Once a Dick, Always a Dick

Today we mourn a death, but shall also ridicule a life. Or perhaps a career would be a better term although I’m not so sure that Dick Clark really did anything resembling an actual occupation. A human life has passed and with that comes the inevitable weight of sadness even as many of us had assumed that he died decades ago. Perhaps, just professionally. As his spirit passes to a place of peace, let us look, examine and pick apart the sham of a legacy that he left behind.

In his heyday, Dick Clark could be heard by anyone flipping around the radio dial at any given time. His inane Top Ten pop rock snooze-fests were practically unavoidable. They’re the shows that celebrate the singers that were most willing to trade in their musical integrity for fortune and fame. Granted, Dick’s over trained phony-ass voice provided the perfect narration to showcase bands whose lameness equaled his own. If ever shoe polish graced a hearty turd, it came in the form of Dick Clark proudly announcing the week’s number one song to kill yourself to. Far worse than his ability to puss-ify the airwaves was his weekly presence on the American Bandstand TV show where viewers were subjected to his pasty face as he played records and represented rock ‘n roll rebellion while wearing a suit and leaning a phallic microphone against his lips.

It is Dick Clark’s celebrity and iconic stature that I call into question not his place as a human being. I’m sure his wife loves him; possibly him and Ed McMahon at the same time. Those two guys probably split a Viagra every Valentines Day when their old ladies start beggin’ for their bloopers. It’s just that Dick Clark’s cultural relevance is totally unbeknownst to me. All of my life I’ve heard this tommyrot about the guy being so young for his age. The phrase “America’s oldest teenager” seems to pop up every New Year’s Eve like the inevitable hangover and herpes rash. Lemme tell ya… plastic surgery could de-prune his testicles for him but it wouldn’t make him any younger. He’s had more facelifts than Cher’s ass, doesn’t smell as nice and doesn’t have any tattoos.  How uncool is that? Besides, any significance the guy had half a century ago has long since terminated. In fact, his freshness date expired about 15 minutes after his emergence as a “personality.” He was a lousy disc jockey on his best day. No technical ability was ever evident. He didn’t even cue up the records that he announced and sure as the hell couldn’t scratch like Jam Master Jay, that’s for sure. His place in history should be noted as nothing more than a precursor to Wolfman Jack, who in turn served as the blueprint for ditto-heads like Casey Kasem and eventually Ryan Seacrust. I pray these tomato cans won’t be the next batch of pseudo-celebrities heaped with undeserved idolatry for the next fifty years (open mouth, insert gun.)

Besides, it’s not as if Dick Clark was a musician at all. Sure, he’s played the skin flute and pink clarinet, but never professionally. I’ve heard his name uttered as being “synonymous with Rock ‘n’ Roll.” I feel embarrassed for him whenever I read that phrase. The fifties ushered in icons as diverse and talented as Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley. Their names will be lionized for eternity for their impact on the music world, and deservedly so. All because those guys had the balls to muster some attitude, pick up a guitar and change the world. All the while, Dicky Boy did nothing more than squeeze his lemon on their groupie leftovers. He’s the kind of guy who as a kid always “managed” the local band because he wanted to get laid but had no talent and couldn’t rock. He probably trimmed his crotch hair just to make his microphone look bigger, too.  Doesn’t sound like an worthy legend to me. Dick’s head would probably explode if he listened to any music newer than his first hairpiece.

And let us not forget Dick’s other meaningless claim to fame, New Year’s Rockin’ Eve when once a year he proves that he can count from one to ten backwards. Impressive way of showing the world he’s still a vital force in pop culture, eh? He’ll be waving at the camera and flashing his capped teeth, all the while cursing the wind for giving flight to his toupee. And I’m not convinced for a minute that he’s wearing earmuffs because it’s cold. Those bad boys were hiding a hearing aid and reinforcing the rug. I can’t believe the guy never graduated to coffee commercials. Decaff, of course. Yet, he continued to prop himself up and dangle over a microphone as if it were Pat Boone’s schlong. Dick Clark dry-humped the rock ‘n’ roll cash cow for fifty years and gave nothing back. Rest in peace, dude. I’m sure you were a great guy in your private life, worthy of a mother’s love and a buddy’s handshake but as a celebrity, you’ll always be a Dick to me.

Best Ideas of 2014… So Far

The best laid plans of mice and men don’t mean dick when you’re yakking in the can and pelting your face with Advil and Tums.

1. Exploding doormats to discourage solicitors
2. Cuervo IV-Drip for uninterrupted inebriation
3. New FCC regulations will now require that Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton and Justin BibWearer make some type of useful contribution to society  before having their name published or broadcast publicly.
4. Butt-Buzzers: Early warning ass-whistle inserted in the sphincter to signal the release of stealth-like flatulence
5. Penis Colonies: Remote islands where pedophiles, child molesters and sexual offenders are dropped off by helicopter… without a parachute. Survivors utilize their unique social skills to interact with those that appreciate inappropriate erections.
6. Body Odor Act of 2014: Mandatory daily showers enforced by law. If you can be smelled, you can be jailed.
7. Crotch-Cam video feed for FaceBook
8. Celebrity Death Hunt on RealityTV- regular people stalk the jungle fully armed with the intent of eradicating the world of celebrities they consider worthless and undeserving of fame. Baldwins beware!
9. Scented underwear by Glade
10. Sarah Palin VooDoo Doll/Inflatable Love Slave

Ass-Salad Sensation

Ass Master Jacques Cul of Myanus in Hollywood: Would you let this man stuff your ass with cabbage?

Leave it to the rich and famous. Years ago, coffee enemas became all the rage among Hollywood’s elite who swore by the procedure’s health benefits. Never content to wallow in its vast cultural offerings, Tinsel Town is ramping up to push its latest fad straight up the butt of middle America… the Ass Salad.

Unlike the coffee enema which has been around for decades, the Ass Salad  is a relatively new concept, but one that is growing rapidly in popularity throughout the country. The term itself is a collective one. It refers to a wide variety of garden-based recipes all intended for anal intake. The original Ass Salad remains the simplest and least adventurous of this exciting new movement. Also known as “The Caesar Treatment” to its users, the original Ass Salad utilizes Romaine Lettuce leaves to pack the rectum with leafy greens. The water based lettuce offers soothing relief to wipe-ravaged regions while healthful Vitamin A and Beta-Carotene is absorbed rectally. Although unproven, the salad is said to work wonders with hemorrhoids. The principle remains the same even as the recipes get increasingly exotic. The Waldorf Wedgie offers a gritty if not painful, apple and walnut based super-scrubbing in areas you can’t quite reach with a washcloth. The Ass Yolk Salad uses the binding quality of raw eggs to buff and polish the anus to a high luster. This purely organic recipe has become wildly popular within the adult entertainment industry.

Harry Cox, owner of Hollywood’s most popular Ass-Bar, Myanus, speaks candidly about his establishment and its origin. “I’d been experimenting for years with various fruits and chocolates placed strategically up my wazoo. The results varied madly. At best, I’ve experienced heightened senses and euphoria. At worst, I discovered severe allergies and new toxins. With a dill pickle parked up inside me, I literally saw God, make no mistake about it, I did see God. Horseradish, on the other hand… well, the only thing I saw was a surgeon and a hospital bill. So yes, it’s been a long road developing the wonderful Ass Salads now available.” Since the opening of Cox’s Ass-Bar last year, numerous high-profile celebrities have been spotted visiting Myanus. Among them, Julia Roberts, Mel Gibson and Ben Affleck. According to Cox, the draw isn’t necessarily the same for everyone. “Travolta is a regular now. He loves the Olive Oil Lettuce Spread with Vinegar Spritz and Cilantro. I can’t speak for him medically, but it’s a great recipe if you have a sticky sphincter. I mean, even the Tin Man needed oil. Jolie is into citrus, she’s a Vitamin-C freak, probably scared of scurvy. She was just here on Monday getting her crack  packed with tangerine wedges. It’s a very personal choice, which way to go.” Ass-Bars are reportedly popping up throughout the mid-west as celebs openly discuss their experiences with rectal absorption. Actor Richard Gere recently told People magazine, “It’s really the most natural thing you could do with your body. I see it as the ultimate merging of man and nature. I’d recommend it to anyone with a receptive opening.” The silver-haired sex symbol listed the Red Salad Slammer as his personal favorite. According to the Myanus menu, the Slammer is a pressure-inserted salad of diced tomato and cucumber shavings boasting a high level of anti-oxidants. The Ass-Bars have also attracted their share of the merely curious, however. Comedian Will Ferrell has been photographed at Myanus several times although he swears he has never had his ass made into a salad. His claim is corroborated by Cox, who states “Yeah, Ferrell comes in a lot. He strips down naked and walks around but that’s it. I think he just likes people to see his ass.”

According to Cox, the future of the Ass-Salad industry looks bright, “With the trend moving as it is currently, I can see the rectal veggie absorption scene becoming a very competitive market.” The entrepreneur however, refused to address rumors that Sarah Palin tried to lure resident Myanus chef, Ass-Master Jacques Cul to work exclusively as part of her private staff. Cox would only reply “I know not of what you speak.” Further proving the fervor of Ass-Salad fever are typically blunt remarks from Oscar winner, Sean Penn, “If you don’t try the Rectum Radish Toss, you’re a fucking asshole” he states flatly. Although appreciative of the support, Cox is quick to point out “You know, Penn swears by Ass-Salads but he’s the type of guy that comes in and has to know where the fruits and vegetables come from. What country? What port? Last week, he told me he was having special bananas shipped in from Venezuela for his personal use when he wants the Raisin Anus ‘Naner Slaw. I mean, for a guy sticking food up his ass, that’s pretty particular.”