Quotes of the day 6/20/09

Quote from 1954:

It's too bad things are so tough nowadays. I see where a few married women are having to work to make ends meet.

Song Lyric of the day:

I've got a mind that can steer me,

To your house,

And a heart that can bring you,

Red flowers,

My intentions are good,

And earnest, and true,

But under my hood,

Is internal combustion power,

Death Sentence of the day:

"In movies like Rambo and Missing in Action the hero always runs head-long into the enemy forces, guns blazing! If you actually did that in a real war... you would be dead in a few minutes"

How to be a Man: Fashion tips from Dr. D

Many a time do I find myself wishing that things were as they once were back in the 50's...

The way people were much more friendly and courteous to one another. Men were Men in their suits and hats and women were unmistakeably women in their dresses and high heel.

I have actually been to the 50's a time or two thanks to a couple of secret government projects and Grover Cleveland's time machine... (but, that's another story).

Anyway, I understand that times have drastically changed in the last couple of decades, but I thought I should take it upon myself to educate the "men" of today on how to dress like a man.

First of all, I don't expect you to wear a three piece suit everywhere like men used to do.

That's ridicules, especially considering the fact that the Earth is gradually getting closer to the sun every year (hate to be the one to break it to you). But for Hogan's sake... at least put on a fucking shirt with some sleeves when you are going into a public building. Its called an "Undershirt" for a reason.

As a matter of fact, lets try to keep the gayness of your shirts in general to a minimum. Plain, one color Polo's are the best selection for a man on the go. Classy yet short sleeves and comfortable. And Geeks... please, lets fucking start a giant bonfire and burn all of those damn button-up shirts with brightly colored pictures of Dragons or Anime characters splayed across them. No girl on Earth thinks a guy in a "Dragonball Z" shirt is Fuckable.

Second... pants.

Jeans are fine. I wear jeans all the time, when I'm working. Khaki's and Cargo's are cool as long as their not Camouflage (unless your hiding in the jungle) and I doubt that you are. But again... for Hogan's sake pull your fucking pants up over your ass. I am going to speak for everyone here and say that I do not want to see your ass, or your fucking boxers. The style of the pants hanging low with the boxers on display comes from PRISON. It means that you belong to someone... as in You are their Bitch! even if your are taking it in the ass from someone higher up on the food chain... I don't want to know about it.

Third... footwear.

Shoe do's.

Keep it simple and Sensible. Boots are great as long as their not knee highs, your not a Pirate, get over it. Sneakers are fine as long as they are classic or at least modest. Multi colored $200 basketball shoes make you look like a fucking clown.

Shoe dont's.

Sandals. only Jesus and the Romans made sandals look cool... you don't.

Flip-Flops. Flip-flops are the gay man's High-Heel. there are only three times it is acceptable to wear flip-flops. 1. your at the beach. 2. you are in a public shower of some sort. 3. you are cruising for some ass loving.

Finally... hygiene.

Be a fucking man. Either shave your face or let it grow into a beard, mustache or goatee... but whatever you do, don't trim it into a pencil-thin douche bag piece of facial artwork. You look like a prick and I don't know how long I can keep from punching you.

Don't shave your chest, legs or arms... it makes you look like a woman. Men are supposed to be hairy. Women aren't. Don't douse yourself in pretty colognes and fruity soaps and shampoos and fancy little powders.

A good general rule to follow is: Don't emulate a woman if your trying to be more of a man.

Please guys... try to maintain some form of dignity out there. You are embarrassing the real men.

Quotes of the day

I will be doing this every day...if anyone cares and if I can remember. Anyway... three quotes a day.

One from History, one random song quote of my chosing (and I wont be giving the song title or artist so you can play a personal game with figuring that out...), and one odd or funny thing that I have personally heard that day.

So enjoy them, or don't.

If you have any suggestions email them to me: drdeathonline@gmail.com

Quote from 1954...

"I never thought I'd see the day all our kitchen appliances would be electric. They are even making electric typewriters now."

Song Lyric of the day...

She packed my bags.. last night... pre-flight.
Zero hour, nine a.m.
And I'm gonna be hiiiiigh... as a kite by then.
I miss the earth so much... I miss my wife.
It's lonely.. out in space.
On such a timeless flight

Death Sentence of the day...

Question: "Do you work here?"

Employee answer: "Sure looks that way, huh." (pointing to company logo on his polyester vest.)

Wrestling on the Moon with Captain Hatred

Wrestling... and the Moon have a lot in common.

A lot of people think that wrestling is FAKE... and a some think that the Moon Landings were FAKE. Many of those people are one and the same. But... I'm here to tell you that Wrestling is as real as the Man on the Moon.

I should know... I have been there several times... to wrestle... and I Am the Man.

Wrestling on the Moon is pretty awesome! When I go flying off the top rope, there is a point there where I'm not quite sure if I'm ever going to start coming back down for my Famed "Atomic Elbow" or if I'm just going to float up into the great blackness of space. You see... We were sent there to do battle with the Weedanites of Ganjara 42.

They were a brutal race of alien with bodies made more of Plant, than Animal. They were twisty and tough and if you cut off one of their many limbs, they would grow them back... not right away though, but fast enough to be a nuisance.

After battling them for quite some time in the near weightlessness of the Cold, cold dark side of the Moon, we were at a major disadvantage. They moved quickly and didn't need to breath oxygen so they weren't bogged down with the weight and awkwardness of a Space Suit. We had to do something to even the odds. We lured them into one of the many Government Moon bases... there we were able to shed our cumbersome Space Suits and fight more easily in our NASA Jumpsuits. We hacked and slashed and generally kicked the shit out of them, but they just kept coming... it was beginning to look like the end for us all. Then... my Tag-Team Partner, Captain Hatred, realized that if they were more plant than man... maybe their one true weakness would be the same as on Earth. . . FIRE.

So we set those mothers ablaze.
And we smoked their asses.

The only thing is that the Smoke from the burning Weedanites had certain Toxic Properties that caused some of the crew as well as the mighty Warriors to go temporarily Insane.

We were cut off from any hope of exit when the Angry Captain Hatred bravely decided to sacrifice himself to save the rest of the crew. He picked up one of the fallen soldiers Flame-Throwers and rushed headlong into the enemy masses... monoxide flames belching from his weapon. The flames were so intense that the entire facility became an inferno and the survivors (including myself) had no choice but to evacuate in an Escape Shuttle.

I glanced at my NASA wristwatch as I banged it upon the bulkhead of the airlock as the Shuttle let loose from the space-dock just in time to escape the explosion. It was 4:20pm... Earth-time.

In the midst of the great battle I could see him through the Plexiglas walls of the Space-station... I lost track of him in the smoke though, his helmet broken and discarded, he was deeply inhaling the toxic fumes.
The fire was too bright, too hot. We couldn't go back.The last thing I saw was a gigantic Green Explosion that engulfed the entire complex.
It was too late.

Anyway... this burnt and weathered picture is all that I was able to salvage and bring back of Captain Hatred.

God rest his Black Heart.

Mustaches: Beware!

I feel a certain need to help out the rest of Humanity, as shitty as they are to one another. In my everyday life I walk around among the normal people, without my mask... so just in case,you feel like being an asshole to someone... stop and think to yourself, "Do I really know who I am fucking with here?" ...just a public announcement.

Now... on the a major threat that I believe should be brought to public attention: Mustaches.

Mustaches have a seedy secret that I will reveal for your own safety. So head my warnings. Every man grows facial hair… its really up to the individual as to what they do with that facial hair.

Men have been cutting and shaving since the stone ages.

Back in ancient times… a full beard was a sign of Manhood. If you didn’t have a nice thick beard, you weren’t fit to walk among the rest of the men. Plain and simple…. The mustache however, didn’t really take off until the Wild West. All the coolest gunslingers and cowpokes had nice fat mustaches.

Then by WWII, the thing to do was to have a nice clean-shaven face.

Few people since then have been able to pull off a mustache with success. But some have… and with enough success that they have made their style of mustache their very own. Freddy Mercury, Tom Selleck and even Hitler.

What most people who haven’t been into space don’t realize is that not all mustaches are made of just plain facial hair… no, no, no, no, no.
You see while I was in space doing various jobs for the U. S. Government… I was introduced to the fact that there are a little know alien race of evil mustaches out there known as “The Mustachios”!

They have been around for thousands of years but they have only been on Earth for the last 100 years or so. They first landed on earth in Mexico back in the early 1800’s and they quickly blended into the Mexican community and laid low for a while.
This is where they get their name… for no one knows what they are truly called. They are an advanced race of Symbioses Alien Life Forms. They cannot exist for very long by themselves, so they attach themselves to a host body to survive.

If you know better, you can tell who has a regular old mustache… and who is carrying around a “Mustachio”! People who are under the control of a “Mustachio” are often way too cocky and come off to normal people as “Assholes”. They are often driven to attention, that is why a lot of them are drawn to the Porn entertainment industry or even worse… Hollywood.

You cannot kill a “Mustachio”… you can only kill the host. But beware… if a host is killed, the “Mustachio” will leap to the next closest male, instantly taking over their brain and making them into a self absorbed, asshole host themselves.

You can however make a "Mustachio" to leave its host under extreme circumstances...

but it causes the host to become a burnt out shell of his former self.

“Mustachios” are reported to have strange abilities and make their hosts do odd things.

Older “Mustachios” are said to “retire” to Carnivals and Bowling alleys… so keep a watchful eye out… and a blade handy.

Mr. T and Dr. D

Mr. T is a cultural phenomenon.
Ask anyone you meet if they know who Mr. T is and I guarantee that they will know.
Mr. T was born Laurence Tureaud; May 21st 1952.

He grew up in the ghetto in Chicago IL. He got a scholarship for football but left college after only a year. He joined the Military and… Mr. T became an M. P. in the Army. After his stint in the Army he tried out for the Green Bay Packers. Then it was on to being a bouncer where he took on the persona of Mr.T because he wanted to make sure people called him “Mister”.
I don’t think there’s anyone in the world that wouldn’t call him mister now.

He started collecting Gold chains, rings and bracelets that were left behind at the club. He stated that he wore them so that if someone came back for their chain, they wouldn’t have to go inside to retrieve it. Most customers didn’t come back, and if they did, they let him keep the Gold… wouldn’t you?

He once said that it took him close to an hour to put all that gold on in the morning and almost three hours cleaning it at night using a Sonic Washer. He said that sometimes he slept in all that gold to “see how my ancestors, who were slaves, felt.”

Then he became A bodyguard to the stars…
His business card read… “Next to God, there is no Greater Protection than I”
He protected such clients as Muhammad Ali, Steve McQueen, Leon Spinks, Joe Frazier, George Forman and Dianna Ross. He charged $3000 a day.

He has been in a shit load of movies… usually as himself. It’s hard to see Mr. T and think that he would be called anything else… accept maybe as the Bad-Ass B. A. Baracus in The A Team... Sucka!

He has had his own TV Specials and his Own Cartoon show.... not to mention his Own Action Figures and Tons of other Toys.He entered Pro Wrestling (as himself) in 1985 as Hulk Hogan’s Tag Team Partner and fought off and on for many years after that.

Since then he has been doing Commercials and public appearances. He gave up his chains for the victims of hurricane Katrina, to which he also donated a great deal of clothes and money donations.

I just felt that he needed to be recognized here on the "monkey" for what a Super-Bad-Ass motherfucker that he is and always has been.

Besides… Mr. T is one of my biggest Fans...

Doctor Death's Photo Album

Here is another old photo of your favorite wrestler in the whole wide world... Doctor Death.
This is when I was married to Julie Strain, model for Heavy Metal Magazine and B Movie Star.
She was a Hand full... if you know what I mean!
But it was like... every night with the Girls and the Blood and the Costumes and the whips and the chains... and its like...
"Damn girl, can't you just let me watch BAYWATCH while you blow me for a change!"
Anyway... you know what they say... "No matter how hot she is, somebody out there is tired of her shit."
So we got divorced.

Seems like it happens to ever greath wrestler now-a-days.

Anyway... she got the mansion and 4 of the 5 automobiles.

That was our Wedding Picture there at the bottom of the page.
There were no Groomsmen but there was seven naked Bridesmaids.
Ahhhhh Memories.

What a Bitch.

Death in Space

There are some nay-sayers out there that don't believe that I have been into space.
You see... there was a time, not too long ago when I was on top of the world. A famous world renowned Wrestler with an Honorary Doctorate from Brown University. The U.S. Government requested that I go along on several very important missions into space due to my incredible skills inside the ring and out.
Me being an Honorable American, I agreed and told Bill (President Clinton) that I would go. Thank God I did... that's all I can really say about those missions. Very Top Secret. The Hubble Telescope, The International Space Station, Wormholes, Interdimentional Space Midgets... Aliens. I really can't talk about it.
Anyway, all this happened a while ago.

Shit happens, things change.
Anyway ... I dug up these old pictures.

That's all they really let me keep, these and My Space Pen.

Here I am getting fitted into My "Launch Suit".

And here is a Publicity Shoot photo of me in my "Spacewalk" Suit that was never officially released. Man is that thing hard to fight in.

Oh... and as for my team and I saving the world from imminent destruction...

Your Welcome.