Time-Traveling
with Hollywood Hunks 2:
The Uncivil Civil War
with Hollywood Hunks 2:
The Uncivil Civil War
Excellent disguise!
It’s amazing how parting one’s hair on the side and letting the beard grow out
can make somebody look like a completely different person!
It’s amazing how parting one’s hair on the side and letting the beard grow out
can make somebody look like a completely different person!
A notion popped into my head;
and believe it not, at the time,
it seemed perfectly sensible to me.
Since a toaster is wired to heat bread into toast,
I thought reversing the wiring would freeze the bread.
I’m not sure what the appeal of frozen bread would be,
but at the time, the best idea to me was toast-sicles!
So I put two slices of bread into my pocket
while I reversed the wiring of the toaster.
Afterwards, I plopped in a slice of bread,
sure that in moments,
I’d enjoy a freshly frozen slice of toast-flakes.
Snow toast?
In went the bread. On went the switch.
And in just 21.7 seconds,
I was teleported back to the Civil War.
I’d been there before with The Holly Boys.
(See my previous post:
“Time-Traveling with Hollywood Hunks”.)
As expected, as soon as I reappeared,
both sides opened fire on me.
I ducked with an alluring bravado,
not often seen in most duckers.
I said, “Stop shooting! It’s me!”
As expected, both sides replied,
“We know it’s you! That’s why we’re shooting!”
The north was mad at me, because they thought
I was part of the Confederate army;
and the south was mad at me, because
those frisky Holly Boys became overly “friendly”
with General Robert E. Lee’s daughter
Eleanor “Agnes” Lee.
I don’t know why they blame me for that.
The Holly Boys promised me they’d behave
when I brought them back in time.
But then, as you may recall; they altered history;
and Travolta broke my time machine,
so I hadn’t been back to the Civil War since then.
But apparently they’d been back!
Cage, Travolta, and McConaughey
must’ve pooled their money
and won a time machine on eBay.
Because there they were!
Up to their messing-with-time,
rewriting-history shenanigans again.
This time they brought along
Christian Bale and Eddie Murphy.
I saw Christian Bale and said,
“You’re awesome as Batman, but Abed’s better.”
He clearly looked disappointed.
He retaliated by accusing me
of being a northern spy.
(He knew there was no way I had proper I.D. on me.)
But it was all big misunderstanding.
I didn’t mean to say that.
Not to his face.
I meant to say,
“Dude, how’d you get so skinny for ‘The Machinist’?”
But somehow it came out the other way.
Before the Confederate soldiers took me away,
I said to Eddie Murphy,
“I love you in Pluto Nash!”
Photo Source: http://www.uproxx.com/webculture/2011/10/this-time-traveling-celebrity-vampires-thing-is-getting-out-of-hand/
That came out just the way I wanted it to,
but he didn’t believe me.
He thought I was just trying to suck up.
Especially since that film bombed at the box office.
But I loved it.
John Cleese was the voice of the space car.
Cool twist ending. Funny and fun.
What more do people want?
So anyway, I was placed into custody
and was supposed to be shot and hung at dawn.
Or as soon as they could decide which to do first.
Had it not been my execution,
I would’ve explained how hanging gives the shooters
a moving target as the body flails around.
The only suggestion I offered was,
“There’s a new way to execute traitors.
You fill them with chocolate,
until they smile to death, or burst apart.”
Sally Mae, the gal who brought me my last meal,
seemed shy and reserve.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to meet me.
She just made the meals.
Wasn’t her job to serve them to the victims.
But that worked out well for me,
because I turned on my charm.
Well, technically, I never turn it off.
I’ve tried; but I can’t!
The charm always shines forth regardless.
My blessing and my curse.
I asked for seconds; and convinced her
she should bring the shackle keys on her return trip.
Something about her looked familiar.
But I figured that had something to do
with the time period.
Sally Mae brought me seconds of homily grits.
I smiled as cordially as a modern man can
while eating nineteenth century grits.
After unlocking my shackles,
she suddenly looked inspired,
slipped something into my pocket,
and bid me farewell.
(I think she gave me a slice of bread
in case I got hungry while fleeing for my life.)
I gave her a farewell kiss on her cheek,
which made her cheek turn red.
Guess I put too much ketchup on my grits.
I ducked into the Holly Boys’ tent and jumped
through the portal of Travolta’s time machine.
Upon returning,
I slipped on a bar of soap and conked my head.
I awakened in the hospital.
The psych team tried to convince me
the whole experience had been a dream.
But then I remembered Sally Mae placed
a slice of bread in my pocket before I fled.
“Where are the clothes I was wearing?
I have proof in my pocket.”
I showed them the slice of bread and said,
“This proves my story’s true.
How else do you explain this slice of bread in my pocket?”
Doctor Armstrong replied,
“You put that in there when you rewired your toaster.”
I gazed at him and the rest of the psych panel,
blinked rapidly several times, and said,
“Well, sure. That’s one explanation.”
I blinked several more times.
I did put that in there when I rewired my toaster.
They didn’t even have sliced bread back then!
Now what?
Was I really crazy this time?
Armstrong continued,
“It was in your pocket next to this ancient document,
which we varied as Carly Rae Jepsen’s handwriting
on parchment over 150 years old that says:
‘Call me maybe.’”
Of course!
Sally Mae was Carly Rae!
And that’s why she looked like someone
who just got a great idea for a song!
(For more about Carly Rae Jepsen,
see my previous post:
“This Is Crazy! A Call Me Maybe Exposé”.)
So I didn’t enjoy frozen breadsicles after all.
But I got to travel back in time and helped inspire
a new friend to write a mega-hit song.
Ask anyone; and I’m sure they’ll agree:
Time-traveling and inspiring mega-hit songs
for stunning starlets beats frozen bread every time.
I can’t wait until Doctor Armstrong
signs my release papers,
so I can hurry home to see if rewiring
the refrigerator will keep my food warm.
While I had fun, like I always do,
I feel bad the Holly Boys
didn’t buy a better time machine.
One that lets time-travelers remember.
In fact, if you ask any of them, even Carly Rae,
or rather, especially Carly Rae,
they’ll deny any of this ever happened.
Even though I have the pictures to prove it!
and believe it not, at the time,
it seemed perfectly sensible to me.
Since a toaster is wired to heat bread into toast,
I thought reversing the wiring would freeze the bread.
I’m not sure what the appeal of frozen bread would be,
but at the time, the best idea to me was toast-sicles!
So I put two slices of bread into my pocket
while I reversed the wiring of the toaster.
Afterwards, I plopped in a slice of bread,
sure that in moments,
I’d enjoy a freshly frozen slice of toast-flakes.
Snow toast?
In went the bread. On went the switch.
And in just 21.7 seconds,
I was teleported back to the Civil War.
I’d been there before with The Holly Boys.
(See my previous post:
“Time-Traveling with Hollywood Hunks”.)
As expected, as soon as I reappeared,
both sides opened fire on me.
I ducked with an alluring bravado,
not often seen in most duckers.
I said, “Stop shooting! It’s me!”
As expected, both sides replied,
“We know it’s you! That’s why we’re shooting!”
The north was mad at me, because they thought
I was part of the Confederate army;
and the south was mad at me, because
those frisky Holly Boys became overly “friendly”
with General Robert E. Lee’s daughter
Eleanor “Agnes” Lee.
I don’t know why they blame me for that.
The Holly Boys promised me they’d behave
when I brought them back in time.
But then, as you may recall; they altered history;
and Travolta broke my time machine,
so I hadn’t been back to the Civil War since then.
But apparently they’d been back!
Cage, Travolta, and McConaughey
must’ve pooled their money
and won a time machine on eBay.
Because there they were!
Up to their messing-with-time,
rewriting-history shenanigans again.
This time they brought along
Christian Bale and Eddie Murphy.
I saw Christian Bale and said,
“You’re awesome as Batman, but Abed’s better.”
He clearly looked disappointed.
He retaliated by accusing me
of being a northern spy.
(He knew there was no way I had proper I.D. on me.)
But it was all big misunderstanding.
I didn’t mean to say that.
Not to his face.
I meant to say,
“Dude, how’d you get so skinny for ‘The Machinist’?”
But somehow it came out the other way.
Before the Confederate soldiers took me away,
I said to Eddie Murphy,
“I love you in Pluto Nash!”
Photo Source: http://www.uproxx.com/webculture/2011/10/this-time-traveling-celebrity-vampires-thing-is-getting-out-of-hand/
That came out just the way I wanted it to,
but he didn’t believe me.
He thought I was just trying to suck up.
Especially since that film bombed at the box office.
But I loved it.
John Cleese was the voice of the space car.
Cool twist ending. Funny and fun.
What more do people want?
So anyway, I was placed into custody
and was supposed to be shot and hung at dawn.
Or as soon as they could decide which to do first.
Had it not been my execution,
I would’ve explained how hanging gives the shooters
a moving target as the body flails around.
The only suggestion I offered was,
“There’s a new way to execute traitors.
You fill them with chocolate,
until they smile to death, or burst apart.”
Sally Mae, the gal who brought me my last meal,
seemed shy and reserve.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to meet me.
She just made the meals.
Wasn’t her job to serve them to the victims.
But that worked out well for me,
because I turned on my charm.
Well, technically, I never turn it off.
I’ve tried; but I can’t!
The charm always shines forth regardless.
My blessing and my curse.
I asked for seconds; and convinced her
she should bring the shackle keys on her return trip.
Something about her looked familiar.
But I figured that had something to do
with the time period.
Sally Mae brought me seconds of homily grits.
I smiled as cordially as a modern man can
while eating nineteenth century grits.
After unlocking my shackles,
she suddenly looked inspired,
slipped something into my pocket,
and bid me farewell.
(I think she gave me a slice of bread
in case I got hungry while fleeing for my life.)
I gave her a farewell kiss on her cheek,
which made her cheek turn red.
Guess I put too much ketchup on my grits.
I ducked into the Holly Boys’ tent and jumped
through the portal of Travolta’s time machine.
Upon returning,
I slipped on a bar of soap and conked my head.
I awakened in the hospital.
The psych team tried to convince me
the whole experience had been a dream.
But then I remembered Sally Mae placed
a slice of bread in my pocket before I fled.
“Where are the clothes I was wearing?
I have proof in my pocket.”
I showed them the slice of bread and said,
“This proves my story’s true.
How else do you explain this slice of bread in my pocket?”
Doctor Armstrong replied,
“You put that in there when you rewired your toaster.”
I gazed at him and the rest of the psych panel,
blinked rapidly several times, and said,
“Well, sure. That’s one explanation.”
I blinked several more times.
I did put that in there when I rewired my toaster.
They didn’t even have sliced bread back then!
Now what?
Was I really crazy this time?
Armstrong continued,
“It was in your pocket next to this ancient document,
which we varied as Carly Rae Jepsen’s handwriting
on parchment over 150 years old that says:
‘Call me maybe.’”
Of course!
Sally Mae was Carly Rae!
And that’s why she looked like someone
who just got a great idea for a song!
(For more about Carly Rae Jepsen,
see my previous post:
“This Is Crazy! A Call Me Maybe Exposé”.)
So I didn’t enjoy frozen breadsicles after all.
But I got to travel back in time and helped inspire
a new friend to write a mega-hit song.
Ask anyone; and I’m sure they’ll agree:
Time-traveling and inspiring mega-hit songs
for stunning starlets beats frozen bread every time.
I can’t wait until Doctor Armstrong
signs my release papers,
so I can hurry home to see if rewiring
the refrigerator will keep my food warm.
While I had fun, like I always do,
I feel bad the Holly Boys
didn’t buy a better time machine.
One that lets time-travelers remember.
In fact, if you ask any of them, even Carly Rae,
or rather, especially Carly Rae,
they’ll deny any of this ever happened.
Even though I have the pictures to prove it!
P.S. Although I have official photographs
to corroborate my story,
the Time-Travel Federation requires that I say:
This is a fictitious work of humor/parody.
Please Note:
The following may contain a word or two that some might be deemed offensive:
Author Unknown:
Those who jump off a Paris bridge are in Seine.
Tim Vine:
I’ve just been on a once-in-a-lifetime holiday.
I’ll tell you what, never again.
Dean Burkey:
My ex-girlfriend used wart removal cream;
and I haven’t seen her since.
Richard Lewis:
We had a depression fair in the back yard.
A major game there was Pin the Blame on the Donkey.
Author Unknown:
There was once a young man who, in his youth,
professed his desire to become a great writer.
When asked to define “great” he said,
“I want to write stuff that the whole world will read,
stuff that people will react to on a truly emotional level,
stuff that will make them scream, cry,
howl in pain and anger!”
He now writes error messages for Microsoft.
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