Help, Peter Pan (aka Randy Constan)-I’m a Lost Boy!

A couple years ago I did a story on a musician named Randy Constan who is in reality Peter Pan. Hey, if he isn’t the real Peter Pan, he wouldn’t have a website that draws millions of visitors and that helps children in need with donations, and he wouldn’t be a guest on TV talk shows.
Looking at my life as I have, and all the past disasters I’ve experienced, I’ve come to the firm conclusion:
I’M ONE OF THE LOST BOYS. In the Peter Pan story.
I’ve got to be. What kind of person would forget that a female acquaintance had gone to Hawaii for the funeral of her father and then ask her, “How was Hawaii?”
I did that.
On the subject of Hawaii, what kind of person would accidentally set off 500 fire crackers all at once in a small hotel room fifty floors up above the ground in Waikiki? The entire building shook.
I did that.
What kind of person would see a kid dressed in a sheet on Halloween and walk up and playfully feel the kid’s fat midsection, joking around, thinking the kid was a kid, and then be slugged hard in the stomach by the kid, because the kid was in reality a grown woman wearing a sheet-looking dress? A woman who could punch hard.
I did that.
Who would choose to work at a place the police raided (they took away our computers) because the boss turned out to be a crook?
I did that.
I’m a disaster.
Randy, or I mean Peter, are you out there? Take me with you to Never-Never Land. I gotta’ get outta’ here. I’m a catastrophe.
Just because I’m a hulking 260-pound muscle-bound grey-haired man with the body of a Greek God doesn’t mean I’m not a boy.
I never advanced. I never grew up. That’s why I don’t make any money. I’m not clever enough, dishonest enough.
MY WIFE DIDN’T MARRY A MAN. SHE MARRIED A BOY!
I can prove it, Peter. I still watch the Three Stooges.
I still wear dirty underwear if I’m out of clean underwear, though I’ll say I wear my cleanest dirty pair of underwear.
I still hate to fill out taxes (I make my wife do it), pay bills (I ignore creditors because I never answer the phone), do financial planning of any kind, take responsibility of any kind.
What kind of person has contempt for money and those who are good at making it? I do. They’re a bunch of fools. I have nothing but disgust for the world and its scheming, lying, money-grubbing, two-faced, egotistical, un-idealistic, conniving, back-stabbing, con-artist, ruthless, steal-from-their-mother, petty, greedy, two-bit punk politicians and businessmen in their pin-striped suits and carrying their briefcases. The world is the way it is because of them.
Peter, you and I know it.
Peter, I heard you’re engaged to get married.
That doesn’t mean you’re not going back to Never-Never Land, does it?
I’m a boy, Peter (Randy). I’m a lost boy. Could you take me with you to Never-Never Land? I’ll be better off there. The world here will be better off. We can play games and fight the pirates. We can fly around.
C’mon. What-ya-say?
Copyright 2009 by SammonSays.com

I’m talking to this guy and he has a huge Adam’s apple. I can’t help it. I can’t look in his eyes. I have to watch his Adam’s apple, as it bobs up and down.
What’s up with that?
The Adam’s apple is the only part of the body directly tied to the Biblical story of creation. As the story goes, when Eve gave Adam the apple, he choked on a piece of it, and this became his Adam’s apple.
See? There’s a rational scientific explanation for everything.
That’s why men have bigger Adam’s apples than women do.
A doctor will tell you the Adam’s apple regulates the deeper pitch men have to their voices. That’s all it does?
Women have higher-octave voices because their Adams’ apples are smaller. If only there was a body part that caused women to talk less.
But that’s a different matter.
Some of us have big ears, big noses, and big chins. These can be cured by surgical procedures-in the case of the nose, something called a rhinoplasty.
I’ve never known any man who had an obscene Adam’s apple to have it taken care of, like you would a nose. If he did, would he then have a voice like Barbara Streisand?
It’s only conjecture at this point.
I’ll tell you what, though. It’s wrong to have an ugly Adam’s apple.
It’s wrong to blame it on Adam.
How would you like to have a cancer-like growth named after you? According to what you see in the movies, Adam is always a good-looking hunk. Like Michael Parks. Remember him in the show “Then Came Bronson,” about the motorcycle loner who flouted society’s conventions?
Oh! I’m getting off subject.
I’m going to place a sticker on my car that reads, “Unlike skate boarding, it is a crime to have a big, ugly Adam’s apple.”
I was lucky. I was born with a barely discernible Adam’s apple. Does that mean I have feminine characteristics?
I’m a big believer, what with the cost of medicine and doctors these days, in home surgery. In the past, I’ve taken steak knives and carved off offending lumps that I didn’t like, lumps that wouldn’t go away of their own accord… performed without anesthetic.
Why not the Adam’s apple? Hey, if it’s too big… that baby has to go. Simply insert blade, and slice downward for about two inches. Keep a cork handy as a temporary plug.
After all, who in their right mind would want the elegant upward sweep of their regal god-like neck ruined with a bump that makes it look like you partially swallowed a hamster?
The Adam’s apple is the only physiology that readily, involuntarily, moves up and down, except for the eyelids, and the mouth, and the male organ, if you’ve got one.
In fact, if you could synchronize your Adam’s apple to bob up and down in unison with your male organ… you might be able to sell this skill to the television producers of American Idol.
Poor Adam. First he goes gaga for this newly minted chick, who behind his back fools around with a snake. Then, to please her, he takes a bite of forbidden fruit which results in a giant cyst in his throat that looks like a huge, unpopped zit.
Men who have hideous Adam’s apples should wear turtleneck sweaters. Even in the summer.
Copyright 2009 by SammonSays.com

They’re coming. They’re taking over. The economy is the least of your worries.
There is a gigantic swirling vortex in outer space scientists are not aware of, that is funneling alien organisms that will ultimately rob the food chain of its life-giving nutrients, as well as spread impotency among people. Read the rest of this article »

A couple years ago I did a story on a musician named Randy Constan who is in reality Peter Pan. Hey, if he isn’t the real Peter Pan, he wouldn’t have a website that draws millions of visitors and that helps children in need with donations, and he wouldn’t be a guest on TV talk shows.
Looking at my life as I have, and all the past disasters I’ve experienced, I’ve come to the firm conclusion:
I’M ONE OF THE LOST BOYS. In the Peter Pan story.
Read the rest of this article »

A bizarre event I covered as a reporter a few years back was a big-game-hunting convention in Reno, Nevada. Two celebrities were there, former president George Bush (senior), and General Norman Schwarzkopf, commander of Desert Storm.

Held every year, the convention promotes the hunting of exotic game, animals you may never of heard of, because they’re so rare. I’m not necessarily against hunting, the dinner table of the frontier, pioneer American heritage and all that. Read the rest of this article »

You’re a bunch of sickos.

Talk about sick. Look at some of these phobias we have today. I’m not talking about common phobias like Claustrophobia (fear of confined spaces) or Acrophobia (fear of heights). Everybody’s afraid of those.

I’m talking about really strange ones, like Arrhenphobia (fear of men). I dated a girl who had that.

I don’t have any myself. Weird ones, I mean…I wouldn’t call Alfalfaphobia…fear of the late Carl Dean Alfalfa Switzer, the kid with the cowlick on the “Little Rascals.” I just have a touch of it now, mind you. But I wouldn’t call that odd.

What about Celttophobia (fear of Celts)? An ancient tribe of hairy red-headed Micks in bear skins. How many Celts have you run into lately? This is a real phobia. I’m not kidding you. Read the rest of this article »

Two men who habitually engage in the mind poop of using non sequiturs have a discussion. For those of you who seldom read, a non sequitur is a remark, a nonsensical aside, that has no relation to the preceding comments made during a discussion.

I think it’s just a case that fat people have a lower sense of self esteem. Of course, I wouldn’t know personally. Read the rest of this article »

You did this to me!Me! The king of the jungle.

The ultimate muscle-bound stud. Adonis! God’s gift to women.

I’m going extinct!

I hope you women out there with your equal rights are happy. You better enjoy me while you can. The Y chromosome, the fingerprint of maleness, is weakening, being stripped of the genes defending it.

When it goes, men will no longer exist. Read the rest of this article »

Where have all the kid’s TV shows gone? Captain Kangaroo, Howdy Doody, Mister Rogers, Soupy Sales, Sheriff John?Okay. There’s Barney, some guy in a lizard suit. But that’s PBS.

Why don’t kids have kiddie shows anymore? Look at what they’re missing. When we were kids, we grew up with these crazy people.

I volunteer to become the new kiddie show MC, Captain Muppie (Middle Aged, Upwardly Mobile). A show updated to reflect today’s world, today’s values, and the street smarts and intelligence of today’s kids. These modern kids know more about sex than I did when I was twenty years old. Read the rest of this article »

I have been an extra sensory person for several years now, and I believe firmly that a regularly applied program of pressure point or suggestive or downright mental or physical psychosexual stimulation can add years to your youth, darken your gray hair, and erase wrinkle lines.What, then, is “Auto Esoteric Erotic Stimulation?”

The happiness of the inner being is a glow that must be applied. Read the rest of this article »

Schizophrenia is much more than just being a screwed-up psychopathic basket nutcase. There are positive aspects too. What are the pros and cons?

First of all, if you’re schizophrenic, you have paranoid delusions of “persecution.” In other words, you think everybody is out to get you. Let me reassure you if you think this. I can tell you, there really are people out to get you. Your boss probably. And maybe your wife. When you earn money, your wife takes it and spends it, right? Read the rest of this article »

(A client gets a call from Bob Later.)

My name is Later, Bob. Just make it Later.

Okay, Bob.

I said to call me Later.

Okay, Bob.

Call me Later.

Okay. Bob.

I said to call me Later. Read the rest of this article »

My daughter and I have your average father-teenage daughter relationship.

She has total disdain for me.

How did I manage to achieve this lofty distinction? I tried to be fair. That must be it. In other words, weak.

I let my daughter get away with exchanges I wouldn’t have dared say to my own father. So I can be proud of the fact that violence and threats and ugliness and hypocritical double standards are not part of our household, like it was in mine when I was a kid. Read the rest of this article »

It can now be revealed.

They’re taking over the world. They’re living and working among us.

The aliens of the Tranisiuc.

This is no drill. This is the real McCoy. I’m telling the world in the hope we can do something before it’s too late.

I saw this guy at the automatic outside bank teller tearing up his receipt into a hundred pieces. That’s how it started. I was suspicious. So I retrieved some of the pieces.

It was in code. Read the rest of this article »

My wife keeps a diary, and sometimes leaves it open with the last entry in view on the coffee table. I’m a person who wouldn’t want to read another person’s diary, even my wife’s, diaries being personal. But out of a corner of my eye, on the diary page, I saw my name. I couldn’t help reading. Read the rest of this article »

I had to play a joke on the maid at a hotel where I was staying. You know that little paper wrapper they place over the toilet seat, that thin paper band that is supposed to convince you that the facility is clean? You normally take the paper band off and throw it away when you go to use the john. Read the rest of this article »

I’ve mentioned it before. I get a lot of wear out of my clothes.

I’ll wear a pair of slacks until finally I go to work one day and a co-worker says, “Your pants are ripped in the back.”

“They are?” I ask. Read the rest of this article »