Charlie Murphy is back! Check out these new motivational speaking videos, where he plays the guy (Leroy Smith) that beat Michael Jordan out for the last spot on his High School basketball team. Glad to see you're back, Charlie!
G'day! I was looking at the analytics for my blog today (pushes imaginary glasses up nose and geekily snorts to self) and I noticed that outside The States, the second most traffic to my blog has come from Australia—followed by Canada and The UK. I'm not sure exactly how I have a following in Australia, but thank you for stopping by, even if it was on accident.
Hopefully this posting will not alienate a large amount of the small following I have. As many of you know, I work in advertising and recently had a chance to create some commercials for a certain awesome Australian lager. The commercials have been well received here in The States, but there still might be a few Australian's who think we're making fun of them, but we're not at all, if anything we're making fun of Americans for being little wussies. I love Australians! After all, you're the continent that brought us Mad Max, how bad ass is that? Very. You also brought us the boomerang! The first time I actually got one to work, I ducked and my kitchen window caught it. And let's not forget Men At Work, Paul Hogan, Jako (the precursor to the Energizer bunny), Sir Howard Walter Florey (co-discoverer of penicillin), and supermodel Elle MacPherson! So hopefully you don't take offense to the commercials, we're only having some fun. Click on the link below to check them out, If you like them give them a 5-Star rating and I'll owe you an American stereotype in my next commercial.
So my cousin from Dallas (pictured to the left, showing us where his poop comes from) recently had a prank played on him by his friend, Raja.
Apparently Raja sent my cousin this tacky airplane keychain, pictured to the right. The keychain was packaged in a nice box, including a professional-looking form letter and an invoice for $350! It included his credit card number, address and phone number. He somehow even had it mailed from New York. When Adam called the number on the invoice he reached a pissed off dry cleaner in Manhattan. He then called his credit card company to check if the charge had gone through yet and they said that it hadn't. Raja let him stew in this one right-up until Adam was about to cancel his credit card, it was at this point that he finally fessed-up to the prank.
Adam called me looking for some ideas on how to get back at his friend, we came up with one we liked, and this is how he carried it out.
First, he printed-up all these fliers advertising the opening of a new pizza restaurant called "Sir Pizza," advertising free 24-hour delivery and unbelievable pizza and wing deals. Of course, the number on all the fliers was that of his dear friend, Raja.
Adam then proceeded to paper a nearby college campus with these fliers — thoroughly covering all the dorms. He then posted the following genius ad on the Dallas Craigslist:
Free Pizza!
We are having our soft opening tonight and trying to work out all the kinks before our grand opening next week. So we're offering a FREE LARGE PIZZA to the first 10 customers! All I ask is:
1) You tip my driver. 2) Are within 15 miles of uptown. 3) You give me feedback. 4) If you like the pizza - tell your friends!
Not only did Raja get a ton of phone calls from hungry college kids, but my cousin also got a ton of emails from his Craigslist post. A lot of people asked for free pizza, two wanted delivery jobs, and one offered to do the advertising for the new restaurant. My cousins favorite email out of all of them though, was the one he received below.
"YOU Mutha fucker don't be putting fake numbers Bitch ass!"
By the way, the "Sir" in Sir Pizza stands for "Suck It Raja."
I just heard the other day that the WB Television Network has gone off the air for good, and will now be broadcasting over the internet.
'Tis a sad day in TV land. I never even got a chance to say goodbye to their sweet lovable Al Jolson-like frog mascot, "Michigan J. Frog."
It seems like just yesterday I was curled up in front of the WB with a big bowl of Pop Tarts, a cold Shasta, and a hot "Sister, Sister" marathon.
I can't help but think that if they had just one more good show, that they might have been able to stay on the air. In tribute, I present to you a show which could have been a ratings beast for The WB. I call it: "Def Country Club Jam."
Introducing the Country Club Comics:
Announcer: Russell Simmons, creator of the hilariously popular ‘Def Comedy Jam,’ brings you his latest comedic triumph. Introducing; Russell Simmons Def Country Club Jam! — Mother Jokes Addition.
Hosted by Chip Cartwright. (A preppy white guy with sweater tied around his neck, smoking a pipe, gives a cheesy grin as he nods to the camera.)
Announcer: Watch in amazement as these Country Club crackas push the limits of good taste.
(We now see three preppy socialites hanging out in a country club.)
Montgomery: Buffy, your stepmother is so rotund that the dame wears a VCR in place of a beeper device.
Buffy: Oh, snap!
Winchester: Oh no you didn’t Montgomery.
Montgomery: Yes. I believe I just have.
Announcer: And don’t forget about Hildegard Monroe, as she brings down the guest house with this rich quip.
Hildegard: Your mother is so uneducated; she thinks a pre-nup is the first course of a five course meal.
Announcer: You’ll die laughing as top Country Club comics like William Bentley III roast mothers all over the Hamptons, with this gut-busting boarding school classic.
Bentley III: Your mother is so unattractive that even our immigrant gardener won’t date her.
(Bentley drops the mic and walks off stage, we hear boisterous harrumphs, followed by applause.)
Announcer: These crackers ain’t for eatin’, Thursday nights on The WB.
Back in college I was in a fraternity, let's just call it "Tapa-Tapa-Keg."
One semester I was asked if I wanted to be the Tapa-Tapa pledge master, along with my "brothers" Frank & Kevin.
Our duties as pledge masters were simple: Humiliate pledges and order them to do stuff we didn't want to.
Wait, what? What I meant to say was: Our duties as pledge masters were to teach the pledges about the steep history of Tapa-Tapa, while leading them through a series of challenging, yet fun, team building activities.
So let's skip forward to the culmination of this pledge period, a magical time known as "Hell Week." Hell Week marked the last time the pledges would have to put up with our shit.
If they made it through this week, they'd have earned the right to pay for our friendship.
During this final week there were a few rules.
1. All 26 pledges would have to take-up residence in our fraternity basement.
2. The pledges were only allowed to leave the house to attend class.
3. When in our presence, pledges would have to kneel before us on one knee.
4. At the end of the final week, pledges were required to throw us (and campus) a big party.
If they failed to do any of these acts, Kevin would make them wear nothing but an adult diaper, then Frank would cover them in Crisco and call them "Crisco The Kid." (I know, it sounded a bit odd and homoerotic to me too.)
These were the house rules and we assumed the pledges would find their new living arrangements uncomfortable — but we forgot how shitty and cramped the freshman dorms were.
These guys actually enjoyed living in the basement, what the hell was wrong with them?! So we came up with a couple new ways to make their stay a bit less enjoyable.
Our first step was to crank "Cracklin' Rosie" (by Neil Diamond) on 24-hour repeat, for 6 straight days. The pledges would now have to sleep and wake to the thoughtful vocals of Neil. Over...and over...and over...and over again.
Our second move was to paper the basement walls with a certain Playgirl magazine that we'd lifted a few weeks earlier from that little old lady "who liked it rough and Redford."
These new additions made their stay much less enjoyable, yet somehow they suffered through it all to the bitter end, now it was time for the big party.
We all gathered in the basement about an hour before the festivities were set to kick-off. The pledges took a knee and it looked as if we were set to go, then I noticed they forgot to take the guy porn down from the walls. This oversight would have been a major embarrassment if outsiders had seen it — so we singled out the pledge who was in charge of taking it all down. Kevin had him put his diaper on, and Frank readied the Crisco.
It was at this exact moment that the cellar doors creaked open and 3 unknown freshman came bounding in, their faces filled with absolute terror as they took in the horrors before them: I was standing in a dark basement flanked by one guy holding a tub of crisco and another holding a box of adult diapers. There were 26 guys kneeling before us and one of them was wearing only a diaper. Male porn blanketed the walls and Neil Diamond blared from the stereo.
This was one time it really wasn't what it looked like.
The Acorn King is a human being living on planet Earth. He firmly believes that with hard work and dedication, he will one day grace the cover of Cat Fancy.
Charlie Murphy is back! Check out these new motivational speaking videos, where he plays the guy (Leroy Smith) that beat Michael Jordan out for the last spot on his High School basketball team. Glad to see you're back, Charlie!
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