Showing posts with label DC Comics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DC Comics. Show all posts

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Dr. Manthatta

Having been away for some months, I've most recently had the opportunity to catch up on my movie watching...and I see this trailer full of nonsense: Watchmen. Come on! The Almighty Manta has been around way longer than those jokers and they get a movie first? Give me a break...and that guy, Rorschach. What the hell kinda name is that anyways. Is that Greek? Whoever heard of a Greek superhero...

And all the wailing and gnashing of nerdy teeth over this suckfest...makes me sick. You think us super-types would wait in line for months arguing about a movie concerning your ordinary human lives? Of course not, cause we're super. We have better things to not do, than think about you wimps. And while you're plunking down $15 hard earned bucks to go see a bunch of boring heroes without submersible helmets bitch about their broken marriages, those same heroes are out stiffing waiters, staring at your girlfriend's boobies and generally giving a rat's ass about how much you just LOVE their story. Who watches the Watchmen? You do...and they love your money for it.

I'm not bitter. I just call 'em as I see 'em:




Now on the other hand...if someone would be so gracious as to make a Black Manta Movie I would most certainly greet everyone of you at the first screening, with balloons and Manta-rides. All five of you.

You heard it here first non-believers,
B.M.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Black Manta's Rules

Greetings Junior Manta Members and welcome to yet another rousing installment of Black Manta's Rules: a monthly reflection on all things top shelf and worldly according to our very own illustrious leader...Black Manta!

Thank you. As always, it is my pleasure to have this opportunity to address you, the future Manta Men & Women of...the future.

Today we will be delving into the hot and heavy world of aphrodisiacs; in particular the oyster myth. For centuries mankind has sought a natural way in which to make the opposite sex swoon without having to work too hard or look too good. From Horny Goat Weed to Spanish Fly, man has gone to great lengths to make his length become great; and with flaccid results. Modern medicine and deviant Internet sites have provided a great deal of assistance, but humanity still looks to mother nature on occasion for that home run. And no other creature, with perhaps the exception of Brian Dennehy, has been the target of lustful prayers like the oyster.


And whom do we have to thank for all this sexual tom-foolery in our seafood? That's right, say it loud...ACK-WA MAN! Shortly after World War II, The King of the Seas embarked on a world wide propaganda campaign that made this bold, yet simple claim: consuming large amounts of oysters would induce a sexual frenzy in human beings. His research and proof were as snake-oiled as they come; but what the hell, if you believe a guy can breath underwater and talk to guppies, why not horny oysters? The country, and the world for that matter, was ripe for this type of fad and Ack-Wa Perv was spinning it like a hula-hoop in a dryer. But what really did the dirty dog have to gain by saying oysters will get you laid?

Big money dollars. Lots of 'em.

The Atlantian economy was mired in an economic sargasso by the early 50s. Centuries of bloody revolutions and inbreeding had left Ack-Wa's kingdom little more than an underwater Delaware. And as the United States and Russia ramped up for a long Cold War, His Royal Fishness figured he could pull the oyster card on either nation and thereby save his crown. His pitch: should nuclear winter fall upon the world, it would be the country whose citizens were getting busy in the bomb shelters and the fallout bunkers that would rule the roost after the fact. More people born, more chances to spread their particular post-apocalyptic ideology.

Not exactly the most ingenious of plans, seeing as humanity would have nothing better to do than screw its radiated brains after WWIII, with or without the help of some canned clams. However, Congress ate it up, hook, line and oyster. From there Atlantian Royal Canneries in cooperation with the US FDA, embarked on one of the greatest marketing campaigns this nation has ever seen: Acky's Oysters. In bomb shelters and grocery stores across the country folks were lining their shelves with sexually infused mussels and hunkering down for a nice piece of patriotic sex-pie; courtesy of Mr. Fishdick and the atomic age. Please note the suggestive tag line at the bottom of this vintage can...

There you have it friends. Underwater politics turned psycho-nomical warfare. Call it population promotion, call it keep 'em fucking. Whatever the case, Khrushchev was not biting into the same rotten crabcake as his Puritan brothers across the pond. He saw right through the underwater huckster and threatened to deep fry Ack-Wa's scallops should he ever return to Moscow. In the end, despite a considerable investment return, Acky's proved to be a public health disaster in the United States, with thousands of people becoming dreadfully ill instead of sexually charged, and was pulled from the shelves only 2 years after its initial development. Today Acky's Oysters are just another chunk of forgotten Americana, littering the halls of Ebay and antique fisheries around the globe.

Yet the urban legend lives on...

...but despite their creepy erotic appearance, and whatever Ack-Wa Pimp says, the fact is oysters have no proven sexual side effects; good or bad. This also holds true for most purported aphrodisiacs; chocolate, celery, dried Brian Dennehy; all fairly innocuous in their own way. However, combine these items, or anything for that matter, with a boot-knocking, spit-swapping frame of mind and you'll have a full on Atlantian orgy in no time! Which leads me to Black Manta's Rule of the month:

Black Manta's Rule #42: The libido, its all in your head fella.

So next time you want to make a move on a fellow Junior Manta Member, don't reach for an oyster. That's what Ack-Wa Man would do. Instead, reach for her brain...and tell her, Manta sent ya.

Till next month,
B.M.

Sunday, April 6, 2008

The Tax Manta

Guess who's lair is not getting audited this year? Eat it Fedareles! Manta keeps all the receipts for contract menacings...

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Mountie Manta

Canada is good for at least one import...rock and roll!


Thanks to The Jarod. Good luck in ze Fatherland.
Manta be praised!

Erockin

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Your Daily Manta

Hmmm...wonder what old man Manta is watching on the boob tube? I'm sure its cooler than talking to fish all day, like stupid Ack-wa Man.



Beware ye who tempt the sea,
E. Barnaclkins