Accent Battle! (with Jon & Wassim)

Posted on by J. Burrello

Korean meal leads to an accent battle. Hopefully funny, possibly offensive. Yes, but no.

Featuring Jon Burrello and Wassim

Accents featured: New Zealand, Affable Midwestern Cowboy, Southern Gent/Plantation Owner, Jamaican, Old Timey Illiterate Prospector, Upper Class British, Russian, Indian, Nazi, Bond Villain (?), Vietnamese, Salty American Mechanic, Korean, Cockney, Arab, Jewish New Yorker, French, Italian, Boss Mobster, Weaselly Mobster, Angry Mobster, African (country uncertain), Christopher Walken, Native American, Flamboyant Homosexual, Valley Girl, Jamaican Auctioneer, Deaf, Heavily Medicated Beatle with a Deviated Septum (?), Brazilian, Smeagol/Gollum, Elmo, Bickering Indian Couple

The North Korea

Posted on by J. Burrello

north korea

I am an American but I live in South Korea.

The consensus in South Korea seems to be that Kim Jong Un is just a bloviating idiot who is trying to look strong to his people. By making repeated threats of nuclear war in the UN,Β disconnecting direct hotlines to South Korea, and declaring a state of war along with the promise of total annihilation to the US and South Korea throughout their state-runΒ propaganda machines, North Korea has got many people on edge. Are they serious about war (which would greatly damage if not completely destroy them) or is it all just braggadocio to distract the North Korean people from the fact that they have no food or electricity? Most people think the latter. But there’s a problem with this plan.

The South has held an adamant policy of peace with the North, despite the North’s antagonistic behavior. There have been isolated acts of violence over the years attributed to Pyeongyang. South Korea, despite casualties from said incidents, has not retaliated. For sixty years North Korea has been threatening the South and they’ve kind of just gotten used to their crazy hick neighbor and his closet of guns. Many South Koreans just ignore the North at this point. So here’s the problem: America is not like that. We attack when we think there’s a possibility Saddam Hussein has weapons of mass destruction. And we don’t just attack. We stay in your country and screw it up for years and years. It’s not fun. First we kill your leaders and then your country becomes an anarchy, then a makeshift democracy, then back to a dictatorship (now with better mustcahe!), and then it descends into chaos run by warlords, the military,Β terrorists, and/or corrupt government officials. Obviously North Korea is nothing like the Middle East so that probably won’t happen, but we will kill the leaders. That much is pretty much a given.

Kim Jong Un is young and many have speculated that he does not know how far he can push things. Someone needs to tell him he’s provoking a massive trigger-happy country with a lot of weapons that are much better than his. I don’t care what your politics are. America loves war. I spoke with some Americans who actually want there to be a war with North Korea. And I’m not saying this is something to be proud of. I’m embarrassed my country is so nuts for war. But I do think Kim Jong Un has no idea that America is not South Korea. He’s gotten used to the South’s chill demeanor and dreams for peace and now he’s aiming his rhetoric at the big nervous bully across the street with fists like two freight trains.

My personal theory: maybe North Korea really does want to attack America, but not to win. In this theory North Korea is more like the Duchy of Grand Fenwick from Leonard Wibberley’s “The Mouse that Roared.”

Anyway…I hope I don’t get blowed up anytime soon.

On the Rocks

Posted on by J. Burrello

Roughly 2,000 years after the Tower of Babel Incident.

The sea resembled black mashed potatoes sloppily piled upon an upturned fan by an angry drunkard with his bare hands. It was thick and it was warm and the black sky seemed impossibly close to the rest of the world. It was a dark and angry soup and the littleΒ boat was a tortured oyster cracker growing soggier and soggier.

Across the choppy, black sea advanced a thing. “A thing!” James cried.Β Was thisΒ torrential hell haunted? The crew of twelve began to panic. Much girlish screaming could be heard between deafeningΒ thunder claps.

“Do not be afraid. I am not a thing,” the thing said, “I am Jesus.”Β  And sure enough it was.

“What are you doing out there on the water, Jesus?” called a nervous Judas. “Tell me to come out there if it really is you,” Peter shouted.

Jesus rolled his eyes and waved his hand, beckoning the disciple hither. Peter stepped onto the steps of boiling liquid. The seaΒ greedily gobbled up Peter’s right foot, but fearing Jesus would think him a coward he proceeded with his left. The water lapped up his ankles and then angrily splashed his knees like a low-browed prepubescent ginger in a public pool.

“Oh, you of little faith,” started Jesus.

“It’s cool!” Peter hollered excitedly. He began to jump as if the waters were a discount inflatable bouncy castle rented to entertain the younger kids at a quinceaΓ±era.

TheΒ Messiah opened his eyes. “Wait. What?”

Despite the raging storm the boat was soon emptied of its formerly terrified occupants. They ran, jumped, skipped, and laughed like absurd marionettes. The sea had transmogrified from a menacing nightmare into a quite large and inviting bowl of jello.

“Boingy! Boingy!” jubilantly exlaimed Simon the Zealot.

“Stop that.” Jesus muttered, but they were all having too much fun with this newfound phenomenon to notice Jesus standing alone in the dark distance. The violent waves seemed to be even pushing the two disconnected parties further and further apart. How far away the merry disciples and the boat seemed to be now. Thadeus and Matthew were tossing a giggling Timothy into the air.

It was July 21, 1969.Β Earth time. God woke up. HisΒ Rocky and Bullwinkle alarm clock had yet to go off, but His dream had given Him a jolt. Groggily He folded His arms and blinked while nodding His head, a laΒ I Dream of Jeanie. A Washington Post appeared in His hands. “The Eagle Has Landed—Two Men Walk on the Moon.”

Stop that.

J. Burrello