As you enter the “campground” where you normally view Dragon Laffs, you see that some changes have been made. The raised hill where Impish usually expounds on his weeks views and ideas has been modified. It still resembles the original hill, but in the way that a scene from a play resembles a real city street.
You can see a lot of high tech equipment, computers, monitors, a giant screen, cameras and other not so obvious things. The one thing you don’t see, is Impish.
As you settle in, order your breakfast, enjoy your first sip of your Brown Gold Coffee, you admire the upgraded Patron’s Area and watch the non-patrons filling their Styrofoam cups with some generic coffee, and picking through the packaged, no name “pastries”. As you think about it, you chuckle to yourself thinking, that’s awfully generous calling those things pastries.
It’s now a few minutes past the usual starting time, almost everyone is seated and waiting expectantly. You hear a faint whining of an electric motor and you see a portion of the hill slide off to the side revealing a secret passage.
After another few seconds, you see Impish peek his head over the edge of the trap door. He looks all around, seems satisfied with what he sees, leans back down into the hole and says, “Okay fellas. The coast is clear, send it all the way up and get the other elevator working. Send up the surprise!
As Impish rises higher in the air, you can see another hole open in the hill and a bigger elevator begins to rise. As Impish’s elevator stops, leaving him seemingly standing on top of the hill, you see a huge table and chairs rising up and settle to a stop with the floor slightly lower than level.
Impish waddles over to the hole where the table and chairs have risen and yells down, “Hey! It needs to come up a little bit more.”
He appears to listen to a response that you are unable to hear.
“Whadda ya mean, it’s stuck! Get it unstuck.”
The elevator begins to go down, it only travels a foot or so and then stops with a loud screech. It rises a few inches and stops again with an even louder screech. It continues to move up and down in shorter and shorter arcs with the screeching getting louder and louder when suddenly smoke begins to rise up from the hole.
“Oh my god, oh my god, what are you doing?!”
“Fire!? There’s a fire?!”
Impish turns and seems as though he sees you for the first time. “Um…yeah…why don’t you guys and go ahead and get started with…”
A huge thump from underground is immediately followed by a sudden increase in the smoke, which is now pouring out of the hole in the hill. Impish looks terrified, like he’s been caught with his hand in the dragon’s bane jar by him mom or, even worse, Lethal Leprechaun, when you suddenly realize that that might be exactly what happened. He was obviously being furtive when he first appeared and now …
“… um get started without me. You folks in the patron area might back up a bit first. I’ll check back in on you later.”
We interrupt this program to bring you some breaking news. We just received this revealing picture from one of our overseas correspondents.
Thanks to Jean for this one. As she says, this would be absolutely hilarious, if weren’t so true:
As you’re going through the issue, laughing, agreeing or arguing, Impish Dragon begins to talk, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, but I’m gonna need someone to watch out for Lethal. Do I have any volunteers?
A voice from off the side says, “And why would you be needing to watch out for the likes o’ me?”
I’m sure everyone recognizes our Disney Liaison.
I had an interesting experience last night:
See, this cop pulled me over and said, “Papers…”
I said, “Scissors, I Win!” and drove off.
This could really qualify as an oldie, but goodie
Some people call me crazy. I prefer happy with a twist.
Okay, this is way cool! You guys know the Slo-Mo guys? They do super slow motion video of all kinds of things. This video is about a dude getting tazered….in slow motion!!!
Hillary Clinton hosted a campaign fundraiser Wednesday at the famous Staten Island mansion once owned by New York organized crime boss Paul Castellano. It’s a Mafia shrine. For most people the house is a symbol of greed, ambition and underhanded money laundering, but for Hillary, it’s Tara. -Argus Hamilton
This is just too damn funny not to share. From the New Yorker Magazine…
Why the Long Face?
Last week, Mrs. Clinton’s strategists acknowledged missteps . . . and promised that this fall the public would see the sides of Mrs. Clinton that are often obscured by the noise and distractions of modern campaigning. They want to show her humor.
Clinton campaign H.Q., Brooklyn.
Hillary Clinton sits with several staffers.
STAFFER 1: Here’s something. Lots of jokes start with the line “A guy walks into a barn.”
CLINTON: I like that. That’s funny.
STAFFER 2: Bar. I think it’s “A guy walks into a bar.”
CLINTON: Bar? Why is that funny? Are bars funny?
STAFFER 3: I thought it was barn, too.
STAFFER 4: What if a guy walks into a barn and sees a bar?
CLINTON: That makes no sense.
STAFFER 2: Is that funny, though? Walking into a barn?
CLINTON: Barns are hilarious. It depends on the barn, of course, as well as the time of year. Barns can also be sad. I’ve walked into barns in the heartland of this great country, where jobs have vanished and the American dream is dead.
STAFFER 1 (Googling): It’s “bar.” Oops.
CLINTON: Let’s go with “bar.”
STAFFER 3: Doesn’t something usually come after that first line, though? Like, the . . . what’s it called . . . the punch?
STAFFER 1 (Googling): Punch line.
CLINTON: O.K. Well, let’s go with “A guy walks into a bar. Punch line.” That’s funny.
STAFFER 3: No, no. I think we need a punch line. We don’t say “punch line.”
CLINTON: I’m lost.
STAFFER 1: Same here.
CLINTON: A man is walking down the street and bumps into a bar . . . a metal bar . . . hits his head . . . he’s O.K. And I’ll tell you why he’s O.K. He’s O.K. because we passed the most significant health-care reform in our nation’s history. Should it have been single-payer? I think so. But thirty million Americans who never before had health insurance now have coverage for issues like a head contusion from walking into a bar.
STAFFER 3: I don’t think it’s a guy walking into a metal bar.
STAFFER 3: I think it’s a man walking into a bar that serves alcohol.
CLINTON: I don’t get it.
STAFFER 2: Is there a metal bar in this alcohol bar?
STAFFER 3: I don’t think there’s a metal bar anywhere in the story. It’s just a bar.
CLINTON: So I just say, “A man walks into an alcohol-serving bar”?
STAFFER 1: I worry that it’s going to seem like she’s urging people to drink.
STAFFER 2: Agreed. I think we had something really strong with the barn.
STAFFER 3: Maybe add a punch line?
CLINTON: Right. Let’s circle back to that. What is it, exactly?
STAFFER 3: I think it could be any number of things. Like wordplay.
STAFFER 1: I know: “A guy walks into an alcohol bar and has a club soda.”
STAFFER 3: I think it’s more, like, “A horse walks into a bar, and the bartender says, ‘Why the long face?’ ”
STAFFER 1: Sorry, I’m really confused.
STAFFER 2: Why is the bartender speaking to the horse?
CLINTON: People. There are 9.2 million horses in America, according to the Horse Council’s latest study on the U.S. horse industry. More than seventy per cent of horse owners live in communities of fewer than fifty thousand people. Let’s help horse owners protect what may be the quintessential American animal. And let’s not let bartenders—or anyone—demean the shape of their faces.
CLINTON: So far, we have a guy walking into a bar. It’s funny. But it could be funnier. C’mon, guys. Be funny.
STAFFER 1: Does it have to be a guy walking into a bar? Could it be a woman?
STAFFER 2: A transgender woman?
STAFFER 1: We need to speak to that demographic.
STAFFER 3: Maybe it’s a woman. She sees her friends, and they say, “Hey, Steve!” And she says, “It’s Stephanie now.”
STAFFER 1: That’s beautiful.
STAFFER 4: But, is it funny?
CLINTON: There’s nothing funny about discrimination. I will fight for the rights of L.G.B.T.Q. people everywhere.
STAFFER 1: What if the guy—
STAFFER 2: I’m sorry, but I really think we should be careful with pronouns.
STAFFER 1: My bad. What if the individual walking into the bar—and this gets back to the idea of a punch line which we spoke about earlier—what if the individual sees Roseanne Barr?
STAFFER 2: Funny. Because of the bar thing. It’s almost a homonym, I think.
STAFFER 1: What if he or she sees Barbara Bush, whom people call Bar?
CLINTON: Why is Barbara Bush sitting alone in an alcohol bar?
STAFFER 2: Are we sending the wrong signal about a revered former First Lady?
STAFFER 1: What if she’s sitting with Roseanne, and they’re drinking coffee?
STAFFER 2: And praying.
STAFFER 3: Is praying funny, though?
STAFFER 2: There was that funny Jim Carrey movie “Bruce Almighty.”
CLINTON: I like it. Get Jim Carrey.
STAFFER 1: Maybe it’s an A.A. meeting, and Roseanne fell off the wagon. Maybe Barbara Bush is leading a prayer.
CLINTON: With Jim Carrey.
STAFFER 1: Yes. And maybe the bar is filled with recovering alcoholics. Immigrants. Mexicans. Everyone is Mexican, except Barbara Bush and Roseanne Barr and Jim Carrey.
CLINTON: And I walk in and pour them coffee and say, “Let’s stop building walls. Let’s start building compassion.”
STAFFER 3: Funny stuff. ♦
Part of our legal staff on her way to a special hearing. You know how in England and other places the barristers (lawyers) have to wear those funny white powdered wigs to court? Well, this is pretty much the same kind of an idea, but in a much different realm.
But she very well endowed….
With Legal abilities!!!! What were you thinking?!
After my prostate exam, the doctor left. The the nurse cam in. As she shut the door, she whispered the three words no man wants to hear in that situation: “Who was that?”
Words to live by…and we do!!!
People often complain about the police, but you rarely hear about the positive things they do, such as this incident involving a biker and a frozen carburetor.
Last January on a bitterly cold winter’s day, a North Dakota State Trooper on patrol came upon a motorcyclist who was stalled by the roadside. The biker was swathed in heavy protective clothing and wearing a full-face helmet to protect the face from the cold weather.
“What’s the matter? asked the Trooper
“Carburetor’s frozen,” was the terse reply.
“Pee on it. That’ll thaw it out.”
“I can’t,” said the biker.
“OK, watch me closely and I’ll show you.”
The Trooper unzipped and promptly warmed the carburetor as promised.
Moments later the bike started and the rider drove off, waving.
A few days later, the local State Troopers’ office received a note of thanks from the father of the motorcyclist.
It began: “On behalf of my daughter Jill…”
Can you imagine if Facebook just decided to shut down and you see all these confused teenagers coming out of their houses, squinting at the sun?
Sounds like we should all be outside under the stars on Sunday…
Sunday’s rare supermoon eclipse: What you need to know