Fairy News!

Selected Excerpts from the New Pixie Review, October 30, 2009 – Issue 4, Volume 45, Spellbook #12

Dateline- Wonderland, California- Tooth Fairy Inc. employee Alfred E. Twinkletoes was arrested Thursday on suspicion of he defrauded his company.  The allegations include a scheme to buy fake teeth from a local human girl.  Mr. Twinkletoes purchased the false teeth from under the girls’ pillow each night and paid top coin for each false tooth.  The human girl then split the cash with Mr. Twinkletoes. 

If convicted, Mr. Twinkletoes will have his wings pulled.  There is very little the Magic Kingdom Police Department can do to the human accomplice, however, her name has been moved to Santa’s Naughty List.

Dateline- Spitsburg, California – With the increased consumption of candy among human children and the subsequent increase in cavity ridden teeth, the harvest of grade A tooth enamel has been drastically hit.  There seems to be no end in sight.

Compounding the jump in commodities prices is the stubborn constriction of pixie dust production.  Magic dust is produced from all pixies in the same way dandruff is given off by humans.  Since the advent of harsh, drying soaps in the 1950s, there have been no significant breakthroughs in increasing the “dandruff” of pixies and fairies.  Researchers now struggle to find a way to make our scalps more itchy and flaky.  Yet these same researchers worry that anything more abrasive in the shampoos that 97% of pixies already use would cause baldness. 
Yipkin Ringnut, an associate at the DustGiven Research Institute, says, “Look, being bald is only cute if you’re a baby.  Bald pixies and fairies confuse our customers.”

Dateline – Dumbknuckle, California – A graduate student at the California Institute of Mythology was sitting around the dorm one day when he was struck with a near genius idea. 

Eugene Opium is the student.  “Yea, so a few of my pals and I are, you know, just sitting around scratching up some pixie dust when it hits me.  Let’s plant some potatoes.  I don’t know…I just felt like potatoes but there wasn’t anyplace to plant them.  Then it came to me…human earwax might work!”

Indeed it did.  Production of pixie potatoes seems to skyrocket when planted in the terrible tasting muck that collects in the human ear.  Many tooth fairy agents find it convenient to pick or plant these potatoes while working their normal rounds. 

While the health effects of eating human grown potatoes are unclear, pixie farmers have had great success growing “ears” of corn in the brown wax.  Also of note, the sedimentary humans known as “couch potatoes” seem especially adept as a growth zone.

Fly Like A Dodo!

Today’s airline industry is swarmed with bad ideas and seemingly self-destructive business plans.  At DodoAir.com we ask, “If annoying travelers is all it takes to make an airline fly, can we not accomplish that?”  We most certainly can!  Come fly like a dodo!

The savvy traveler can now save money with our new third-class type of ticket holder…baggage class!  If you’re not claustrophobic but your wallet is, then this is your ticket!  Scoot in, tuck your legs, and watch those luggage handles!  Annually washed pillows are available upon request.

Did you know that a huge, multimillion dollar passenger plane has NO REVERSE?  That’s right!  Capable of flying half way across the globe at amazing speeds and dizzying altitudes but it can’t back out of a paper bag!  At DodoAir.com, passengers find a place in front of the plane to push it onto the runway before boarding.  No expensive and unnecessary crew and equipment!  We call that additional cost savings! 

To further make air travel so grossly convenient, we at DodoAir.com have instituted a schedule of fees.

1) If you fail to urinate or defecate before boarding the plane, you will be charged an Escheatment Transportation Fee or ETF.  This fee ranges from six hundred to seven hundred dollars.   
2) Peanuts are too expensive and increase the plane’s weight.  At DodoAir.com we now proudly serve Styrofoam peanuts.  (Available in your favorite color)
3) Passengers carrying a spare tire, junk-in-the-trunk, or both will be charged for an extra bag.
4) Instead of the prohibitive cost of soft drinks, air hostesses will now simply spray a refreshing, fruity aerosol in your face.  NO CHARGE!
5) Passengers with excess body hair cause undue drag on the progress of the airplane in flight.  If the captain awards you furry status, you will be charged.   Sorry no discount for baldness.

Come, experience the joy of cheap travel with DodoAir.com.  Fly like a Dodo!

Don’t Bet On It

 Mr. Samuels and I are standing in the school auditorium as the buses empty their entrails.  We haven’t said anything for a while and so I reach into my standard conversational questions.  (This will definitely become a DodoEgg someday.  Everyone should have a list of basic questions that scatters uncomfortable silence.)

“Do you bet Mr. Samuels?”

He makes a forced frown and rocks up on his toes.  “Ah, I play poker a bit but I only use money I can afford to lose…you know, discretionary money.”

Most people respond this way.  I usually reply one of two prepared ways…

A) “Of course, you’re insane if you view gambling money any other way.”

B) “Is there really such a thing as discretionary money when most people owe on a house or know people in need?’

I’m not really interested in broadening the conversation so I chose Option B.

Mr. Samuels nods and continues.  “You know, I have a friend who learned to play craps.  Well, he manages to win, like, 8,000 dollars the first night he plays.  He thinks he’s some sort of idiot savant and runs out and quits his job so he can play craps full-time.”

“So, he’s more idiot than savant.”

More nodding.  “Right.  Soon he’s thirty thousand dollars in debt with no job.  Then it occurs to him that he’s made a mistake.”

My eyes widened.  “Thirty thousand, huh?  You mean at the twenty thousand mark he was still thinking, ‘This will work out fine.  I just need to stick with it?’  He turned a good thing like winning money into a bad situation.  Strange.”

A bulge under one of the bus kid’s jackets indicated they were trying to smuggle in a weapon of mass destruction into the school again.  Mr. Samuels left my side to go and confiscate it.  It turned out to be just a tank of mustard gas…rookies…7th graders still have a hard time getting nuclear materials.

Addendum:  I was driving by a casino last year and was amazed by the thick number of billboards that crowd the roadside.  Anyway, most of them bragged about “95% payback on slots!” – as if this was a good thing!

In other words, we’ll change all the dollars you’ve got into ninety-five cents!  What a service!  Try the buffet!

Earning an F

“Are you gifted?”…”No, I’m Steve.”

 A young man shoves his small pile of school supplies from the tabletop into the mouth of his open backpack.  He’s excited because this is going to be the year he makes his mother proud.  This is going to be the year he makes the honor roll and takes his place among the smart kids.  He wants to meet his new teachers.  There’s also a chance he could be seated next to Leah Schumaker!

 His mother is in the car and she’s already started the engine.  She’s late for work again and if he doesn’t hurry, she’ll chew him out.  Then she’ll drop him off a block from school which means a mad dash through school morning traffic – good thing his backpack has reflective strips!

 “Now remember,” she’ll tell him.  “Mommy needs her money for her medications so you’d better write on everything you have whose it is.  I’m not kidding.  If I have to buy you pencils instead of Prozac I’m likely to stab you with them.  And remember – mommy spent time in the slammer so I know how to make a good shank.”

 The young man makes it to his classroom and while the teacher begins her speech (“No gum, no talking, no cheating, no bad hygiene, no notes, no foreign languages, no clothing from the 1970s) the student takes out a pen.  With keen intensity he begins following his mother’s instructions to mark each item he owns. 

 Carefully, he etches “M-I-N-E” into the side of all sixty pencils.

Being Professional

 Three years ago I had a student in my last period math class who in no particular order…

1) Never came to class with a pencil or paper.  Nothing!  What was he doing during the five minutes it takes him to cross the hall from Science to Math?  He wouldn’t even bother to ask to borrow from the kids around him.

2) Speaking of five minutes – sometimes it wasn’t enough!  I’d begin class and the door behind me would open interrupting my class.

3) He honestly lacked any detectable math skills.  He didn’t even know his multiplication tables!

4) This student made no effort to learn.  He wouldn’t listen to the lesson or instructions.  Once the assignment was made, he would not know how or what to do.  Then he would proceed to huff and puff until I arrived to repeat them specifically for him!  (And then he still didn’t know how!)

5) This boy would not shut up.  He disturbed others around him with his constant yapping.  Write-offs and detention did little to inhibit him…instead he would pout because I was picking on him.

One of the other teachers was writing up a discipline referral on him.  She approached me about anything I could contribute.

“Yes,” I began.  “Write on there that Douglas is a complete educational negative.”

Later that day, the principal shows up at my door, “What’s this?  You can’t write this.  Everything has to stay professional.  Just the facts.”

Ok, so I wrote out the five items listed above then I looked at my principal and quietly said, “Are you sure you didn’t want the condensed version?”

Professor Hurlbert Interview

Miss Nomar walked through the front doors of the converted hospital and is immediately surrounded by stern walls clad in sterile, sea green tile.  Everything is quietly bathed in light from periodic light fixtures a few of which are not even on.  Dakota University – Medora Branch’s renovation of the old hospital was a modest one.  A few of the surgical rooms have been made into classrooms with only the addition of a few folding chairs and a feeble podium.  Smaller patent’s rooms are now the offices for DUMB’s faculty.

A student with abnormally good posture and long unmanaged hair meanders by.  Miss Nomar raises a hand in order to pull in his attention.  He grudgingly stops as if the lost momentum causes him pain.

“Yes, excuse me, can you tell me where Dr. Hurlbert’s office is?”

The student points towards the steps just beyond his shoulder.  “Uh, yea, Dr. Vomit is right up those stairs then somewhere on your right.  Just read the signs.”

“I’m sorry, did you just call him Dr. Vomit?”

A smile reaches across the young man’s face and his head bobs a bit.  “Heh heh, yea, with a name like that you really shouldn’t teach, right?  You know, just too easy for the students to make fun of you.  It’s really not so bad though, you should hear what we call Dr. Chitfaus.  Like I said, I really don’t think they should allow you to teach when you have a goofy last name.”

Miss Nomar’s face went deadpan, “Cool, say I’m working on the college’s online newsletter.  If you tell me your name, I’ll quote you.”
The student stared at Miss Nomar for an additional twenty seconds before shrugging and moving back into his sluggish gait.

The only thing to be heard as Miss Nomar continued to the next floor was the short rasp of her footfalls on the cold steps.  It was the first Friday of the new semester.  Each class’s projects were long from being due so the halls were empty of students begging for an extension and singing dirges of sorrow.  It didn’t sound like anyone was around.

Miss Nomar arrived at Dr. Hurlbert’s door and knocked.  It was a hollow sound and seemed swallowed by the office on the other side.  A second later, the door knob turned with a bit of a high squeak.  The door opened and the professor welcomed her inside with a sweeping motion of his arm.  His height and build were plain with a slight bulge around the midsection of this suit. 

“Well, you must be Miss Nomar.  Welcome.”  His graying beard parted in a friendly grin.
The interviewer stepped in and found a seat in front of Dr. Hurlbert’s meticulously organized desk.  “Thank you, yes, I’m here from…” 

“Oh, I know, DodoEggs.com!  You know, that’s my favorite site!”  He began laughing and under his breath he muttered.  “Scrambled thought from fried thinkers…kills me every time.”

Miss Nomar removed and started her recorder as Dr. Hurlbert took his seat.  “Someone called DodoEggs.com and said that you’ve quit teaching yet maintain a paid position with DUMB.  As part of my investigative job I’ve come to find out how.”

Dr. Hurlbert didn’t reply for a moment.  Instead he just stated at Miss Nomar before shaking his head.  “Golly, I’ve almost forgotten how strange it is to hear a woman speak.”

“I’m sorry.  What do you mean?”

“Well, the college needed someone to prep the cadavers for med labs.  I volunteered and so I’ve done nothing but cut up bodies or whatever for almost a month now.  After work I spend my evenings on the internet – you know – I’m kind of a geek.”

Miss Nomar struggled to hide her disgust.  “You cut up dead bodies?  Why would you volunteer for such a thing?!”

“Well, to meet ladies, of course.”  He quickly raised his palms to stop Miss Nomar from interrupting him with the obvious questions.  “Wait, let me explain.  I thought working with and cutting up donated bodies would be a great conversation starter!  Can you imagine how curious other people would be about my work?  Instead of saying something boring like, ‘Yea, I teach,’ now I’m saying, ‘Yea, I work over dead bodies!”

Miss Nomar’s eye’s narrowed.  “Wait, are you the one who called DodoEggs.com and set up this interview?”

Dr. Hurlbert rolled his eyes, “Well yes, I mean…”  He stammered for a moment then continued, “I’m a little desperate for attention from, you know, a living woman.  I tired getting a Russian bride and thus far the only Russian I’ve learned is ‘Nyet.’  What does that mean anyway?

“Before that, when I was still teaching, I tried impressing the female faculty members in the lounge with origami.  You can guess that that didn’t go over either.  I thought an interesting job in the field of Corpse Management would make conversations and thus interest in me automatic…hasn’t worked out though.”

Miss Nomar stopped the tape recorder and stood.  “Thanks for dragging me down here.  If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with a 64 oz. diet soda.”

Dr. Hurlbert stood as well, “Wait!  Don’t you want to hear what we do with the leftover parts?!  How about I tell you over dinner!?”


Love is a magnificent concept.  It’s a shame there’s no Book of Love that spells out all you need to know.  It’s also a shame there isn’t a Love Potion that seals the deal.  That is until DodoEggs.com, your authoritative source for everything, cracked open the problem.

When the world class power of our custodial staff teamed up with corporate vice monitoring, both problems were quickly rendered mute.  A book, soon to be released by anyone we can sucker into publishing it, details all of love’s delicate gears.  We also have a tonic (not sure whether it’s the drinkable kind) that will bridge love’s pitfalls.

Here are a few excerpts from Dodo Bird’s Book of Love’s first few chapters…call it foreplay.

On loving you mate“When you look at your spouse, you’re looking at a part of you.  So treat her as you would treat yourself.  Feed her plenty of donuts and have her watch lots of football.”

On argument resolution – “The very moment one of you says, ‘I’m going to my Mom’s!’  The argument is over.

On love fighting fair- “Married couples who learn to work through conflict tend to be closer, more trusting, and more likely to grow weed in their basement.”

On argument resolution- “The wise and loving thing to do is to start approaching your disagreements with a willingness to not always insist on your own way.  Giving strong consideration to their preference is a good way of valuing them.  Then just do what you want to or live with disappointment.”

On love fighting fair- “Before a disagreement, make sure you:  listen first before speaking, deal with your own issues first, speak gently, and be polite when you ask for the last (years married) back.”

On and exciting relationship- “Two people who always share the same opinions and perspectives won’t have any balance or flavor to enhance the relationship.  Rather, invite an in-law to move in with you.”

On love fighting fair- “Love reminds you that your marriage is too valuable to allow it to self-destruct, unless they violate the prenuptial agreement.”

Of course, at DodoEggs.com we cannot reveal the entire secret recipe for Love Tonic but here are the first two in no particular order…

6 cups of Stetson Cologne for Men (undiluted)
1 gallon of chocolate syrup.

You could stop right there and have your choice of mates!  Thank you DodoEggs.com!!

Smothered Hooks!

DodoEggs.com, conveniently located in downtown Manhattan, has done it again!  Seemingly insulated by an urban tomb of concrete and glass, the innovative geniuses at DodoEggs.com expand their line of helpful products with the fisherman’s new best friend…The Smothered Hook!

Now you can purchase these hand crafted (machine assisted) surgical, stainless steel hooks with the bait already baked right on!!!  No more stopping at a bait shop for a bucket of useless, slimy night crawlers.  For crying out loud, how many times have the kids accidentally spilt those things all over the new Corinthian leather seats of your new Mercedes?  Countless!  Now you can buy hooks with the delicious night crawler morsels baked right on!  No muss, no fuss, no “ewww gross!” from the kids you’ve forced along!  (Why actually go fishing when there’s plenty of fishing video games you can play!?)  You can even get Smothered Hooks in four distinct flavors:  Grecian herb, Cajon spice, Sweet & Sour Crawler, and our latest…Barbeque!  The fish won’t be able to resist!

*****Warning: Not responsible for unsupervised children’s use of hooks – tests have shown older siblings to have a keen propensity to stick Smothered Hooks in with the bags of regular snacks as a joke.  Please keep in mind that every dollar of profit at DodoEggs.com immediately goes into a Swiss Bank account and our passports are always handy…we’re just saying.*****

Smothered Hooks have also taken the great leap into crickets and minnows!  Despise getting the squiggly things on the end of a hook?!  It’s not an issue!  Smothered Hooks freeze dry these delicious creatures to your hooks the same way your grandmother did!  Love the gooey centers?  After the drying process, our technicians at DodoEggs.com carefully fill each with our specially blended “Goo Guts” medley.  It’s a proprietary blend! 

What?  You want to know more about “Goo Guts?”  How’s this…tired of evil fish stealing the bait off your hook then swimming off?  Well, the Goo Guts medley contains a toxic substance that kills the perpetrating fish.  Just wait for them to float to the surface.  Never lose a fish again!

*****Warning: DodoEggs.com is not responsible if anyone ingests fish exposed to Goo Guts.  They will die…we’re not kidding.  This also seems like a good time to mention the passport thing.  The first hint of a lawsuit and we are gone.  You’ll never find us.  Oh yea, the EPA frowns upon Goo Guts being introduced to the food chain so any fish you catch using it must be dumped off at any of the convenient places you drop off old car batteries.*****

DodoEggs.com has done it again!

Drowning in Dumbknuckles

If you listen closely, you’ll find them everywhere.  Wild Dumbknuckles are mingling about forwarding ideas that wouldn’t make sense even if the world was run by Dr. Seuss.  You hear their ideas and you groan.  Their opinions make you lose faith in the human race.  It’s enough to make you wonder how they get dressed and find their way to work.

Please be advised…none of the following Dumbknuckle Exhibits are made up.  Each is true.

Dumbknuckle  Exhibit #1 – In an effort to dumb (I mean drum) up attendance at one of Murfreesboro’s indoor pools, the assistant aquatics coordinator had an idea for a “Goldfish Rush.” 

The event was to release about two hundred small goldfish into the pool and let a mob of children jump in to catch them.  This could only play out two ways: in the first stage no one would catch a gold fish because it is impossible for children to catch fish with their hands.  The second stage begins once the chlorine and other chemicals kill the fish, filling your net would be no problem.

Any volunteers for cleaning the filters?

Dumbknuckle Exhibit #2 – I’m sitting across the table from another lifeguard.  She’s in college and is an active member of her sorority.  She has a problem so she came to me for advice.

“Mr. T, what should I do?  I’m trying to limit the number of calories that I ingest but I also want to drink tonight.  I’m hungry too.  Should I go to my dorm and make supper or should I just save my calories for drinking tonight?  I really can’t do both.”

I look up from my computer.  “You’re asking me if you should skip the nutritious meal because you need the spare calories for alcohol?”  My face twisted a bit.  “Hmmm, while I’m thinking about it…did you know that yours is supposed to be the first generation that will fail to outlive the previous generation.  Anyway, it ultimately doesn’t matter what I say.  You’re drinking tonight aren’t you?”

She flashes a big grin and slowly nods.

Dumbknuckle Exhibit #3- I’m sitting in the guard room immediately after the pool closes.  Guards are getting their things together and talking about the coming summer.  Andre has family in Russia and is talking to me about going back to visit them soon. 

Anne pipes in, “Andre, are you really going back to Russia?  Could I ask you to grab something for me?”

“Sure, I suppose but I don’t really have a lot of room.  It would have to be very small.”

“Oh, it’s small.”  She flashes a smile.  “I need you to bring me back some dirt.  About a Ziploc bag full will be fine.  It’s for my collection.”

I could smell Dumbknuckle in the air.  “Your collection?  Anne, what are you talking about?”

“Well, I collect dirt from everywhere I go.  I’ve got a baby jar full of dirt from about thirty-nine states and three countries.  If I could get some dirt from Russia, that would be really cool.”

Stunned silence holds sway while Andre and I struggle to comprehend.  I’m imagining a shelf loaded with small jars of brown and black soil all marked with masking tape.  Immediately below, Anne is bent over a “Dusty’s Guide to Soil Values – September ’09.”  She’s ing over rare Bohemian mud.

Finally, I chime in, “Yea, and you know where the best dirt in Russia is don’t you?”

Anne and Andre ask the same question at the same time the only difference – confusion on Andre’s face and excitement on Anne’s.  “Where’s the best dirt in Russia?”

“Well, everyone knows the best dirt in Russia is at Chernobyl.”

Precious Metals

I had a friend in college who always seemed to have money but he never worked.  Naturally, I assumed he was suckled at the tit of his parent’s pocket book.  When I asked him about this, he vehemently denied it.  “Sure my parents send me a little something every now and then but it’s nothing really – hardly anything.  They’re old and believe it’s still possible to live on fifty dollars a week.  How do they expect me to get the ladies attention with the same clothes I wore in high school?”

Looking at him again, it was impossible not to notice the suede jacket and name brand “distressed” jeans.  The outfit wasn’t threatening me…we apparently were angling to attract a different type of female …but it was expensive.

“Um, there’s no way you can afford these clothes.  How can you afford to go out each week, date, buy new clothes, and all that without a job?  Are you collecting plastic then running them up to their limits?”

He laughed.  “Nope, do you know where that Arab guys play soccer?  It’s a field about a mile down the road.  A whole bunch of them play on Saturdays and Sundays.”

Was he changing the subject?  “So…” 

“Well, those guys wear their gold jewelry all the time…even when they’re playing soccer!  I just go out there with my metal detector every other week and I usually come back with almost a sandwich bag of gold goodies.  Of course, you need to keep this on the down-low because if you ruin my racket , I’ll hire a hit man to take you out.”


On long road trips, Melissa likes to fill up the car and acquire a cup of expensive, goofy flavored coffee.  I don’t have any love for that stuff – in fact I like to call the place SuckerBucks.  Melissa does more than her share of the driving so I usually don’t complain.

We’re slicing through the drive-through trying our best to make it to the Interstate in quick fashion.  Melissa gets a low-fat, mocha, latte, chocolate, hokey-pokey, grande coffee.  The lady running the window hands over the coffee and with it we received a small circular magnet that has, “Got Beans?” cleverly spelled out above a coffee bean.  

I take the magnet and begin auditioning places in the car to stick it.  The dashboard?  Nope…plastic.  Center council?  Nix…more plastic.  Roof?  Door?  Floor?!  There was no place in the inside of the car to place that magnet.  I really wasn’t sure what to make of it…was I incredulous or just surprised?

“Hey Melissa, do you realize that there is absolutely nothing of metal on the inside of our SUV?  These things are supposed to be ruff, rugged off road machines and the inside is nothing but plastic!  Are you ok with that?”

She gave me a patient look. “Why don’t you turn on the radio?”

Depression’s Big Day

Depression’s evil powers of persuasion have found a roost.  It’s a day on the calendar that is breathed into existence by the long sighs of the public.  All the cheerful platitudes you can conjure will not help you.  It is a simple, white square that sits on the left side of calendars, waiting passively for its inevitable chance to drag you down.  Like the E on your gas tank, it is a certainty. 

The last Monday in January (shiver) has a list of depressive powers that surprise.  Consider…

     1) Football season is over (or almost over) and your team really stunk.

     2) Your New Year’s resolution (I will read more DodoEggs) is already in the tank.

     3) Inside your mailbox is an envelope with your credit card bill and you made Santa’s “Stupid” list.

     4) The shortest day of the year is here.  “Why does 4pm look like 4am?”

     5) Old Man Winter is sitting squarely on your head.   

     6) I told you it was Monday, right?

     7) TV is airing reruns and, wait, no one’s watching anymore.  Never mind.
That’s a pretty overbearing list!  Don’t worry though; at DodoEggs.com we know better than anyone else that misery loves company.  Here are a few days that will make you WISH for the last Monday in January.

February 15th – Valentine’s Day is over and you didn’t get any.  Chocolate that is.

October 21st – Shoot, it’s the anniversary of your great-grandma Ruthie’s death.  You probably didn’t even remember did you?

May 12th – Let’s stop and run the numbers on the National Noose, I mean, er, Debt.  What was my share again?

March 2nd – Remember this date?  It’s when you were expecting to be fluent in Butswipean but instead the CDs and books are still sitting under your bed.

Month of September – It’s Ugliness Awareness Month and you’re about to receive your handwritten invitation to lead the “UGLY AND PROUD” parade through downtown Ekalaka, Montana.

June 31st – This would have been a great day!  …now we’ll never know.

July 5th – Stop and think about what you spent on fireworks.

Flag Day – How are you supposed to enjoy Flag Day without a good sturdy flag pole?!  Dang!  You’ve blown another year!

Really, any day is a good day for depressive thoughts.  In fact, let’s take a time out, breathe, relax, and remember that you aren’t getting any younger.  Heck, come to think about it, in four hundred years who will even know your name?  The guy who mows your cemetery ploy quit reading the stones a long time ago.