idiotprufs

Illegal in 38 states–frowned upon in the rest.

An Explanation

In my last post, I revealed a malady brought on by the stress and anxiety of living a lie. As promised, here’s the explanation:

Adorable children's favorite, and possible tattoo subject.

Loveable children’s favorite, and possible body art subject.

In a previous post, Bees and Calligraphy, I wrote the following about bees:

They make honey, that sweet nectar byproduct without which Pooh Bear would have never gotten his head caught in a honey pot, in that adorable image by A. A. Milne. If it weren’t for that image, I’d have nothing tattooed to my left butt cheek.

This revelation elicited a myriad of responses:

  • That’s weird.
  • That’s funny.
  • That’s unusual.
  • That’s weird in a funny and unusual way.
  • That’s adorable.
  • Wait, it’s on your butt? That’s not adorable, that’s horrifying. You’ve defiled a precious childhood memory. If I ever meet you in person, I will whomp you on the head with an ax handle.
  • May I see it?
  • A.A. Milne is turning over in his grave.
  • That’s amazing. I have the same tattoo on my left breast.
  • Stop following me you creep, or I’m going to blast you in the face with pepper spray.
  • I’m going to consume alcohol until every brain cell I have containing that mental image is destroyed.
  • Ick.

Note: Upon reflection, the thing about the pepper spray is probably an entirely unrelated matter.

But I have a confession to make: it’s all a horrible lie.

I don’t have a tattoo of Pooh Bear or any other beloved cartoon character on my left butt cheek. In fact, I haven’t any tattoo of any kind anywhere on my body.

I know what you’re thinking now: has everything I’ve read on this blog been nothing but falsehoods and mindless tripe. Allow me to clear the air regarding a few items that have appeared in this blog.

  • Did a crack-head, wielding a razor blade, really accuse me of being a leprechaun: yes.
  • Did I work in a place where the foreman had a pathological hatred of raccoons because they have “little people hands”: yes.
  • Did I meet Bigfoot in a local pub and enrage him when I accused him of having chiggers: no.
  • Did I ridicule a Bigfoot hunter when he claimed the best way to escape a female Bigfoot was to run downhill, because female Bigfoot can’t run downhill due to their large floppy breasts: yes.
  • Did I subsequently interview Lady Bigfoot regarding the allegation that she has large floppy breasts: Don’t be ridiculous…her breasts were immaculate.
  • Did I receive an angry letter from, Eduardo, a Bolivian pudding maker, after I may have implied an association between Bolivian pudding and Egyptian dung beetles: no. I did, however, receive a scathing letter from an Egyptian dung beetle.
  • Was I frisked and manhandled by the police in Amarillo, Texas: yes.
  • Did I watch the greatest comeback in NFL playoff history (the Buffalo Bills’ 32 point comeback over the Houston Oilers) in a seedy bar in Amarillo, Texas surrounded by hostile patrons who resembled the cast of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: yes.
  • Was one of the patrons fondling a blood stained machete: possibly. His hands were under the table; he could have been fondling anything under there.
  • Did I once pull on to the tram line in Buffalo, New York, after mistakenly believing it to be a weird little street: yes.
  • Did I then, in an ill-fated attempt to turn around, get the vehicle wedged between the curbs: yes.
  • Did I once inadvertently wash my hair with flea and tick shampoo: yes.
  • Did I dig a moat around my home to keep out Gerald the neighbor kid: no.
  • Did I put piranha in the moat: weren’t you paying attention, there’s no moat.
  • Was I denied the sale of eggs after jokingly telling the cashier that I was going to throw them at a police car: yes.
  • Did I once anger an Aunt at a family picnic, by stating that her potato salad tasted like battery acid and death: yes. (But not as much as when I told her she had chunky thighs. The phrase “chunky thighs” is compliment in some cultures. Not in ours, but in some.)
  • Did I inadvertently set another person’s vacuüm cleaner and carpet on fire: yes.
  • Do I really have an irrational hatred of mimes: it’s not irrational.
  • Did I really smash a mooning garden gnome with a shovel because its butt was directed at my kitchen window: not that you or anyone else can prove.
  • Was I once taken captive by a crazy woman–Misery style– because I had stopped writing this blog to focus my Jersey Shore fan fiction: no.
  • Do I write Jersey Shore fan fiction: If only I had that type of ability.

Now that this burden has been lifted from my conscience, the healing can begin.

vacuum on fire

Yes. This really happened.

 

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24 thoughts on “An Explanation

  1. Follow my blog if u like pooh. @poohsbestie

    Like

  2. Life full of adventure. Too much for me at 65 now.

    Like

  3. Now that you’ve cleansed your conscience, do you want a hug? Or just an acknowledgement that now we know for sure that we can’t trust you? 🙂

    Like

  4. Spot on woth this write-up, I honestly believe this site needs far more attention. I’ll probably be returning tto reaad through more, thahks for the
    information!

    Like

  5. So sorry to report we have something in common – I once told a former supervisor I had a tattoo of the company logo in a similar locale. A lie. I’m so ashamed.

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  6. Who the h#ll bothers with the umlaut on vacuUm? EXACTLY. Move back to CHERmany, you, and take your un-Amurrican police-peltin’ potato-salad-and-gnome-hatin’ furrin ways with you.

    Like

    • I’m sorry what?

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      • I don’t understand your don’t understand. I see three interpretations for your intent. Of course, there could be others.

        1. You’re genuinely puzzled.

        Uh–on my me-phone, an umlaut appears on the second u in vacuum. Did ü not put it there? If you didn’t, my comment would have seemed from outer space.

        2. You thought I intended the remark seriously.

        Get real.

        3. You understood my intent, but didn’t think there was any humor, either in intent, execution, or both.

        Is that the kind or neutral way you respond to all your admirers who make comments with humor which is less than stellar?

        If the umlaut IS yours, please consider THIS response revised to:

        A-HA!! Zo! It is reveal-ed that the English, it is difficult for you to comprehend!

        (But, if you’re offended by the nature of the comment–If you thought I was serious, or just thought it wasn’t funny–and that is how you chose to respond,

        Like

      • Sent before editing complete: big fingers, little phone pad 😔

        Like

  7. Was it Gerald the neighbor kid or Geraldo the neighbor kid? One could make sense, the other makes complete sense.

    Like

  8. Thank you for clearing the air, you leprechaun, you.

    Like

  9. Whew! I can hardly wait for what comes AFTER the healing…lol xoxoM

    Liked by 1 person

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