VIDEO: Hitler's Nose Seen Flying Over Germany

AIIEIE! Achtung! Das ist SUPERAFFENNASE! (which means, "Super Monkey Nose," which Da-da just coined)

This just in... Hitler's nose has returned from whatever interdimensional nasal nether region it's been nosing around, and is flying pell-mell over Germany! Ach, der Nieser! Authorities have no idea what the nose smells like, but the bad german puns are sending them into a Project Paperclip pretzel.

Achtung! Nase Party! Achoo!

DOES THIS MEAN THE RISE OF A NEW NEO-NASE PARTY?? (Um, "nase" is german for "nose," just in case you thought Da-da misspelled Nazi.)

The neo-nase party notwithstanding, Hitler's mustache is STILL AT LARGE and is considered extremely dangerous, at least as a fashion accessory, or perhaps as an entreaty into RAMPANT CAPITALIZATION.

Da-da's Gothic Children's Bookshelf for the Haunted Parent

Bronco & Nagurski LOVE flaming spider stories. Das ist Superaffengeil.

Ahhhh, Da-da's Home Again...

...after a long road trip, and Da-da's house looks... well, KRASS GEIL. (Man, that German nihilist housesitting/rug recovery unit really spruced the place up.) Can't wait for the bank appraiser to come by.

Da-da ID'd by French Nationals (UPDATED)

The culprit.

This is fun. Da-da's reporting live from the field, currently at some obscure, old hotel where movie stars used to hang out (hey, the rooms were cheap), a waypoint on a longer roadtrip. Forced out of the room at 6:30 am by the earlybird piranha brothers, Da-da was recently sitting in the lobby of the hotel, hiding from his fate of loading the car and wrangling spent nuclear monkey material into the Jeep, when two 20-something French nationals, wearing matching Abercrombie and Fitch gear, suddenly stopped before Da-da where he sat, and stared at him.

"Excuse me, please. Are you a... hippie?"

Ok, Da-da was indeed wearing his loud green Grateful Dead Celtic tie-dye (sorry Dead fans, Da-da's never heard anything the Dead has done, he just liked the shirt), but his hair is short and his beard... well, moderately trimmed, and he's wearing a highly distressed San Francisco Giants cap. He looks absolutely nothing like a hippie. But, while Da-da would normally have come up with a sharp zinger comment, he got no sleep last night, and was frankly puzzled by the fact that there were TWO such matching French Abercrombie couples in Da-da's hotel, so... in this confusion vortex, all Da-da could answer was (if you'll pardon the first-person):

"Yes. I am a hippy."

The French couple was thrilled and immediately asked if they could have their pictures taken with Da-da. He conceded and the front desk clerk immortalized the moment, the French couple giggling after Da-da answered their query about his name, deadpan: "They call me, Da-da."

Da-da is now inextricably intertwined in the memories of at least two French people and their immediate families as Da-da, the Hippy. Da-da can't make this stuff up, folks.

UPDATE: Later in the trip, another hotel, another tie-dye shirt... while riding up in an elevator, Da-da overheard a German tween whisper to his father and younger sister, in German, entre eux, nodding toward Da-da: "Du siehst? Ein Hippie." Da-da sighed and just looked at the kid, who looked a little pale at that point (maybe hippies are the equivalent of some Nietzschean Superzombie in Europe). Da-da can understand a handful of languages very well, German being one of his best. The elevator doors opened and Da-da stepped out, saying, "Das ist krass geil." The tween's jaw dropped and that was that, hippienessity notwithstanding.

Words That Make Little Kids Laugh

Since there's nothing that can match the sound of little kids laughing like mental patients (hey, Da-da does it), here's this. Mix any of the following words with the below sub-list and watch what happens.

1. UNDERPANTS (or PANTS)
2. BUTT
3. POOP

The above three (i've omitted BOOGER and some of the more nefarious words) usually draw a cheap snicker, but the real silliness is in combining them with the below sub-list -- or anything nonsensical -- the combination of which sends Small Beings into Paroxysm Land. So, in no certain order:

10. SQUIRREL (e.g., SQUIRREL UNDERPANTS)
9. RUTABAGA ("RUTABAGA TRANSPORT" is also good, esp. as a Midwest band name)
8. SUCCOTASH (say it with great conviction and relax: it's just lima beans and corn)
7. AARDVARK
6. CHICKENHEAD
5. VAMPIREPANTS (no idea why this got a laugh)
4. OOGEY-FLABBER-BINGBALL-BISQUITOON
3. ROBO-anything
2. BAJOOBIE
1. NINCOMPOOP

To reiterate, add BUTT, POOP, PANTS or UNDERPANTS to any of the above, say them with a funny voice, and you've got the makings of a guaranteed knock-out kindergarten graduation speech. Make a song of it and you've gone preschooler platinum. These words can also occasionally STOP tantrums, as Small Brains will LOCK and CENTER on anything ridiculous, if only for a moment. (Kinda like Monty Python's, "Confuse a Cat.")

Of course, the social earthquake word UNDERPANTS (from the German olio of, "UNTER-DAS-PANTS-HEIL" and "SUPERAFFENGEIL") stands alone as the consistent laugh-getter, across all alien 3-6YO demographics. UNDERPANTS are just funny, Giotto. Like Chevy Chase calling out the ghost town bartender, "HEY, UNDERPANTS!" (though note that that was mostly funny because the bartender then mock-blew Chevy away with a double-barrel shotgun). You might as well enjoy this brief tyke apercus of mirth, because by the time they're 8, they'll be wearing all black with black shoe polish around their eyes and then NOTHING'S FUNNY ANYMORE -- except Da-da falling down the stairs, which is always funny. So, strike while the iron's on top of the chicken.

Images courtesy of one of Da-da's favorite sites, Archie McPhee. And the plug's for free, hee hee.

By the way, speaking of subnomenclature chicken, you geeks might enjoy playing with The Torpoleximatic, seen here in it's corruptible mortal state.

Uh oh...

SQUIRREL!

Freud Takes A Tumble

  

This just in...

Freud apparently took a tumble early this morning. The late psychotherapist and father of the scientific method was discovered insensate, supine and half-naked, after what can only be described as, "a prolonged discourse on... well, on SOMETHING SUPERAFFENGEIL." No monkeys could be found to translate, as they were preoccupied, though two small monkey boys have been detained for questioning.

Adding SQUISH to OW (owsquish?), the body was later accidently smooshed beneath an enormous basket of American laundry.

Said the lady of the house, making a small face: "I didn't see him there." She later expressed regret, but also concern at Freud's dishabille. The psychotherapist's couch and drug paraphernalia have been retained by the authorities until next of kin can be contacted. In the meantime, a memorial was held in the master bedroom closet -- and a salmon was named -- though the two events appear to be wholly unrelated.

In a bizarre twist that wasn't actually that bizarre, the salmon -- allegedly The Salmon of Knowledge -- was named, "Sigmund."

No fish were harmed during the ordeal, though Sigmund's days are numbered since he started smoking. The unseen monkeys, on the other hand, continue to be very excited in another room, typing away at yet another Shakespearean sonnet.