The bottlecap challenge is trendy and cool on the internet right now. So I’m here to make it not trendy and cool. Because that’s what I do. Here you go. See how hard I trained for this one segment that one viewer called ‘A bunch of dribble’ and ‘a punch of junk’.
Also, Pro Tip: Remember “righty tighty, lefty loosey.” I spent far too much time kicking this lid and not realizing I was simply tightening it.
I can’t tell you how many… ahem… strange phone calls I’ve answered in the past nine years of working in the broadcasting business, but let’s just say it’s been enough to fill a book or two (Hmmmm… maybe soon).
A new station in Scranton, PA has a segment where they air viewer phone calls and after a few tornadoes popping up in the area recently, one viewer claimed to know exactly why.
Steve-O from Jackass stopped by Good Day while Steve-O continues his Bucket List Tour. I could’ve chatted with this guy for hours, but we unfortunately only had about 4 minutes. Incredibly nice man. Check out his tour if you can!
We have more important things to worry about right now: A war.
Not a war with North Korea. A war that rages on every year around this time.
*Lights up a cigarette and slowly takes a drag…*
A war with the Hobo Spiders.
The other night, I’m watching some television and my trusty bloodhound, Georgia, is on the floor when suddenly, she jumps up like she’s just been shocked with a cattle prod and runs across the room, seemingly chasing something.
It freaked me out, but then I see her start to bat at and play with something. What was it?
I walked over there and see she’s playing with a no good, dirty rotten, worthless, creepy crawly, overly aggressive, serving absolutely no function or purpose on this earth other than to give me nightmares, stupid, jerk hobo spider!
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love all living creatures on this beautiful planet with a few exceptions, hobo spiders being one of them.
Other spiders, I’m OK with. I’ve adopted a “you stay away from me and out of sight, then I saw live and let live.”
These hobo spiders, however, they don’t even make an attempt to co-exist! They come in your house, uninvited, and make themselves at home while they look for a mate to make other worthless spiders with.
They’ll even actively seek you out and pick a fight.
In my youth, I would’ve been a little less worried about this, but I have a wife and a new child to protect.
So I laid some traps for these monsters around my house, using things I know hobo spiders like in an effort to bait them into certain death.
For instance, in this trap, I’ve cleverly disguised it at a music venue, featuring the kind of music something that sucks as bad as a hobo spider probably likes:
So far, they’ve avoided this one. Even hobo spiders have better taste in music than my friend Nichole Mischke.
This trap I disguised as a restaurant featuring “Uh-oh Spaghetti-Os Saturdays,” because
who doesn’t like Spaghetti-Os? Hobo spiders apparently. Empty.
I also tried a sports bar featuring the expensive NFL Sunday Ticket from DirecTV.
I might have jumped the gun on this one because obviously the season hasn’t started yet, so the hobos know this one is a fake. I’ll let you know how it does after this Sunday.
But there’s one trap, one establishment that seems to be having success, and it makes sense because hobo spiders are free-loading cheapskates: Free beer.
Look at that! There’s two of them in there! Two of them who walked in and expected to get something for nothing, and instead they got got!
Nicolas didn’t show any remorse when his strategically placed mousetrap caught the wrong person getting into his mailbox.
Nicolas thought either the drug dealers across the street or the woman who runs a house of prostitution was stealing his mail. So he hatched a plan. A bad plan. And now he has to deal with the consequences.
The rest of the tale told through my artistic talents (?) here:
My dad had a couple of parrots. Actually one was a parrot and the other two were cockatoos. All them were little a-holes. They only liked him. Occasionally, one would let me hold them, but it was usually a trap. A trap to bite my face off.
Wild parrots in India are also being little a-holes and apparently spending their days waiting for poppy farmers to open up the pods and then swooping in, gnawing on some pure opium and the retreating to the trees to get wasted all day.
You never catch the dragon. You just keep chasing him and chasing him. He’ll turn around and encourage you to continue chasing him. He’ll even adorably lead you to believe that you almost had him. But you never catch him.
Kick the smack, wild parrots of India! It’s not worth it.
In honor of National Crayon Day (seamless transition, thank you), I decided this story of opium-addicted parrots could only be told through the power of colored wax.
Crayon News is something I came up with a few years ago when I came across this story about a woman who cut off her husband’s dong. Twice. Of course, there was no video, and I couldn’t draw what she cut off and put it on-air, so Crayon News was born. Here’s that story in case you’re interested in things like that.
But this is a choose your own adventure style post. If you want to WATCH the parrot-addicted story be told on Good Day, check on this video:
If you want to scroll through photos yourself, here you go.
Crayon News: Parrots in India high on Opium
By Cory Howard
When I first heard this story, I envisioned parrots strung out on heorin on Sunset Blvd after watching Motley Crue play to a sold-out show at the Roxy Theater. (Motley Crue playing a sold out show live at The Roxy is from another story I have about Harrison Ford and me getting wasted together. I’ll post that at another time. But there were no parrots involved in that one.)
This story didn’t happen in Los Angeles. It actually happened in India.
Wild, dope-craving parrots by the hundreds are sitting high in the trees, waiting for farmers to open up poppy pods (they ripen quicker when you open them). But this leaves them vulnerable for the parrots are now extremely addicted.
When the pods are open, they swoop down, nibble on the free opium and then quickly fly back to the trees. Why?
Because opium will make you incredibly… sleepy (is that the right word?) So they gnaw on opium, rush back to the trees before the high sets in and then… nod off for hours!
This isn’t funny. Are you aware of what happens when you blast off into opiumland and then fall asleep in a tree? No. You not just going to trip out and listen to the Grateful Dead…
Most likely, you’re going to overdose and fall out of the tree! And THAT’s what is happening. Many of these parrots are falling to their death! As you can see from the picture, farmers say the parrots are stealing about 10 percent of their crops. This makes the sun incredibly sad.
Frustrated farmers are trying everything from firecrackers, drums, and throwing stones. But when you’re addicted to smack, even a knock upside the head with a stone isn’t going to deter you. No, the only solution I see is…
A government-funded rehab center specifically for parrots addicted to opium.