Thanksgiving IX: Charlie Brown's Revenge

Much to my shock, I came in late for the "Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" special, the other night. I've always been a big fan of the Charlie Brown specials. I think it's because I relate to him, so well.

A) Many people tolerate me. But, I have few friends.

B) Bad things happen to me for seemingly no good reason.

C) That bitch next door NEVER lets me kick the football.

I was annoyed, though, when I tuned in and found that I had missed my traditional "Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" special, and had to deal with what they call the "second half."

Most of the Charlie Brown specials are considered "classics," now. So, in order to cash in on that, the studio has taken to adding on the "second half." It's an updated portion, not nearly as good, that they slapped together in order to make more money off of it. They do the same thing with the Christmas and Valentine's Day specials.

SACRILEGE

So the other night, having missed the REAL special, I was forced to endure the "Charlie Brown" version of the Pilgrams coming over on the Mayflower.

Sure, there was death, disease, and famine. But, a few zesty quips from Lucy, and all was well.

In this special "the gang," if you will, and several adults came to the new world. That's another thing. These were adults who actually SPOKE!! Adults DON'T speak in the Peanuts cartoons. More Heresey!!! The adults are not only NOT supposed to be seen, but when they talk it is in a non-descript tone. Sort of how my wife sounds when she talks to me.

Anyway, in this new special, they all come to America, get sick, survive, and meet the indians. The indians, of course, are THRILLED to meet the creepy new people.

(I'm paraphrasing here)

Peanuts Guy: Wow, isn't the new world great!?!! And, look!! Here come some indians.

Indian Guy: Ugh! We-um welcome you-um to our land-um. Ugh.

Peanuts Guy: Well, that's just super special of you. Do you know anywhere that we could pick up some food, or something, for dinner?

Indian Guy: Ugh. We have-um no stores. But, we will help-um you to learn-um to grow heap big crops, to feed-um your people. Ugh.

Peanuts Guy: Gosh, you guys sure are nice. I think we should have some kind of party, where we can give thanks, and celebrate all this good will.

Indian Guy: Ugh.

Please note that this "special" made no mention of the pending slaughter that was to take place in the coming years. It also made being a pilgram, in the dead of winter, seem SLIGHTLY more problematic than a two-week vacation in Maui.

It was bland.

It was boring.

It was NOT what I wanted to see.

If you want to update Peanuts for a modern, "Grand Theft Auto" audience, and maintain a certain level of reality, I think it should have gone more like this.

Charlie Brown: Who the hell is that?

Linus: I think that's one of them indians.

Indian Guy: Hey, how you guys doin'? Just wanted to swing by, say hello, and welcome you all to the area.

Charlie Brown: You just came by to say "hi," huh?

Indian Guy: Yeah, you know....Oh....My wife put together this little basket for you guys. It's got some maze, and some hemp, and a little tobacco for the old peace pipe, if you know what I'm saying.

Charlie Brown (plunging a jagged rock into the indian's chest): DIE, YOU GODLESS, SAVAGE BASTARD!!!!!!!!

Linus: I don't think that's a very good idea, Charlie Brown.

Charlie Brown (ripping the indians heart out of his chest): TODAY'S A GOOD DAY TO DIE, SAVAGE!!!!!!

Linus: Good grief.

Lucy: Charlie Brown, you're a block head.

Charlie Brown (eating the now dead indians heart): I'M EATING HIS SOUL!!!!! I'M EATING HIS SAVAGE SOUL!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH HA HA HA!!!!!!

Peppermint Patty: Hey Marcy, while they're slaughtering the indians, and eating their souls, why don't you and me go out in the woods and explore some of these "not-so-veiled" feelings we've been having?

Marcy: Yes, sir.

Now, I'm not saying that that is the way that it SHOULD be. I'm just trying to think of a way to bring it into the 21st century. I want my children to have the same fondness and love, for the Peanuts specials, that I had growing up.

Is that so wrong?

Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to get back to work on my updated version of "The Grinch," where the Grinch rips off Cindy Lou Who's head, and drinks the still warm blood from her body.

I'm JUST trying to deal with reality, here, folks.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Casey

McDonald's: God's Food

As a parent, I can assure you that one of the biggest problems we face is getting our kids to eat properly. In the case of my son, at least, eating properly means putting the food in your mouth, and NOT your ear. Nothing good can come of that. Though, it is less fattening.

And, speaking of fattening foods, many of us who had children just so that we would have a little friend who wouldn't judge us, and were shocked to find out that we actually had to take care of them, will find solace in this news: McDonald's is now teaching moms about healthy foods.
Isn't that great?

I can hear fat parents, with their morbidly obese little snowflakes, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Either that, or gasping for air. It's hard to tell with fat people.

Unfortunatley there is a catch.

McDonald's is not REALLY teaching moms about healthy foods. What they are doing is bringing a bunch of moms in, and trying to convince them that McDonald's food is actually VERY healthy.

You betcha!!

Any day, now, Whole Foods is gonna team up with Mickey D's, and start selling Chicken McNuggets in their frozen foods section.......Uh....Don't hold your breath on that one.

Debra DeMuth, McDonald's global nutrition director, has referred to french fries as.....get ready....."probably one of the most victimized foods."

Yep. Of course. Shame on us!! All of us!!! Victimizing the poor, helpless, innocent french fries......dripping in preservatives, and slathered in salt. How could we be such fools? Besides, where else are you gonna get your daily dose of sodium acid pyrophosphate?

Plus, we are told, french fries are also an excellent source of potassium. Of course, you could just eat a banana. But, now I'm just nit picking.

We are also told, and expected to get very excited by the fact that, Egg McMuffin's contain REAL EGGS!!!! Eggs are good, right? Everyone likes eggs. That's healthy, is what that is. Plus, when you slather said eggs with a healthy dose of high fructose corn syrup, it's eating the way God intended it to be.

I've been eating at McDonald's all my life. At this point, with all this helpful information, I'm surprised I've ever even gotten a cold, much less cholesterol levels that would kill the average elephant.

You're probably saying to yourself, "Casey, can the news about all this healthy food at McDonald's POSSIBLY get better?"

Good question.

The answer is, yes. It can, AND DOES.

You see, Miss DeMuth, the health expert from McDonald's, had one more little bombshell to drop on the mother's that came to hear her speech.

It seems that ALL the internet stories are false (which is sad because, if you can't believe what you read on the internet, what CAN you believe.) The fact of the matter is that Chicken McNuggets actually contain......Ready?...........CHICKEN!!!!!!

Now, of course, they also contain sodium phosphates, thiamin mononitrate, sodium acid pyrophosphate, sodium aluminum phosphate, monocalcium phosphate, and sweet, sweet dimethylpolysiloxane.

I know. I'm drooling a little bit myself.

So, parents, take heart. If you want to feed your kids a good, natural, healthy meal with things like potassium, eggs, and real chicken, all you have to do is take them to McDonald's.

They'll weigh 600 pounds, but at least they'll be eating healthy. And isn't that the important thing?

I like to think so.

Casey

I'm Gonna Put My Trash Can On A Milk Carton

Sometime, possibly in another life, I offended garbage men. Actually, I don't even thing that's the proper term, anymore. Perhaps, "Sanitation Maintenance Engineers" would be more fitting. I dunno.

Anyway, today was trash day in my little slice of suburban hell. So, last night I went outside, placed the lids tightly on my cans (hehe), and rolled them out to the curb. This morning, when I went outside, I found one of my cans (lol) across the street in the neighbor's yard. The lid was in my driveway. The other one of my cans (HA HA!!) was across my yard, with the lid in my next door neighbor's driveway.

This is not, at all, uncommon.

A few weeks ago I forgot to take the kitchen trash out (It's one of my chores.) So, when I heard the trash truck, I ran outside and tried to hand them my trash bag.

Me: Can I give you one more?

Sanitation Maintenance Engineer: No.

Me: Okay, well....Wait....No?

Sanitation Maintenance Engineer: It's gotta be in your can.

Me: Hehe

Sanitation Maintenance Engineer: What?

Me: Nothing...Uh....So, if I put it in my can (snicker), you'll take it?

Sanitation Maintenance Engineer: Possibly.

Me: Okay....Uhhhhh....Where is it?

Sanitation Maintenance Engineer: Your can?

Me: HAHA!!!

Sanitation Maintenance Engineer: What?

Me: Nothing...So, where is it?

Sanitation Maintenance Engineer: It's two blocks over, that way.

Me: Oh...Uh...Good shot.

Sanitation Maintenance Engineer: The wind was with us.

Me: Of course.

So, for whatever reason, they have made a nice little sport of spraying my cans (sorry) all over the place. I don't know why. I don't know what I did. Whatever it was, I didn't mean to. I'm just trying to throw my garbage away. I swear to God.

This also, by the way, extends to the recycle people. I had put some boxes out, two weeks ago, and when I woke up they were gone. I just assumed that they recycle people had taken them away, and made shirts, or something, out of them that former hippies will spend way too much money to buy in "the villiage," or something like that. But, when I went to rake leaves this past weekend, I found my boxes had been thrown on the side of my house. My neighbor suggested that it might have been because I didn't break them down.

Huh?

They were little, tiny, baby boxes. I gotta break those down, TOO!?!!! How come? Correct me if I'm wrong, but when they take them, they immediately place them inside of a giant compactor. Broken down, or not, I think the giant compactor is going to be able to handle the job. If it can't, they need to get their money back. And, even if they DO need to be broken down (and I'm conceeding nothing here), is it okay to hide them from me on the side of my house?

I think not.

Besides, take it from someone who has moved more times than I care to mention, breaking down boxes is a major pain. Have you ever gotten a paper cut from a cardboard box? Bloody and painful. Not a pretty sight. They could make horror movies out of that kind of stuff.

But, fine. I can play by the rules. I can break down the boxes. I don't like it, but I'll do it.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go get my cans (LOL). There was a good wind, and I think they might be in Newark.

Casey

An Orange By Any Other Name.....

Everybody should vote.

There.

I said it.

Now, when I tell you that Barack Obama is going to win (though I am not voting for him,) and that things are going to stay pretty much the same, no matter what, you cannot accuse me of encouraging people not to vote. In fact, vote twice. Find some dead people who are still on the rolls, and vote on their behalf, too. That is, after all, how JFK got to be president. So, it's the American way, actually.

Anyway, there are FAR more important decisions to be made than who will be President. Things that will actually impact your life.....Okay....Maybe not YOUR life. But, mine. Since I am a child of the '80's, I'm the only one that I REALLY care about, anyway.

For instance, what color I'm going to be forced, against my will, to paint my kitchen.

You should know that my wife, who would do very well in the position of "Torture Coordinator" at Gitmo, has forced me to watch several hours of home design programming on stations like HGTV, and others. Not that I'm complaining. I think Sabrina Soto is hot. Plus, I would crawl naked, through the desert, over shards of broken glass, just to have Tanya Memme spit on me.

But, I digress.

One of the many things that I have learned by watching home and garden themed TV, is that you ALWAYS stay neutral. My wife shares this philosophy every time I want to paint a room a flashy color.

Me: Why don't we paint the spare bedroom red?

My Wife: Don't you pay any attention to the shows that I LET you watch?

Me: Well, I try and look down Tanya Memme's top.......

My Wife: If we paint the room red, then no one will want to buy our house when you inevitably lose THIS job. We'll be stuck with a house that would be otherwise perfect, but all the people who look at it will refer to it as "that house with the red room." They'll think we're trying to cover something up, like blood, and will assume that we murdered people here, and won't want to come within a hundred feet of our house. So, we'll be stuck here until we run out of money, which we will since you are not capable of getting a "real" job that would pay you a decent salary. That means that we'll be forclosed upon, and will have to move into a cheap room, in a motel, until MY MOTHER sends us the money to move to Missouri, and live in her basement. In the meantime, the bank will have someone come in and try and sell our former home, but they'll realize that they won't be able to, because there is an ugly, red, "murder room" upstairs. So, they'll have to tear the whole house down, and build a new one. This will cause problems for our neighbors, whose foundations will crack due to all the construction equipment that will be rumbling all over the place, during the new construction. When they go to sell THEIR homes an inspector will come in, see the cracks, and tell the buyers that they should back out due to the "structural damage." This will cause ALL of our neighbors to lose their homes, and since they don't have mother's, with basements, in Missouri they will end up living in boxes on the side of the rood. Once winter comes they, and their children, will all die. All because you wanted to paint the spare bedroom red.

Me: Oh....How about blue?

My Wife: Shut up.

I think they call that "The Butterfly Effect."

Anyway, it came as a HUGE shock to me, this past weekend, when my wife started peelign the ugly wallpaper off the kitchen walls. At this time I should point out that I HATE painting. I hate it with every fiber of my being. Now, while I hated the wallpaper (little blue and pink flowers), it was up. It was there. The walls were covered. Not the best, but I could live with it. Plus, if I hate anythmore MORE than painting, it would probably be peeling off wallpaper.

So, it came as a complete shock to me, Sunday, when I was minding my own business, watching a football game, when I heard tearing noises suddenly coming from my kitchen. When I got up to see what it was, I almost went postal.

"FOOL!!!!" I shouted. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE!?!! THIS IS WALLPAPER!!! ONCE IT IS PEELED, YOU CANNOT DE-PEEL IT!!! YOU HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE THING!!!"

Needless to say, this was an evil, and malicious act on the part of my wife. It seems that her intention ALL ALONG was to take down ALL the wallpaper. After 11 years of marriage, I really just don't recognize this woman, anymore.

Here's the worst part......Once you take down ALL the wallpaper, something needs to be done to the walls. Since my wife is, apparently, the daughter of Satan I assumed that she would want to hang MORE wallpaper. But, no. She has decided to paint.

Me: Uhhhh....What color do I have to paint it.

My Wife: Terracotta.

Me: Terra-whatta?

My Wife: Terracotta. It's like rust.

Me: Orange?

My Wife: (Sighing angrily) No. Not ORANGE.....Terracotta.

Me: You said it was like rust.

My Wife: Yes.

Me: Which is orange.

My Wife: Yes.

Me: But, this is NOT orange.

My Wife: No.

Me: It's Terracotta.

My Wife: Yes.

Me: My head hurts.

My Wife: We have to paint it that color, so that it will match the new granite countertops.

Me: Oh. Well, if it'll match the new counterto....Wait.....What?

My Wife: We're getting new countertops.

Me: I thought we were getting a Mac?

My Wife: I changed our mind.

Me: You changed OUR mind?

My Wife: Yes.

Me: That's how it works?

My Wife: Yes.

Me: Okay.....Uh....Isn't painting the walls orange going to kill all our neighbors, or something?

My Wife: Considering the circumstances, I found that to be an acceptable loss.

Me: So that the walls will match the countertops?

My Wife: Yes.

Me: Man, that's cold.

My Wife: Deal with it.


So, while you're all worried about who/what to vote for, and how it's going to affect the American way of life, I'm going to be putting on my painting clothes, at some point, and slathering paint on my walls, which will have a more direct impact on the housing impact, homelessness, and the local economy than ANYTHING that any of the boneheads running for office will.

The paint will be terracotta. Not, I repeat NOT orange. If you know what's good for you, you won't call it orange. She was willing to watch our own neighbors die. What makes you think she won't kill you?

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go and google some pictures of Tanya Memme. Just 'cuz.

Casey