This part of my site is full of Jessieism. That is the name for my humor. Sit back, grab a Mt. Dew, pop in the White Album, and read on.
Pillow Fight
On 8 September 1964 going from Montreal to Jacksonville, Florida the Beatles were on a plane again. Ringo, who was normally ill-at-ease on planes, relaxed and threw a cushion at someone. Immediately a pillow fight ensued with all the first-class pillows winging through the air. Suddenly a voice came over the intercom, "You're behaving like a bunch of children. This plane is in danger of crashing unless you sit quietly. It is vital that you fasten your seat belts..." Everyone froze, then returned to their seats and quietly fastened themselves in. Then Paul McCartney appeared, returning to his seat, a huge grin on his face at pulling one over his mates.
Christmas in February
Mike Nesmith: We'll be back next week with more riotous fun laughter and hilarious bits of antics and humor...
Peter Tork: Hey, Mike? Can I say something?
Mike: Yeah, okay go ahead.
Peter: I just wanted to give all our viewers and listeners, who've been so nice to us, I wanted to give them our Christmas message which is about love and peace.
Mike: Now wait, hold it! You can't... man, com'on, it's the middle of February. You can't give them a Christmas message now.
Peter: Well, why not?
Mike: well....uh....
I Sat Belonely
Written By: John Lennon in the book "In His Own Write" (1964)
I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn't see at all.
I'm looking up and at the sky,
to find such wondrous voice.
Puzzly puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but have no choice.
'Speak up, come forth, you ravel me',
I potty menthol shout.
'I know you hiddy by this tree'.
But still she won't come out.
Such softly signing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.
Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it's might.
'I thought you were a lady',
I giggle, - well I may,
To my suprise the lady,
got up - and flew away.
Salad
As Told By Peter Tork:
We (The Monkees) had just met; we didn't know each other. We drove into this little
restaurant, not speaking a word. We sat down, two by two in a booth, and ordered.
Micky's and my salad came first. Just stick a fork in the bowl and whatever
comes up goes in the mouth. Davy Jones says, "You pigs! Anyone would
think you were raised in a barn, the way you guys are eatin'." Davy's
salad finally came. He looked up at the waitress and said, "Thank you."
He didn't lift his eyes. I watched him. He took a knife and fork and
cut the salad into one-inch strips, and cut the strips into one-inch squares, and poured
the dressing on and tossed it until each and every one-inch square of lettuce was
thoroughly soaked with blue cheese dressing. He politely put down his knife and
fork. He then grabbed a handful of salad and smashed it in his face. Well, I
broke up. We laughed and laughed. He looked up finally, with blue cheese
dressing and squares of lettuce hanging off his face. He looked up at us. I
think he was abashed. He was flexing his muscles trying to see who we were and we
just completely collapsed. He thought, "Maybe I've come on a little strong
here. I need to make it right." He's an expert at that, boy. He's a
very funny man.
There's nothing like smashing a couple of eggs over a friend's head and then some flour and a bit of rice pudding, you know. Food fights are great in the right place. Every time Micky has a meal, he has a food fight. ~Davy Jones
Davy's 'Killer' Game
We had all these little games that we used to play, and one of them was called Killer.
You had three lives. You'd call "Hey Micky!" and Micky would look
and you'd go, "Bang!" Then he would have to fall and do a spectacular
death, over chairs, whatever it may be. We'd just arrived in Australia and we were
walking down the steps of the plane. I made sure I got down to the bottom real
quick, first. Micky's at the top and I said, "Micky" and he went,
"Oh, no..." I said, "Bang!" He does this spectacular fall
all the way down the steps and the fans are going, "Oh, poor Micky."
House
Interviewer: Mike, this afternoon we had lunch and you said the one thing you
really wanted was a house. And I wanna know, why is it so important to you to have
your own house?
Mike Nesmith: *laughter* Why would I want a house?
Interviewer: Yeah, why?
Mike: Why do like that shirt, Bob? Why do you want a house? To keep the wind off me. *laughter* It's unbelievable! Why would I want a house? Well, when it rains you get wet if you live in a parking lot.
Mike: Hey, I've got to tell you about a very freaky idea that a local gang of guys is sorta propagating now. And that is digging things that are ugly. You know? The Hearts and Flowers, that's a group, say that in order to dig things that are pretty, it takes no special talent. What it really takes a talent to do is to dig something ugly.
Interviewer: Like what?
Mike: I don't know. You dig something like a garage door. I mean, how many people say, "Oh! Look at that garage door!"?
Interviewer: Does it apply to people to?
Mike: Well it applies to you, Bob. I think we oughta go on a national Monkee love something ugly this week... "You are not, I'm uglier than you!"
Davy: You are not, I'm the ugliest!
Mike: I'm the ugliest! It's me it's me it's me!
Micky: Alright, I lose. *laughter*
