idiotprufs

Read by four out five drunken monkeys–written by the fifth.

Archive for the tag “comedy”

An Idiot’s Bucket List

bucket

Evidently playing in the sand is on my bucket list.

I was recently asked what’s on my bucket list.

I told him I didn’t have any buckets, and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t make a list of them. What am I, some kind of idiot?

I was informed that I am an idiot, and I clearly didn’t know what a bucket list was.

Note: it seems I was also confused about what a bucket is. Evidently chamber pots don’t count.

An idiot’s Bucket List

  • Have a conversation with an attractive woman that doesn’t end with me rinsing the pepper spray from my eyes.
  • Go on a date with an attractive woman.
  • Go on a date with any woman.
  • Overcome my crippling fear of dates (not the dried fruit).
  • Overcome my crippling fear of dates (the dried fruit).
  • Purchase a Ronco food dehydrator, enabling me to reduce a watermelon to the size of a pea without sacrificing an ounce of flavor or nutritional value.
  • I want to invent a machine that enlarges a pea to the size of a watermelon without adding an iota of flavor or nutritional value.
  • Obtain a level of maturity that allows me to not giggle uncontrollably every time I hear the name Lake Titicaca.
  • Obtain a level of maturity that allows me to not giggle uncontrollably every time I hear the word peninsula, because it reminds me of the word penis.

Note: etymologists claim the word peninsula has no derivation from the word penis. I am skeptical. Why are most peninsulas shaped like penis’s?

Entomologists also claim the word peninsula has no derivation from the word penis. But first they enlighten us with some fascinating facts about the Egyptian dung beetle. (Egypt: not a peninsula-not shaped like a penis. Just saying.)

  • I want to punch Justin Bieber in his smug little face.
  • I want to meet Justin Bieber, and subsequently punch him in his smug little face.
  • I want to be dining in a restaurant where Justin Bieber chokes on his meal, and I step in and heroicly save his life…so I can punch him in his smug little face.
  • I’d like to dine in a restaurant where they know me, and there’s only a moderate chance my food will be spat in.
  • I want to go back to the days when I didn’t know what human saliva tastes like.
  • I want to ride a dolphin, but a porpoise will do.
  • I want to know the difference between a dolphin and a porpoise.
  • I want to operate a boat without every other passenger on the boat fearing for their lives.
  • I want to stand on the Great Wall of China, turn to person next to me, and declare, “let’s see the neighbor’s dog crap on my lawn now.”
  • I want to finish the Eiffel Tower, but do a really crappy job.
  • I want to make a mime talk…and if at all possible, cry.
  • I want to write an opera in Italian.
  • I want to learn how to write in Italian.
  • I want to make the fat lady sing, or at least choose a more sensible diet.
  • I want to discover indisputable evidence that Bigfoot exists, then destroy it, so I’m the only one who really knows.
  • I want to come up with an idea that leads to world peace.
  • I want to amend the previous item on this list.
  • I want to come up with an idea that makes me filthy rich, and if the whole world peace thing also happens, that’s fine too…I guess.
  • I just want a bucket. (But not to pee in, that’s a chamber pot.)

    chamber pot

    A chamber pot: the perfect place to put this list.

Where is the Toad-Licker Justice?

toad licker

A close friend of Richard Mullins.

The Story

An Indiana man who was licking a toad while dancing by himself on an Indiana sidewalk is locked up after ignoring a trespass warning issued by cops, according to police.

Note: if he had a toad, surely he wasn’t dancing by himself.

La Porte Police Department officers were called to a bar when Richard Mullins, 41, refused to leave the property after being escorted outside by security. The barefoot Mullins was not allowed entry into JJ’s Side Out Bar and Grill, when he would not provide bouncers with ID…also, he was licking a toad.

toad licker

Richard Mullins: dance enthusiast, toad-licker, and Tchaikovsky fan.

When questioned by cops, Mullins had a “blank look on his face but no pupil dilation to suggest he was under the influence of any drugs.”

The toad had a look of simple resignation on his face.

Officers warned Mullins that if he returned to the bar’s property he would be arrested. Mullins seemed to understand the warning. “As he was dancing he would walk right up to the property line that we pointed out and then he would retreat, often by executing a perfect Grande Jete,” an officer stated. “He also had a wonderful arabesque…it was simply breathtaking.” The officer then wiped a tear from his eye.

But a few minutes after receiving the trespass warning, Mullins returned to the bar’s parking lot. When police subsequently approached Mullins, he was holding another toad. He also seemed to be performing the part of Odette from Swan Lake. Possibly a scene from act 4 where Odette has resigned herself to death. Responding officers couldn’t be certain of this, as he seemed to be performing the Mariinsky Ballet version, in which everybody knows: Odette lives happily.

Charged with misdemeanor trespassing, amphibian assault, and just acting like a weirdo, Mullins was booked into the La Porte County jail, where he is being held in advance of a June 30 court appearance.

The toads opted for separate legal council.

Since the police report does not identify what kind of toad Mullins was licking, it is impossible to determine the amphibian’s potential psychoactive properties or its toxicity.

The toads however were completely stoned as a result of contact with Mullins’ tongue.

The Point

When will the blatant discrimination against toad-lickers stop?

For far too long toad-lickers have been the targets of police brutality.

If you’re denied entrance into an establishment because of your race: discrimination!

If you’re denied entrance into an establishment because of your sexual orientaion: discrimination!

If you’re denied entrance into an establishment because you’re licking a toad, barefoot, and slightly odd looking: perfectly well and fine in our backwards society.

How is it anybody’s business what a grown man and his toad do together?

Where’s the Supreme Court on this issue?

Isn’t it time as a people, we give toad-lickers the respect they deserve?

Thank you.

Addendum

If you’re denied entrance into an establishment because you’re Justin Bieber: well that’s pretty much just common sense.

bieber toad licker

“When I lick a toad…I forgot what I was going to say.”

Rodeo Clowns, Boy Bands, and a Pissed Off Bull

“Is that N’ Sync I hear?”

Bulls are huge, powerfully built animals with menacing horns, devastating hooves, and an unflinching desire to be left alone.

Bull-riders, by comparison, are sweaty little cowboys who feel it’s heroic to climb onto the backs of bulls, regardless of how irritating it is to the bull.

Bulls have names like Destroyer, The Widow-Maker, and The Mauler.

Bull-riders have names like Bucky, Earl, and that guy who used have testicles.

Bulls are simple animals, content to stand around and chew their cud, occasionally pausing to pee on the dirt.

Bull-riders are simple people, content to stand around and chew tobacco, occasionally pausing to pee on the dirt.

The only thing in which bulls truly revel is inflicting life threatening injuries upon things that annoy them.

Bull-riders annoy them.

The only things that bulls hate more than bull-riders are rodeo clowns, the Kardashians, and boy bands.

Note: it should be mentioned–the entire animal kingdom hates boy bands…especially badgers.

angry badgers

We’re coming for you Timberlake.

The sanctioned amount of time a bull-rider must stay on the bull is eight seconds. It was found to be the amount of time it takes the average person to look up, do a double take, gape momentarily, then utter the phrase: “would you look at what that idiot over there is doing.”

The bull-rider sneaks up behind the bull while it’s minding its own business, peeing in the dirt, enjoying a moment of quiet reflection, and he scrabbles onto the bull’s back.

The bull is then released into the arena where storms around in a state of agitation as it attempts to repel the annoyance that has so rudely interrupted his peeing.

Note: a bull in a state of agitation, closely resembles any other creature in a blind rage…or Charlie Sheen on a good day.

Meanwhile the bull-rider is being thrashed about like a rag doll.

The bull swiftly dislodges the annoyance, launching him through the air. The annoyance crashes to the ground, tumbles several feet and skids to a halt.

He displaces an impressive amount of manure filled dirt with his face.

His teeth continue on for several more feet.

As the bull-rider staggers to his feet, dazed and unsure of what’s happening, the bull finishes peeing then turns to face him.

The bull lowers its horns and beats its hooves at the dirt; a malevolent glint appears in its dark animal eyes.

As in any time of great crisis, men wearing make-up are called upon to save the day: the rodeo clowns are deployed.

They dance around the bull, taunting and mocking it (evidently the bull is not pissed-off enough yet) until they can lure the bull’s attention away from the bull-rider.

Sensing that their efforts are falling short, they form a line and belt out an N’sync medley.

The bull becomes so confused with rage that it charges into the stands and heads straight for Kim Kardashian and Kayne West, who just happen to be in attendance.

The bull gruesomely gores Kim Kardashian’s butt, which for some unexplained reason, was fully nude and oiled-up.

The crowd cheers wildly.

The bull-rider is saved; the rodeo clowns are showered with cheers and adulation. It seems that all is well, until a pack of frenzied badgers pour into the arena and savagely attack the rodeo clowns.

After several moments of shrill screams and wild chittering, the badgers flee as quickly as they appeared.

The rodeo clowns lie in the dirt, bloody and defeated, their painted on smiles betraying them.

bull

“You’re dressing oddly these days Kayne.”

Somewhere in the deep recesses of it’s mind, the bull feels a deep sense of satisfaction.

Deflate-gate and the presentation of the winning game ball!

dali deflategate

Following the success of Spending Quality Time With Known Felons in a Dimly Lit Bar (less death threats than usual) here is another guess post from Another Idiot. Enjoy.

For as long as I can remember, it has been customary in the NFL to present the game ball to the team member that was most responsible for the win. Football is an American tradition, the most popular sport, and one of my favorite pass-times. Every year football fans yearn for midsummer after waiting several months during the off season in anticipation of a winning season for their favorite team, and a possible playoff berth. For most of us we end up disappointed in our favorite team’s inability to continue to the end of the season, and win a Super Bowl. It seems to reason that teams will have ups and downs, good years and bad, streaks of fortune and misfortune.
However, some teams seem to always be in the hunt, and never have an off-season no matter what their personnel situation is. They are always in the playoffs, and always have a shot at a Lombardi trophy. If you haven’t guessed it by now; I’m talking about the New England Patriots.
Attention: If you are a New England Patriot’s fan, move forward with extreme caution! You may want to regress back to the home page. Further entry into this document may cause extreme feelings; especially if you don’t have a sense of humor. You may not be ready to witness what the following passage has to offer. The below listed side effects may occur if you continue to peruse this document. (Cheesy disclaimers work for medication, why not a blog?)

Conditions caused by this passage that may be harmful to Patriot fans:

  • Bulging veins.
  • Double vision.
  • Blurred vision
  • Clenching of fists.
  • fisticuffs.
  • Cufflink wearing.
  • Heavy drinking.
  • Heavy lifting.
  • Heavy smoking.
  • Heavy thinking, (well, probably not).
  • Binge eating.
  • Binge drinking.
  • Excess binging.
  • Moderate binging.
  • Redundancy.
  • Oxymoron.
  • And many other ill effects that could alter your personality, and life styles too numerous to list.

So if you are a New England Patriot’s fan, you have been warned. It’s still not too late to turn back.
As we cheer for our teams, we take pride in their accomplishments. There is a certain amount of ethics and morals that go into the standards in which the game is played. We don’t tolerate cheating, and a certain amount of disdain is fostered towards those athletes who decide that winning took precedence over ethics of the game.

I’m talking about the New England Patriot’s deflate-gate and spy gate. The patriots have been caught red handed, cheating; and twice, (in my humble opinion), they have gotten off easy. The first incident was the “Spy Gate” of 2007 where the Patriots were videotaping other teams signal calling during the game. Coach Belichick was fined $500,000 the maximum, the team fined $250,000, and the loss of their first draft choice. It was discovered that the team had used this practice since 2000. The second was Tom Brady being suspended for four games for violating the rule of 12.5 to 13.5 PSI air pressure in the game balls in 2014. What do both these incidents have in common? Both years the Patriots were playing in a Super Bowl, and both years they were caught cheating.

Other teams who cheated and were given admonishment from the NFL:
-Mike Tomlin, Pittsburgh’s head coach, stepped on field to disrupt play, fined $100,000. He apologized and put it behind him.
-Ray Farmer, Cleveland’s GM fined $250,000 and suspended four games for texting his coach during a game.
-New Orleans Saints bounty gate, Head coach suspended one year, defensive coordinator suspended indefinitely, GM suspended eight games, assistant head coach suspended six games, Vilma suspended 2012 season, Anthony Hargrove suspended eight games, Will Smith suspended four games, and Scott Fujita three game suspension, $500,000 fine and loss of 2nd round draft picks in 2012 and 2013 seasons, (their first round pick was traded away to NE).
-Falcons fined $350,000 for pumping noise into the stadium, and lost 5th round draft in 2016.
-Penn State: too much to list, (they never cheated; they had a sick individual on their college coaching staff who caused the entire system to suffer for years). You know the story.

List of possible admonishments for the New England Patriots for Deflate-gate:
Real list: Suspend Tom Brady for 1 Year

idiotprufs’ list: Force Brady to dress as a mime and stay in character
(Four games isn’t enough) for 1 year during the 2016 football season.

Real list: Suspend Belichick indefinitely

idiotprufs’ list: Force Belichick to dress as a mime and stay in
character indefinitely.

Real list: Fire the equipment managers.

idiotprufs’ list: Promote the equipment managers to GM, and allow
them unconditional access to the equipment room.

Real list: Forfeit playoff availability for one year.

idiotprufs’ list: NFL forfeit the New England Patriots for one year.

Real list: Robert Kraft forced to sell team.

idiotprufs’ list: New England is forced to sell Girl Scout cookies, (they
are really good cookies, especially PB).

bill-belichick-deflategate-meme

In light of “SPY GATE”, the length of time the Patriots’ conducted it and got away with it; it is perplexing to me that they aren’t suspected of continuing the practice to this day. After seeing them come from behind on numerous occasions after half-time, it is fishy that they miraculously seem to know what the other team is going to do, and their opponents seem to have no answer to this conundrum. The Buffalo Bills beat the Patriots in 2011, 34-31 after leading at the half 21-0. The Bills QB claimed that they changed their signal calling after the half to confuse New England; it worked. The Patriots looked confused, as if they expected the plays to be totally different. I’m surprised other teams haven’t adopted this practice.
Things teams could do to beat the New England Patriots
1) Over-inflate the game balls.
2) Learn New England’s signal calls and change strategy at the half.
3) Change their signals after the half to the opposite of what they were in the first half.
4) Pay the refs more than New England.
5) Sell the Patriots Ex-lax laced Girl Scout cookies; (this is extremely cruel, as no one should mess with Girl Scout cookies, especially the peanut butter).
6) Pay a bounty to the defense.
7) Pump noise into the stadium.
8) Text your coach during the game. (I’m not sure how this would work, but it must somehow; it’s illegal. Anyway, millions of teenagers couldn’t be wrong).
9) Pretend the refs are mimes and ignore them. Their outfits are sort of similar.
10) Step near the field of play and jump back at the last second; it works every time.

So in closing, I think the game ball from the New England Super Bowl win should be presented to the equipment manager’s Jim McNally and John Jastranski. The Colts probably wouldn’t have won that game, it was too one sided. However, the Ravens lost 35-31 in the January weather in New England; deflated balls and knowing the other team’s plays after the half may have been enough to turn the tide of the game in New England’s favor.patriots super bowl ring

People Suck

Hugh Laurie

I know what you’re thinking: that statement is too broad.

Fine, I will amend it.

Human people suck.

Again too broad?

Some human people suck (although it’s only some, it seems I have contact with most of them).

People are lying, cheating, slandering, backstabbing, thieving, manipulative, reprobates. And those are just my aunts and uncles.

Note: some have wondered if the tales of my aunts and uncles are true, or if they are just for comedic effect. Firstly, any humor in this blog is purely accidental and not a product of my feeble mind. Secondly, some of the things I’ve written in this blog are in fact exaggerations. The following excerpt from a previous post would be an example:

The Stephen King classic, Cujo, was based on my aunt. While she’s not as hairy as the titular character, she does drool considerably more. You might think that’s mean, but you don’t know her.

Obviously Cujo was not based on my aunt. It was Pennywise the Dancing Clown from It who was based on her. My aunt wears more make-up than Pennywise, and she is slightly more evil, but otherwise the characterization was spot-on.

But seriously, about my aunts and uncles: I hate them.

Clown from It.

A picture of my aunt…or is it a picture of Pennywise, it’s virtually impossible to tell them apart.

Anyway, there are myriad reasons why people suck:

  • They are my aunts.
  • They are my uncles.
  • They are murderers.
  • They are racist.
  • They drive slowly in the fast lane.
  • They are racists who drive slowly in the fast lane.
  • They are philanderers.
  • They are philanthropists.
  • Wait, philanthropy is a good thing…unless you’re giving your money to a bad cause, like The Society For Clubbing Baby Seals.
  • They are people who club baby seals, or support the activity through generous donations.
  • They are people who club Seal the singer.
  • They are people who club Seal the singer with baby seals.
  • They are people who get into the 10 items or less line with more than 10 items.
  • They are people who use the word less when the word fewer is correct.
  • They are Justin Bieber.
  • They are Justin Bieber getting into the 10 items or less line with more than 10 items, while wildly swinging a baby seal.
  • They are arsonists.
  • They are people who park in front of fire hydrants.
  • They are people who park in front of fire hydrants while their arsonist friends set fires.
  • They are people who have arsonist friends.
  • They are people who take pleasure in seeing bad things happen to other people (unless the bad thing is happening to Justin Bieber).
  • They are people who become mimes (mimes are so smug).
  • They are people who are extortionists.
  • They are people who are contortionists (it’s super creepy how bendy they are).
  • They are whoever was responsible for The Jersey Shore.
  • They are people who say “lol” out loud.
  • They are murderers.
  • They are felons.
  • They are terrorists.
  • But possibly the most heinous people of all: they are double dippers.
George double dip

Seriously, it’s like you’re putting your whole mouth in the bowl, George.

Addendum:

If Seal got into a fight with Justin Bieber, who do think would win?

Yeah, it’d be Seal.

seal

“I’m coming for you Bieber.”

Bieber

The most punchable face ever. He’s almost mime-smug.

The Great Broccoli Fiasco

broccoliApart from a few facts that may be the products of my faulty memory, this story is completely true.

It came from the kitchen, and it was horrendous. It stung your nostrils, and it turned your stomach.

Note: my roommate’s name in this story was Al, but for the sake of brevity and ease, I will be referring to him simply as: Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man.

Me: what is that horrendous smell?

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: it’s probably me.

Me: it is a sickening and repulsive stench, but it’s a different kind of sickening and repulsive stench.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: I think it’s coming from the refrigerator.

Me: but there’s nothing in the refrigerator apart from a bottle of ketchup, some old pizza, and mysterious yellow stain that seems to move about on its own.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: the stain scares me; it’s shaped like a spider.

Me: (opening the refrigerator door, only to be staggered by the smell) holy crap, it is coming from the refrigerator.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: it must be the anchovies on that left over pizza; they taste like the ass-end of a rhinoceros.

Me: well, I’ll have to defer to your expertise in ass related matters.

Note: anchovies are lumps of decaying fish, infused with all of the salt in the world–they’re delicious.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: I know how to get rid of it.

He grabbed the pizza box from the fridge and hurled it onto the roof below the kitchen window of our apartment.

Me: brilliant.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: of course it’s brilliant; I’m the one who did it.

Me: your brilliance is only matched by your humility.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: it’s my humility that makes me great.

Me: you are a walking oxymoron.

So the problem was solved…or was it?

Not only did the odor not dissipate, it grew in strength.

The next day:

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: why hasn’t the smell gone away?

Me: it wasn’t the anchovies.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: anchovies taste like the ass-end of a rhinoceros.

Me: we have to do something; air fresheners won’t cover it up.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: air fresheners won’t cover up the ass-end of rhinoceros?

Me: probably not, but I was referring specifically to the smell in the kitchen.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: well we’ve checked everywhere.

Me: is there anything in the vegetable crisper?

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: the what?

Me: the drawer where you keep the vegetables.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: the what now?

Me: I’ll show you.

I slid open the vegetable crisper to reveal a bowl of expired broccoli and possibly the most rancid smell that has ever stimulated my olfactory senses.

Me: how can vegetables possibly smell that bad?

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: I didn’t even know that drawer was there.

Me: we have to get rid of them.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: I have an idea.

So Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man grabbed the bowl of tainted broccoli and flushed it down the toilet.

The problem was solved…or was it.

It seems pouring a bowl full of broccoli down a toilet is the equivalent of pouring a bucket full of concrete down a toilet; it was a mess. There was literally a waterfall of human waste pouring down the kitchen wall of the downstairs neighbor.

She was unhappy…loudly.

A few days later we had a typical western New York snowstorm which dropped about four feet of snow on us.

The landlord came to shovel the snow from the roof outside our kitchen window. He struggled with something that was solidified to the roof. It turned out to a pizza with anchovies.

He was unhappy…loudly.

Note: if you were unaware: anchovies smell like the ass-end of a rhinoceros.

rhino butt

The Stupid Need not Apply

So you need to find a job, but you interview poorly because of the following problems:

You have poor verbal skills; your speech basically consists of a series of grunts and clicks.

You get nervous in pressure filled situations; you sweat profusely, get dizzy, and blackout as you mumble incoherently about your collection of soap carvings.

You are sloppy and ill-mannered; you think Larry the Cable Guy’s a little too uptight.

You make a bad first impression.

You make a bad second impression.

Your third impression is just dreadful.

Your fourth impression is slightly better than your third.

But the fifth time people meet you they snap and attack you with a claw hammer.

You smell funny: like beets and goat urine.

And finally: you’re remarkably stupid.

So in light of these shortcomings, I’m going to aid you in your quest for employment with some helpful hints to get you through that daunting job interview.

Things you should not wear to a job interview:

  • A belt buckle that reads: The Boss Sucks.
  • Your “I’m too drunk to care” t-shirt.
  • That shirt you own that has a mustard stain shaped like Jiminy Cricket.
  • That shirt you own that has a ketchup stain shaped like Donald Duck.
  • Any shirt, with any stain, shaped like any Disney character.
  • That sombrero you’re so proud of.
  • Your alligator boots. (This applies if you’re interviewing for a job with Peta.)
  • Your lucky pair of pants. They may be lucky, but the hole in the crotch isn’t doing you any favors.
  • Your eye patch. Yes, it makes you look dangerous and cool, but don’t.
  • Your Omar Moreno wig. Yes, it’s hysterical, but don’t.
omar moreno hair

It’s hysterical, but don’t.

Things not to do on a job interview:

  • Turn every innocuous statement into a double entendre by responding with the phrase: that’s what she said.
  • Bring in Leonard, your pet lizard, because you think the interviewer might enjoy seeing how a lizard can devour an entire rat.
  • Bring in Wilbur, your pet wombat, because you think the interviewer might be fascinated by how much a wombat can crap.
  • Bad-mouth your previous employer using phrases such as, weasel-faced penis, rat-fink, or tiny brained flea.
  • Punctuate the tirade about how unfairly your previous employer treated by saying, “of course, I was stealing from the company to finance my crystal meth habit.”
  • Nod toward a picture of your interviewer’s wife, give him a knowing wink and say, “sweet.”
  • Don’t lean into your interviewer, carefully study his face, and then say, “a good plastic surgeon could fix that.”
  • Don’t try to show your interviewer how clever you are by guessing her age and weight.
  • Don’t ask your interviewer if he’s prematurely gray, or just dirt-old.
  • Don’t recommend a good wrinkle cream.
  • Under no circumstance should you ask your interviewer to “smell this.”
  • Don’t do anything the voices in your head tell you to do; they don’t have your best interest in mind.
  • Don’t introduce your interviewer to Phineas, your imaginary friend.
  • Don’t tell your interviewer that Phineas thinks he smells good.
  • Don’t demonstrate your conscientiousness by pointing out that you’re waiting until after the interview to get stoned.

Note: The following is an actual conversation I had with a man who was dropping off his resume at a place where I used to work:

Man: Is there someone here that I can talk to about a job?

Me: The plant manager does the hiring, but he isn’t here today.

Man: So I can’t talk to anyone today?

Me: Sorry.

Man: But I made sure not to get stoned today.

Me: That’s very conscientious of you; I’ll add a note to your resume.

Man: You make sure you do that.

That man wasn’t even considered for a position; does honesty count for nothing anymore?

Things not to put on your resume:

Under other interests:

  • Your plot to overthrow the government and replace it with a puppet regime. And the fact that the puppets are Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street.
  • Discussing your alien abduction, and various alien probing methods.
  • Your collection of shrunken heads.
  • Scrapbooking.
  • Hunting the world’s most dangerous prey: humans.
  • Miming.

Note: hunting mimes and shrinking their heads is acceptable…and if you should happen to scrapbook about it…whatever.

Under accomplishments:

  • Your swift rise to power as president of the Justin Bieber fan club.
  • Finishing at the top of your taxidermy class. (Again, this mostly applies if your interviewing for a job with Peta.)
  • Your fluency in Klingon.
  • Having been a cast member of any television show with the words “the housewives of” in the title.

Final and key piece of advice:

Just don’t be yourself.

bad interview

Don’t do this.

Nutella or Montague: What’s in a Name?

nutella

A delicious snack, but a terrible name for a French child.

According to Ole Bill Shakespeare what you call a thing doesn’t alter its nature; “that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” and all that.

Note: not to give anything away, but regardless of the lovely sentiment, things didn’t end well for Juliet.

It seems a court in Northern France disagrees with the Bard of Avon, and has taken a tough stance toward families who give their children odd names.

When one couple in Valenciennes tried to call their child Nutella, the shocked registrar immediately informed the local prosecutor, who took the case to court in the northern city. (But not before first making himself a quick snack, Nutella really is delicious.)

The judge argued that giving the child the name of a chocolate spread was against the girl’s interests as it might lead to mockery and unpleasant remarks. “Children can horribly cruel to other children who happen to have odd names,” the Honorable Peanut Butter N. Jelly told the court as he wiped a tear of remembrance from his eye. “Besides, her surname is already French, isn’t that bad enough?”

Note: Since my name, Shampoe, is also French, I’m allowed that last part.

The parents did not turn up at the hearing in November, and in their absence the judge ruled that the girl’s name should be shortened from Nutella to Ella. Her full name is now a much more respectable Ella Phant Butt. “Let’s see school children just try to make fun of that,” the court said.

The same court in Valenciennes made similar arguments in January this year before overturning the decision of another couple to name their child Fraise, the French word for strawberry.

The judge said that in particular the girl might face derision from people using the uncouth expression “ramène ta fraise” – a slang saying that translates as “get your a– over here.”

The parents opted instead for Fraisine, an elegant name popular in the 19th century which roughly translates as “get your non-strawberry a– over here.”

“French parents can choose whatever name they want for their offspring,” a registrar said, “but we will occasionally seek to ban or change a moniker that might be deemed against the child’s interests…or if we’re bored, or someone’s just being a real prick about things.”

“I don’t think it’s very funny,” said known prick Jacques Faucheux, father of court renamed Flaccid Penis Faucheux.

A family was told in 2009 that they could not name their child after the French cartoon character Titeuf.

titeuf

French cartoon character Titeuf–forget the name, I want my children to have that hairstyle.

Note: I’ve never been more glad to live in the United States; I fully plan to name my child, Magilla Gorilla Shampoe, and I don’t want the courts messing around with my daughter’s name.

Magilla

The name Magilla Gorilla just oozes class.

But the French courts don’t reserve this right for just human names. A dog owner in eastern France has been forced to change the names of his dogs, Itler and Iva, because they clearly “make people think of Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun.”

The unnamed owner argued that the names, Itler and Iva, had nothing to do with Adolph Hitler and Eva Braun. He grudgingly changed his dogs’ names to Iliso and Isio 4, but admitted he probably shouldn’t have shaved the swastikas into their fur.

And finally, in France you cannot call a pig Napoleon, due to a law aimed at preserving the image of the Emperor which remains on the statute books.

For shame George Orwell. For shame.

Animal Farm

Napoleon from George Orwell’s Animal Farm. For shame George Orwell.

 Addendum:

Jacques Faucheux has petitioned the court to have his son’s name (Flaccid Penis Faucheux) changed. He was a real prick about it.

The court granted his petition, and changed his son’s name to My-Fathers-A-Prick Faucheux.

Another petition is pending.

Stingrays and Vinny from Yonkers

Don’t let the happy face fool you; this is a vicious monster.
(image source: wpclipart.com)

Do you remember as a child, adults would bandy about that old saw that a bee would only sting if you provoked? Do you also remember the dissemination of that bit of information generally came moments after being stung by a bee?

I recall an instance in my childhood, sitting in my backyard, quietly playing in a manner that could be readily described as angelic, when a bee decided it had become sufficiently provoked. My youthful playtime came to an abrupt halt with the introduction of searing pain to the side of head.

I went in search of sympathy, only to find an accusatory tone. Unfortunately two of my aunts were visiting.

“What did you do to it?” The first asked in her typically snide voice.

“What did I do to it?” She was obviously confused by the sequence of events.

“You must have provoked it,” the other chimed in, with her less snide, but decidedly more mannish voice.

Note: my aunts’ inability to recognize a child playing in a manner that could be readily described as angelic, likely stems from their own entirely unangelic nature…they’re really bitchy.

Informed by this experience, I watched in amusement as a tour guide on a travel show condescendingly told Vinny from Yonkers, “don’t be alarmed by that stingray brushing against your leg, they only attack when they’re angry or provoked.”

Vinny from Yonkers response was to act alarmed. He then gave the tour guide a look that generally precedes a punch in the face.

Any animal in which the word “sting” is prominent in its name, is probably an animal of which to be wary. It is generally wise to approach anything with the ability to sting, with caution.

Things that sting:

  • Bees.
  • Wasps.
  • Hornets.
  • Platypuses (yes they sting; watch the Discovery Channel sometime).
  • Stinging nettles.
  • Graig Nettles, former gold glove third basemen of the New York Yankees, and his rapier wit.
  • Scorpions.
  • That vicious rejection from the cute girl you asked out. Seriously, she didn’t have to say that thing about your face.
  • Jellyfish.
  • Yellow jackets the type of insect.
  • Buzz the yellow jacket mascot of Georgia Tech. He didn’t have to say that thing about your face either.
  • That slap you received after making an ill-advised comment about your aunt’s mannish voice.
  • Gordon Sumner (Sorry, this is from the “things called sting” list).
  • Stingrays.

Also, how would you go about determining the mental state of a stingray? I’ve never seen one that appeared happy-go-lucky.

It’s probably hard being a big flat fish living on the bottom of the ocean, always afraid that some fat tourist named Vinny will step on your back.

Stingrays have their mouths and nostrils situated on their underbellies; that cannot be a pleasant way to exist.

And have you seen what stingrays look like? They’re all crazy ugly; stingray sex must be just awful.

A stingray’s sting can result in extreme pain, illness, the amputation of affected limbs, and in extreme cases, death.

Note: if you’re a condescending tour guide, they can also cause you to get punched in the face by a guy from Yonkers named Vinny.

Any animal that on a whim can cause my life to end, is by my way of thinking, a source of alarm.

Or is it possible that you could run into a stingray with a sense of humor; a stingray that finds it amusing to sting a condescending tour guide.

Either way, you should be careful before you smugly tell someone not to be alarmed. You could be dealing with a stingray with a sense of humor, or guy named Vinny without one.

stingray

My sex life is just atrocious.

Putting One Thing on Top of Another Thing

blocks,

An example of my capabilities.
(image source: wpclipart.com)

“Do you understand?” He was gaping at me the way someone would who had just tried to explain calculus to an ape. And not one of those clever apes that knows sign language, but one those apes on the nature channel that’s eating its own poop.

“Seriously?” I responded.

“Yeah,” he spat the word at me in the most condescending arrogant voice he could conjure. “Did you understand what I just explained to you?”

Note: in fairness to him, the most condescending arrogant voice he could conjure, turned out to simply be his voice.

Allow me to go back to the beginning and explain: I am referring to an experience I had as a temporary worker. When you’re a temporary worker, there are certain things that are presumed:

  • You possess the education of a 12th century manure mucker, your biggest aspiration is to one day be allowed to use a shovel.
  • You need everything explained to you at least a dozen times.
  • You need everything explained in a tone that one would use when explaining to a small child why he shouldn’t eat all the fingerpaint, and vomit into the fish tank.
  • You need everything explained to you in monosyllabic language. (Ironically, the word monosyllabic is exactly the type of word that should never be used when explaining something to a temporary worker.)
  • You need everything explained to you with accompanying diagrams. These diagrams should be drawn in crayon if possible.
  • All diagrams should be drawn in non-threatening colors such as forest green or navy blue. Bright colors confuse and disorient temporary workers (fuchsia makes us crazy).

I was busy with the important task of opening bottles of juice and dumping the juice into a barrel; there was a problem with the labeling and the juice needed to be re-bottled. (Evidently, even non-peon workers make mistakes.)

Note: I’ve promised not to divulge the name of the famous juice company where this happened. I will not welch on that promise. If I were do that I’d be a welcher. I don’t want to be someone who welchs. Was that last bit subtle enough?

I was interrupted from my duties by Rat-Faced Guy, (not his actual name) who informed me that he needed my assistance.

He dragged me over to a line where juice was being packaged in small cans. As cases of these cans progressed down the line, a machine would lift every other case and then fling the cans into the air, spilling them across the floor. Evidently, that’s not how the machine was designed to operate.

Rat-Faced Guy (probably not his name) explained to me that the malfunctioning machine would be shut down, and I would step in to take its place. As the cases came down the line in pairs, it would be my job to pick up the first case of juice, and place it on top of the second case of juice. Then I would have to do that again and again, until the machine was operating properly again.

It was at point that Rat-Faced Guy (potentially his actual name, when I say Rat-Faced Guy, people seem to know whom I’m referring to) asked me if I understood.

“So, you’re asking me if I understand putting one thing on top of another thing?” I asked him.

“Yeah.” He looked at me with his beady eyes, his wispy mustache twitching nervously.

“What if, instead of putting the first case on top of the second, I put the second case under the first case?” I proposed.

Rat-Faced Guy (probably his actual name) looked at me incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m a visionary,” I told him. “I’m like Henry Ford, Steve Jobs, or Thomas Crapper.”

“Just do it the way I told you,” squeaked Rat-Faced Guy (almost certainly his actual name).

For the next two hours, I stood in one spot, and successfully put one thing on top of another thing.

Perhaps now they will trust me with something challenging such as putting one thing next to another thing.

The sky’s the limit.

Addendum:

I know what you’re thinking: Thomas Crapper, a visionary? The toilet guy? Yes. Thomas Crapper, the toilet guy, was a visionary. Consider what it was he proposed. Try to imagine the first time he discussed it with his friends:

Thomas Crapper: You know how outhouses are filthy and disgusting places, riddled with rats and snakes.

Friend #1: Horribly dirty things, outhouses.

Thomas Crapper: And you know how we put them a certain distance from our homes because of the stench and the disease and the vermin.

Friend #1: Yes.

Friend #2: Ha, vermin’s a funny word.

Thomas Crapper: I’m thinking about moving that inside the house.

Friend #1: That’s insane.

Thomas Crapper: Maybe put it in a small room near the bedroom.

Friend #1: That’s just crazy talk. Is this because we keep making fun of your name? Because if it is we can stop.

Friend #2: Ha, Crapper is a funny name; I’m not stopping.

Thomas Crapper: We could even put it in the same room that we bathe.

Friend #1: Now you’ve gone off the deep end. Next you’ll be telling us about a machine that will allow men to fly.

Thomas Crapper: Well, there are these two brothers named Wilbur and Orville, and they have an idea.

Friend #2: Ha, Wilbur and Orville, those are funny names.

idiotprufs, rat cartoon

An uncanny likeness to Rat-Faced Guy, and possible outhouse resident.
(image source: wpclipart.com)

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