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Wednesday, March 25, 2009

THEATER REVIEW


By The BROTHERS BARRYMORE


Our love of fine theater is well documented. My brother Lionel and I search high and low for talented thespians honing their skills on Shakespeare, Chekhov, Tennessee Williams and the like. Theater is in our blood, and that blood, as you surely are aware, flows blue.



Our travels this week bring us, unfortunately, to Hiawatha Elementary School's 4th grade production of "Stone Soup."

Let us begin with the best part of the play, it was, thankfully, one performance only.
A more hideous display I cannot recall. The abysmal costumes and deplorable set designs looked as if they were all home-made.
Could this possibly be true in this day and age?
This dreadful production performed by a group of untalented and immature actors was akin to eating rancid leftovers from a truckstop dumpster.
The performance took place in the school's cafeteria.
Yes, you read that correctly, the school's cafeteria, under flourescent lights no less.
The audience was forced to sit on cold, hard metal folding chairs, which were haphazardly strewn around the room. What an unprofessional way to treat a paying audience!


Well, my brother is being exceedingly kind in his assessment of this performance. My review can be summed up in one word. C-R-A-P.
I can't remember spending a worse evening in all my life.
"Stone Soup"? What a ridiculous name for a play! I thought this was going to be one of those avant-garde Sam Shepard plays. Boy was I mistaken. This slop sounded like it had been written by a mentally challenged ten year old. Stone Soup indeed.
The male lead actor, let me read my amateurish program here, one Zach Bergstein, couldn't stop sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. I was enraged! I was ready to drag him off stage by his hair and scrape that running nose on the sidewalk outside.
The entire cast was awful. Unprepared. Unconvincing.
The audience was full of moronic turds, clapping and whistling incessantly. One beastly woman sitting next to me stood up and clapped each time one particular little boy appeared on stage. She would then plop into her chair, her massive thighs banging into me, and would turn to me and say, "That's my Brandon." This went on a few times until I could take no more. I took my cane with the brass handle and rapped her twice over the head, drawing blood and knocking her unconscious. I have my limits you know.



My brother tends to get a bit dramatic at times, which is completely understandable in a family such as ours. I've had to pay off numerous theater goers over the years from calling the authorities on Lionel, especially when he gets overly physical.

I folded up a fifty and placed it in the woman's coat pocket and wrapped my pocket handkerchief over her head wound, it was dark, no one noticed.



Please don't make excuses for me, dear brother, I am fully responsible for my own behavior. Let's get through this damn review already so I can drink my double scotch.

This shabby production proceeded without an intermission.
WITHOUT AN INTERMISSION!!
Unheard of! Classless pigs!

When the lights finally turned back on (thankfully right after I retrieved the fifty my foolhardy brother placed in that sow's coat pocket) the theater erupted in applause, as everyone, save John and I, stood up and cheered. Cheers? Applause? If I had access to rotten fruit I would have hurled it at these talentless hacks!
In the back of the room was a table full of aluminum tins, containing what looked like home-made cookies, brownies, and powdered sugar coated bundt cakes. These putrid little actors bounded off stage and made a bee line right for these unsavory "treats".
John and I couldn't get out of that building fast enough.


Lionel and I disagree on a great many things: how long to make love to a woman; which hair pomade works best under hot lights; when to stare dramatically past your co-star to convey inner turmoil, but we are in total agreement on this matter. This performance was horrendous.
If you find yourself driving past Hiawatha Elementary School on 'Play Night', pin your accelerator to the floor and keep driving, you'll thank me.
(Next time the brothers will review Celebrity Cruise Line's production of Urinetown) DD

Monday, March 16, 2009

The Unsinkable B M: THE PRISON REPORT with Bernie Madoff





I love rice pudding. I love it more than money, so that will tell you how much I love rice pudding. Warm, cold, room temperature, it makes no difference. I like a sprinkle of cinnamon on it. Not a total covering of it mind you, just a quick sprinkle to enhance the flavor. Mmmm yummy.
Ruth, my wife, makes it exactly the way I love, the rice is perfectly cooked and the pudding is creamy. I am a purist though, no raisins in mine thank you. I have nothing against raisins, a fine little fruit, but not in my pudding.
Now, you may wonder why my first report from prison starts off with a rant about a pudding containing rice. It's complicated, and quite frankly, it may be over the heads of most lay people. I'll tell you what, forgive my bluntness, but I'll try and dumb it down for you.
I was told by a very reliable source that the prison is getting a shipment of Kozy Shack rice pudding, which in my expert opinion is one of the finest store brands available. It doesn't come near my dear Nana's recipe or even Ruth's for that matter, but it is a damn fine product nonetheless. I was beside myself when I heard the news. If I were capable of crying, I would have wept tears of joy. This prison thing isn't going to be so bad after all.
Now, here's the dilemma. It will only be available this week only. Apparently there is a rotating menu and the rice pudding won't be back in the mix until mid June. Mid June?? My heart sank.
I tried to reason with the warden, but to no avail. I found him to be an ill mannered man of very low intelligence. He laughed at me. HE laughed at ME! Can you imagine that? A man who makes possibly $80,000 a year laughing at me. Something must be done. Something will be done. Bernie needs his pudding.
Time is of the essence, I had to devise a plan. I spoke to a few of the neanderthals incarcerated here, and as luck would have it, most of them don't even like rice pudding. This to me is unimaginable. How can I spend the next 150 years locked up with people who don't enjoy one of life's greatest pleasures? Whatever, more for me.
I asked for a copy of the rotating menu, and as I scanned it, I wrote down all the possible desserts for the next 3 months.
As I quizzed some of these "gentlemen" about their favorite desserts, I noticed a recurring theme. Sno-balls. 1 out of 2 mentioned them, which I found out to be creme filled chocolate cakes covered with marshmallow and coconut flakes. Repulsive, but understandable when you're dealing with cavemen. The good news, no Sno-balls on the menu, at least for the next 3 months.
Are you still with me? Even when I try to speak simply enough to you people, I tend to lose you, which is one of the reasons I'm where I am today, I'm too smart for my own good.
Stay with me.
I told many of the inmates individually, that if he gave me his rice pudding this week, in a few weeks I would give him a Sno-ball each night from my tray, when supposedly they would be on the menu per the warden. I told this to about 180 morons, of which all I need is half. Gabeesh? Each one believes he is to recieve a week's worth of this crappy dessert from me. Idiots.
I also made an "arrangement"with a kitchen employee (the terms of which I cannot divulge at this time) who is clearing space for me in the walk-in refrigerator and freezer. I will be able to store a 3 month supply of rice pudding for myself until June and then repeat the whole scenario over again on these unsuspecting shmucks. This is the genius of Madoff.
What about the prisoners who are expecting Sno-balls you ask? Who cares. I will stall them. Tell them it will be coming the following week and then the following week and so on. I'll blame it on the warden, remove all my culpability.
Of course, to make this scam work I'm going to have to give a few of them a taste, which I will next time. This time the warden will be my patsy, next time someone else, and so it goes. These mindless mutants will think they're getting something from me, which of course, they shall not.
Bernie will get his rice pudding. Bernie is smarter than them. That's how it works.
Anyway,that's all that's going on. It's only been a few days, maybe I'll have few more nuggets of my wisdom for you next time.
Madoff signing out. DD

Friday, March 13, 2009

Family Grows World’s Largest Tomato Which Then Threatens To Kill Them


Boyd tomato after 1 week (top) and fully grown (above) with Kim & Gary Boyd in happier times

Sarasota, Fla. - The Boyd family has used their green thumb and fertile soil to grow magnificent, prize winning fruits and vegetables for over twenty years. But this time they’ve grown a prize winner that isn’t taking a back seat to them. The world’s largest tomato (according to Guinness), which weighed in at a whopping 127 pounds, was not amused at their blue ribbon celebrations.
“Media whores”, cried the mammoth tomato, as it rolled over and crushed the family dog, Snuffles, a miniature dachshund.
The Giant Belgium tomato, which is in the same family as the Big Beef, took over the garden and has now taken over the Boyd home.
“It threatens us on a daily basis,” said Kim Boyd, “each morning I wake to a message dripping in seeds and juice on my bathroom mirror, a message that usually contains some sort of threat to harm us.”
The tomato has brought a lot of interest to the Boyd home, scientists, farmers and various forms of media have converged on the property to investigate. Tests were run on the soil to determine the factors involved in growing a tomato of this size. The soil was found to be high in micronutrients, such as iron, copper, zinc and cobalt, which are commonly found in fertilized soil. Gary Boyd said along with extensive amounts of water and fertilizer, he added a mixture of seaweed and kelp to the soil. These additions, scientists say, are key ingredients in the growth of the tomato, but the main factor seems to be the large amounts of HGH and steroids found in the soil.
The area designated for growing fruits and vegetables in the Boyd back yard is surrounded by a fence which separates it from the adjoining property. The opposite side of the fence has an area where the owner keeps his garbage cans and dumps his compost. The owner of the adjacent property is former MLB player Jose Canseco.
“I guess that explains the size and aggressiveness of this particular tomato. The steroids must have seeped down into the soil from the neighbor’s refuse, resulting in the growth of this monstrosity,” said scientist Dr. Garrett Munson.
“It was the cutest little green tomato when it started to grow. We knew it was going to be special. If you told me that four months later that same tomato would try to kill me and my family I never would have believed you,” said Kim Boyd.
The growth of the Giant Belgium tomato was historic, resulting in a fully grown 127 pound world record breaker, the size of a Fiat and the disposition of a pit bull.
“When it reached its ultimate size and weight and started to turn red, we removed it from the vine, which had also grown to a massive size. 65 feet, I believe the vine was measured at. Of course even a vine of this size could not support the weight of a 127 pound tomato and had toppled over weeks ago”, said Gary Boyd.
“We contacted the local agriculture department and they told us that according to their records the previous world’s record tomato was 8 pounds, grown back in the 1980’s to a man in Oklahoma. We beat that record by over 15 times the size. We were so thrilled, until the tomato slowly, and systematically, began to ruin our lives.”
“The first few days were a whirlwind of excitement. Local newspapers and television reporters came by, and then once the people from Guinness got involved we became world wide celebrities. It was all pretty amazing,” said Gary Boyd.
The happiness quickly faded as the tomato became more and more aggressive, terrorizing the family.
"Things started to be missing; keys, mail, small items like that which were barely noticed. Then larger things like the laptop, the cat, and finally, my father who was visiting from Palm Beach. Then the threats started. We are completely terrified, but the authorities say it's out of their hands," said Kim Boyd.
The tomato should begin to rot in a few days, and everything should return to normal. Until then the Boyd family will do their best to survive and are looking forward to making one hell of a kick ass tomato sauce when it's all over.
(*Editor's Note: We contacted the people at Guinness, who tell us the record will contain an asterisk next to the Boyd name for the use of performance enhancing drugs.) DD

Man Gets Violently Sick After Eating Undercooked Ostrich Burger At County Fair


A usually conservative man decided to do something out of character during a recent trip to a county fair when friends dared him to eat a burger made from ostrich meat. After several bites of the "burger", Greg Weiss lost control of all his bodily functions and suffered partial paralysis of his facial muscles.
Greg Weiss, before and after the ostrich burger



"I believe the meat had been left out a little too long, possibly all night, and apparently was served completely uncooked," said Lucinda Boatswain, a worker at the booth selling the ostrich burgers, "I don't know how it happened, but it happened. What's done is done. This isn't a four star French restaurant for Christ's sake, it's a grill under a tarp. Stuff like this happens from time to time at a county fair. I thought that was understood. Tell him to grow up and be a man. I won't give him his money back, but I might see clear to give him a free fried pickle."
Weiss, who has been under a lot of stress at work in recent months, wanted to do "something different" and was encouraged by friends to join them for a day of care free frivolity at a local fair. He took a ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl, sang a karaoke version of "YMCA", and even joined in on a round of square dancing, all on dares from his friends.
"Greg usually frowns on places like this, but he actually seemed to be having a good time. Everything was going so well until that damn ostrich burger. I was shocked that he agreed to eat it. He had two, maybe three bites of it and bam that was it," said Don Cooper.
A day that began so well, with Weiss letting his guard down and trying new things, ended with him in diapers and a bib, cross-eyed and drooling.
"I suppose that's the last time he'll try ostrich meat, which I guess is a shame. They say it's much lower in fat than beef and when prepared properly is supposed to taste pretty good. Ok, if you say so, but I'll be damned if I'd try one at some rinky dink county fair," said Cooper,"there are certain things you eat at these places. Funnel Cake, absolutely. Sausage & Peppers, of course. Philly Cheese Steak, probably. Sushi, hell no. And now we know the answer to ostrich meat. Greg learned a valuable lesson today, and maybe in a couple of months if he recovers the power of speech he'll admit as much. Reckless fool." DD

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Tough Times Force Family To Live In Costco



The Werner family has decided that when life gives you lemons, you sleep on them.
Facing eviction and endless threatening phone calls from bill collectors, the family of five took a trip to the local Costco to forget their problems. Doing laps around the giant warehouse and filling up on the free samples of showcased food items was becoming a weekly ritual for the Werners. They so enjoyed themselves at Costco that one night just before closing they decided to stay, and have remained uninvited tenants for the past six weeks.
"I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner," said Bob Werner," this place has everything that we could possibly need. Food, clothes, entertainment, shoot, we could live here comfortably for years."
The manager of this particular Costco, Rich Bernier, has no idea that a family of five has been living in his store for over 42 days, and if any of the employees have figured anything out, they are not letting on.
"I might know something, then again I might not. Know what I mean? I make squat working here and the manager is a jerk, so if five people have been living here for free, and I'm not saying that they are, then more power to them. Screw Costco," said an anonymous agitated employee.
"They have the best baked goods, better than most independent bakeries. Everything is so big and filling. Their birthday cakes are not only delicious, but they're quite comfortable. There is so much icing on them that Bob uses them as a pillow each night. He swears by them," said Nancy Werner.
As the economy and unemployment rates spiral out of control, more and more families may follow the Werners example and enjoy the unintentional hospitality of Costco and their roomy warehouses.
"Geez, we're so happy here that we're thinking of naming our next child Kirkland." DD