Movie Review of "STAR TREK" by Bill S. Hatner

To boldly go where no man has gone before. To BOLDLY go where no man has gone before? That phrase meant something once upon a time. Well, I have news for you, a man has been there before. A talented man. A man who can easily make the transition from drama to action to comedy and back again. A man who not only acts, but is a successful businessman, pitchman and philanthropist.

A renaissance man who is just as comfortable on the stage as he is on the back of a horse. A man who can make love to a woman while quoting Shakespeare as he watches the fourth quarter of the game. Now that is a bold man.

That man as you may have guessed is Mr. William Shatner.

I've never met the man, but I hear he is remarkable.

Once upon a time that man, a virile man, a man's man, helmed the Starship Enterprise, not a 90210 wannabe, whose eyelashes are longer than his resume and who looks like he'd be more comfortable in a salon chair instead of a captain's chair.

This is James Tiberius Kirk? I think not!

William Shatner, who has over 50 years acting experience and is the universal face of Star Trek, was snubbed by the director of this remake or pre-quel or whatever they're calling this farce.

They wanted to go in a new direction. Jump start the franchise. Go to the beginning, or so I hear. Funny, Nimoy's phone was ringing but not Shatner's.

Like I said, I've never met the man, but I'm sure his feelings were hurt. Of course they were. He is human after all, even if he appears, shall we say, more than human.

It's not like he doesn't have anything else to do you know. He is an extremely busy and sought after singular talent, who is constantly turning down work, or so I hear.

The way I look at it, it's the director's loss.

As far as the movie goes, I couldn't sit through it. I kept getting a nagging feeling that something was missing, something important.

I think we all know what that is.

J J Abrams, William Shatner's number is unlisted, but I think you might want to try getting in touch with him before you start filming the sequel.

He'll be expecting your call, along with an apology. Just don't call before ten, he likes to sleep late, or so I'm told.

Public Service Announcement: By V P Joe Biden

Hello there my fellow Americans, Vice President Joe Biden here.
Today is May 5th, a perfect day to further express my views that were first espoused on the Today Show with Matt Lauer.
May 5th, or as our neighbors to the south say it, cinco de mayo, is a fitting day to discuss the terrible disease these generous neighbors have presented us with, Swine Flu.
When Matt Lauer asked me if I would tell members of my family not to use commercial airlines, I answered honestly, something I thought the American public would appreciate.
Apparently not. I guess you want me to tip toe around the issue, but I'm not going to do it.
As a matter of fact I'm going to let you all know how I really feel, public opinion polls be damned.
Stay away from all closed "container like" forms of transportation. Airplanes, subways, anything of that nature as I previously mentioned. I wouldn't even get in my own car at this point.
Do not use ATM vestibules, you might as well pick out your coffin now if you go into one of those death traps.
Keep out of anyplace that sells Mexican food or any place, for that matter, where Mexicans might congregate. Good luck to you poor bastards in states that border Mexico. Its been nice knowing you.
Avoid anyone with a Spanish accent, they could be Mexican. Better yet avoid anyone with any form of accent that doesn't sound American. If you don't you'll be bleeding from every orifice on your body within hours. Trust me, I've seen it.
Lock yourselves in your homes, secure the premises, barricade the doors and windows, load your firearms. If anyone attempts to enter your premises, give them a warning shot and then start firing!
Now, listen, it is not my intention to cause a wide spread panic, I'm just trying to look out for my own, of which I consider all Americans. I want us all to be safe and healthy.
That being said I'm warning anyone who coughs or sneezes within 10 feet of me I will be carrying a sidearm, and I'm a damn good shot.
Final words: Avoid everyone and everything and you might manage to stay alive.
Be safe. Be smart. Be careful.
Good Luck and God Speed!!

New Met Gary Sheffield Has Altercation With Carlos Beltran's Mole

Trouble seems to follow major league baseball player Gary Sheffield around like a dark cloud. The 40 year old slugger, who has played for numerous teams in his long career, has yet another altercation to add to a growing list.
Sheffield, who claims to be very happy as a role player for the New York Mets, said this latest incident is not his fault.
"Listen, I may have had my share of troubles in this league over the years, but in this case I am totally innocent. I let a lot of things roll off my back, especially now that I'm 40, but some things I just can't let slide. I'm a bona fide Hall of Famer, I'm not gonna let some birth mark tell me how to swing the bat and play the outfield. I refuse to be bullied and badgered by a mole on someone's face, no matter how big and ugly it is," said Sheffield.
The problem seems to have started almost immediately upon the arrival of Sheffield to the team. The mole, which is next to Beltran's right ear, seemed to take an instant dislike to the veteran slugger.
"I did nothing wrong, except maybe I stared at it a little too often. I guess I've never seen one that big up close before. Maybe it took offense to my staring and dry heaving. I don't know. This thing hated me from the moment I arrived in the clubhouse. It caused me to miss a routine fly ball in left field the other night, and then made fun of me later for it. That's bush league right there! I won't tolerate that!"
Beltran seems to be unaware of the growing animosity between his mole and Sheffield, and when questioned just smiled and said that it has nothing to do with him and he chooses to stay out of the fray.
Asked why no one else has had any problems with Beltran or his mole before, Sheffield shrugged and cited possible racism.
"Let's get one thing understood, I love Carlos Beltran. He is one of the nicest guys I have ever met. I have no problem with him whatsoever. But that mole is pure evil man, I'm telling you. It calls itself 'El Capitan' and controls Carlos's actions without him even knowing it. Why do you think he didn't swing at that pitch in game 7 against the Cardinals in the 2006 NLCS? Why do you think he doesn't slide lately? It's that damn 'El Capitan'!"
Sheffield seems to be deeply angered by the mole and there is growing concern on the team that something physical is bound to happen between the two.
"I'm happy here. My time in the league is short, and I want to end it with the Mets, but if that nasty mother keeps messin' with me, I'll bite that raisinette lookin' sucker right off and spit it in the toilet." DD

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

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

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