If you happen to be in the area...

Come one, come all, and see The Quinn Brothers, LIVE!!! There has never been a show like it! They will wrestle bears, spin plates, juggle knives, jump through hoops, deliver babies, transplant hearts, eat fire, crap lava, exercise demons, milk cats, jump buses, comb hair, brush teeth, and much much more! Oh yes, much more!

WHERE: Wiseguys Comedy Club - 1270 West 1130 South, Orem
WHEN: This Friday and Saturday (Feb. 27th & 28th), 8 pm
COST: Not Much (But who cares? It's the freaking Quinn Brothers, man!)

I'm Baaaaaack

Please enjoy you HORRORSCOPE.

Aquarius
Your love knows no bounds. Till tomorrow, when she bounds, and gags, and tortures you.

Pisces
Get ready to play host this weekend... to a flesh-eating alien that will chew his way out when he’s good and ready.

Aries
Your true love is waiting to meet you later this week. And by "true love" we mean "Gary", the giant you made fun of, while standing in line for movie tickets.

Taurus
You knew head wounds bled a lot, but you're going to want to hold onto your socks, because tomorrow’s is going to be a gusher.

Gemini
Your astrological sign will seen ironic for the first time later this week when the doctor gets those tests back for the lump on your neck and identifies it as your twin that never developed but has been capable of thoughts and emotions your whole life.

Cancer
At first, the dog you hit with your car won't seem significant. That is, until the dog's ghost shows up to haunt you. And urinate on your pillow. Ghost-dog urine… the worst.

Leo
Luckily you're ambidextrous. But your chainsaw-juggling career is over. (Also, you won't be having any kids.)

Virgo
Before you sign that deal with the Devil, see if you can negotiate for more that just "mad banjo skillz." Your soul is worth it.

Libra
Just before you pass out, you'll wish you had paid better attention at the first aid class you took, as the neck tourniquet was not a good idea.

Scorpio
The heart-to-heart you have with your mother later this week is going to be really emotional. But it's not till you have to smash in her zombie brain with a Louisville Slugger, that the real tears start to flow.

Sagittarius
They say that when a person is attacked and eaten by a wild animal, that person feels very little pain due to the amount of adrenaline in their bloodstream. Too bad you won’t get a chance to tell all those stupid doctors how wrong they were. Oh, how very, very wrong they were.

Capricorn
You knew Montezuma's Revenge was bad, but it's not until you pass your own stomach that you learn that Montezuma really has it in for you.

(If you enjoyed these, you'll be able to find more on your iphone by downloading the application titled "Horrorscopes". My good friend, Randy Tayler, who is a much better writer than myself, asked me if I would be willing to update the content on said application on a regular basis. This week they were intended to be especially Halloween-ish, but later they'll be a little more general. Check it out.)

Hiatus

It is my regret to inform both my readers that The UnMighty is tired. I'm just so damn tired. My lack of... of... goodish word making in my recent posts should be a sign of the writing funk I have fallen into. I'm not sure how long this hiatus will last, but please be patient with me as I take a little time to recharge my batteries and replenish my creative juices and other important bodily juices. Thank you for your support and understanding.

Top 10 Congressional Suggestions For The $700 Billion

10) Face lift for Ted Kennedy

9) Purchase Mexico and make it the 51st state. (Then spend the other $699.9 Billion on the after party)

8) Time machine research so someone can go back in time and smack Barbara Bush for smoking crack while pregnant.

7) Moon Colonization

6) $700 Billion Dollar record deal for the next winner of American Idol

5) Invest in the next stage of the Patriot Act where the government inserts tracking devices into everyone's brain

4) Pay it to England as a back tax for everything we owe them since 1776 and beg their forgiveness.

3) Lend it to white trash America so they can all move into bigger houses (and then hope they pay it back this time)

2) Research and development into sustainable energy. (no, that’s stupid. sorry.)

1) Each congressman gets 2, really classy, hookers

Question 3

Assume you are going out to lunch with some close friends. This group of friends meet every Friday at the same time as part of a weekly tradition. There are four people in the group and each week a different person gets to choose where you go. For the most part the variety and quality of the chosen eating establishments keeps things fresh and enjoyable. However, every fourth week one member of the group, Steve, insists on going to Subway. Unwilling to try anything new, Subway Steve is completely unbending on this issue. His love for the long sandwich is only matched by your hatred of it. And as much as you’d like to miss Steve’s Friday you can’t because the group is governed by a few strict and unbending rules. If you don’t join them on Subway day AND eat a sub you will be permanently excluded from the group and you will lose these friends forever. There is no explanation for the rigidity of the rules. That’s just the way it is.

On Steve’s next Friday, with dread in your heart, you meet your friends at the local Subway. But this day is different. As the Subway sandwich artist completes your order and hands you your twelve inch meal you turn around and see a lone women enter the establishment and at that moment you are endowed, from some unknown source, with the certain knowledge that if you will but unwrap your sandwich, approach the woman, and then deliver the most vicious sandwich beating that your muscles can muster, you will magically develop a sincere and lasting affinity for sandwiches. You will no longer dread, but rather, look forward with fondness to Subway day. She will collapse and shriek with terror as you deliver blow after fresh baked blow. In the end the physical damage done to the victim will be minimal as the weapon was only a sandwich. However, the emotional damage will be significant and acute as this woman has never been beaten with a foot long sub in her life and will never receive any explanation as to why she received one that day. And that is the catch. You can never tell a soul why you attacked that poor woman that day. If you attempt to explain yourself to anyone, especially the victim, your new found love for the sandwich will be replaced by a bitter hatred even more powerful than before. Your friends who were shocked by your behavior will have to settle for the explanation, “I just felt like beating someone with a sandwich.”

Question: Do you continue to suffer every fourth Friday, or do you beat an innocent stranger with a sandwich?

My Letter From Prison

Dear Sweetie,

How are things on the outside? Things are good here. I got the cookies you sent for my one-year anniversary in the clink. They were excellent. I shared them with my cellmate, and he wouldn’t stop going on about how you made Martha Stewart look like a two-bit crack whore. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you I finally got another cellmate. His name is Adolf Ramirez. He’s a bi-racially confused white supremacist. We get along great, mostly because of the color of my skin. But he’s also an avid Connect Four player and has helped me improve my game immensely. He said if we were going to be bunky’s I had to get a White Knights tattoo. And since he was cutting me at the time, I said okay. But don’t worry. It’s not for realsies in my eyes, but just for laughs. I just wish the Black Dragons had believed me when I told them that in the shower. They beat my face till my eyes and airways closed from swelling. When I could finally open my eyes and see how black my face was, I had to laugh a little. Anyway, I’m really looking forward to next week, mostly because you’re bringing Maggie for the Daddy Daughter Day, but also because I’m getting a promotion in the laundry. I’m being moved from dryers to folding. The position opened up when The Preacher, (so named for his position as a Baptist preacher on the outside), woke up with a shank four inches deep in his ear. As happy as I am to take The Preachers spot, I am sorry he’s gone. We loved to ask him what he was in for, because he insisted it was for sending three fornicating teenagers to Hell, and that sending people to Hell was illegal in Louisiana. But everybody knows he was in for running into a kennel while driving drunk and killing a bunch of show dogs. But who am I to judge, maybe he did send some teens to Hell.
Hey, did you see in the news the little riot we had here. I lost a thumb. I keep bumping the stump on things and it really hurts. But some of my friends weren’t as lucky. Two guys got melted by lava while trying to climb the walls in the yard. Did you know that prisons still use lava to protect the guard towers? Can you believe that? I thought the rubber bullets were bad. But Lava?! Anyway, all the corpses have been burned, all the repairs made, and after a few weeks in the hole, everything’s back to normal.
Well, I better go because I don’t want to be late for chow. It’s macaroni n’ cheese day today and they cut up hot dogs and put them in the macaroni like mom used to do.

See you next week. Love,
The UnMighty

I Got Fired

"I Got Fired." Possibly the most pride swallowing three-word combination in the English language. It ranks right up there with "she dumped me," and "I've got herpes." It must be one of the worst phrases to have to utter to friends, family, and acquaintances. But invariably, we, or someone we know, will have to say it sometime in our lives.

I've had to say it to friends and acquaintances since July and each time I do it feels as if a little bit of the light, that was my dignity, is snuffed out. Now, the circumstances are such that I am not really ashamed of my recent dismissal, but I know that even when I try to explain the circumstances to people, they are still judging me on some level. "Sure, your boss was wacko," they say out loud, without sarcasm. But in their minds they are saying, sure your boss was wacko... with sarcasm.

Now, most people would think that a sense of humor would be an asset to a high school teacher. At least, that's what my students and many of their parents told me. In fact, the only person who told me otherwise just happened to be the person who held my tenuous position at that school in her dry, bony hands. Let's call her Skeletor. Skeletor was the school director and ran the show with carte blanche authority. She was one of those people who compartmentalized human emotions into different sections of life. Sure, humor had its place. But a school full of teenagers certainly wasn't it. I mean, c’mon.

Skeletor was supposed to be my mentor. She told me, in not so many words, that under her guiding wing and strict tutelage I would someday make a fine teacher of youth. Ironically, she was the most uneducated person I'd ever met. (That's not true. I once knew a homeless guy named Polaris that used to bathe himself in the sink and eat his lunch on the toilet of a public restroom. What I meant was, she was the most uneducated person in the field of education.) It wasn't unusual for her to be confused by words used in everyday conversation, like "ironically".
Skeletor actually only came to my class and observed three times the whole year. (Where was the guiding wing of knowledge and power, I cried from within as I struggled through each class alone.) After the class ended and the students walked out she pulled a seat to my desk so we could go over her meticulous notes and the real training could begin. The only thing I remember from those enlightening conversations was that my humor made me both unapproachable, and un-relatable to the students. I think you've let your life as a stand-up comedian cross over too much in to your teaching career, she would say. I never was a stand-up comedian, I explained. Well, I understand you did comedy, she persisted. I didn't understand what she meant, but the idea conjured images of a man who had a physically intimate relationship with comedy. I laughed to myself and when I did, I realized she was right. My two lives had crossed over. I was laughing at school.

In one breath she would say, I know the kids are having fun in your class, but are they learning anything? And in the next breath she would tell me I'm requiring too much. I was stuck between a rock and a dumb place and wasn't sure how to proceed. In the end she decided that a personality like mine wasn't fit in the world of education. And maybe she was right. If anything can be said of the youth these days, it's that they're studying too hard and laughing too damn much.