Thursday, October 9, 2014

Men of Silver

This story is for the uber SUPER Geeks. You know who you are......

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Men of Silver 

“Jeez Louise, think you could turn the heat up in here?  It’s freezing.” Bruce Wayne grumbled, wrapping his old cape around his shoulders.

Clark Kent yawned. He’d heard this gripe from his former team mate before, “How many times do I have to tell you, you old bat, there isn’t a thermostat in the Fortress.  You always underdress. Put on my slippers. They’ll warm you up.”

Bruce starred at his host, the prior Man of Steel and leaned forward in his own recliner.

The awkward silence and eventual one word answered that followed said it all, “Who?”

Agitated, Clark stripped off his identity suppressing bi-focals and rubbed his less than super-eyes.

“What do you mean, ‘who’?  I didn’t say anything that required a ‘who’ for an answer. What are you now, a damned owl? ”

Confused, Bruce pointed a finger at himself.

“No Clark. I’m Batman. Remember?” he sucked his dentures, “It’s okay. I forget who I am sometimes too. Luckily, someone stitched my name in my underwear,” he said, still pointing to his chest.

Clark patted his addled friend’s hand and sighed.

“Yes, Bruce. I know you all too well. We’ve fought many battles together. Remember the epic war with Darkseid? You were magnificent in that encounter. By the way, I ran into Darkseid at the Justice League Retirement Community. He’s still a prick but with the glaucoma and osteoarthritis, his once forbidding Omega Beams are only good for warming his cocoa.  Plus, it’s hard to get around in a nano-second when you’re riding a hover-round.”

Bruce laughed. Clark missed listening to his old comrade’s laugh. He enjoyed reminiscing about the good old days where the good guys always vanquished the bad guys.

Bruce eagerly chimed in.

“Oh and you know who else is still hot?” he solicited with a bony elbow to Clark’s weakening arm- apparently not hearing any of the conversation.

Lois Lane. I would have had a shot with her if it wasn’t for Superman,” he leaned in and whispered, “I did touch her boob once.”  

Clark balled up his fist, but resisted to follow through with a strike. Instead, he snatched up Bruce by the arm in a less-than-powerful grip.

“I think it’s time for you to go home Batboy.”

Bruce slowly rose from his chair.

“Wow time sure flies. Tell Alfred to bring the Batmobile around.”

“Alfred’s dead, Bruce. He’s been dead for over 20 years,” Clark snipped, no longer in the mood to circle the planet known as memory lane.

“I think he’s stealing my silverware,” Bruce hissed, shaking a gloved finger in Clark’s face, “I know he’s been hiding my things. Yesterday, I found my codpiece in the breadbox. I should fire him.”

Ushering Bruce out the fortress door Clark rolled his eyes which accidently set fire to couch. After a wicked coughing spell brought on by emphysema, the Man of Steel finally managed to blow out the flames with his icy breath.

“Damn cataracts,” Clark griped.

Knowing his old friend would need assistance traveling home he enlisted a fellow superhero to be his traveling companion. Clark pulled Bruce close and practically screamed in his ear.

“Bruce, Alan is going to take you home. You remember Alan Scott? A.K.A Green Lantern?”

Alan offered an outstretched hand, “Good to see you Bruce. It’s been too long.”

“Oh Alan, Alan Scott. Rumor has it you’re now one of those queers, right?”

Clark hung his head. But Bruce persisted.

“I had to have this discussion with Robin so I’m going to have it with you too. I just need to get one thing straight…ME. Got it?”

Alan bit his lip. The likes of the Joker and Penguin had been his arch nemesis in the past but now the villains resided within him disguised as years of concussions and the ravages of dementia. He was then and now the Dark Knight. He forced an awkward smile.

“Good, now take me home. I’m freezing my bat balls off. Clark, why don’t you turn on the heat? Your Fortress is as cold as the White Witches tit,” he snickered. 

Alan shot Superman a befuddled look. Clark waved and shuffled back inside. Patting Green Lantern’s shoulder, Bruce grinned and shouted, “Up, up and away!”

And with a single invocation to the Earth and a lick of green flame both Batman and Green Lantern were gone.

Clark dropped in his recliner and closed his eyes.

“That was my line…I think.”

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Using Big Ben Rothlisberger to Get My Cookbook Published

The Steelers win to the Superbowl (over 3 years ago) has helped me decide just how my cookbook is going to be published. Im going to accuse Big Ben of touching me inappropriately in the frozen pizza isle of Giant Eagle. Here is my direct quote to Star Magazine…

In my best Pitssburgh ackscent,

“I was in da Giahant Igle, jus mahdin mah own bizness. Ah was Bahin some Jumbo and made mah way over to da frozen pizza section and Ben Rothlisberger came over and asked if ah liked pepperoni or sawsage. He wasnt tawkin abaht on mah pizza, datswhat he calls a ladies 'special parts'. Ah tole Ben he shud be shamed ah hisself, disgracing me in the Giahant Igle like dat. Ah kin never watch the Stillers again. I am traumatized to go into another Giahant Igle for fear of Ben ogling mah pizza.  He tainted my feelins towards Jumbo too. “  

Without Accent
“I was in the Giant Eagle, just minding my own business.  I was buying some Jumbo and made my way over to the frozen pizza section and Ben Rothlisberger came over and asked if I liked pepperoni or sausage.  He wasnt talking about toppings on my pizza. Thats what he calls a ladies special parts.  I told Ben he should be ashamed ah himself, disgracing me in the Giant Eagle like that. I can never watch the Steelers again. I am traumatized to go into another Giant Eagle for fear of Ben ogling my pizza. He tainted my feelings towards Jumbo too." 

Yinz think dis will work?

My Top 15 Children’s Books by Functioning Addicts

TOP 15 Children’s Books by Functioning Addicts

1.        My Daddy’s in Jail Because he Touched Me

2.       What to do When Your Imaginary Friend Goes into Rehab

3.       So You Want to Join A Gang?

4.       The Little Penis that Couldn’t

5.       My First Prostitute

6.       When Good Beer Goes Bad

7.       Dr. Seuss Shit in My Hat

8.       The Jungle Juice Book

9.       Superfudge, Highway of Love

10.   Clifford, the Big Engorged Liver

11.   Dick in Jane’s Sphincter

12.    Earning Your Red Wings: A Dot to Dot Coloring Book

13.   “A” is for Anus

14.   Kleo the Chlamydia Ridden Koala

15.   Poop Schutes and Ladders  (Okay, it’s a game.  So what?)

I deleted this accidentally.....ooops.

This is what I look like. Taken before there was color film. Yep, I'm ancient. My house didn't have a bathroom or WALLS so I had to squat where ever I could squat. Thank you Johnny Hargnett for waiting till I pulled up my pants to take the pix.  Always the gentleman.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

To blog or not to blog....who really gives a damn?

Today, my imaginary friend John Monaco suggested that I start a blog. Now, I don't always listen to my imaginary friend because I've been burned by his "suggestions" many times before. Petco did NOT think blasting R Kelly on my ipod and spraying vanilla pudding all over the animals tanks and cages on Valentine's Day while screaming 'Critter Orgy' was funny. I will be allowed back in Petco April-ish of 2019....maybe.
That debacle aside, I've decided to start this BLOG. I'm thinking of writing about sports, politics and a little Malaysian kid named Sven. Nevermind, Sven doesn't dig sports. He had a rock that he used as a soccer ball but the family ended up eating it. Hard times for Sven.
I have named my blog, Ruschelle Dillon's- Puppets Don't Wear Pants.  Because...well....they don't.  No self respecting puppet would ever don a pair of dungarees. And if they do, they're a Commy. Did I spell that correctly?  Ehh...I don't care. You smell my meaning.
This is where you kids come in.  I need stroked. In other words, I need people to read what spews from my herpies riddled lips. Don't worry, I'm not contagious....anymore. I can't promise class but I can promise entertainment. If you are easily offended this is not the place for you. Just thought I'd put that out there because there's ALWAYS someone who is offended. Yeah probably, YOU. Go watch some Holly Hobby videos or something...but leave this deliciously devious blog alone...or I'll tell my mommy!
What to expect here?  Well, humor, videos, stories, events, reviews etc.  Whatever I want to post- cause this is my blog bitches! And when I say "bitches" I mean that in the sweetest way possible.
Any readers out there other than Batman?

Horror Tree interview with THE John Reinhart

Poet and Arsonist...check him out.