Fact of the day: In Brazil, thongs are known as "pants," and pants are known as, "Wait, dude, where's your thong?"
Dear Andy Griffith,
Hey, I was just thinking, maybe you could move the hook for the jail cell keys a couple of feet to the left. You know, like where the prisoners couldn't readily snatch them. I mean, you've had three felons escape this year alone, and it stopped being cute a long time ago. I understand you're running out of story ideas, but this is just ridiculous. If you move the keys and you still feel you have to go the old route, you can always do something like imprison Dhalsim from "Street Fighter II," because at least he would have to use his stretch-arm ability to reach the hook. See now, there's a plot twist that will put Mayberry on the map.
Even Barney Fife is starting to get frustrated. I had lunch with him the other day, and he told me in confidence, "Wah, AAaanndyyy, whaawaaaahuuuuuuu AAA-aa-AAA-aa-AANNDAAAYY, wahhaguuhaheha."
Poor guy thought I was you. Then when the appetizers came, he proceeded to handcuff himself accidentally, lock himself inside a car and then lock that car inside another car, which promptly became engulfed in a fireball. It was actually sort of impressive. Honestly though, he's going to hurt himself one of these days. If it were at all possible to demote the deputy at a two-man police station, I would staunchly advocate such a course of action. Freaking Don Knotts. ... at least he got to stare at Suzanne Somers' moneymakers for eight years on the set of "Three's Company."
Do you believe in the death penalty? I'm not trying to sway you, but just consider the facts: 241 episodes, constant criminal activity and a terrified population of just 1,200 living in Mayberry (I assume this includes both the town proper and outlying areas, based on a topographical survey and interviews with several of Aunt Bee's estranged lovers). I'm not saying your furrowed brow isn't a strong enough deterrent for criminals, but you can't be furrowing your brow everywhere all the time -- for one thing, Opie would start to think you hate him even more than you actually do. Speaking of which, how come you never take him fishin' no more, Pa? You do realize of course that you're setting him up for years of sexual confusion, perpetuated by the unstoppable virility of the Fonz. Poor Ron Howard.
On the other hand, I must congratulate you on your many positive contributions to society. First off, your theme song really helped launch whistling as a valid form of musical expression. Think of all the songs that have come out since that feature whistling, such as "The Stranger" by Billy Joel and of course "99 Problems (Whistle remix)" by Jay-Z, with that unforgettable line "...but whistling ain't one."
In addition, your show's role in The Civil Rights movement was truly inspirational. While you never actually had any African Americans on the program, your decision to broadcast in black and white was clearly symbolic of your egalitarian viewpoint. Way to go!
Ambivalently yours,
Daniel
I have some extra room, so here's a copy of my updated résumé:
Name: Daniel "Time Sheet Abuser" Dooley
Job Sought: Well, I was going to say "Sexy Human Resources Manager," but I can see you've already taken that position ;-)
Work History: Work was invented by the ancient Sumerians, who lived long ago in the region called the "Fertile Crescent." The Crescent eventually lost its mojo, and around the same time the landlocked Pangaea finally split up, but the continents all vowed to remain "good friends," à la Brad and Jennifer. Workers were hence displaced -- it was like "The Land Before Time" but with fewer cheap, phony sequels. Shortly thereafter, labor unions began to spread like smooth peanut butter (for wildfire had not yet been invented). The Industrial Age brought many newfangled contraptions to the United States, but most of all it brought ozone-decaying factory emissions. The ozone layer tried to fight back by deploying Joan Rivers, but she soon jettisoned her cause of environmental awareness in favor of stitching together the individual pores on her emaciated face. The ozone layer shouted, "What have I done?! I've unleashed a monster! Who will save us now?!" Well, that's where I come in, Mr. Employer!!!
...Hmm, this summer is going to be very unproductive.
The moribund Dan can be reached at dooley@cavalierdaily.com. HURRY!
Dan's column is published bi-weekly on Fridays. He can be reached at dooley@cavalierdaily.com.
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