Mr T, or Sir T as the English call him, is a noted thespian whose work in Rocky III and The A-Team has defined a generation. While Mr. T has opted out of the political realm thus far, his disdain for jibber-jabba and "fools" is well known. These policies have garnered support from singing chipmunks and mohawk enthusiasts everywhere.
By Mr. T
T don't normally pay much mind to the jibber-jabba that goes down on the blogs of my colleagues, but I did happen to notice Sam Jackson's recent musings 'bout that shoe throwing incident. Sam was making noise about why some chump journalist would throw his shoe at a president. That don't really concern T. What concerns T is how sucka George Bush can dodge a shoe so fast.
Watched that video til my eyes went blurry, then I watched it again. How did George Bush get so quick? Looks like he dodges shoes every day. He's like one of those coyotes that come to T's house lookin' for dogs to ambush; when T throws a rock at the coyote's head, sucka already gone. Makes T sad, when he can't hit a coyote with his rock.
Big night last night. Big debate. Played a little drinking game: every time someone said "Joe the plumber" T drank his Sparks; by the end of the night T had punched through the ceiling of his house and had bought two thousand dollars worth of hamburger meat and no buns.
It is with great, great regret that I am unable to accept this offer that you will no doubt be making to me any day now, Barack Obama. How do I know this offer is forthright? My qualification speak for themselves:
T read that Obama is looking for someone with foreign policy heft, and T has extensive experience fighting the red threat in his action movies, television shows and public service announcements of the 80s. Another time T broadened his international horizons by taking a trip to Scandinavia cause he wanted to see those silly people walk around in those funny wooden shoes. (Going to the market sounded like a tap recital.)
Security wherewithal? Ha! T laughs at the thought of having to explain how his fool-dropping, sucka-slapping, blockhead-busting moves would strengthen homeland security.
But as T foreshadowed in the title and opening sentence, T must decline this must generous offer. You see, T is above partisan politics.
So T. gets up this morning and reads that Batman beat Spider-Man this weekend. And it made me mad.
This is an absoludicrous situation. Spider-Man, you got superpowers. You can jump. You can stick to walls. I always thought that if it came down to you and Batman, you could web him up to a flagpost. He'd be throwing gadgets from his utility belt and you'd be like "Fool. don't you know I'm Spider-Man?"
But you took your eyes off the game. You started with the jibba jabba and let Batman make a fool out of you. Spider-Man, you got to believe in yourself.
So an alternate Indiana Jones script leaked online. Why do so many things leak on the internet? The internet should have more respect for itself. Don’t go around letting people leak things on you. Shape up, internet!
Anyway, the script. I like the writer of it Frank Darabont. He once pitched an episode of my old show “T. And T”. It was thoughtful and deep, without losing the realistic courtroom drama of the series. T respects his talent.
In 2003, he wrote a draft for the new “Indiana Jones” movie. And compared to “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull”, it’s pretty good. There’s a few changes from the movie, so if you can’t stand spoilers, you’re in for some pain.
1. No kids. Ain’t no Mutt in this script. Indy’s dad is in it but no kids. That means Indy has to work things out for himself. Use his brains, not his friends. Stand up and be a man. That’s a good Indy message for the kids. The ones who ain’t in this script.
2. Marion acts like Marion. I’m actually upset about this one. In the movie, Marion’s a momma, and T knows you gotta treat a momma right. But in the original script, she’s still drinkin’ and cussin’ like she used to do. It takes T right back to the 80’s. I felt like George Peppard was with T again.
Wednesday was T’s birthday. Most years I go out on my birthday and eat more pizza than you ever heard of, but this year I thought I might try something different, just didn’t know what. When I’m not sure what to do, I text my invisible friend Cha Cha. Cha Cha got answers for T. But sometimes T can’t stop asking Cha Cha questions, and he ends up ruining his own birthday.
T: What should I do for my birthday?
Cha Cha: Picnics are great. I also think going on a hot air balloon ride would be a fun thing to do on your birthday!
T: What?! T ain’t goin’ on no crazy hot air balloon!
Cha Cha: Thanks! Keep texting your questions!
T: No, I ain’t got no time for this jibber-jabba. It’s my birthday and I got things to do!
Cha Cha: Thanks, happy birthday!
Can someone explain to me how millions of fools love the show Lost so much? If those sucka’s want suspense, subtext, and hidden layers of symbolism, they needn’t look further than reruns of The A-Team. And, while there’s plenty of relevant sociopolitical commentary woven in to every A-Team episode, the real magic happens during the commercials.
Ponder this pizza bagel commercial: For a few frames, a young child wearing a black martial arts can be seen karate kicking a basketball on a soccer-field. That’s deep. That’s the kind of commentary on the human condition that contemporary television refuses to grapple with. Sometimes, I want to punch television programming in the side of its head.
I had to blow off some steam at the gym this morning because my emails to dine with Larry King keep going unanswered. I know that fool has email. I did one thousand knuckle pushups with handclaps on the sidewalk outside of the gym, I was so mad. Sucka, I’m still fumin’.
Larry King has all the time in the world to go eat chicken and waffles with Snoop Dogg, but repeatedly ignores my invites to have a Wheatgrass, Flax, & Black Bear Gall Bladder Smoothie at my local shake shack. Larry King, I am very angry at you, but my mother told me if I have nothing nice to say to a fool, don’t say nothing at all. Fool.
“Mother” gives the AirBook a stompin’
I went to the Apple Store this morning because my wifi has been down all week. If I go too many days without checking my MySpace profile, I get all disoriented. It feels like there ain’t enough air in the world to fill my lungs.
I’m still here, blogging from one of the new thin Aerodynamic-Macintosh-Books. I’m surrounded by fools who think these new laptops are great. Makes me mad enough to stomp a parakeet. All this people keep picking up these computers off table and saying “This computer’s so light” and “This computer’s so thin”. I ain’t a sucka. I like to break sweat when I pick a computer up.
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