PapaSeanski

Photo by Rafa1980

Gone are the days where I could get a crude oil massage at the spa, and sip on sparkling gasoline at cocktail parties. The Iraq War has gone on for too long, taking valuable media time away from legitimate world issues like Britney Spear’s baby daddy. We can’t expect to find Osama Bin Laden if we can’t locate Britney’s boy toys.

Sure money is being wasted, and people are dying, but what about those who have no voices…like our SUVs. We need to find a quick fix before my Gasoline Java Chip Frappacino with a shot of espresso, topped with whipped cream, gets cold.

We need something better.
We need something bigger.

We need Big Bird.

It makes total sense. Big Bird has his own sponsors, usually some alphabet letter and a random number, so there is no monetary risk. He is even good friends with Snuffleupagus, a big hairy elephant, who will snuff anybody at the drop of a dime. That’s not all, Big Bird has…

Size. Big Bird is…well…pretty damn big. Big Bird would tower over even the tallest insurgent standing on their tippy toes, making him a clear favorite to win any dunk contests that may arise during battle. You may think being a huge mound of feathers would make easy target practice for evil doers that are shooting at our Sesame Street superstar, but his size is deceptively useful. As the great military strategist, Sun Tzu once said,

“All warfare is based on deception”

During Operation Desert Storm, Big Bird was equipped with a blow horn, and tooted his way through the unforgiving Iraqi terrain disguised as a yellow school bus.

In 1980, diplomatic ties between the U.S. and Iran were tested when pro-revolution Iranian students took 52 U.S. diplomats hostage. The U.S. attempted to rescue the hostages, but Operation Eagle Claw was a complete failure. Eagles are cool, but they lacked the focus needed to get the job done. They were too busy filming a music video with Nelly for the song “Get Your Eagle On.” The day before Ronald Reagan was inaugurated into the oval office, Big Bird snuck into Iran as a giant yellow crayon, and retrieved the hostages by drawing an escape door on the wall using crayola colors fuzzy wuzzy brown and neon carrot. True story.

Motor skills. Most 8 foot, 200 lb, birds are slow and clumsy. Not Big Bird. His feet are super quick, with his left leg clocking an impressive 110 hokey pokeys per second. Big Bird also set the standard for disco dancing, choreographing John Travolta’s footwork in Saturday Night Fever. The movie was such a box office hit that the U.S. military adopted his dance routine for possible military applications. Disco dancing is now considered the most efficient way to avoid land mines in enemy territory.

Uncanny dexterity gives Big Bird the rare ability to touch his nose and rub his tummy at the same time, helping him become a two-time belly dancing world champion. His belly dancing prowess was crucial to the success of finding Suddam Hussein in that underground Hookah bar in Baghdad.

Bio blues. Since Big Bird has a person completely enclosed within his feathery frame, scientists believe the excessive contact between human and puppet bird is what caused the avian influenza virus, “Big Bird Flu,” to adapt to humans as viable hosts.

The monkey from Outbreak was a guest on Sesame Street weeks before the documentary was released in theaters nation wide. Big bird carries a picture of Dustin Hoffman in his wallet for handling that situation for him. The Center for Disease Control also confirmed that Big Bird caused the West Nile virus, and the word ‘guestimate’ to become widely used

Celebrity. Big Bird is internationally known, so we have to milk his celebrity till the udders of American imperialism run dry. Immortalized on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame, Big Bird has VIP access to posh dance clubs and exotic resorts that are off limits to military personnel and ordinary civilians. He can infiltrate elite social circles to recruit decorated heroes like Tom Cruise and Bruce Willis. With that kind of star power, we could pound Iraq into submission by dropping 2 ton award-show gift bags from the comfort of a private jet.

Photo by Jennie R.F.

I was wandering around, looking at photos on Flickr until this one caught my attention. It is a picture of a wall just outside a convenience store in Zihuatanejo, Mexico. I have never heard of Zihuatanejo, but I love it already! You have some hairy cowboy with a mustache as wide as his shoulders, squatting on a tree stump in the middle of a field, drinking tequila with a rat. Pure marketing genius. Makes me just want to lick the tequila right off his salty legs.

Look at his wide open legs. This inviting pose is a subliminal message telling potential drunkards to come inside for a drink. People buy things on emotional urges and then justify their purchases with logic afterwards. If his legs were closed I would not have been able to pry open his hairy appendages to make an emotional connection with him.

Not sure where what kind of shorts those are, but they are expensive. And those uneven designer socks — to die for. This cowboy definitely has a great taste for fashion so he must have a great taste for tequila. I trust him.

Throughout history, mustaches been considered to be a facial ornament of wisdom and knowledge. Just by looking at the length of the whiskers on this tequila promotion model, he must be the foremost authority on tequila. Positioning himself as a tequila expert gives him credibility to drunks and skunks.

Note: Part of his mustache looks like it might actually be a shadow of his sombrero, therefore calling his tequila wisdom into question. However, a thorough digital forensic investigation confirms my original statement. There is no shadow. His mustache is actually as wide as his shoulders.

Photo by PocketWiley

Today I woke up hungry for some sugary goodness. So I go to the kitchen only to find out that there is no more cereal. I look in all the cabinets to make sure. All gone.

This is a problem.

How does society expect me to function and contribute meaningfully to the world without my daily dose of Peanut Butter Crunch? How am I supposed to unite the world under the gooey umbrella of peanut butter?

With my life, liberty, and happiness in jeopardy, I quickly get dressed and go to the supermarket for a box or two of peanut butter crunch. I check the whole aisle. There is none. I try another store. None. One store without Peanut Butter Crunch is possible. Two stores without it is a pattern. But three stores without it is an evil Canadian plan.

Sensing that the peanut butter crunch equilibrium of the universe has somehow been disturbed, I run home to put on the cartoon network, a respected news organization. They are broadcasting a town hall meeting where I live, explaining the cereal shortage. View clip below for actual footage.

That’s right. Blame Canada.

The U.S. dollar has been weakening against the Canadian dollar, because we are printing money at a furious rate to fund a war against Middle Eastern evil doers. This allows sneaky Canadians to step in and buy U.S products like Peanut Butter Crunch at a cheaper rate. While we Americans are struggling to pay 4 bucks for a gallon of Peanut Butter Crunch to get to work, the streets of Montreal and Toronto are paved with Peanut Butter Crunch.

“This not just about the falling value of our currency and volatile credit markets” says Wall street analyst Fred Mcgee from Ho Phat Capital. “This is about Canadians crunching on our cereal. That’s why Wall Street calls this the credit crunch.”

All this time the media has fed us propaganda saying Mexico is the enemy. Immigration this. Guest worker that. Forget Mexico. The real enemy is up north. Canada and cereal both start with the letter C, a coincidence to obvious to ignore.

Need more proof? Watch this clip. In 1995, Canada assumed a threatening military posture along the border, waiting for the perfect moment to invade. Thanks to an anonymous tip call to the pentagon, we were able to send double secret agent John Candy to stop the Canadian threat in time. Operation Canadian Bacon was a huge success, defeating the entire Canadian army during the summer with three snow balls and a super soaker gun.

The Canadian threat is resurfacing again, and this time we can’t count on the late John Candy. We must unite. We must have resolve.

We must have our Peanut Butter Crunch!