What Skeet Means

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, Skeet!

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Location: Topeka, Kansas

I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free! My friends call me Dr. Milty von Fünky, my colleagues call me Dr. von Fünkdoctorspock, and my wife also calls me Dr. von Fünkdoctorspock.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Pink & Milt Agree: We Love Stupid Girls!

The mentally disabled have suffered too much for too long, and it’s a crying shame it took this long for a musician to muster the gusto needed to tackle this disease, but Pink’s “Stupid Girls” does just that, and through the power of song she proves to be quite the tackler (and teacher). Not since Band Aid’s “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” and USA for Africa’s “We Are the World” has a song so selflessly shown an artist’s dedication to righting the world’s wrongs.

Pink, shown here with what might be a "Stupid Girl."

The title, of course, refers to the mentally debilitated people in question, and though “stupid” sounds harsh, Pink is simply using irony to show us (the royal “us;” Dr. Milton von Fünkdoctorspock would never condone or partake in such harsh ‘tudes) how inconsiderate we’ve been to these minorities. “I don’t wanna be a stupid girl,” Pink sings, to which I respond, “Amen, Pink. Not with the way Average Joe and Jerky Jane treat the ‘stupid girls.’”

But Pink’s problems cut deeper than mere semantics, as she points out how these folks always wear “teeny-weeny tees.” It disgusts me that these parents give their kids hand-me-down clothes, trying to save a buck while thinking their “special” kids don’t care how they look. Pink is saying, “Hey! They do care. What do you animals think that does to their self-esteem?” You, sirs and madams, disgust Dr. Milton von Fünkdoctorspock.

My disgust is only outdone by Pink’s disgust with the medical community. “Where, oh where, have the smart people gone? … Disease's growing, it's epidemic, I'm scared that there ain't a cure!” I’m scared too, Pink, and I’m also a doctor who cares. I’ll make a few calls and see if I can’t get some PhD friends of mine to start developing a cure.

Where some see a mentally challenged person, Pink sees a challenge, and it's a challenge we can win. Help Pink help stop mental disabilities today.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Why Dr. Milton von Fünkdoctorspock?

Here’s a picture of me so you can put a face to the von Fünkdoctorspock:

Some say I bear a striking resemblance to former President Harry Truman. To that I say I should be so lucky, and in the interest of quashing that disservice to President Truman, here's a picture of Truman holding up the famous "Dewey Defeats Truman" newspaper:

Now here's a picture of me, Dr. Milton von Fünkdoctorspock, posing with a novelty reprint of the same newspaper at my local Mega-Mall:

See? He's much more handsome.

I, Dr. Milton von Fünkdoctorspock, received my PhD in Pop from MAvFI, the Milton Amadeus von Fünkdoctorspock Institute, in the late fifties. Yep, I home schooled myself, and it may not have been accredited, but it sure as heck deserves all the credit for getting von Fünkdoctorspock where he is today (special shout out to 99.9 FM KBOM—they don’t call you the “power jam” for nothing! It’s because you’re powerful! And jammin’.).

Over the course of dedicating my life to pop, I co-wrote the Commodores smash hit “Three Times a Lady” (but didn’t get an album credit for reasons I won’t go into—let’s just say a member of the group whom I will refer to here as L. Richie and I had a nasty and unfortunate falling out that had everything to do with my wanting to make the song a School House Rock nugget called "Three Times Two is Six" ). Yes, friends, for a few short weeks I, Dr. Milton von Fünkdoctorspock, was popular. And oh my was it glorious!

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Welcome to Skeet!

The year is 2003. You, Pop Music Fan, are in your listening quarters bouncing along to Jay-Z’s “Dirt Off Your Shoulder” when you make the following awkward and embarrassing realization:

PMF [mimics brushing off shoulders]: If you feelin’ like a pimp, n*gga, go on brush your shoulders off—wait, wait, WAIT! My OCD is digging this, but it looks weird when I do it. Why am I brushing my shoulders off? Dandruff? I do always get dandruff this time of year, so why the heck did I wear my dark pimpsuit? I give up on you, pop music.

Excuse me, sir. There's something on your shoulder.

Sound familiar? Fret no more, friend, and prepare to kiss your frustrating, un-hip ‘tude adieu. With the help of my program, What Skeet Means, I, Dr. Milton von Fünkdoctorspock, am here to help you translate the foreign language that is pop music lyrics.

Let’s face it, it’s called “pop” because it’s popular, and with so many youngsters, middle-aged-sters and geezer-sters spending so many hours cooped up with the likes of Nellie, Nickelbag, Mariah Carrie and Young Jizzly, it’s a shame to think we’re only getting a catchy hook or a rump shaking beat from it.

Break-dancers, romancers, love makers, heartbreakers: behold! The days of pop music as entertainer are over. Welcome to a new dawn, a red dawn if you will, for we have entered an era of pop music as educator, or as the kids would say, let’s get some brain from this stuff. You may be listening to pop music, but are you hearing it?

And no, Pop Music Fan, skeet is not what you shoot on a cruise. Well, in a roundabout way it is, but let’s save that nugget for another day. [For all you Skeet Shooting Fans hoping to read about your beloved sport here, may I direct you to my skeet shooting site of choice, www.shootingmyexwifesdishware.com. (For you Fans of the Other Skeet Shooting I offer no help, except to say shame on you. Shame. On. You.) (Don’t worry, I didn’t forget you third tier Skeet fans. Here you go: www.skeetulrich.net.)]

Now let’s get bizzly!