Posts Tagged With: Tupperware

Bad Advice Friday, 3-24-17

Today is once more Bad-Advice Friday. I shall be dispensing bad advice to all comers. The advice will stupendously bad.

GC asks: Is there a reason for putting a banana in meat loaf?

Dear GC: Yes, it’s absolutely essential training if you want to murder someone and get away with it. Sure you could shoot someone dead, but then you’d have to dispose of the murder weapon and those pesky policemen are sure to find it–yes, diligence can be annoying in others–and match up the bullets in the victim to your gun and before you can say, “Bob’s your uncle,” you’d be in jail. No, it’s better to suffocate your victim by shoving a banana down his throat. Then pull out the banana and cook it in your meatloaf. Not only will you have gotten away with murder, but you’ll have a tasty meal as well. And isn’t good eating a worthy goal in itself?

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CC asks: What should I have made for dinner tonight?

Dear CC: It depends. If you like the guests, let the professionals do the cooking. I suggest having Lasserre in Paris cater the event. Certainly, hiring the top chefs in France at a moment’s notice and hiring a supersonic private jet fly them to your kitchen will probably bankrupt you. However, this will be a dinner that you and your guests will savor for the rest of your lives.

However, if you despise your diners, I suggest almond chicken with a bechamel/X-LaxTM sauce and a habañero/mango smooth. Bon appétit.

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KJS-O asks: How best to pimp-my book?

Dear KJS-O: Book promoting techniques come and go. I recommend one that has stood the test of time, robbing a bank and taking hostages. I guarantee national coverage, especially if you rob a bank in a big city. Be sure to look your best for the cameras. All America will be watching you and judging you by your appearance. By all means, demand an interview with a TV reporter. This will give you the opportunity to read from your book. And remember to stay poised; you won’t be giving another interview for ten-to-twenty years.

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JAS asks: Do you know the way to San Jose?

Dear JAS: No, but neither do ants know the way to anything. However, they always find your food in minutes, even if you’ve just turned your back on it for one minute to get a TupperwareTM container. That minute turns into ten as you yourself turn into a cussing banshee trying to get a top that matches the container bottom. Anyway, the ants will find your food you left on the counter top in those ten minutes, guaranteed. How do they do it? They have no GPS. They just march forward in ever widening circles until they find your food. Which they do every time, so there must be something to it. So, I suggest driving in ever widening circles until you find yourself in San Jose. Be sure to visit the Winchester House while you’re there. It’s great.

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MB asks: What color should I paint my toe nails?

Dear MB: Your toe nails should match your belt, particularly so if you find yourself interviewing for a job while wearing flip-flops.

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RAS asks: Should I cut off my big toe for no reason?

Dear RAS: Absolutely not! Cutting off your toe should be for a reason. For example, you’re at your friends’ party. They ask you to take off your shoes. You are a polite guest, so you do so. Then you stub your big toe. My gosh the pain. You go off on a ten-minute swearing tear until the pain subsides. Your friends are pointing to the door. You are no longer welcome at their house. Wouldn’t it be so much better to cut off your big toes in advance than commit this grievous faux pas over and over again. You have only two big toes to lop off, but you can lose dozens of friends if you don’t.

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SL asks: What color should I make the sky on April 1st?

Dear SL: I’ve always been partial to green. Hire a small plane. (Don’t forget to hire a pilot as well!) Pour green paint out the plane. Then count on your friend, the one with a huge fan to keep the green paint suspended in air.

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Doctor Paul De Lancey

(Please click on my name and submit Bad Advice questions to my Facebook page and simply make a comment to this post. I look
forward to hearing from you.)

 

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with 180 wonderful recipes is available on amazon.com. My newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, is also available on amazon.com

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Beneficial Murders, first part of my forthcoming novel

29 DAYS LEFT

THIS CHAPTER BROUGHT TO YOU BY FANTASY BANKINGTM

“INVESTING YOUR FANTASY MILLIONS WISELY”

“Rudolph, instead of sending coal to the naughty people for Christmas, I’ll be launching ICBMs. They’ll be heading south in ten minutes.” I slapped my knee. “Haw! Everything is south from here.”
Rudolph’s red nose glowed bright. “Sir, we have nuclear missiles? Nuclear missiles? How did we acquire nuclear missiles?”
“My furry friend, what do you think my elves build in their workshop every January and February? They do a good job. Every one of my missiles can strike anywhere in the world.” My hands traced a blossoming mushroom cloud.
Rudolph shook his antlers. “No sir, don’t do it. I take great pride in guiding your sleigh every year. You know how you love giving gifts to all the nice kids. Maybe you are just having bi-polar issues.”
“No,” I said, “I’ve been taking my meds.”
“Santa, Sir, things are not so bad,” said Rudolph, “you shouldn’t be so cranky.”
“So cranky. So cranky,” I said. “I have great reason to be cranky. The Elves are on strike, demanding I stop outsourcing jobs to India. I might have to move to the South Pole because of global warming. Mrs. Claus has gone to Peru to get in touch with her inner self and Prancer has just come out of the closet.”
Rudolph nuzzled me. “Still, that’s no reason to nuke the world.”
I sighed. “No, my friend, that’s not the real reason. I used to put “caught being good” marks by most people’s names whenever I spied on them. Now people for whatever reason–-drinking skim milk maybe–-design perpetually jamming printers and fire surface-to-air missiles at anything that flies by. Why, last Christmas, I couldn’t even fly my sleigh through the night skies without a little F-16 escort from my friends at NORAD.”
“Oh,” said Rudolph, “I think you’re exaggerating. I’ll bet there a lot more nice people than naughty.”
“Oh yeah,” I said. I turned on my Little JohnnyTM computer and brought up my Santa’s Naughty or NiceTM software. I pointed toward the monitor. “Look, look. Over four billion people are naughty and fewer than two billion are nice.”
Rudolph did peruse the screen. Indeed, many more naughty acts were being caught than good ones by my extensive global network of satellites.
As Rudolph said nothing, I continued. “If people want any more presents from me, heck, if they want merely not to be nuked, I’m going to need to find at least as many nice folks as naughty by Christmas Eve. But I doubt if I can. That’s why I’ve set the launch times.”
“Won’t you miss the milk and cookies that the good little boys and girls will give?” asked Rudolph. “Can you really break their little hearts? Substituting nuclear winter for seasonal snow?”
I sighed. “If only two billion more people were nicer. You know, gave to charities, opened doors for little old ladies, read a story to a toddler, or brushed their teeth, I’d cancel the launches.”
Rudolph thought for a minute. “It’s a bit much to expect that many people to change so quickly. How about a test case? How about if just one chosen person changes the world for the better by Christmas Eve, would you stop the launching of the nuclear missiles?”
“For the sake of that one person, I would,” I said.
“Whom will you choose?”
“Sam Mollusk,” I said. “He’s kin.”
Rudolph raised the deer equivalent of an eyebrow. “Sir, does Sam have to be good to make the whole world better? Couldn’t he just buy more Li’l PathfinderTM cookies? Or maybe eliminate a bit of evil here and there?”
I slapped my knee. “Rudolph, you’re a genius. Killing naughty people would make the world a nicer place. Yes my friend, if Sam Mollusk kills enough naughty people I promise you there will be a happy, missile-free Christmas after all.”
Rudolph coughed. “I wasn’t proposing such a solution.”
“Ho! Ho! Ho! You’re being too modest, my red-nosed friend. If only people would help out their friends and neighbors with a little beneficial murder here and there.”
Rudolph shook his furry head. “Sir, how do you know Sam Mollusk will commit these beneficial murders?”
I beamed with pride. “He’s a good kid.”
“But sir, lots of good kids never commit murders of any sort. How are you going to get him started?”
“Rudolph, he comes from the same bloodline as I do. The Claus line has always wanted to bring joy to the world, sometimes by giving, like me up to now, and sometimes by killing, like my kin Wyatt Earp.
“Besides, my furry friend, Sam Mollusk drives a tiny Prius. Trust me, he’s ready to kill.”
I, Santa, pushed the button to watch coverage from my satellites orbiting over Poway, California. I said to my monitor, “Ah, Mr. Mollusk, I will be following your every move. You have thirty days to commit thirty beneficial murders. Will you do it?”
Rudolph smiled at me. “If I get a nice cup of OvaltineTM will you make it twenty-nine days to accomplish twenty-nine beneficial murders? That will give him to Christmas Eve.”
I, Santa, laughed. “All right my friend, I’m such a softie. Twenty nine in twenty nine it is.”

29 FIENDISH DAYS LEFT

THOSE BASTARD AL QAEDAS

“Sabaaaaah el kheir, Al Qaeda! (Goooood morning, Al Qaeda!) Hi, I’m your radio host, Yusef Al Din, the Master of Mayhem, the Duke of Destruction, bringing your favorite songs of hate from the ‘50s and ‘60s till prayer time. But first the news.

“The three blind judges of Abiraz have chosen Sarani Said of Egypt to be this year’s Miss Burka. In the likely event of her martyrdom, Halmai’i Barrani of Libya will take over.
“Fiendish sources in Afghanistan tell of budgetary concerns in Al Qaeda cells worldwide. Says Hoshni Al Fiendi, CEO of Al Qaeda, ‘We are running out of funds. What with the worldwide downturn and lingering image problems, it’s been a bad year for donations. Even our TV marathons and falafel bakes aren’t raising much. Our cash flow problems are so bad that we face a hostile takeover by TupperwareTM on December 24.’
“We righteous warriors cannot let this happen. Unless we raise enough Dinars by that time we shall unleash the Great Unleashing where every terrorist will be sent on a suicide bombing mission to a single, spectacular target.
“We have been resisting the Great Unleashing because frankly, it is suicidal. Or the Great Satan might wipe out all humanity with retaliatory nuclear strikes. And if we all die, what will happen to Al Qaeda? Gone the way of five-cent falafel. So, give all you can, right away.
“And now a word from our sponsor, Abd al-Tijana, CFO of Al Qaeda.”
“Unemployed? Tired of a dead-end job? Well, come on over to Al Qaeda Central. Our recent spate of suicide bombings means openings at the ground level. Must have references.
“Do you hunger for small-scale explosions at suburban food courts? Or is nuclear war with the Great Satan more your style? Well, make your way to Poway Al Qaeda, a place where bloodshed is always on the menu.”
“Take care. Al youm herr barrah. (It’s hot outside.)”
3novels

My cookbook and novels are available in paperback or Kindle on amazon.com

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

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