Oh BOY!

I was scavenging through my old papergoods and experimental weapons this morning in my memory box, when I came across this old advertisement for "Oh Boy!" magazine featuring me in all my mustached glory!

Ah, those were the good old days.  I remember the fellows at "Oh Boy!" magazine had caught me trying to raid their wife's undergarments, and I was able to convince them to let me star on the cover of next week's issue before I would return the panties.  Needless to say, here we are!
       I can't recall exactly what it was "Oh Boy!" magazine was supposed to be about, but I do remember being in the advertising studio and seeing a lot of scantily clad women in weasel costumes.  I suppose it was a nature magazine or something.  From what I've heard though, following this particular issue of "Oh Boy!" magazine, the fellows at "Oh Boy!" changed their name to "Play Boy" or something of the sort.  Oh well, I'll always cherish the memories.

Grimacing Tactics

I have recently discovered that there are many more ways to grimace than people generally think.  So I decided I should put up a handy step-by-step guide to "Grimacing Creatively".  Enjoy!



Grimace 1: The Soggy Face Grimace.  This Grimace is one of the more popularly used ones, as it is very simple to pull off.  Simply form an upside-down arch with your mouth, and squint your eyes ever so slightly.  This grimace is used when you are displaying your dislike for a particular film or novel.

Grimace 2: The Puppy Dog Grimace:  This Grimace is most popular amongst young lads and lassies who are displeased with the way their mothers refuse tasty treats.  This one is made up of a relatively simple formula.  Firstly, the eyes, unlike the soggy face grimace, are now wide and open with sorrow.  Secondly, the frown that is formed is much smaller and subtle, like that of a puppies.  Use this grimace if you are displeased with the way someone is treating you.

The MAD MAN GRIMACE

Grimace 3: The Mad Man Grimace: This is the grimace of all grimaces.  The Mad Man Grimace is formed when intense dislike or hostility is about in someone's mind, and they wish to make sure everyone else knows it.  Bared teeth like a feral dog, wide and leering eyes like a hawk.  Use this grimace as a LAST RESORT.

Low Esteem, High Adventure!

So today I was feeling a bit dampy.  Damp and soggy like an old beach towel that's been urinated on and washed off in the ocean one too many times.  Usually when I fall into a dreary mood I take out my emotions on pedestrians who happen to be too stubborn about their rights to walk on sidewalks while I'm trying to drive on them.  Unfortunately, the old wagon was in the shop today due to a horrid incident with a tricycle.  Mashed up the gears and whatnot.

Anyway so today I resorted to using my grandfather's old flying machine to lighten my mood.  And so began my adventures in the skies!  The old contraption was a bit difficult to use though, as the engine nestled beneath my tummy a bit awkwardly, and every time it rumbled I felt my intestines move down another inch.  Once I took flight I came across an arch enemy of mine, Dr. Vodka Van Finklestein!  The devious doctor appeared to be riding in one of his trademark Doom Blimps, and his monocle twinkled in the afternoon sun, almost angelic really.  You know, I always thought Dr. Vodka Van Finklestein was quite an attractive fellow, objectively speaking that is.  I mean it's not like I intend to roger him or anything, heavens no!  I appear to be getting off subject.

Any how, I decided to have a little fun with Dr. Vodka Van Finklestein and rammed my small flying, spinning bladed contraption into his larger, rather intimidatingly sized one. As soon as this happened, what with his blimp not being particularly armored or anything, his Doom Blimp when flying off into the distance like a farting balloon.  I got one last look at his flailing, surprisingly fit body before it splashed down into the ocean we were hovering over.  And then I went home.  To lots of women, whom I swept all off their feet simultaneously.  Because I'm a man, who loves his women.  Yes, Cheerio.

My grandfather riding in his flying machine

Jesus Marketable Criminy!

So I was venturing around through the dollar theaters today, well it wasn't really a theater, but there were an awful cheap movies there.  Something new called "DVDs" I believe, and they were all shoved in a bargain bin.  Anyway, after pissing off the store clerk by pestering him with questions like "What do you mean you don't sell popcorn?" and "What kind of movie store doesn't accept roundhouse kicks as currency?" I decided to start sifting through the movie bin.  After a short while, I came across what I THOUGHT to be one of my all time favorite films, "The Passion of Joan of Arc" but instead what I got was some blatant rip off film, "The Passion of the Christ"

Brilliance in a Tea Cup

Brilliance in a Waste Basket

Some bloke named Mel Gibson must have saw and enjoyed one of me favorite films, (I mean, who wouldn't?) but then took the idea and used it for his OWN commercial value.  For heaven's sake he even swiped the first two words for the poster!  I was quite upset about this, and asked the clerk where I would be able to find this Mel Gibson, and he responded by sternly asking me to leave the store.  I paid the man his roundhouse, to which he responded with silence, and promptly left the store.

I think what really smacks my swollen bollocks is the fact that this film made so much more money than the highly superior Joan of Arc film.  By simply replacing one historical figure with another, more marketable one, Mel Gibson, the devilish genius, was able to make much more profit!  Just goes to show that Jesus Christ is a much bigger celebrity than the fair (and rather foxy) Joan of Arc.  Cheers as always, and if you come across Mel Gibson, give him a smack with a pair of shoelaces for me would ya?

What a Day to be a Gentleman

"Gentleman" is a term that gets tossed around rather haphazardly these days.  If a fellow does so much as open a door for a woman, he earns the title just like that.  I, being a pure bred Gentleman through and through, do not like this one bit.  A gentleman is not a man who simply opens doors for ladies, a TRUE gentleman is the kind of person who shows up in a full suit and bow tie EVERYWHERE he goes, and who lifts a woman off her feet when approaching a puddle, whether the woman is willing or not.  You gotta FORCE that gentle nature to be a GENTLEMAN!

Dressed to Kill Ladies: Figuratively Speaking

So I decided to take it upon myself to teach these gentle sissy's a lesson in manhood. Today I watched as a man opened the door for his dame, and heard her say "What a gentleman".  At the precise moment those words left her mouth, I rushed the "gentleman" and shoved his "gentle" face into the "gentle" pavement.  The woman screamed at me and asked me what the hell I was doing, at which point I lifted her off her feet and placed her on the roof of the building, where she would not need to worry about muddy puddles.

It's a good time to be a gentleman!

A Day in the Wine Barrel

Don't you just love those days where you do nothing else but sit in your father's old empty wine barrel with a good book and a lighter?   Ah, yes nothing beats reading the pages of a book in the light of the flames that are rapidly consuming it and churning it into nothing but literary ashes.  Hum ho! The best part is always when the small bit of aged wine that got left at the bottom of the barrel catches fire, spreading the flaming joy throughout the whole cylinder! 

It was just a shame that Gorgo, my charming pet Gorilla was absent at the manor today.  We used to have jolly good times calling up plumbers only to throw burning barrels at them when they arrive. 

Here's the lovely cartoon depiction that nice Japanese man made for me so I can always remember the good times.  I haven't a clue what the dickens "Donkey Kong" means though.

I beat down a bear with my bare fists.

Well I must say I'm quite thrilled that pun-title grabbed your attention!  I've been thinking all day about what a good pun would be to include in one of my Bloggy posts, and it suddenly came to me when I was sitting on top of a swollen, worn out bear, beating its pathetic face in with my golden knuckles of glory.

But that's a rather boring subject isn't it?  Let's talk about something else!  Like pretzels perhaps! Or maybe about my new theory on time travel!  I think pretzels sounds like an interesting enough subject, I'll go with that one.

If you've ever seen a pretzel, you will notice that they are literally art sculptures made out of buttered bread.  The elegant swirls and knots and twirls, it all makes me want to dance and giggle like a lassy in her brand new lollipop dress!  Ahem... but I would never do that of course.  Because I'm a man.   A big burly man.  I have a mustache to prove it!!  Ahem.  Anyway, back to the amazing acrobatic pretzel.

Learning from the joy pretzels had brought me since I was a young strapping lad, I knew there had to be a way to expand this joy beyond the boundaries of salted dough.  I went into my private office, shut the door, pulled my pants down, sat on the Jon, and brainstormed this pretzel theory.   My mind went on rapid journey through time and space, and when I arrived back home, it hit me.  Why is ballet so boring?  Well it would be less boring if the dancers were pretzel shaped wouldn't it?

Long story short, I was totally right.  The dancer's didn't seem to show much appreciation for my work though, as most of them appeared to be screaming in agony as I twisted them into pretzel shaped people.  I even salted one of them to add that final delicate touch. Ah well, at the very least, that was probably the most entertaining ballet I ever saw.  Cheers!

What a Marvelous Treat

A New Blog for a New Millennium

Nique is the Name.  Nique Liveshitz.  I am but your simple everyday action hero, nothing much really, I just save the world every couple of weeks or so. I have started this blog in order to infiltrate the Evil Dr. Zodiac's viral lair of doom and destruction, as well as the simple reason that I'm bored.  Really bored.  Extremely bored you may even say, and as the internet has taught us, with a great website, comes no responsibility whatsoever.

Luckily for me, being the responsible child-rescuing man I am, have no intention of this blog becoming popular at all.  In fact, with the internet being so large and all, it may be never seen by anyone.  That is unless I go around and start telling all my friends about it, in which case they will all visit once and then never come back in fear of more stupidity flooding their minds.

Now enjoy yourself to a lovely photograph of me and try not to wet yourself too badly from amazement.

By Jove!