Absurdist, Entertaining, Dumb Comedy

It's an amazingly low budget fantasy, tv show about some british vapid hipsters, two friends with a a love/hate musical relationship who go on magical adventures together, all while being vain and self-centered. As usual the show will be even funnier when stoned. It's called 'The Mighty Boosh' and has no redeeming value whatsoever, except that it's very, very funny.

Do you find the phrase "mother-licker" to be inherently funny?
Are little old ladies hilarious as well?
Do actors playing multiple characters within the same episode, just dressed in various low budget costumes strike you as humorous?
Is the occasional short musical set just what most comedies need?

If you think so too, then I'm sorry to say, you will find The Might Boosh to be very, very, entertaining.

I don't exactly know why, but little old ladies are hilarious, the episode 'Nanageddon' just cracks me up. There's a scene where all these little old ladies are marching along down a street to campy ominous music. The two main characters are dressed up as little old ladies, and are being chased by the crowd of evil little old lady demons. It's wonderful.


the really creepy character of 'Old Greg' is a spectacle that has to be seen to truly understand. To think this clip is funny in any way, you may have to watch it a few times:


it's attached to your rod mutha licka!

like a bottle of pepto bismol vomited

It was when I came back from traveling in Mexico and Cuba that I really noticed how drab and black Seattle was. Before when I would crack jokes about the 'uniform' or the 'black t-shirt brigade' i was just joking, only kidding. Then I saw it. Really, the uniformity, the bland, drabness that allowed everyone to similiarize their look into a lowest common denominator of fashion.
It was hard to tell people apart, people I knew, people I saw all the time, strangers, customers, neighbors, friends, all blurred together. Tight, pinched pale faces drawn into a blank look verging on a scowl. An unfocused gaze, pretending to look outwards but oh so self aware. It's painful to walk down the street next to them.
I really starting appreciating my friends that wore color, my friend my santa cruz ('my mom's from peru' she would explain), another girl from texas (i would say austen, but she developed some sort of texas pride while living in seattle) and another lady from New Orleans.
The bright colors they wore suddenly started standing out more starkly to me as a form of rebellion, not just nonconformity but an active rebellion. Taking back the drab and depressing streets and dressing them up with moving, bobbing, brightly colored beings walking alongside everyone else.
I started taking part as well. Someone gifted me their old coat, they had barely worn it and tired of it already. It was bright blue, neon blue, or as I like to say 'rainbow brite' blue. Over the years I've gone from black hair, to dark purple, and now a bleached out lavendar or pink raggedy-whispy mess.
I march around seattle, as depressed, bitter and angry a I ever have been. But looking like some sort of ray of sunshine. Or something. People comment on the coat constantly. Some get excited. I use it as an excuse to walk out in front of traffic that doesn't stop when I wait at a corner. They have no excuse, I know they saw me.
This blog page may be going over the top. It's an annoyingly in your face color and looks like a bottle pepto bismol threw up all over my browser window.
Yet being annoyed at something so mundane as an ugly color makes me feel better. Not so annoyed at everything else perhaps. who the fuck knows.