Years ago, when I was working at local TV station, we installed robotic camera pedestals.
Over the course of several months, these cameras rammed into various people, causing them injury.
Then they failed to get out of the way, injuring people walking into them.
They regularly went out of control, and then rammed into people.
And failed to “ped down” passing between studios, hitting door jambs. And then, when someone approached the camera, it would “ped down” and clonk them on the head.
I added a quick set of warning labels: “WARNING: THESE ROBOTIC CAMERAS ARE NOT THREE LAWS COMPLIANT.”
Tag: television
Try This
Every so often, you’ll see a stunt on television where they say “We’re experts, you’re not. So don’t try this at home.” People still do that stuff, and they get hurt.
(Idiots!)
And when you browse websites, you’ll see warnings that a link is “Not safe for work.” People still click it and get fired.
(Dumbasses!)
But there’s a few things out there that absolutely nobody should do, see, or experience.
They’re kept in a vault 3 miles underground, guarded around the clock.
I know this, because I’m one of the guards.
And the fucking elevator’s out of order.
(Sonofabitch!)
Paris Rehab
Remember that cokehead heiress actress chick?
You know, the spoiled bitch who went around with a little dog in her purse?
They checked her into rehab again.
Same old shit:
Get wrecked.
Get headlines.
Get clean.
Get out.
Get wrecked again.
We did our best to get her into Betty Ford, but they put her here.
Shit.
But this time, we tried something new.
We ignored the chick and worked on the dog.
Poor beast was traumatized by all the fast cars, parties, and drugs.
Teacup Chihuahuas shake, but not like this.
We’ll get him adopted.
(But the chick’s hopeless.)
Elevens
Bob rolled the dice… eleven. Win.
Bob rolled the dice again… eleven. Win.
Bob rolled the dice once again… eleven. Win.
The base dealer rapidly exchanged chips, and then the stickman pushed the pile to Bob.
The pit boss put his hand on the stick. “Late bet,” he said.
The stickman raked the chips back in.
“Excuse me?” said Bob. “I didn’t move anything.”
“I said late bet, sir. Place your bets.”
The videotape showed Bob shoving the stick up the pit boss’ ass, shouting LATE BET THIS!
The casino owner chuckled, and added it to his all-time favorites shelf.
Too Ugly
Folks still ask me what it was like working with Marvin Zindler.
There was a piano in Studio B, and when things were slow and Marvin had checked his stocks enough, or he’d had his daily fight with the News Manager, he’d sit down and play.
I’d listen and enjoy.
“Simon,” he said, smiling Texas-wide, twinkling eyes behind blue lenses, never missing a key, “we’re bigger whores than the ones at the Chicken Ranch. They just got themselves prettier makeup.”
You know, early in his career, he got told he was too ugly for television.
These days, nothing’s too ugly.
Wrestling with your conscience
From the look on your face, I can tell that you’re wrestling with your conscience, right?
Me, I wrestle with my conscience out in the open. Usually somewhere outdoors with plenty of room, nothing breakable around.
Once, I dated a woman who’d wrestle her conscience in a Jello Pit while wearing a bikini.
(She tried mud once. Things just got messy.)
She made a lot of money from doing that act at bars looking to bring in a crowd.
Then came a big television deal with ESPN, left me for some Hollywood dude.
And that’s when her conscience completely vanished.
Mammoth
Under most circumstances, the escape of a cloned mammoth would be the lead in the evening newscast.
However, with the river flooding and filling with sharks, that was not the case.
“We should lead with the mammoth,” said the anchor, touching up her makeup in the mirror. “People don’t have to go into the water, but that rampaging mammoth might hurt someone out on the street.”
“It’s not exactly rampaging,” said the producer. “It’s just sitting there. We’ve got video of kids petting it.”
“What about the sharks?”
“Um, we can’t show the video of kids trying to pet them.”
Mister Clean
Mister Clean wasn’t always clean.
Despite his parents’ best efforts, he refused to clean his room.
“You’d better clean your room,” his mother would say. “Or you’re not getting any dinner.”
“Fine by me,” he said. “Everything you make tastes like ammonia and bleach anyway.”
She’d send him to his room, and he’d happy comply, slamming the door shut.
“At least we don’t have to see his room with the door closed,” his father said.
But they did have to smell it.
So, they took him to a mental hospital, where his head was shaved and he received shock therapy.
Double Rainbow
I’m not sure about the science of it, but every time we see a rainbow here in Skittles Valley, it rains bits of colorful candy.
Everybody runs around with buckets, catching the candy.
When all of our silos are full, the candy company comes around and buys up our annual harvest.
However, every now and then, there’s a double rainbow.
Nobody’s standing around with a camera shouting “WHAT DOES IT MEAN?”
Instead, we run to our cellars and wait for the storm to pass.
Glass breaks.
Wood splinters.
The winds howl.
What does it mean?
Insurance rates are going up.
Muppets
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It’s been a while since you heard anything out of the Muppets, right?
Oh, sure. Jim Henson’s Workshop carries on, but when you ask about the Muppets, they hush up quick.
It turns out they tried to make a movie about the Sicilian Mafia: The Godfrogger.
After watching a preview copy, a boss named Don Music wasn’t amused at his portrayal as a failed songwriter bashing his head against a piano.
Fozzie ended up as a bearskin rug on his floor.
Kermit got skinned and stretched over a pool table.
Poor Gonzo. Tasted like the chickens he loved so much.