A VERY DISAPOINTING EASTER BASKET

        Good morning and Happy Easter everybody. I am usually overflowing with gratitude and happiness Easter mornings but this year, I am more than a little disappointed and upset. For 51 years, I have always loved waking up to see what goodies the Easter Bunny brought me in my Easter Basket. This year was a huge disappointment and what he did bring left me cold. More on that later but here is a note he left for me with his lousy "goodies" in my Easter basket this year.

Dear Teddy, 

                        Happy Easter to you and your family! For 51 years now, I have brought you countless Cadbury eggs, many variations of delicious yellow and pink marshmallow Peeps, Reese's peanut butter eggs, hollow and solid chocolate bunnies, jelly beans, and all kinds of other assorted Easter goodies as per your request. 

                       I  am sorry that what I brought you this year is probably not what you wanted nor expected in your Easter Basket. But I cannot continue to be an enabler and grant your every wish like a spoiled lazy fat kid any longer. You promised me last Easter that if I gave you all your requested goodies, that you would be brassiere free by Easter this year. I realize you did make some half- hearted progress, as you went from a D cup to a C cup, but you promised me your man boobs would be completely gone and your giant hourglass hate handles would be gone as well. You have failed me and most importantly, you have failed yourself.

                       I want you to attain your weight loss goal and so this year I am afraid I am going to have to use some Easter Bunny tough love: So as far as all your goodies you requested, you will not be getting anything sweet or scrumptious. 
          I hope you enjoy this much healthier Easter Basket. I am also hoping with these healthy treats, in combination with your getting at least 30 minutes of bunny hopping daily for your cardio, that next year I will not see you shaped like a hard boiled Easter egg any longer.

                       Love,

                             The Easter Bunny

          Anyway, the reason am so upset and disappointed, is all he left me in my Easter Basket was a carton of egg whites, celery sticks, raisins, various vegetables and a bag of peeled baby carrots with this watery testeless fat-free ranch dressing that tastes like rabbit caca. Zero Goodies. But regardless, once again, Happy Easter everybody. A very slim Easter.

GIVING A "HAND" TO ALL OF YOU MEN WHO MIGHT BE GOING TO SEE 50 SHADES OF GREY THIS WEEKEND

                         I myself am way too much of a perfect gentleman to ever go pay money to see sordid smut like 50 Shades Of Grey: I find movies like this absolutely disgusting and misogynistic, and it is extremely disturbing to me that it grossed over $94 million it its very first weekend.  Much like the hugely successful 9 1/2 Weeks was in 1986, I find it a sad reflection of our society of what has become of our American values over the last 29 years and how little has changed as far as progressive thinking. 
                  But because I am a man of vision and opportunity, I have decided to take full advantage of this movie’s release due to a need: There apparently has been an epidemic of recent reports of certain over-enthusiastic men doing more in the theater than just handling their popcorn while watching this movie.

                  As a result, I have been calling movie theaters all across the nation with this new product I am developing. These could be handed out like 3D glasses before the show to eradicate this nuisance of over- enthusiastic male audience members, (pun fully intended.)

                  But before we have our IPO (as soon as our commodity is completed and rushed into development,)  I wanted to share a picture of this prototype idea I found on the Internet that I think will provide a very valuable service. I have been trying to contact the owner of this image to split our profits 50/50, kind of  like the "Optigrab" in The Jerk, to no avail. If any of you know who came up with this pre-patented stroke (again,  pun fully intended) of genius please give him my number. 

                   While I am waiting for my phone calls back from all the national movie theater chains, I am going to relax and check out my new issue of Playboy and the new 2015 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue.

A VERY DANGEROUS PLANT THAT NEEDS TO BE ILLEGAL IN ALL 50 STATES

                 Here in Colorado, as you well know, they legalized a plant that makes people act silly and giggle. Whatever, nevermind, none of my biz. But there is a plant that is legal in all 50 states imported directly from Mexico, that is much more dangerous: Its use can wreck the lives of many decent and law abiding Americans and the pain, hurt, and heartache it causes could even quite possibly ruin live-in relationships and destroy marriages: It looks good, smells good and tastes good but the consequences of ingesting this plant can be more devastating than Eve's Apple. I made the mistake of giving into temptation and indulging in this plant, and as a result, I have been in absolute agony all morning long.
                I do not want to be crass or crude by describing in vivid details but I will try to give you an idea: If you saw the movie "ALIEN", the most memorable scene was when that dude ingested some food that disagreed with him, and the result was a gruesome birth of a creature that violently eviscerated and emerged from the guy's stomach by shredding and tearing through his torso. And if you also remember, prior to that birth, when the crew did an autopsy on the dead alien creature and cut one of its digits, the result was that its blood was a horrifically corrosive acid that burned through four platforms of steel on the Spaceship. 
            I won't say anymore and you can use your imagination, but let's just say that the delicious and enticing plant I indulged in my dinner last night had me screaming in complete and total agony this morning. I am grateful I am a solitary single bachelor.
                We need to STOP the cultivation, importation, and selling of Jalapeno Peppers!!! Vote YES on this bill I am writing right now as we speak, and I approved this message.

DO NOT BUY THIS NEW SUGARLESS GUM!!! IT IS A TOTAL RIP OFF!!!

                       I am really getting angry at some of these new lousy products that are flooding our marketplace, especially some of these new sundries that major corporations like 7-11 are selling in our country, only to have the products be over-priced and absolute rip-offs!!!
                 I was at 7-11, and I thought I would buy this new sugarless gum I saw that looked pretty cool from the package: I love the USC Trojans, and the movies Gladiator and Spartacus, so I thought I would give it a try. It says clearly on the box that it gives great pleasure and I thought with the "twisted sensations" thing, that it would have multi-flavors, kind of like Bubblicious does. It was outrageously expensive, almost $5.00 for 3 pieces of gum. I tore open the package, and the gum was absolutely COVERED with that fine white powdered Splenda or Sweet -N-Low, similar to the powdered sugar you used to see all over on those rectangular pink pieces of  bubble gum in a package of baseball cards. Then I stuck the gum in my mouth, and it tasted absolutely terrible!! No sweetness or flavor at all, just a rubbery talcum powder-like taste. I was patient, thinking it might be one of those kinds of gum similar to a Wonka's Everlasting Gobstopper jawbreaker, where the flavors come in delicious waves. I literally chewed it for a half an hour and it tasted exactly the same as it did when I first put it in my mouth, so I finally spit it out.
                  Anyway, If anybody else is curious about this new sugarless gum, DO NOT BUY IT...It is the worst chewing gum I have ever bought in my life. All you will have is a sore jaw and a ton of disappointment.

CONFESSIONS OF MS. PAC MAN'S FORMER LOVER

            With the age of TMZ, The View, Dr. Phil, and other public airings of dirty laundry, I need to Tide myself completely over here, and should have confessed this when Maury Povich was doing A Current Affair in the 1980's....I feel guilty as I haven't been completely honest with all of you, and it is time I come clean as confession is good for the soul, especially publicly for all to read.             
          I have led a double life by giving you all the impression I have no kids and am "free" when I am actually imprisoned with four kids out of wedlock ....All four were conceived from an adulterous relationship that began one passionate night long ago, when Mr. Pac Man was away on business....Ms. Pac Man and I had way too much to drink, and I gobbled up way too many rows of those dots that were in fact, some sort of tiny of tiny pre-Cialus/Viagra pills, and the result was unplanned passion and unplanned quadruplets. I am STILL disgruntled because Ms. Pac Man PROMISED me I had "nothing to worry about" as she told me she had her circuits tied: A lie every unplanned father regrets believing and has to pay for for 18 years: To this day, I still have to send my child support in quarters and tokens every month.
            But the MAIN confession I have, because these short circuited kids were not mine of my own accord, I often was short-tempered and short-circuited myself, and was often unplugged from them as a father. Most shameful of all was that I often cursed, yelled, and yes, I shamefully hit Ms. Pacman when I failed at playing her game out of frustration in front of the kids.
         I have been haunted by this guilt for years but I feel SOO much cleaner now that this dirty laundry is now public.....I just wanted come clean and say I love you to my four beautiful kids Blinky, Inky, Pinky and Clyde!!!!!!!

2014 copyrighted:  all rights reserved and are the sole property of Teddy Vardell and Ms Pac Man...Any gobbling of this blog is strictly prohibited

YOU HAVE TO BE A GLADIATOR TO BE A COLLEGE OR PRO FOOTBALL FAN IN COLORADO

             College football is officially here, and so I am in complete battle mode right now, and have put on my gladiator helmet that will remain on until 12:01 am tomorrow night....I am known all over Boulder and the University of Colorado, as Tailgatin' Teddy...But tonight, I am known and feared as the legendary Gladiator they call Theodorus Maximus. I will be riding south to conquer Mile High Colosseum and watch the battle of the Colorado Buffaloes and the Colorado State Rams.  A lot of people probably are saying or muttering to themselves, "you aren't a football player, why do YOU have to get ready for battle? You are just a FAN" ..This makes me so angry I am wielding my sword with a short loin cloth right this second!!! 

          First of all, in Colorado, they hurry to legalize marijuana yet do absolutely NOTHING about their 1959 "freeway" system, which is STILL a two-lane horse trail on 1-25 and Highway 36 that is constantly under constant repair, so they are all, in reality, one lane horse trails. I might add that it literally took me 4 hours last year to get to the game from a city only 55 miles away.....oh, and by the way I am SOOOO glad they legalized marijuana!!! What a great idea!!!! I know now, that I-25 will be completed sometime around 2098 instead of 2023 or so. I actually recommended to my congressman  that Colorado's first priority should be to legalize powerful uncut 100 percent pure Mexican or Hell's Angel's  manufactured methamphetamine, not pot, as that might REALLY help speed up the road crew's asses and get this damn road work completed: With a little deathamphetamine in their noses, they would work around the clock like an ant colony with no breaks and no lunch, and we would see some busy shovels indeed, and get the construction done in a week and a half or so instead of the next oncoming ice age. So, I need to battle all those "cone-stoned zone" folks in orange...and I don't give a damn about signs that say doubled fines or work zones, I am going 75 MPH the entire time  regardless. If I hit some workers along the way, they can get their hard hats and "SLOW DOWN"  signs out of the grill of my car at the stadium. 

            Secondly, to get into the stadium is like entering a state prison...Last year, they had, (and this is familiar to all of you that have to endure flying out of DIA,) 20 stadium entry ways but yet only TWO open with ONE wind breaker wearing wand-waver who makes you empty out every pocket and every body orifice you have...Each line had about 20,000 people trying to get in, with each fan one by one  having to raise their arms to be frisked....I was pissed because the TSA employee that frisked me last year was this HUGE fat guy with sweaty BO and Funyun breath, and he was a little frisky indeed with his wand...He buzzed me all over my body for so long, for a minute or so there, I thought he was going to give me a full cavity search with his kielbasa sized fingers.... So I have to battle these over eager TSA people. 

              Now we get to the real reason I have to be a Gladiator: I have to slay a lot of the fans. Alcohol is usually the reason why, as there are always a bunch of drunk idiots in the stands, and I get tired of these beer swilling idiots more interested in beer and getting up to pee,  than in the damn game.  I have decided to let them pass one time the entire game and that is it...They will have to go around to the other side after that....There is ALWAYS a drunk guy/wanna be coach behind my ears that insists on screaming coaching advice the entire game into the void the coach never hears but travels far enough to pierce my ear drums and smell his alcohol infused  barley breath. I will kill any one of those fans within 3 sections of me this year...Finally, the thing and group activity that pisses me off most of all, I saved for last: It is when the group of jack-offs in front of me, (with absolutely NOTHING obstructing their views from goal line to goal line) suddenly pop up out of their seats  in unison like jack-off -in -the-boxes,  right in the middle of a big play, as if their standing up is going to change whether they score or not...I have endured this maddening mob of "pop-ups" as my dad coined these idiots for 30 plus years, and any person or persons that stands during the game in front of me is going to immediately get stabbed with my gladiator sword, and I promise they will not stand up again during the game or any other time ever again. 

            In closing, I want to say that I will also be killing the greedy $30.00 parking people and any bastards that try to sell me an $8.00 luke warm sorry, limp-looking Cialus-less weiner in a stale bun that they call a "hot dog" or a $5.00 luke warm flat soft drink with lousy melting shaves of ice in it. 

          This year folks, I am going to enjoy the game...I am carrying my own home popped plastic bag of popcorn, a can of coke, and my sword all clandestinely up my private balloon knot and hopefully get past security. I only hope that I don't run into that same giant behemoth over eager blue flamed TSA employee with BO and bad breath who puts on rubber gloves.

TONY GWYNN: A BELOVED MAN APART

                  I am so sorry to hear of the passing of a San Diego legend in Tony Gwynn. He was my very favorite baseball player in MLB and was certainly my favorite Padre ever to play the game. He played the game with integrity, grace, consistency and enthusiasm and was a true role model. His play, as well as his personality, was why he was one of my heroes. He played every game the same way, regardless if the Padres were in first place, or in last place: With all his heart, and you could always count that trademark Tony Gwynn line drive base hit ever single game. His friendly demeanor and great personality was what set Tony apart from all the others.
                 He was the kind of guy to say "Gosh Darn It" with a little smile, instead of throwing his bat and screaming the F-word,  if he rarely either popped up or struck out. He was always friendly and gracious in his interviews and would engage with his fans with his trademark voice and smile before the games. But what I loved about Tony Gwynn the most, was his lack of ego. A lot of San Diegans probably have similar stories of their brushes with Tony Gwynn out in public that brings a smile to their face, and mine was one I will never forget.
                 I had the very cool experience meeting Tony for the first time myself back in 1994 and got to see how he treats his fans out of uniform and off the field in the general public first hand. LIke Tony, one of my favorite fast food places was Popeye's Fried chicken up on Aero Drive.  I happened to pull up to the Popeye's parking lot just as a nice dark blue BMW eased into the slot next to me. I looked over and saw a guy who smiled at me as if I was an old friend, and I smiled back and after about 2 seconds immediately recognized him and exclaimed to myself, "TONY...BUDDY!" We both got out of the car, and I introduced myself and shook his hand, and we both had a great conversation. 
                All I remember from that pleasant sunny afternoon was his friendly trademark smile, and how he made a complete stranger in me, feel like I was a fellow player in the clubhouse or life long friend. He was so friendly, and he acted like he had all the time in the world to engage with a fan, and it was something I never forgot. He was as friendly to me as his classy interviews we all loved to see in the post game reports. I have met my fair share of ego maniac jerks during my brother's 8 years in the NFL, who made me feel foolish for introducing myself, as some of them  treated me like I was a piece of doggy doo-doo on their shoe. But it always seems that the TRULY great ones, like Barry Sanders and Tony Gwynn, ironically, are the ones with the least amount of ego. 
               Mr. Gwynn was a true example of what is good about sports, and my condolences to all that knew him on a much more personal level as associates or players, and especially to his family...What an amazing man he was and what a class act and ambassador for all of professional sports on and off the diamond. He truly was a diamond in the rough and a true San Diego Son: #19 was a Beloved Man Apart.