He stood outside laughing while I screamed hysterically and banged on the door to get out.
This probably goes a long way towards explaining why him and his KISS obsession are currently sitting on Death Row in the Indiana State Penitentiary.
Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be KISS fanatics.
Which brings me to the main point of my post.....I was serving duty as a reader for my Melody's first grade class a couple weeks ago.
Since it was close to Halloween, I asked the kids what they were going to dress up as.
There was the usual assortment of princesses, fairies, Batman, vampires, etc. but then one dimpled and gap-toothed little boy excitedly blurted out, "I'm going as Gene Simmons from KISS for Halloween!!! Do you know who he is?!?!?"
Uh yeah kid, as a matter-of-fact I DO know who he is.
Me and Gene Simmons kind of have an awkward history between us.
So, a six-year old dressing up as Gene Simmons. That's fantastic! I only hope that he went trick-or-treating with a mini Alice Cooper tossing bloody Barbie heads about.
Oooh, and maybe a pint-sized version of Ozzy Osborne with his trademark headless bat dangling out of his mouth too just to make a complete set of inappropriate children's costumes!
No word on if the Gene Simmons get-up came with a pointy prosthetic tongue and a patch of glue-on chest hair. I'm fairly positive that the Plastic Playboy Playmate companion is sold separately.