Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Hillary's Iowa Steak Fry

Hmmm... So Hillary Clinton was in Iowa to attend Tom Harkin's "steak fry" and kicking off her thinly-veiled presidential campaign bid.

A bit too high-profile for someone who still claims to be making up her mind? Could she have gone to some small-town venue instead? I don’t think Hillary can do off-Broadway, given that the Democratic nomination is hers for the taking. Those same 200 reporters who were herded behind a barrier, waiting for her to grill some steak, would treat any Clinton appearance as red meat.

As I was reading the article, I remember thinking how strange it was that I hadn't fallen asleep. I mean, "I don't feel no ways tired." You see, I suffer from a rare form of narcolepsy that only seems to manifest itself when confronted with a story about Hillary Cli... *yawn*.. Zzzzzz

Cue wavy lines for the upcoming blog dream sequence... 

There I was in the steak line, and in full disguise as a democrat donor. I looked with pity at the other mainstream reporters "herded behind the barriers" like common WWII veterans, and thought to myself, "It's good to be deep-cover Chattering Teeth blog reporter!"

I don't want to describe my wardrobe like I did in yesterday's blog, but let's just say that when you looked at me, I "screamed other people's money."

The line moved forward until finally I stood before none other than Hillary Clinton, the presumptive heir to the throne. She thrust out her spatula and asked:

HILLARY: How do you like your steak sir?

DaBlade: How about a nice, plump cut. heavily marbeled. A red center so rare that it practically moos when they stick a fork in it.

BILL: Ahh! You mean the Monica cut! Honey, don't forget to throw a thick tomato slice on top like a beret!

DaBlade: I don't mean to complain ma'am, but that pre-cooked monstrosity of a steak you're holding is a little overdone for my tastes. In fact, its burned beyond recognition. What do you call that, the Benghazi special? You just leave that steak on the coals and ignore it's pleas for help?

 I wake up face down at my desk in a small pool of cold drool. I think to myself, I would rather stay here than picnic with Hillary Clin.... *yawn* Zzzz

Sunday, September 14, 2014

The NFL’s elaborate security network, and how I Punk'd Roger Goodell.

The NFL's reputation has received a black eye recently (as well as numerous welts and injuries to it's little bare tushy) with it's handling of the Ray Rice incident (the player who knocked out his then-fiancée on an elevator) and now with Vikings running back Adrian Peterson for allegedly striking his 4-year-old son with a tree branch - though in all fairness to Adrian, the branch is likely from a shortleaf pine, a coniferous tree indigenous to that region of Texas and which is most definitely a "softwood". And hasn't Adrian earned our benefit of the doubt in this case when he says the 4-year-old was "gettin' lippy"?

That's why I was more than a little surprised to learn that the NFL has an elaborate security network with the sole purpose of protecting the league from trouble. With approximately $10 billion in annual revenue, the NFL certainly can afford the cost for this "intricate and largely secretive three-layered security force — mainly comprised of former federal agents," but it still wasn't enough to stop the Rice or Peterson incident from occurring.

Hmmmm. "...a vast network of problem solvers who work security in one capacity or another for the National Football League." Kinda Orwellian creepy if you ask me:

Its emphases are swiftness and thoroughness, its tentacles reaching into states even without an NFL team, its code mostly one of silence. And while its agents can help keep bad actors from ever getting to the league by vetting them beforehand, they are equally if not more valuable in funnelling information back to the league office once problems occur to help make sure NFL leaders are not caught off guard.

It was at this point in the article when I nodded off (don't judge! I get sleepy when I read)... and *yaawn* started to dream... Zzz

Cue wavy lines for the upcoming blog dream sequence...

I was on another undercover blog assignment to investigate, and hopefully penetrate, the highly secretive uppermost level of the NFL’s security department with headquarters located in an anonymous New York City highrise. My advanced scouting report indicated this facility was crawling with decorated former law-enforcement officials on high alert for paparazzi from TMZ. While I had never heard of "paparazzi from TMZ", I do love mine with pepperoni, sausage, mushroom and onion, and I made a mental note to try this TMZ pizzeria joint after completion of my assignment.

The secret to being a successful deep-cover Chattering Teeth blog reporter is my uncanny ability to transform myself into a different person for each job. That is also, coincidentally, an IMDb plot summary of Legends, one of my new favorite TV shows.

Of course, I take it a step further than simply disguising myself with a fake mustache, speaking in a bogus French accent and putting bologna slices in each shoe (which I assume all good operatives do)... No, I go for TOTAL and complete assimilation in order to become one with my surroundings - veritably invisible in plain sight by watchful eyes. It's an occupation not without perils, however.

For example, after my undercover assignment to spy on the status of the president's billiards game in a Boston bar this summer, my steps to fit in got me addicted to Slippery Nipples from dirt glasses. Numerous discarded miniature umbrellas, as well as Chinese takeout boxes littered my blog studio until an intervention finally inspired me to get cleaned up. I am just happy the quality of my writing on this blog has not suffered.

But I digress.

I walked through the lobby and past the initial security desk unmolested. Obviously, my disguise was working. I was wearing a puffy shirt under well worn Lederhosen with crocheted suspenders, knee-high socks shoved into unbuckled size 12 rubber rain galoshes. I walked to the bank of elevators clutching my delivery and hit the "up" button, all the while humming the theme to that Titanic movie.

When the doors opened, I was initially taken aback to see the elevator attendant was none other than suspended player Ray Rice, his bellhop hat and tassel sitting on his head and slightly askew. Reluctantly I climbed aboard, pulling my own Pokémon hat down to hide my face from any security camera, and to also work as a sort of "sneeze guard" in the event that Rice attempted to spit on me. This hat had already proven its metal by getting me on the north lawn at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave recently in a dry run for this assignment.

"What Floor?," he asked.

"Top floor executive security suites. I have a delivery... Hey, aren't you Ray Rice, the player recently suspended for domestic violence? What are you doing here?"

"It's part of the top secret NFL rehabilitation program for problem players," he answered. "Some suit thought that if I worked the scene of the crime, so to speak, then I would eventually become desensitized to my violent reaction when confronted with "extreme femininity" in enclosed elevators."

I silently congratulated myself for not wearing my "Michael Sam" disguise, or otherwise dressing in drag as I am apt to do on most weekends.

The elevator *ding* announced our arrival to my destination, and I was once again thankful I wouldn't need help disembarking the elevator, dragged unconscious by my lederhosen suspenders.

As I stepped out and onto the top floor, I was immediately surrounded by gentleman wearing dark suits and sunglasses, each with an earbud protruding from one ear for surreptitious communications, or more likely just tuned to the ESPN network. My training took over as I nonchalantly thrust the bag of donuts at these semi-retired law enforcement officers, while in the other hand I held up the bright yellow Pikachu doll with one missing eye (hey, you use what props are readily at your disposal... or in this case, what is kept on your pillow).

"Special delivery for NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell," I stated, but the guards had quickly lost interest in me, pouncing on the donuts as I quietly slipped past.

I was in.

I made my way down the hallway marked by a sign that said, TOP SECRET NFL REHABILITATION PROGRAM FOR PROBLEM PLAYERS, and thought to myself, "this could get interesting."

The first door I passed said "DAYCARE", and peeking inside I noticed Adrian Peterson busily changing a dirty diaper in a room full of babies and children, and was decorated with various large potted trees. Even NFL executives needed daycare and the occasional babysitter, and I was thankful these small children were not left unattended.

Proceeding down the hall, I came to a door with stenciling stating GAME ROOM. I cracked the door and spotted Detroit Lion's tackle,  Ndamukong Suh engaged in a heated game of Donkey Kong with Carolina Panthers quarterback Cam Newton. I knew that Newton had recently stepped in it when he referred to the Lion's player as "Donkey Kong Suh", a term that would have been considered a thinly-veiled racial slur had it come from a white player. Detroit News columnist Terry Foster mused this: "Well, let’s say Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers called Suh “Donkey Kong.” Now you have a white guy calling a black guy a gorilla."

I don't know if Rodgers would have been suspended for that, or an apology demanded, but I couldn't help wondering how well the Packers QB would perform against Suh on the Donkey Kong field of play and whether he would be doing his patented "Discount Double Check" move to the 350lb Suh.

Continuing on, I silently practiced my expected upcoming confrontation with Goodell. "Sir, did you lie to the American public when you claimed that Susan Rice never saw that hateful video that spurred the tragedy at Benghazi, and do you share my desire to see Susan Rice, Hillary Clinton andd DNC "Chairbabe Debbie Blabbermouth Schultz" share an extended elevator ride with Ray Rice?"

Stenciled on the front of the next door announced this as the SURVEILLANCE DEPT. It was a large conference type room with banks of monitors being stared at by hundreds of surveillance staff. I had earlier pirated a mop from the Janitor's closet, so I now began to push it around and behind the work stations, roundly ignored as I eavesdropped on their reports.

I quickly discerned these monitors were importing date streams from countless video surveillance feeds across the country monitoring everything from cash register transactions and time clocks, to motor traffic, malls, bars, elevators, and drone feeds.

Station 33 ALERT! I have Johnny Football riding an escalator at his local mall and he appears to be arguing with a female! They appear to be playing tug-o-war with a bag of Cinnabons. This could get ugly. All stations RED ALERT! Let's see if we can get some boots on the ground people! Is there a mall cop nearby where we might get some audio? 

STAND DOWN. I repeat, STAND DOWN! The subjects have exited the escalator and now appear to be sharing the Cinnabons. Good work people. Disaster avoided. THIS time. But don't ever forget.

We have to be right every time. The NFL player just has to be right once.

Friday, September 12, 2014

It's Curtains for ElDiablObama

So do YOU see the horns?
Obama's Halo Turns Into Horns

Drudge debuted a photo of Obama from his speech (Wednesday) night with the curtains behind him formed into the shape of devil horns... one can't help but wonder if the last few years of lies, deception and scandals have finally taken a toll on how photographers present him.

I'm sorry. Maybe it's just me, but I'm not seeing any horns.

This must be one of them obstacle intrusion thingys.  You know the ones...
"Is it Marilyn Monroe or is it Albert Einstein?". "it's a horse!" "No, it's a frog you big dummy!" Or the latest, "Is it a president or just a community organizing jackass?"

Frustrated that I couldn't see what everybody else apparently could see, I enlarged the picture and zoomed in on the president so I could search pixel by pixel for these so-called horns everybody is talking about.
Nope. Still not getting it. All I can see are regular curtains behind our glorious leader. REALLY people? Sometimes curtains 'just be' curtains.

Can we just put this nonsense to rest and let our president get back to work protecting us?

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Michelle "Rocks" Barrack on Elevator

First, there was the disturbing act of domestic violence involving NFL running back Ray Rice knocking out his now wife in an elevator. Now this...

Saturday, September 6, 2014


Check out this screen capture of today's front page web edition of the Detroit Free Press and it should tell you all you need to know about the culture rot stew we're soaking in.

Apparently, today's top "front page worthy" stories include the outcry over a knocked-up lesbian chemistry teacher losing her job (and apparently custody of the classroom turkey baster), a vacant and decaying building in downtown Detroit getting a makeover (isn't that like putting lipstick on a Fluke?), and lastly - a heart-warming, human-interest story about Detroit satanists who promise not to sacrifice animals and people. (which moves the Detroit satanists to the superior moral highground over the near-by Dearborn muslim population).

Seriously? THESE are your top stories today? BTW, I pinky swear I did not Photoshop that front page.

The other thing I find of interest is the wording of the headlines, and how they attempt to project two concepts:

Take, for example, the top story. The headline reads:
Support grows for gay teacher who says pregnancy cost her job

The wording is meant to get you to share in a collective outrage over the apparent homophobic and discriminatory treatment of this poor lady, and maybe even to "spur" you into action in joining the "outpouring of support and a social media and letter-writing campaign" against these archaic haters.

The article links to an online petition challenging you to STAND WITH BARB WEBB! A letter was sent to administrators, which reads in part:

...We ask that you change your policies around LGBT issues for staff and students. We want to know that all people associated with Marian will have a fair chance at success and happiness in their life no matter what sexual orientation they are. We would like to see a student LGBT group...

But what if the headline to this same story were to read:

Support grows for all-girls Catholic School in Bloomfield Hills releasing teacher who violated a morality clause with “lifestyle or actions directly contradictory to the Catholic faith”

That's right. Marian is a Catholic, all-girls school in Bloomfield Hills, with an annual tuition this year of $11,600. So let me be clear (as our illustrious Dear Leader likes to say) ...


According to new numbers from the USDA, the average cost of raising a child to the age of 18 has skyrocketed to $245,000. Almost a quarter of a $Million, and that's BEFORE college costs! That figure also assumes you "take advantage" of public education and Michelle Obama's free lunches. That figure DOES NOT include tuition to send your daughter to Marian. (I'm guessing Sandra Fluke and her expenses were also dropped from this study, as this amount wouldn't cover her annual cost of contraception).

As it is with all averages, some pay more and some pay less.

And that's my point. I STAND WITH MARIAN because $245,000 might be about how much the wife and I paid to cover the cost of our boy's hockey skates and ice times from their high school years, and maybe a bit towards their Catholic school tuition. Yes, the high cost of parochial secondary education, coupled with expensive extra-curricular activities is OPTIONAL. My wife and I had made the decision that our children's education was worth the additional substantial cost in order to avoid the State-controlled secondary indoctrination that amounts to, at best, a soft child abuse in my opinion.

I STAND WITH MARIAN HIGH SCHOOL, because it is a beautiful Catholic college preparatory school for young women, founded in 1959 and sponsored by the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.  Go to their website linked above and if you do nothing else, watch their promotional video on the right border titled "see why parents and students choose Marian."

STUDENT: "...I love the teachers. I can really look up to them, and I can learn so much from them."

So in conclusion, I have a solution, and it ties in ALL 3 STORIES mentioned at the top.  If you are one of the parents or students who is outraged at Marian in their firing of this pregnant lesbian teacher, then by all means go visit the Detroit Satanists Progressive Prep High School for the morally corrupt and insane.  That vacant building getting the makeover in downtown Detroit could house this new school. Maybe they would also be happy to start your little LBGLMNOP club of like-minded carpet munchers. In any case, I think you will find their "morality clause" more to your liking.

We, at Detroit Satanist High School promise not to let your little one's sacrifice go wasted!
"..bbb-but you promised not to sacrifice humans or animals?! *lip quiver*"
Thaaat's right, but we here at DSPP lie!
Don't forget this week's Friday night football game. Come out and support your Hell Devils while you still can!

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Chicken Synergy

BLOG READER ADVISORY: Ready to have your virtual minds blown in 3 steps?

Back in May, I posted about cutting-edge technology involving virtual reality headsets made FOR chickens, "making them believe they are free-range, even if they are not," titled:
Top 5 ways to spoil your chicken

Say hello to I, Chicken, PETA’s Innovative Virtual Reality Experience, which promises to "Turn You Into a Chicken"

PETA’s youth division, peta2, will take the cutting-edge, three-minute I, Chicken experience to more than a hundred college campuses, where thousands of young people will discover firsthand what it’s like to be a chicken—seeing their reflection, socializing with other chickens, and enjoying a dust bath. The VR experience helps people develop empathy for chickens, who aren’t seen as individuals with interests, wants, and needs but rather as producers of meat and eggs.

I sense that some of you may be ahead of me already...

IMAGINE, if you will, joining these two distinct technologies together. On the one hand you have chickens wearing virtual reality headsets displaying soothing utopic chicken scenes and peaceful surroundings. Sure, the virtual stimuli are all lies, as the chickens are actually standing in their own feces awaiting slaughter. NOW IMAGINE that the human wearing the I, Chicken headset is wired to a chicken wearing it's own VR headset....

I'll take a second so you can catch up on that last concept... The human "sees" what the virtual chicken would "see" out of the chicken VR... To recap, my twist on these existing technologies will allow people wearing these headsets to ignore the reality of their situation, believe the lies they are continually being fed while they march forward toward their own decapitation.

I call it "I, Journalist".

Here is the split screen video of a gentleman "playing" I, Chicken. I find it hilarious watching these clueless creatures strut around without a cogent thought in their heads... I'm talking about human liberals. I love the chickens.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Chatterpedia update

The Only Answer to the Evil of ISIS: Eliminate it By Force
'nuff said.

 Soldiers 1 Camel Spiders 0 (language warning)
UPDATE on leaked celeb cartoon nudes! (by popular demand)
According to Chatterpedia, this is the early concept of Betty Boop (originally "Sandra Flookes")

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Hacked Celeb Cartoon Nudes have some animated

First came the naked and semi-naked pictures of celebrities like Jennifer Lawrence put online by hackers who hacked the celebrities’ online accounts. Now comes a massive cache of nude pictures of cartoon celebrities hitting the internet.

What Spongebob Squarepants (the first openly gay cartoon sea sponge) and his starfish pal Patrick share in the privacy of their own iCloud is not my business.

UPDATE: Chattering Teeth Blog has learned that Sandra Fluke is suing the anonymous hacker for refusing to publish the pictures of herself in the buff that she sent him numerous times, only to receive them back with "Return to Transgender" in the subject line. There are some things even the most perversely curious don't seem to have the stomach for.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Obama Responds to Release of Michael Sam

Michael Sam, the first openly gay football player, has been released by the St. Louis Rams organization and...

many fear this discriminatory action will lead to unrest in the Ferguson inner city gay community.

obama may not yet have a strategy to deal with the likes of ISIS (who remains busy mass-slaughtering Christians and beheading journalists), the president DOES have an emergency plan to deal with this "Sam" crisis and is using the full force and weight of office to deal with this growing threat of unrest.

PICTURED: President Obama (via video stream from latest fundraiser) rocks out his new "Captain Obvious" suit (from hotels.com fame) after receiving criticism for wearing a tan suit.

OBAMA: Uhhh...  Let me be clear. I don't want to get the cart before the horse, but I know for a fact that Michael is "Ram Tough", if you're picking up what I'm laying down. Therefore, I have instructed the Justice Department to open a federal civil rights investigation into the release of the first openly gay football player, Michael Sam. They are on the ground and along with the FBI, they are devoting substantial resources to thaaaat investigation.

I am also dispatching Attorney General, Eric Holder, to the St. Louis front offices to determine exactly how they acted stupidly in Sam's release, and to begin building that civil Rights case against them.

In an apparently move to stave off the anticipated angry reaction by the Ferguson inner city gay community, obama has preemptively  dispatched the National Guard to protect all Missouri Bed, Bath & Beyonds from looting.

A league source said earlier this week that the Rams would like to bring Sam back to their 10-man practice squad, as there locker room has been clutter-free and shower area has never been cleaner.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Robin William's ghost kills at this year's Chinese Hungry Ghost Festival

The recently departed American comedian, Robin Williams, made a surprise guest appearance at this year's Chinese Hungry Ghost Festival (7th Aug 2013 - 4th Sep 2013) and performed an impromptu stand-up, much to the delight of the crowd.

With roots in Buddhism, the Hungry Ghost Festival is a time of honouring ancestors and appeasing the ’hungry’ ghosts that wander the world of the living when the ‘Gates of Hell’ are opened once a year.

It is believed that these Gates of Hell are opened once a year during the Hungry Ghost Month and all the lost and hungry ghosts of hell are free to roam the living world. To appease these lost souls and to prevent them from causing the living harm, people put food out for the ghosts to enjoy. Elaborate ceremonies and rituals are also performed to please the ghosts

I go to the ghost festival every year, as I am a huge fan of Chinese operas, puppet shows, and animal juggling. Hey, who isn't? Besides, it's a cheap vacation, as I always travel via an out-of-body experience by assuming the cross-legged trance position, clutching my brown bag and burning my special incense.

So I finally get there and the entire first row was empty (as always), so I took a seat and waited for the next act. That's when Robin William's ghost floats on stage wearing a mock Islamofacist Hijab.

"Goooooooood morning Hong Kong! It's 0900 hours. What does the "O" stand for? O my God, it's HOT down there! And the jokes on me, cuz I apparently am one of the 72 virgins that crowd was promised."

The crowd of live people laughed and clapped uproariously, as Williams continued the harried rapid-fire comedy pace he was well known for. The Chinese-speaking audience couldn't understand a single word he was saying, but they seemed to be enjoying the show. Come to think of it, I could never understand what the heck this cat was saying either, but I always seemed to laugh too.

At one point, William's jokes fell flat when he insulted the audience by saying, "I don't think you're smarter than anybody else, but you've convinced a lot of us you are...."


But then he seemed to recover quickly: "..One problem that I've had today is keeping my Wongs straight."

...and the crowd ROARED and was back in his corner.

There are standard "hungry ghost" jokes every deceased performer gravitates too, and Williams was no different. Groaners like: "What do skeletons say before they begin dining?... Bone appetit." and "Where do hungry ghosts buy their food?... At the ghost-ery store!"

Jokes that were not funny in and of themselves, but made to be hilarious by William's delivery, as he waved his arms and strutted the stage back and forth, delivering various lines by alternating between a deep then cartoon squeaky voice."

At the conclusion, Robin William's ghost did a funny bit on the "dos and don'ts" of re-gifting:

"Do put thought into the unwanted gift. Maybe you have enough new silk neckties and believe your friend could use the item better.
Don't re-gift a new silk necktie to the ghost of James Foley (the beheaded journalist). He won't think it funny."

"Do re-wrap the gift in new wrapping paper, with ribbons and a bow.
Don't re-gift a used item, even if its a slightly used leather belt not used as originally intended, even if you think it would look good on obama."

It was then that I awoke in my darkened linen closet, the contents of the brown bag long since gone. The pounding headache behind my eyes did not dampen the memories of Robin William's ghost's performance still fresh and funny. He broke all the rules (30 THINGS YOU SHOULD NOT DO DURING HUNGRY GHOST FESTIVAL) but I am sure he will be back next year.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Random Pictures in this week's news

Pictured are broken and damaged Napa Valley wine bottles after the Bay area earthquake.

 obama has ordered the National Guard to transport these emergency rations to the Ferguson protestors. Molotov cocktail anyone? No Pinot Noir, No Peace.

This is a picture of a British health care worker with Ebola being transported home for treatment

and NOT a picture of obama being transported by aides from the golf course to the nearest fundraiser inside his climate-controlled jacuzzi.

This is a picture of a mysterious giant crack reported in Mexico

...and HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH Sandra Fluke visiting an "all contraception inclusive" in Cancun.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

The Presidential Iceberg Challenge

Obama... You've been challenged!

To benefit the ALP foundation
(Act Like a President!)

Monday, August 18, 2014

In space, no one can see your skat

Dear blog,

Monitoring of my heat signature and any wi-fi connection may be spotty for a day or two, as I will be testing my mail-ordered Anti Drone Tent constructed of gold thermal blankets and in the warm(?) embrace of my sleeping bag and onesie unitard footie pajamas I've fashioned from a few rolls of aluminum foil and spare gum wrappers.
But have no fear.

In the words of the late, great American philosopher Moe Howard, "Do not worry about everything... Anything will be OK". 

Time will tell if this backyard experiment leads to the Coup De Blog.


Friday, August 15, 2014

Obama Waves Off Intel Briefing to dance

Obama Waves Off Intel Briefing
"Hours prior to taking off for his Martha’s Vineyard millionaires’ paradise vacation, White House staff in conjunction with  someone from the Pentagon, attempted to update the president on security concerns... an attempt that was brushed off by a clearly annoyed Barack Obama..."

OBAMA: “Don’t bother me with this sh*t.  Update Susan or take it to Denis.  You know the drill.”

(The National Security Advisor) and the Pentagon official were left standing in the middle of the second floor hallway watching as the president walked toward the exit and his awaiting helicopter, with his bicycle helmet strapped on securely and carrying his golf clubs.

Sung to the tune of LEE ANN WOMACK'S "I HOPE YOU DANCE"
I hope you never lose your sense of plunder,
The middle East and now our city streets are catching fire,
And when you get the choice to do your job or dance. 
I Hope You Dance!
Obama dancing the night away at Martha's Vineyard

Reminds me of this Star Trek episode...
Kirk DANCES! (and other Star Trek action sticker scenes!)