Oddly Enough Blog

Ve haff vays to make you talk!

Okay Blog Guy, tell us the location of the troops…

No way! You’ll NEVER make me betray my country!

Oh, so you’re a tough guy, huh? Suppose we cram brussel sprouts down your throat and make you watch “Jersey Shore?”

It won’t work. I won’t sell out my friends. There’s nothing you can do!

Is that right? Sergeant, bring out “Lonnie and his Yodeling Accordionettes.”

You unspeakabe savages! Push me to extremes, I shall not break!

Five seconds more, I’m goin’ postal!

Blog Guy, I’ve noticed you often use pictures of the Dalai Lama in your blog. He’s always smiling, and he seems to have true inner peace.

Yeah, I suppose so. But that’s his job, isn’t it?

You’re SO cynical! I bet you’re constantly hoping something will push him over the edge and make him snap, but of course nothing will ever do that.

Oh yeah? I have three words for you: Oktoberfest, lederhosen and accordions.

Watch carefully what happens when the Dalai Lama goes to Germany and they make him listen to some children playing the accordion.

What does happen?

What the Hell is that sound?

Blog Guy, can you answer a theological question for me?

I don’t see why not.

Do you think there’s music in Hell?

I know for certain there is, and I have a very clear vision of what the big orchestra there sounds like. It’s not like anything you’d find on earth.

Oh! Tell me, tell me!

Well, let’s see. Looking at the stage, over on the left I see a huge accordion section, and on the right it’s bagpipes. Hundreds of them.

This just about clinches it, I’m in hell…

Hey Blog Guy, let’s play a game. What’s the very, very worst thing you can imagine doing right now?

Um, I’d have to say, watching that World Cup thing. You know, in person.

Sure, I think most people feel that way, but surely you can be more specific. Say you WERE at the World Cup right now, couldn’t it get worse somehow?

Yeah, I guess so. I could be there and see my wife with Lamar, my assistant.

That’s a good start. But surely there’s something much worse than that.

Of course. Let’s say I’m really hungry and thirsty, but all they have are bags of unsalted brussels sprouts and pint bottles of Crème de Menthe.

Who’s the Jurk with the accordion?

Blog Guy, please help settle an argument. My girlfriend says that in some countries, accordion players can actually run for public office. I think she’s wrong.  I know you have written about the accordion problem in the past, and thought maybe you could shed some light.

Your girlfriend is right. Through a loophole in Germany’s election laws, there is an accordion player currently campaigning for office over there.

Incredible! What’s his name?

I believe it’s Jurk.

Okay, wait a minute. Somebody is playing a joke on you.  A dude named Jurk who plays the accordion may actually be elected to office?

Hey, I said he’s RUNNING, not that he could win.

Oh, the humanity!

Quick quiz: The most horrific road hazard faced by Tour de France riders is…

a) snipers in the trees

b) oncoming 18-wheelers

c) rabid leg-eating wolverines

d) blatant accordion music

Yes, all other hazards pale by comparison to the shameless accordion players, who can step out of the tall grass with no warning whatsoever.

Upon hearing the first few bars of “Lady of Spain,” even the toughest riders clap their hands to their ears and spin out of control.

Rich guy forces ukes on helpless world?

We have a heartwarming story today about billionaire Warren Buffett, and how selfless he’s been in helping to nurture ukulele music, donating instruments and lessons to young girls and stuff like that.

My readers, ever compassionate, are already writing in to ask, “Bobby, isn’t there any damned thing we can do to stop that guy?”

I don’t think there is. When you’ve got $40 billion behind an effort to roll over fine music with ukulele plinking, nobody can stop you.

How powerful is Buffett? Well, ukulele music is best-known in Hawaii, and where is our new president from? You see what I mean about pulling strings, pardon the pun?

Let’s be honest here, readers. The ukulele isn’t the worst instrument on Earth. That would be the accordion. So what we’re talking about is the second-worst instrument, and I just don’t think we can hit enough of those things with sledge hammers to stay ahead of a real rich guy.

Indeed, all any of us can REALLY do is hope that Buffett never shifts his affections to the accordion.

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Make it stop! Please make it stop!

Blog Guy, what’s the worst thing about being President?

Are you kidding me? The bagpipes.

Bagpipes?

Sure. Morning, noon and night. Shrill, unrelenting bagpipe music, until you want to rip your face off. Bagpipers follow you everywhere. The oval office, the limo, the bathroom.

I wasn’t aware. That’s barbaric.The fiends!

It is. For some reason the Secret Service agents won’t shoot them, so the President just has to listen.

But he’s the PRESIDENT! Can’t he order them away?

Keep playin’ the squeezebox, money man!

Blog Guy, all this economic meltdown stuff really has me upset! I blame the stock traders. Isn’t there any way to punish them?

I’m not sure if it would be legal here, but it looks like over in Germany they’re forcing traders to come to work in appropriate costumes, dressed as prisoners, devils, pirates, accordion players, prostitutes….

Accordion players! Like in a polka band? That’s harsh!

Well, exactly. If we tried that in the States, some namby-pambies would say it was too cruel. But if some concerned citizens take action on their own, who are we to stop them?

Yes! Thanks, Blog Guy! I’m going online for Accordion Rentals right now. Who’s with me on this?

Those wacky German traders, slideshow

Mayday! We have a Santa situation!

Okay, Santas, now listen up, because this could save your life.

It’s not all milk and cookies out there. Sooner or later you’ll drop down the wrong chimney. For instance, you might find a family of accordion players in the middle of a recital. Or maybe a house full of telemarketers and they “just want you to take a brief survey.” Or maybe it’s a cult of reindeer-eaters.

Whatever, you’re so out of there, which is why you keep your taser at the top of your bag, and you go nowhere without your rope ladder. Now let’s try it again. This time, use those concussion grenades, even if they do turn the house upside down!

More stories from the Oddly Enough Blog

Man dressed as Santa Claus hangs off the side of upside down house at Santa convention in Szymbark,  Poland, December 6, 2007. REUTERS/Kacper Pempel