Category: Funny Business

I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.

Unless you’re a neighbor who I know, Batman, or someone dressed as Batman, I will not answer the door if you come knocking.

You can pound and bang and scream and cry, but it’s no use.

By the time you get to the third knock, I’ll either be safely locked away in my Panic Room or so well hidden you’ll think no one is home.

Whatever it is you need, I can’t help you with.

Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.

And you have the 1999 Tostitos Fiesta Bowl BCS National Championship Game to thank for it.

Before that game, in which Tennessee beat Florida State 23-16 to claim the championship of the 1998 season, I would usually go to the door if there was a knock and never give it a second thought.

Sometimes it was a Girl Scout hawking cookies, or occasionally someone trying to get me to buy aluminum siding. Regardless, the interactions were usually pleasant and brief.

This night was different.

I had the house to myself (except for my miniature dachshund, Otis) and all the supplies I needed to get through the game – a case of Coors Light, a pack of Ruffles potato chips, one can of Easy Cheese American, one can of Planters dry roasted peanuts, and the number of the regional medical center so I could punch it in as I was having my heart attack.

I had just positioned myself on the couch (about 10 minutes before kickoff) when there was a knock on the door.

When I opened it, there were three smiling gentlemen gathered on my porch.

“Good evening! How are you tonight?” one of them asked.

“I’m good. And you?” one of me answered (and asked).

“Outstanding. We’re with Big Box Church and we were hoping we could come in and talk to you for a bit.”

This, of course, was not going to happen. I was about to get my drink on and watch football, but even if I was only planning to sit back and enjoy an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond,” I was not in the mood for a sermon.

“I’m not interested, but thanks,” I said. “The Fiesta Bowl is about to kick-off and I’m gonna watch that tonight.”

Another member of the front porch-squatters smiled broadly.

“Wow,” the broadly smiling one said. “We enjoy football, too.”

Then things got awkward.

“Well,” I said. “If you leave now you can get home in time to watch it.”

Not the most subtle hint, but at this point I was agitated.

“Well, we can talk while we watch,” the broadly smiling one said.

Then – and I kid you not – the dude actually put a foot over the threshold and tried to come into my house.

“Whoa,” I said, blocking is path. “You need to leave.”

At that point I gave the guy a Heisman straight-arm to push him back and slammed the door.

I mean, there’s pushy, and there’s get your face punched pushy.

And from that day forward, I have never answered the door without first checking who it was and making sure they fell into the “approved” category.

Fortunately now we have a front yard which is covered in pea gravel, so the minute someone steps onto our property, there is the sound of shoes-on-pebble.

Charlie, our Sheltie, is the first to hear it and he immediately heads to the back porch.

The two cats retire to the drawers underneath the futon.

Mary retreats to the bedroom, and I drop to the floor and serpentine to the stairs leading up the Panic Room, which is an attic room redesigned as a place to hide from those promoting commerce or religion.

There are some disadvantages, of course. Namely, I haven’t had a Girl Scout cookie in years.

Otherwise, though, it works out quite well.

Even though I no longer drink alcohol or eat Easy Cheese, I can still watch a ballgame in peace, knowing that if someone comes knocking they will be completely ignored.

Unless, as I said, I look out the peephole and see that it’s Batman.

The door is always open for the Dark Knight.

By Scott Adamson
Esteemed Film Critic

“Star Wars: The Last Jedi,” is the latest sequel in the long line of sequels that involve wars that take place among the stars.

At its core it’s a morality play about good, evil and special effects.

Just like the last movie, “Star Wars: The Force Awakens,” this movie stars Daisy Ridley as Rey, who is so poor she can’t afford a last name, and that guy who used to be on the HBO show “Girls” as Kylo Ren, who is like Darth Vader only thinner and with a relatively normal face.

Plus, he also speaks in his own voice, whereas the guy who played Darth Vader in the other movies had his voice dubbed by the man who says, “This Is CNN.”

John Boyega reprises his role as Huck Finn and Oscar Issac returns as Edgar Allan Poe.

Supreme Leader Snoke is portrayed by Caesar from “The Planet of the Apes” trilogy.

Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) is also in the movie but mostly walks around in a robe because he’s retired.

Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) is now more like a CEO or supervisor, but the robots and Bigfoot, which have been part of all 16 movies, are still the same and make fun noises for the kids to enjoy.

Bigfoot sounds like an elephant with a sinus infection.

Anyway, you’ll remember from the last movie that Rey was coming to grips with “The Force,” which is like a religion that allows you elevate things.

(It would be similar to going to a Joel Osteen show and seeing him float the collection plate across every aisle).

In this thrilling installment, spaceships fly through space and people play with laser guns and light sabers. There are plenty of well-choreographed fight scenes as well, which involve the kind of extraneous jumping and twisting not seen since “Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo.”

And while it sounds derivative, it’s important to note that in the early Star Wars movies the Rebel Alliance fought the Galactic Empire and in the modern sequels, the First Order fights the Resistance.

The only similarities, other than the fact the Galactic Empire is just like the First Order and the Rebel Alliance is identical to the Resistance, is that the Stormtroopers are still the bad guys.

It’s never addressed in the movie, but I’m assuming when the Galactic Empire folded its first order of business was to sell the Stormtroopers to the First Order.

Is this movie “Citizen Kane?”

No.

“Citizen Kane” was made in 1941 and just about every star who was in it is now dead.

But if you want to spend three hours at the theater enjoying escapist entertainment, then see “Star Wars: The Last Jedi.”

Or “Justice League.”

Or “Thor: Ragnarok.”

Or “Ferdinand.”

Or “Coco.”

Remember Jim Bakker?

He’s the con man (aka TV evangelist) who used to run the PTL Club, which was funded in large part by gullible people who felt the need to send Jim their money so he could spread whatever people like him spread.

There was a sex scandal (isn’t there always?) that knocked him off his perch, and ultimately he went to prison for embezzlement. Seems his luxury hotel and theme park in Charlotte – Heritage USA – was simply a way for Jim to help Jim, so he bilked cult members (I’m sorry … I meant followers) out of a whole lot of Benjamins.

Anyway, he was indicted in 1988 on eight counts of mail fraud, 15 counts of wire fraud and one count of conspiracy, and convicted of them all. Bakker was sentenced to 45 years in prison but wound up serving only five.

And you know what that means.

He’s back!

Yep, much like major league baseball managers who get fired and then re-hired, TV evangelists never truly go away until they croak.

And now ol’ Jim is once again broadcasting “live from the Ozark Mountains.” This time, though, his shtick is doomsday prophecy.

At PTL he was a prosperity gospel pioneer. And darn it, he was almost elfin –­ talking really, really nice to his TV audience in hopes they’d sacrifice buying food for their child that week in order to send the Lord some cash. But since the Lord has no checking account, Jim was glad to handle His finances.

These days, though, it’s all doom and gloom, and his guests include an all-star lineup of the nuckin’ futz. It’s like what would happen if Alex Jones ran a church.

The bottom line message is that the end times are at hand, and soon the world will be engulfed in flames while giant CGI creatures turn earth into an unimaginable hellscape. Jim is now bearded and fully gray, so when he bears the horrible news, he looks serious doing so.

But hey, you still gotta eat, right?

And Jim’s still gotta have your money.

So before it’s all consumed by demons and monsters, you need to stock up on supplies.

And, oh, what wonderful supplies Jim has for you!

The best are his Emergency Food Buckets, which are guaranteed to have a shelf life of 25 years.

One deliciously good deal is the $175 deluxe bucket that features a total of 374 servings of “savory, tasty food.”

So, while the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Death, Famine, War and Conquest) battle it out with the Four Horsemen of Notre Dame (Harry Stuhldreher, Don Miller, Jim Crowley, and Elmer Layden), you’ll be eating like kings and queens.

This is assuming, of course, that kings and queens enjoy shit you have to rehydrate to eat, but who knows? Maybe they do.

(Perhaps we had it all wrong and what Marie Antoinette actually said was, “Let them eat MREs.”)

There’s also a 30-day “Fiesta Bucket” for the low, end-of-days price of $100.

This is for those of us who want to spend our last days enjoying Mexican food. And let’s be honest – when that giant sea  creature comes on the land and starts wreaking havoc, there ain’t gonna be no Taco Bells open.

But really, these are all just quick fixes that won’t be nearly enough to see you through the tribulation.

Nope.

If you’re in the end times for the long haul, I suggest you go with the $3,700 “Time of Trouble Tasty Pantry Deluxe” plan.

This features 10,472 servings (that’s seven years of food, according to Brother Jim) and it’s a $10,995 value.

But wait!

There’s more!

If you act now, you’ll also receive the “Birthday Gift To Baby Jesus Shocking Prophecies” DVD as well as 12 Christmas ornaments.

So while you’re eating powdered eggs and a substance that has a faint bacon taste, you can scare the crap out of the kiddies by watching sin porn – and decorating the tree.

By the way, the 12 free ornaments are “randomly chosen” so there’s no way of knowing what you’ll wind up with. But for nearly four grand, there by God better be an angel tree topper in there somewhere.

Now in fairness to Jim, he wants to do more than just feed you.

His store also features fuel, generators, tools, medical supplies – pretty much everything you’ll need to fight off the hounds of hell. And you can do it on a full stomach thanks to these mighty fine food buckets.

However, you need to act fast.

Jim is pretty sure the world is going to end in his lifetime.

And I’m pretty sure he needs you to help pay for his new swimming pool before it does.