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Mr. Know-It-All: Unrehabilitated

11 Nov

from July 8, 2007

Mr. Know-It-All is back, baby, and I ain’t writing about a monkey movie. (What was that shit anyway?) I was away for a while because my “family” decided that I was drinking too much and they sent me to some rehab place. Turns out it was the same one Lindsey Lohan was sent to, and you know how well it turned out for her. So here I am with my all-new advice. (My first advice is to you, the readers- don’t read this shit.)

This first question really struck a chord with your ol’ pal:

 DEAR ABBY: I am being married this summer. It will be a fairly large wedding with 185 guests. My fiance’s parents and grandparents are very supportive. The problem is my mother. She’s an alcoholic.

When she drinks she can’t stop, and usually becomes angry and belligerent. She will cause a scene and beg people for money. If she doesn’t get exactly what she wants when she wants, she throws temper tantrums and has been known to become violent.

Mom has promised me she’ll refrain from drinking at my reception, but neither my fiance nor I believe her. What are my options at this point? Should I allow her to come, with the risk that she’ll ruin our big day? Or should I bar her from the reception?

Keep in mind that Mother was drunk during my entire high school graduation party. My friends and teachers who were there could see her bloodshot eyes and smell the alcohol on her breath. She was rude to everyone. I had a collage of their pictures on display, and she spent most of her time at the party coloring over their faces. It was the most embarrassing experience of my life. I am terrified of what she’ll do at my reception. — BRIDE IN THE MIDWEST

Change “she” to “he” and “mother” to “Mr. Know-It-All” and you have a pretty good picture of my life. My advice? Let her come. Let her drink all she wants. In fact, do what they did to Mr. T on the A-Team whenever they wanted him to fly- spike her drink. After the first drink she’ll fall asleep and then the party can continue. I have missed a ton of boring family events because of this, and I can’t tell you how happy I am. If you ever want to torture Mr. K-I-A just stick him at a family affair.

I was at my cousin’s high school graduation party last month. It was a pool party and all of her college-age friends were there, along with two of her hot young teachers. Everything went great until I woke up in the pool with somebody’s bra on my head. God I hope that wasn’t my cousin’s.

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DEAR ABBY: My husband, “Jack,” and I have been together for 14 years. We were married for seven years, then divorced and got back together six months after we split. We remarried three-and-a-half years ago.

We have two beautiful children and are happily married this time around — except for one thing. Jack says he wants me to go out and find a boyfriend. He says he wants me to be happy, that I am his entire world and he loves me so much he can’t envision his life without me.

I have told Jack over and over that this wouldn’t make me happy, that I’m happy just being with him. He continues to say the offer is there if I decide to take him up on it. He doesn’t seem to get that this is HIS fantasy — not mine. I am deeply hurt that he would want to put me out there like that. I feel as though he doesn’t really care about me and that he’s only concerned about how he feels and what turns him on.

Why would he want me to be with other men if he feels the way he says he does about me? — CONFUSED AND HURT IN FLORIDA

Lady, face it- your husband is gay. Gay! He wants you to have boyfriend so HE can have a boyfriend. But what do you care as long as they fill your holes? DO IT! (My phone number is 555-8705. You sound very vulnerable. I’ll take care of you.)

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DEAR ABBY: I don’t know what to do. My friend “Joe” and I are in sixth grade. We have been friends since the beginning of this year. His friend, “Sierra,” and her friends go to parties where everyone drinks and smokes.

I’m really worried about Sierra, especially because she doesn’t listen to Joe when he asks her to stop. How can I get her and her friends to stop going to these parties? What should I do? — UPSET IN EUGENE, ORE.

No. No no no. You should NOT stop her from going, You should START going! Those parties are great! Sixth grade was where I first tried crystal meth, and look where I am now- an advice columnist! Let me tell you about some other advice columnists. Dear Abby? A hooker. Ann Landers? Busted for dealing pot to minors in a school yard. Harriette Cole? Gave Bill Clinton a hummer in the Oval Office. Sierra does not have a problem, YOU have a problem. Start drinking now! I can’t stress the importance of drinking enough.

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DEAR ABBY: This is in response to “Young Mom in Oklahoma” (May 7), who wrote asking if it was OK to discipline her 4-year-old by smashing his toys with a hammer. Your response was appropriate. However, that mother should be encouraged to attend parenting classes or speak to her son’s pediatrician regarding her problem with how to discipline her son. I am very concerned for the child’s well-being if she even has to ask if it’s OK to smash his toys with a hammer. — A MOM WHO CARES

“A MOM WHO CARES”? Ah, who cares? Ha ha, a little joke. Of course you can smash his toys with a hammer. Smash his race cars, his robots, whatever. Violence is always the best answer to a situation like this. Toughen that little shit up. Teach him right from wrong, that might is right, and that it is a cruel cold world. That’s what happened to me, and that is the reason I am such a masochist today. Just last night I paid a hooker to smash my face with a frying pan and crack eggs on my ass. But that might also be because I have food issues too.

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DEAR ABBY: I am a former junior high and high school teacher. I do not agree with your advice to “Deflowered in Pennsylvania” (May 2), the 28-year-old who made some “poor choices” as a teenager and is no longer a virgin. She is dating “Chris,” a 26-year-old man who is saving himself for marriage and wants to marry a virgin. You told her that because Chris needs time to think about this discrepancy, she should move on.

Abby, the young woman explained that after a religious conversion, she is now saving future sexual activity for marriage. She should not feel devalued. Chris’ response was honest. She needs to allow him to grow and reassess how he treats the value they both agree on — that sex is for marriage.

Remember, Chris said he still likes her and wants to continue dating her. That makes him the one who has opted for no change in the relationship. “Deflowered” should stress to him that she has become that “sweet old-fashioned girl” who upholds traditional values, and that her conversion has helped her to understand the consequences of uncommitted sex. If Chris can broaden his thinking, they might make a great couple. — SWEET OLD GIRL

GAH! The old “saving myself for marriage myth.” This is the god’s honest truth- every woman is a whore. No woman over the age of 16 is going to save herself for marriage (except my mother- she was a saint.) All they want is man-meat! And if they say they’re saving themselves, they are really saving their candy land for a guy with more money or a flashier car or a bigger rod. If this Chris loser still wants to date her then he must be the most desperate tool ever. This girl is playing him! (NOTE- The editors of Mr. Blog’s Tepid Ride wish to stress that Mr. Know-It-All does not reflect any official editorial policy. In other words, don’t complain to bmj2k.)

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DEAR ABBY: I am a professional costume wearer. By that, I mean I have been an elf, a giraffe, a moose, T-Rex and a character for a major hamburger chain. I am presently a character for a major cereal company. Once I am in costume, I am not allowed to speak.

Adults and older children think nothing of hitting me, kicking me, pulling at parts of my costume, and trying to knock me down. One 12-year-old even tried to “head butt” me while his father looked on and encouraged him!

I am in costume for about an hour or so before I can take breaks. It gets hot and sweaty inside these costumes. I have a limited field of vision and can’t see many of the oncoming attacks. Even if I saw each one, I would not be able to say anything to stop or deflect these random attacks. What I do is have a paid “helper” walk beside me. This is now discouraging such actions by adults and children.

I would ask parents to please remember that there are real people inside these costumes, which are not heavily padded. I feel each and every hit and kick as if I were wearing street clothes. Thanks for printing this. — H.S. IN COLORADO

Oh man this is hysterical. Ha! A grown man wearing an elf suit for a living. What a riot! Here is a list of real man jobs- lumberjack, pro wrestler, porn star. Here is a list of not real man jobs- wearing an elf suit, waitress, English teacher. Look feeb, when you put on one of those silly suits you are putting a target on your back. Just go to the real man handbook and look it up- mascots are there to be terrorized, taunted, torn, wedgied, whacked, sodomized, shit on, whatever. Guys who wear those suits are too puny to make it on the team but still want to hang around the locker room, if you know what I mean. Stop being such a cry baby and carry a knife, or better yet a gun. Fire a warning shot over some little kid’s head and he’ll think twice about ripping your tail off.

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Well, I’m out of drugs, out of booze, out of time. Some I’m out of here.

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The Big Ape- the conclusion

11 Nov

from July 7, 2007

Bradford B. Jacobs entered the 1970s the same way he entered a room- not like he owned the place, but like he didn’t care who owned the place. (Odds were, though, that he owned the place.)

Bradford’s proudest moment happened near the end of 1970. It wasn’t in any way Big Ape related, but in fact related to him. His great-grandson was born. Me.

My earliest memories of great-grandpa are of me sitting on his lap in his screening room in Jacobs’ Landing, watching some of the early Big Ape films. Great-grandpa would bounce me on his knee and make some of the trademark Big Ape grunts and growls just for me. I loved it.

I had all manner of Big Ape toys, Big Ape baby food, and live Big Ape performances on my birthday. I have an entire photo album dedicated to me and The Big Ape.

The films continued, and continued, and continued, but it was the nightly news that brought some of the era’s best Big ape material. President Nixon authorized the Watergate break-in, and when security cameras showed the thieves wearing Big Ape masks, then the next film practically wrote itself: The Big Ape Meets Nixon. A tense political thriller, it is still required viewing at all college film classes.

Bradford had some of his rare missteps in the 1970s. He opened a chain of Uncle Wu’s Big Ape Vietnamese Restaurants during the height of the Tet offensive.

Jacobs Colossal Studios also began to produce a series of Great Ape films. The theory was if one giant ape is good, two giant apes are better. Bradford sold a whole slew of Great Ape products, but The big Ape invariably sold better. The Great Ape today is just a footnote in Big Ape history.

Bradco Confectionary Industries, Bradford’s candy making division, was forced to recall thousands of pounds of Big Ape Vanilla Paw Paws after it was discovered that the soft chewy candy was contaminated with spider eggs. Bradford was forced to close his Tijuana factory when an investigation showed that the entire building was contaminated with spiders. True to form, Bradford tried to make a movie out of this, but the guy in the suit flat out refused.

Big Ape portrayer Ralph Evans:

           No way was I going in there! Those spiders were everywhere! They were crawling all over the suit, in the fur, in the boots, no way was I going to put it on. I learned my lesson back in 1965 when the suit became full of tadpoles when we made The Big Ape Comes to Frogtown. It was gross! I’d played The Big Ape in over a hundred films, but that was the worst. I once heard about the guy who wore the suit in The Big Ape follies of 1939. He fell into a vat of caramel and died. No way was I going to die for this. I loved acting, but those spiders were over the line.

 Despite a few setbacks, Bradford continued to produce Big Ape films, foods, toys, and medicine right up to his death in 1986.

The effect of Bradford B. Jacobs and his creation cannot be overemphasized.

Social Historian and Professor of American History Emeritus at Harvard University, Anderson P. Mitchell III:

            To understand The Big Ape is understand America. To know Bradford B. Jacobs is to know ourselves. No true account of America in the Twentieth Century can be complete without a thorough, in-depth study of those American icons, for as America went, so went The Big Ape. As The United States grew, so to did Bradford B. Jacobs. Often, Bradford did not follow the trends of his country, he set them. The Big Ape did not merely reflect American culture and values, he was American culture and values.

            Oh, it is easy to dismiss The Big Ape as a man in a suit. Indeed, he was more. He was an astronaut in the height of the Space Race. He was a G.I at Iwo Jima during WWII. He was a family man when the American family was under attack. He was all things to all people. When heroes were shown to have feet of clay, when Presidents were found to be mortal, when the populace was disillusioned and disheartened, they could look to the silver screen for all they were lacking.

           And in Bradford B. Jacobs himself, America had it’s leading citizen. Bradford B. Jacobs was bigger than the times. He transcended politics, economics, and social status. He was the true everyman, and if a man could be shown to be the true measure of an American , it was him.

            Not a man or woman can ever forget where they were when the tragic news of Bradford’s disappearance in a hot air balloon over the coast of Australia was broadcast. And though no body was recovered, the national day of mourning did little to settle the nations grief. Much like Elvis before him, sightings of Bradford B. Jacobs are reported from time to time.

            And like true folk heroes, from Paul Bunyan to today’s greats, Bradford B. Jacobs has left a legacy that will not soon die.

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