The Blog of Dabido (the Baka one). Everything in this blog is copyrighted. Copyright 2004, 2005, 2006 by D. Stevenson.

01 August, 2006



31 July, 2006

Superman - Handbag Snatcher [PARTE FOURTEEN]

The much publicised spat between Batman and Superman has some origins that people don't know about. This is actually where it started.

'Bruce,' screamed Clarke. 'You`re not impressing anyone dressing up as a bat and running around in spandex.'

'Come off it Clarke,' replied Bruce. 'You know it turns you on. Check out these moves, I call them the Batusi.'

'Ptttth, the Batusi will never take off.'

'No, no, check it out. It's very sexy, baby. Real seeeexxxyyy.'

'You're an idiot Bruce.' 'Don't call me an idiot! I'm the greatest business mind in the world.' 'You're an idiot with no moral fibre what-so-ever!' 'No moral fibre? You can talk you two bit hand bag snatching herion addict!'

Clarke had enough. He stormed out of the room. Yet, somehow, deep down inside he knew Bruce had been right. It's very difficult to take the high ground when you know you're not that perfect yourself. At this point, Clarke decided to be as perfect as he could be. He returned to the farm to talk to Jor-L.

'Daggnimmity, doodity,' said Jor-L. 'We tried so hard to bring you up right. I was worried for a while. You seemed to have completely lost it, especially with the drugs and all. Yet somehow, you've worked it all out yourself Clarke. I'm daggnimmity proud of you.'

'Thanks, Dad,' replied Clarke. 'From now on, I'll use my powers for good to help people and to fend off evil.'

'Daggdoodity nammit, there's a great evil in the world at the moment. Giant turtles are terrorising Fukuoka, T-Rexes are terrorising Sapporo, and a werecow is running amoke in India!'

'Werecow?' 'I'm over here,' said Bernadette (whose stunt career hadn't taken off at this stage). 'What?' asked Clarke. 'I thought you wanted to know where the cow was,' replied Bernadette. 'No, I was asking about the werecow!' 'I'm here!' 'No, werecow.' 'Here! I'm HERE already!' 'NO! NO! NO! WERECOW! LIKE A WEREWOLF!' 'Where wolf?' 'Yes, like a were wolf!' 'Where?' 'That's right.' 'What's right? Where wolf?' 'Where?' 'I don't know, I thought you knew!' 'I knew what?' 'Where wolf!' 'Where?' 'That's what I asked.' 'What?' 'Where?' 'What?!!' 'What, what? I want to know where.' 'Where what?' 'Where what what?'

'Daggnimmity,' interupted Jor-L. 'You're both drivin' me nuts! Stop it! Listen Clarke, you have to go and build a fotress of solitude. Some place where you can think.' 'Like the toilet.' 'No, not like the toilet! A fortress of solitude. A nice quite place where you can just sit there and think.' 'Like the toilet!' 'NO! Daggnimmmity! Go to the north pole, find a nice quite place, build a huge friggin' fortress from ice that will give you somewhere daggnimity TO THINK!' 'Can I think in the toilet at the fortress?' 'Yes, daggnimiity! Of course you can think in the toilet! Just, the whole purpose of the place is so you don't have to sit in a friggin' toilet to think. You have the entire fortress to do it in.' 'But it does have a toilet, right?' 'Of course it daggnammity has a friggin' toilet. What were you planning on doing? Poopin' on the walruses or something!' 'No, no,' said Clarke. 'Just needed to know it was going to have plumbing and everything ... and somewhere to think!' 'Daggnammit, just pick up the spaceship and fly to the North Pole.' 'Um, my powers are returning, but they haven't completely returned yet. Plus, I'm afraid of what might happen when I go through detox.' 'Okay, pick up the daggnimmity spaceship and carry us to the North Pole. Just don't stop in Canada and drink all their beer. Those Cannucks get mighty upset if people drink all their beer.'

And so it was that Clarke picked up the spaceship and headed for the North pole. Along the way he accidently dropped the spaceship on a Canadian mounty, but no one cared as it was only Duddley Do-right.

A polar bear did try to take a bite out of Clarke, but that Bear landed with a huge smack in the middle of Africa. It left him totally confused and rather hot in that fur coat!

For two weeks Clarke built his fortress of solitude with indoor plumbing and went through detox of the heroin. The hard work helped him to sweat out the drug. His super powers returned at an exponential rate, and he was soon back to full working capacity as the red underwear wearing superhero we've all come to love.

30 July, 2006

Sometimes, you just can't blog about stuff.

I just had a friend from Sydney phone me … and I’d love to blog about what we spoke about … but, it’s one of those things that you can’t because the conversation contained highly personal stuff … and well, you can’t betray peoples confidences and stuff. I’m sure you understand.

But, without going into any detail concerning a lot of things, I will say something, I totally melted this persons mind.

It’s one of those things … you’re talking, and believe me, we’ve known each other for ABSOLUTELY a HUGE amount of time. Then, she suddenly realised something about me … for want of some better words I’ll use these ones. She suddenly realised I was a lot more pure than she thought I was.

THEN, somewhere in the shock [actually, you will have to imagine this conversation with LOTS of shocked silence from the other end of the phone], she started talking about how we’ve previously gotten drunk together … till I pointed out I’d never got drunk before with her … and there was more shocked silence as she realised that we hadn’t. She’d never seen me drunk. OMGoodness. I was even MORE pure than she thought. lol SHE was SHOCKED INTO MORE SILENCE!!!!! OMGoodness!!!!!!

I find it funny, as she’s known me now for ten or more years … she’s one of my closest friends in Sydney, and YET she had this blind spot to me … and I guess, I had this blind spot to her and my other friends knowing about this side of me … which sort of amazed me, as some of my friends always used to tell me I was perfect (in a purity sort of a way). lol I guess it’s not easy to find someone like that, as being pure in that sense of the word is sort of … considered nerdy and frowned upon! lol

One of my best friends ALWAYS used to rave on about my ‘purity’ after I talked him out of cheating on his fiance.

[I know, it sounds like I’m blowing my own trumpet, but I am just using the word ‘pure’ as I can’t think of another word for it … you’d laugh yourself silly I think if you knew the conversation … or go into complete shock over it like my friend did!]

Anyway, my friend said she wished I was in Sydney so she could hit me over the head! ;-) Guess her vote is for me to stop being so pure! lol

Anyway, it’s the sort of thing I can’t blog about with any details. lol

29 July, 2006

Dabidity Fair

With the recent announcement that Daniel Radcliffe (AKA Harry Potter) is going to appear naked on stage in London, I couldn't allow myself to be upstaged.

. . . . * * * *

I know. I know. A lot of you are asking the question, what are you going to do about this, with your big man boobs, your tummy that makes you look like you're pregnant beyond belief ... well, there is only ONE thing I can do ...

. . . . * * * * *
Yes, it is the latest cover for Dabidity Fair. :-)

27 July, 2006

Superman - Handbag Snatcher [PARTE THIRTEEN]

Harold was having a wonderful time. Sure, New York was being terrorised by a huge hairy ape who liked to eat tanks, trains, planes, people, objects … well, almost everything it could get it’s hands on, but Harold could still see the upside.

As a Gremlin, chaos was just a normal part of life. New York was getting colder as it headed towards a bitterly cold winter. However, now he’d found himself a nice warm place to sleep. Harold liked nothing better than to curl up, all toasty like and have sweet dreams.

‘HAROLD!’ screamed Clarke. Harold awoke with a start. ‘Harold,’ continued Clarke. ‘Get out of the monkey poo!’ ‘But, it’s so nice and warm!’ ‘You’re sleeping in our fertaliser! We have to sell it, and I don’t want any gremlin contamination getting into it!’ Harold climbed out of the large monkey pat he’d been sleeping in and slunk off to the showers in a nearby Wayne Industries warehouse. Clarke was slowly regaining his super powers as the kryptonite worked it’s way out of his system. It had only taken a matter of hours to fly from Gotham to New York. Something still faster by plane, but Clarke was getting better … slowly.

Clarkes mobile phone rang. ‘Hello? Oh Bruce, good to hear from you … Yeah, I’ve got the stuff you wanted … Yeah, I’ll be back in a few hours … hmm, two FBI agents you say. One of thme isn’t Fox Dabido is it? That pig was the guy who put the kryptonite in my heroin. Yeah, I’ll take him and his friend out … X-files? No, never heard of the show. Why do you ask? … really? Don’t remember an episode full of monkey poo at all. Okay, see you too Uncle Bruce … um, can you stop blowin me kisses over the phone … no, I don’t like it … I think I’d know if I like dit or not. Look, I’ve got to go, Harold is playing in the product again!’ With that Clarke hung up the phone and went to haul Harold out of the monkey poo again.


‘Oh, Come on turtle,’ said Grasshopper. ‘Just go in the back of the truck. It’s so much easier thna having to hire people to shovel it in.’

Lunther Corp had managed to corner the Tokyo monster poo market, but Wayno Industries had conquered the New York, and to a lesser extent the Gothopolis Hulk poo market. Together, they were making many world deserts capable of growing food for the world. Lunther Corp were busy working on the Sahara crop fields, while Wayno Industries concentrated more on the American deserts and the Gobi desert in China.

‘Come on turtle. I have other monsters to negotiate with.’ The giant turtle screamed, which would have made perfect sense if Grasshopper was capable fo speaking Monster, but alas, he only knew English, Mandarin, Japanese, Korean and twelve different Chinese dialects [mainly from the Southern regions]. For someone who was effectively a lazy sod, his total fascination with all things television related had led him to learn an awful lot of different languages. He had smatterings of French, Italian, and Hindi, and several other languges. Alas, not one of them was monster.

The turtle screamed out again, ‘Clear the area you stupid human. I have to go urgently. I’ll go in your friggin’ truck, but just move else you’ll be engulfed in a tidal wave of …’ It was too late. Grasshopper’s kean martial art moves were not enough to save him from a rapid surf down the Narita Highway in a wave of green. No one knew what that turtle kept eating, but his by products were green and things grew in it very easily. In fact, they often grew twice as large as they should have. No one really cared, as it was all being fed to the poorer third world countries.


The two vampires were hanging upside down in a tree in Sapporo. ‘So,’ said the first one. ‘You seen that new movie, the Da Vampire Code?’ ‘No, what’s it about?’

The conversation might have continued, except a large T-Rex type creature stood on the tree. Being vampires, they were not killed in the slightest. However, they had broken ever bone in their bodies and were squashed rather falt.

As the T-Rex foot moved off them and rumbled into the distance, they both lay there, flat as pancakes. ‘Kill me now!’ ‘With what? I don’t have a stake.’ ‘Even if we did, how wold we lift it?’ ‘A dog is nibbling on my flattened foot. Shoo, shoo doggy. Shoo, or I’ll bite you on the neck.’ ‘You can’t bite a dog, you might turn into a werewolf.’ ‘Don’t be stupid, you only turn into a werewolf if you’re bitten by a wolf on a full moon.’ ‘I thought that was werecows!’ ‘Werecows? Are you nuts? There aren’t any werecows in Sapporo.’ ‘Oh yeah, I forgot, they’re all down in Kobe.’ ‘That’s right. ANd I heard they have flying ones in a place called Smallethorpe in America.’ ‘Flying cows! Pttthhh, you’d believe anything you see on Tee Vee.’ ‘Why are flying cows so hard to believe?’ ‘Oh, come on. Vampires, werewolves, werecows, T-Rex monsters, giant apes in New York, gremlins and yetis on motorcycles, those things exist, but flyin cows! You’re just so gulliable!’ ‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. I have such a vivid imagination!’

And so it was, that four hours later Brad the Unpaler [vampire extraordinaire], was able to reassemble himself inside a dogs stomach, while his friend, Ivan the ‘Not So Nice’, had to wait for a rampant squirrel to nibble on him before any reassembling from flat to vampire was again possible.

26 July, 2006

Superman - Handbag Snatcher [PARTE TWELVE]

‘So Elm Scully,’ said Fox Dabido. ‘Where do you think we stand?’

‘Well, I’m standing on the sidewalk. You’re standing knee deep in monkey poo!’ ‘What? Oh … er… darn it, and these are new shoes too!’

It was true, somehow Dabido had not realised he’d stepped in some poo. Not an easy feat, as it was as large as a house, though of course it was spread out across the street a little.

The FBI agents had been called to investigate weird paranormal phenomena occuring in and around Gothopolis.

‘Okay,’ said Dabido. ‘Other than the monkey poo, where do we stand?’ ‘Well,’ said Elm. ‘We have several eye witnesses that a large ape is terrorising downtown New York.’ ‘What’s that got to do with Gothopolis?’ ‘Well, there are rumous of mob connections here in Gothopolis. It’s been said that a consortium from here has been buying up all the New York ape droppings and delivering them to this warehouse.’ ‘Ptttttth, little chance of that. Where’s the evidence that such a stupid story could be even remotely true?’ ‘It’s crap.’ ‘That’s what I thought.’ No, I mean yYou were just standing in it!!!’ ‘Oh, that! Okay, so there is SOME evidence.’ ‘It’s monkey crap.’ ‘Stop confusing me! Do you believe the story or not?’ ‘ I mean the evidence is monkey crap.’ ‘Oh, okay. I misunderstood.’

As they were speaking, a blue flash raced past, and Dabido’s new Gucci handbag disappeared! ‘Not again!’ screeched Dabdio. ‘That’s the second handbag this week!’ ‘As a man, don’t you think you shoudl give up on the handbag thing?’ asked Elm. ‘Um … I could. But, you know I have a style all my own!’ He gracefully tossed his head to the left and then to the right, exactly the way Farrah Fawcet would have done it in Charlies Angels, provided she was a short fat man with little hair. ‘I bet anything it’s that Clarke kid from that farm!’ ‘What kid? What farm?’ ‘The kid form Krypton!’ ‘Huh?’ ‘The one you used Kryptonite to spike his heroin.’ ‘Nope, doesn’t ring a bell.’ ‘He’s from another planet! How many people have you met from another planet?’ ‘Other than the four this week? Does my cousin Merl count?’

As they were speaking a guy in red and blue spandex with a black web texture landed flat in front of them in the monkey poo. *SPLAT* He quickly got up [well, after a brief swim to the edge] and ran away. ‘Did you see that Dabido?’ ‘Um … are we talking about that spiderguy who just ran away?’ ‘Yes! That’s what I’m talking about.’ Dabido breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Oh goooooood, I’m not having those spider halucinations again. They’re almost as bad as the snake ones!’ ‘Anyway, shouldn’t we investigate?’ ‘Why? We’re paranormal investigators. We don’t go around investigating weird guys who dress in skin tight costumes and bungy jump into monkey poo.’ ‘Yes, we do. What about that guy we investigated last week?’ ‘Oh, that was completely different. That was a guy who dressed as a latex scorpion and dived into cow manure. That’s nothing like this.’

As they were speaking a large truck labeled, ‘Wayne Industries - Simian Fertaliser Division’ rolled past. ‘Dabido, our first major clue!’ Dabido raced over to the monkey poo and started looking through it. ‘Where? Where? Did the spiderguy lose his rolex in the fall?’ ‘Ewwwww! No, I mean the truck that just drive past!’ ‘Oh! Um … you don’t mind if we go back to the hotel. I think I need to have a shower.’

With that, Fox and Elm returned to the Hotel Unko so that Dabido could have a nice shower and freshen up.

25 July, 2006

Superman - Handbag Snatcher [PARTE ELEVEN]

Grasshopper was sitting at the front of the plane in first class as it came in to land for a stop over at Narita airport. The plane made a nice three point landing without any bounce. As it was slowing down, trying not to hit the obstacle at the end of the runway, the brakes failed. All Grasshopper saw was it suddenly get very dark outside. If daylight had the ability to penetrate the mass outside, he would have realised the plane had smacked head first into a large round brown biscuit shaped thing that the T-Rex had left on the runway. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We seem to have … er … plowed into some dino doo. You will need to exit from the back of the plane while the ground crew dig us out and refuel the aircraft.’

When the rear dorway was eventually opened, after the groundcrew brought some old movable stairs to the plane, there was a sudden rush of green smog. Most of the passengers found that the airsick bags, that most hadn’t needed before, now couldn’t be opened fast enough. If they had of thought that airplane food was bad enough before they’d eaten it, they now had to see it again.

‘I better mobile ahead,’ thought Grasshopper. ‘He pulled out his Lunther Corp mobile phone and dialed the head office.’

‘Lex speaking,’ said Lex. Grasshopper hadn’t realised he had phoned his direct boss, Lex Lunther.

‘Hi, this is Grasshopper, I’m the new exectutive from China.’

‘Yes, Grasshopper. What can I do for you?’

‘You’re not going to believe this. The planes going to be late, it’s sort of, stuck in dino doo.’

‘Ah, it’s all hit the fan has it?’

‘The fan, the cokpit, somes in the engines. But don’t worry, it’s all undercontrol. Just means I’m going to be arriving later than expected.’

‘Good, I have an assignment for you then. We’ve just bought a new hotel at Narita. Apparently it’s sustained a little damage when Wayuno Towers took a topple a short while ago. Can you head over there, spend the night and assess the damge for me?’

‘Yeah, sure thing Mister Lunther.’

‘Please, call me Lex Grasshopper.’

With that, Grasshopper sorted out his paperwork with the authorities and took a taxi over to the Lunther Hotel in Narita. The damage was minimal. Mainly, it was the turtle doo in the swimming pool that was a the problem. There were a few smashed windows and such, but the hotel staff had moved any guests from those rooms to better accomodation.


‘Mister Wayuno,’ said the terrified voice at the other end of the phone. ‘We have very bad news for you. Your property has collapsed.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Bruce. ‘Prices will come back up again.’

‘Not the price. The property has collapsed. Giant turtle one has been thrown into the building and building fell over.’

‘Giant turtle one? You’re numbering these things now?’

‘No, the giant turtle. Smashed up Tokyo, you know the one. He landed on the building. Building fall over. T-Rex ran away to Sapporo. Turtle very angry. Can’t find T-Rex, runs amok smashing trains, farting a lot and singing J-Pop tunes. People very scared. Never heard J-Pop in such a screeeechy voice before.’

‘So, you’re saying the building I just bought has been demolished.’

‘Hai. And no insurance against monster attack in Japan. Happens way too often.’

‘So, I’ve lost the entire building? How much did that thing cost me anyway?’

‘Was only fifteen thousand yen. Very cheap. Still, we are thinking of buying another building nearby for you. Little smaller, but only fourteen thousand yen. Still, it is fifteen stories high.’

‘Can you talk them down a little?’

‘I have tried, because of the cost of digging it out.’

‘Digging it out? Landslide? Earthquake? What’s it doing buried?’

‘Oh, more monster problems. Don’t worry, we arranged a fertaliser company to take it away. Made ten thousand yen on the deal.’

‘So, we’re only five thousand yen down? Well done Kato!’

Bruce hung up the phone. Hmmm, he thought to himself. There’s money in monster dung.

‘Clarke,’ ordered Bruce. ‘Get me our man in New York. Who did we send there?’

‘Actually, we sent Harold there after he refused to go to Toyko.’

‘Fantastic. Just the man we need! He’s used to being in up to his armpits.’