The Ricky: Morty the Happy Rocker
Named after our hallowed clueless dancer from way back in 2007, Ricky, The Ricky is for the everyman that boogies within us all.
Mr White hands out the award:
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When combing through the entire year’s worth of archives for this reward, I had one question in mind: “Why did I volunteer to give myself eye syphilis?” But after that, a second question presented itself: “What is the essence of The Ricky?”
To me, the essence of The Ricky is a few borderline douche traits that are not affected to attract the hott, but adopted because The Ricky actually likes them. The Ricky isn’t after the appearance of cool–he does what he likes. The Ricky may be a true countercultural figure, adopting bits and pieces of douche culture and rendering them meaningless by stripping them of all intent. But yet, paradoxically, it’s very likely that at some point, teachers and guidance counselors decided to “mainstream” The Ricky instead of putting him in special ed, but only by a very close vote. You want to mock, but in the end, all you can say is, “Look at that happy, goofy bastard.” In that sense, perhaps all of us should try to embrace our own Inner Rickys.
That said, there was one clear choice this year: Morty the Happy Rocker, who actually graced these pages twice.
Yes, yes, he has a fauxhawk, but look into his eyes. He didn’t do this to get chicks. He just thinks its bad ass. When he combs it down during the day, he becomes a respectable citizen.
At the Jiffy Lube, he won the coveted “Employee Most Likely to Remember to Actually Put New Oil in the Car” four times in a row. He takes it as a complement when people say he reminds them of Private Pyle in “Full Metal Jacket.” He hopes he can take Kim on a third date so he can smooch her chastely on the cheek, in spite of the fact that Kim is clearly demonstrating that she’d be up for some erotic asphyxiation on the zeroth date.
For that, I celebrate Morty. Good on you, bro, for being a gentleman to Kim while I stole money and Percocet out of her purse.
There were no other candidates even close to Morty, in my opinion, but distant runners up include Happy Skippy and Far Left Guy from Boobies and Stupid Glasses.
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The original Ricky still cracks me up and I just got had a good chuckle when his visage popped up on the screen. Great work Mr. White a worthy winner indeed.
Perfect choice Whitey. In honor of Morty The Happy Rocker, Rammstein is just getting on the Dusseldorf Stage. Here we go!
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Euros
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Deserving winner and extremely detailed documentation. Nice work, Mr. White. While volunteering for this assignment may have rendered you temporarily blind, your tireless efforts declare you a true hero in this rapidly declining world.
Kudos for a scholarly and defensible treatise. And I dig Happy Rocker’s Down-For-Whatever poor-man’s Holly Hunter as well. I’d like to put my Mr. Incredible in her Elastigirl.
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Italicizers.
Morty is just so happy!!
As for the eye syphillis, Mr. White demonstrates that there is no eye in team. Thank you for taking one for the team!!
I hope to see duct tape boobies girl from Far Left Guy in one of the future votes for best Golden Globes.
I still think his rocker horns need work. I’m not convinced he is truly Rock AND Roll. Nice work Mr. White. Erotic asphyxiaton on the zeroeth date FTW. I sure do, I mean she sure looks that way.
Please turn off the italics, they give me a fuccen headache. Just like the Italians, and their debt-ridden lira. Quite valuable these days, I think you can get a cup of joe for a wheelbarrow full of ’em.
Great job by Tighty Whitey, to be sure. I love the Ricky award, it’s one of the more complimentary ones we give out around here. And by complimentary, I mean, we only throw the thawed water balloons at you, not the frozen ones the rest of the idiots get pelted with.
Note to the Rev: Why don’t you fire up “Scotty Doesn’t Know” by Lustra. The one where Matt Damon is fronting the band. It’s a peach.
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Biscotti’s
Morty is the kind of guy who dashes out of the room to do what you’ve asked him to do before you even finish completing the instructions. He’s that kind of nice, every-dude. He’s the kind of guy who gets easily confused at the bar when everyone is arguing over who paid last (it was him) and ends up sheepishly agreeing to pay again, but isn’t really bothered by it because a) he doesn’t remember paying last time, and b) he’s just a nice lunkhead who tries.
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Props to Mr. White for finding the one innocent victim of a head injury stumbling along with a stinking herd of Audiger zombies.
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Keep ’em coming, boss. And by keep ’em coming I mean BLAAAAARFFF!!! Acck! Kha-AAAAAACKT! P’tui.
The first request of the Douchies shall be honored at all costs to humanity. I can’t believe this guy ever gave credit to the Turd that allegedly wrote one of my favourite movies of violence, abandonement, poverty, genius, abd self-actualization.
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Ladies and Gentlemen. Please welcome live to the west stage. The poet of a generation, a rock star of Bourne identities, the man who has no clue who to pick as his best friend Good Will Lustra..
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I’d like to lich Dolores O’Rioiardan’s turd-cutter.
Thank You Mr. White for not only explaining The Ricky, but for an excellent representation.
The earrings and the rocker horns don’t bother me for there is no malicious intent, and his happy smile and Hooter Helen’s clean-shaven arm pits are as comforting as a freshly opened bottle of NyQuil on a rainy evening in Bangladesh.
I think this guy fixed my copier a while back. And by fix I mean scratch his head and call the tech from the back room to look at it.
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Never mistake the Ricky with getting RickRolled even though Morty has the studio version, the live at the British MTV Awards version, the bootleg cell phone audio version and that Macy’s Parade Cartoon Network Float hilarity all on his iPod. All true
ahhh. The Ricky. My favorite.
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I still have the original Ricky post bookmarked for those extra shitty days. Shit cheers me up every time.
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Go on with your bad self brother! Go on…
@ Wedgie: Italy is actually on the Euro now, just like all the other countries in the Eurozone who are collapsing: Spain, Portugal, Greece and Ireland. The only one not in trouble? England. And, curiously enough, they’re in the Eurozone, but they opted out of the currency and remained on Pounds Sterling.
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COINCIDENCE……………..?
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That being said, Well done, Mr. White. I have a special surprise for you when you get back to the playpen. Ke$ha is here and I have a whole bag of hickory wood chips.
^Lovely Redhead:
I know, it was a joke, because Wedgie has some Italian blood in him. And by Italian blood, I mean a mixture of Sicilian gangster and Morrocans who can sail or swim. It’s why I’m so fuccen tan all year.
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Melanzane’s
Zeroth, awesome new word.
Nice Sr. White.
This hot is adorable even as she hangs herself,.
^ zeroth has always been a word. Seriously?
^Yeth, it’th a word. Theriouthly.
She has the body of a 12 year old boy….in drag.
Because of you, Mr. White, I’m going to embrace my own inner Ricky. I’ll tell you, though, something makes me want to take a hedge clipper to that ‘do.
Morty’s thin wristed awkward horns gesture is classic. Good choice Mr. White.
Thanks for the kind words, all. Now if you’ll excuse me, Medusa and I have a lot of “work” to do to Ke$ha.
Excellent choice and write up. Fewer comments than your insights deserve. But that’s only because you’re squeezed between the Golden Globe nominees.
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I like that imagery.
She’s hanging the wrong person. And mad props to Mr. White.
“Melanzanes”. *Coffee spit all over the monitor*
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Wedgie, you rascal.
As usual, Mr. White strikes again with his eloquent prose about being and embracing our inner retard. Way to go Senior Blanco.
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On a totally different note, can I watch what you and Medusa do to Ke$sha? Purely for scientific reasons of course.
If you squint a bit it looks like she’s holding a (rather bright red) bloody dagger to her neck.
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Nice job Mr. W! Pro prose. Props.