idiotpruf

The blog that prevents scurvy…as long as you eat orange slices while you read it.

Archive for the month “March, 2018”

Mayoral Edicts of Mortal Consequence

idiotprufs, death is forbidden

If it’s on a sign, you must obey it.

It’s been a while since I first reported, Guilio Cesare Fava, the mayor of a Falciano Del Massico ordered the residents of the small town in southern Italy not to die. He stated that there was no room in the cemetery, therefore all residents were ordered by official edict, to refrain from entering the afterlife until the proper permits could be obtained and provisions made for a new resting place.

He also reportedly said, “death is depressing and icky and we’ll have none of it around here.”

With the combination of red tape, the propensity for governmental committees to move forward with the pace of an Icelandic glacier and the confusion manifested by the fact that nearly every member of Falciano Del Massico’s town council is named Luigi, the situation has shown little improvement. Compounded with the fact that some of the residents of Falciano Del Massico have taken it upon themselves to violate the mayors edict, things have grown even more dire.

“It’s just so frustrating,” Guilio said. “Just the other day I was standing in line at the market and the guy in front of me just dropped dead…the gall of it.”

Violators of the mayors edict have been placed into wooden boxes and buried in the ground. The punishment seems harsh, but law and order must be maintained.

 

idiotprufs, grim reaper

“Edict? I have a job to do.”

Local Kool-Aid Stand to Move Operations to Fort Worth — gooferie

Citing rising labor costs, ten-year old Kool-Aid stand owner Katie Nelson has decided to move her entire operation to Fort Worth Texas. “A glass of Kool-Aid costs 50 cents, said Katie. “I’m paying my little brother Mikey five cents per glass he pours, and it’s killing me. The labor market in Fort Worth is different; […]

via Local Kool-Aid Stand to Move Operations to Fort Worth — gooferie

Sick and Tired

glaring look

“What’s wrong with you?”

I am sick and tired of people who think they are better than me.

People who think they are better than me just because they don’t eat crayons–there’s no law against eating crayons.

Do you know what all serial killers have in common: they don’t eat crayons. They occasionally eat people, but never crayons. Would you prefer I went around murdering people and eating them? I’ll bet you would because you’re all judgmental that way.

I’m sick and tired of people who think they are better than me just because they’ve never slapped a mime in the face–there’s no law against slapping mimes in the face.

Okay, there is a law against slapping mimes in the face–but there shouldn’t be! When did this country become the type of fascist police state where you can’t slap a mime in the face?

I’m fed up with those of you who think you’re so superior just because you’ve never licked a toad and then urinated on a police car. Police cars are inanimate objects: they don’t care if you urinate on them.

The police officer gets a little angry when you urinate on him.

It makes the toad furious.

And so what if I like to spend my evenings skulking in a dimly lit room, chugging bottles of Orange Jubilee Mad Dog 20/20, eating from a 64 pack of Crayola Crayons, with the B-52’s greatest hits blaring at full volume on the stereo as I fingerpaint pictures of giraffes and other even-toed ungulates on the walls.

Sometimes I do it dressed up like a rodeo clown.

There’s nothing weird about any of that…except for listening to the B-52’s–I shouldn’t do that.

Think about this: if I didn’t do weird and unspeakable things this blog wouldn’t even exist.

I should probably stop.

mad dog 20/20

Perfectly paired with Crayola brand dandelion crayons.

Just Stop Talking!

Bad decision sign

This conversation actually happened at a place where I worked, involving myself, a female supervisor, and a coworker named Bill who makes very questionable decisions.

Supervisor: I think I should go on a diet and shed a few pounds before summer.

Bill: You don’t need to lose weight; you’re pleasantly plump.

(Several moments of painfully awkward silence.)

Supervisor: I’m what?

Bill: you’re pleasantly plump.

Supervisor: I’m plump am I? Plump is what I am? I’m plump?

Bill: no, you’re pleasantly plump.

Me: (whispering discretely in Bill’s direction) stop saying the word plump, dude.

Supervisor: so my plumpness is pleasant to you?

Bill: I like a girl with meat on her bones.

(Another long and horrifying awkward silence.)

Me: wow, I can’t believe you thought the word meat would be helpful.

Supervisor: so I’m plump and meaty. (turning to address me) Do I look pleasantly plump to you?

Me: (frightened): pleasant is certainly not a word I would employ at the moment.

Supervisor: (growling) but am I plump?

Me: NO!

Bill: There’s nothing wrong with having some junk in your trunk.

(She literally became so angry she couldn’t speak.)

Me: you really need to stop all of the words that are coming out of your mouth, Bill.

Bill: (holding his hands wide apart) but I like women who have…

Me: STOP!

I can only guess at how Bill was going to finish that sentence; I am certain it would have resulted in his homicide.

The supervisor tortured Bill for weeks, screaming “watch out, there’s fat coming through,” every time she walked past him.

It was funny–for me.

The moral of this story: don’t be a dumbass.

Christmas turkey

Remember: plump and meaty is fine when describing your Christmas Turkey, but not when describing your boss.

3 Run Over By Pay It Forward Truck — gooferie

Tragedy struck today as three people were struck by the Pay it Forward Truck. The three victims were running to the truck to be the first one to touch it, thus earning the $300 prize. The accident happened at mile marker 35 on Interstate 90. All three victims were taken to UPMC Hamot with undisclosed […]

via 3 Run Over By Pay It Forward Truck — gooferie

Holy Crapper

outhouse in the woods

In a previous post I listed the name Thomas Crapper as a visionary with the likes of Henry Ford and Steve Jobs.

I know what you’re thinking: Thomas Crapper, a visionary? The toilet guy?

Yes. Thomas Crapper, the toilet guy, was a visionary. While Thomas Crapper didn’t actually invent the flush toilet, his innovations regarding plumbing, sanitary fittings, and improvement of the toilet were responsible for indoor bathrooms.

If you don’t think that’s visionary, just try to imagine the first time he discussed the possibility with his friends:

Thomas Crapper: you know how outhouses are filthy and disgusting places?

Friend #1: yes. Nasty business, outhouses.

Thomas Crapper: and you know how we put them a certain distance from our homes because of the horrible stench, not to mention the disease and the vermin?

Friend #1: I certainly do.

Friend #2: ha, vermin’s a funny-sounding word.

Thomas Crapper: I’m going to propose moving it all inside the home.

Friend #1: that’s insane.

Thomas Crapper: I’m thinking we could put it in a small room near the bedroom.

Friend #1: is all this crazy talk because we keep making fun of your surname? Because if it is we can stop.

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

Thomas Crapper: I’ve come up with this innovation, I’m going to call it: the floating ballcock.

Friend #2: HA! That’s a funny-sounding name–you are the gift that keeps on giving, Thomas.

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-sounding names.

wright brothers Kittyhawk

“I’ll bet we could put a toilet on this thing.”

Dear Disgusting Swine

dirty pigDear Disgusting Swine,

In a previous post, you detailed your disappointment in relation to the Crayola company’s decision to discontinue the Dandelion crayon in their 24-pack of crayons. It seemed your distress stemmed from the fact that you find Dandelion crayons to be the tastiest of the colors available in the Crayola 24 pack.

You disgusting swine.

Your assertion is absolutely ridiculous and the height of irresponsibility. But being a fair-minded person, I decided to eat a 24-pack of Crayola crayons before composing this letter.

It was disgusting, you pig-swine.

But just to ensure absolute certainty in my position, I ate a second 24-pack of Crayola crayons: it wasn’t as disgusting as the first 24-pack, but it wasn’t good.

As I began to write this response, I snacked on a third pack of 24 Crayola crayons. Admittedly some of the colors are growing on me: Yellow-Orange, in particular, has a refreshing citrusy tang, but Dandelion is still awful.

You filthy disgusting pig-swine.

After several days of consuming crayons, I have come to an unswayable conclusion: Dandelion is the most offensive of the colors available in the Crayola 24-pack of crayons. In fact, the only thing I’ve ever tasted worse than the Dandelion Crayola crayon is my aunt’s potato salad, and that tastes like a diseased monkey peed into a vat of battery acid and death.

In conclusion: you are ignorant filthy disgusting pig-swine. (And you probably smell like moldy pinecones.)

Best regards,

Ron Smith, Director of Erie County Health Department.

dandelion crayon

Dandelion has been retired by Crayola and is now living in Boca Raton, Florida.

Putting One Thing on Top of Another Thing

blocks,

An example of my capabilities.

“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 of those apes on the nature channel that eats 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 was just his voice–the fact that he resembled a rat didn’t help.

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 about you 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 finger paint 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 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 that point that Rat-Faced Guy (potentially his actual name, when I said Rat-Faced Guy, people seem to know to whom I was referring) 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–except for stacking things: two is the limit for stacking things.

idiotprufs, rat cartoon

Rat-faced guy having lunch.

Gooferie

How can drinking lead to good health? That’s a question that Peter Tompkins, MD, has an answer for. “Most drinkers are deficient in Vitamin D, which comes from sunlight,” says Dr. Tompkins. “That’s why the city of Erie’s Block Parties are good. Instead of drinking in a dark bar, you can have your booze and […]

via Thursday Block Parties a Great Way for Alcoholics to Get Sunshine, says Doctor — gooferie

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