Saturday, February 18, 2012

How To Make It In Show Biz, by Chucky Berry

First thing is get a good lawyer. Make sure he's a fat pilgrim. If he wears alligator skin undies then look no further. If his hair piece is rainbow color then he's the wrong tootsie for the pop. You need someone who takes themselves deathly seriously and a flamboyant hairdo is a big fat red flag that says, "I'm an idiot with a doctorate in computer math!"

Next up: You need the right look. And this is important. No matter what you look like, you'll need a makeover. I suggest Debby Cherry's Makeover Pavilion: America's first chain of makeover stores serving the ugly people of America since 1643 A.D. (dog years)

Step 3 will make or break your stank ass. To really make it in show biz, whether it's singing, actin', dancin', danzig, doin' the charleston thing-a-marangue, or just straight up old fashioned tom foolery at a pool party, you MUST wear a suit made of 100% corn. Remember that like it's your name.

Which brings us to the last rule of making it in showbiz. "Hello, my name is..." will either be the sentence to spark your career or the sentence that sentences you to jail. No parole. Throw away the key. "We don't need this character in Hollywood, Thank you! Take the bus home, idiot " See where I'm going with this?

Your name is the word people say to refer to you.

 And it's also how you address yourself so make sure it isn't "Shit Head" or "Cow Dick" or "Burger Daniel". You must pick a name that cries out to the world, "IMPORTANT PERSON". So here's a short list of good important and famous sounding names to work off of:

St. Nick
Jesus of Nazareth
Monopoly (Man)

So now that you have a good lawyer, your makeover is l@@kin' G@@d, fresh corn suit on, and your new name is Adolph or Furby, Go out and knock on every door you come in contact with.

And THAT'S how you make it in show biz.

- Chucky Berry

Chucky Berry is a master jingle writer at Nabisco

Thursday, February 09, 2012

Eye Candy

My favorite candy is eye candy. Now I know what you're thinking...

...and you thought right.

I like to suck on juicy eyeballs and squish them in my mouth and eat the veins!

- Gross Joe

Tim Bucket In Space

The fastest animal is a Cheetah. Everyone knows that. WRONG. The fastest animal is an alien from Planet 82. He knows no such confines as feet, legs, or DICK. He doesn't know DICK from TITS and that's because his kind evolved from the marshlands of North Xylokrang on Planet 82 where vapor is king and noxious gas is the coin of the realm, my friends.

As soon as I construct my jet pack suit I'll be seeing it all for myself and broadcasting my journeys live via Youtube. That is, if the space goblins accept me as one of their own.

Anyone have any green makeup?

- Tim Bucket

The Real Deal

When I was 26.5 years old Chinese dentists performed unspeakable acts of community theater unto me and my person. Me? Chucky Berry. My person? King Elf the Invaluable.

It all started when Me and my man King Elf the Invaluable bumped into each other at the local ice cream soda parlour fountain drugstore operation. I said, "Yo!" And he said "Yo!" and we pulled each other's pants up. (or "Pance" depending on which side of the swamp you like to barbecue on. )

Then all of a sudden out of nowhere Chinese dentists came out from under the pentagram in the assfault and berated and verbally castrated nosotros dos amigos. "Who flung poo!?" was a particularly loaded question pointed in MY direction.

For the record, I've never flung poo. Off the record, sure I have. But please don't print that in your college newspaper. If you do I'll do something crazy in your classroom like toss a backpack full of loose change across the floor or dress up like a baby.

And THAT'S the real deal.

- Chucky Berry

Chucky Berry is a part time editor for Reader's Digest's Digest.

Tuesday, February 07, 2012

Bar Stool Follies

My munchkin got let out the bag. Everybody gathered. He danced on the table as the band played "whistleman's dixie"
and I drank a full ton of beer by pouring it over my head and licking the trickle downs. 
The bartender's name is Boit (spelled Bert) and he keeps a samurai sword displayed above his vodka bottles. 
The barflies all agreed, "he'd use it if he had to." I highly doubt it but I'll nod and smile and lift my glass and say "Thar she blows, ladies" or some other such English sea shanty slogan of yesteryear. 
When the music stops at midnight and the lost and found raffle starts, Boit rings the ding dong and turns on the green light. 
"first up, we have a black sweatshirt that says 'Who Ate My Burgers?'"
1 cent.
- 1 cent
- $20
SOLD for negative twenty dollars to the gentleman in the black sweatshirt  that asks, "Who Ate my Nuggets?"

The bar is a place where a man can find a sweatshirt much like the one he's wearing.

Chucky  P.Bunson Berry