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idiotprufs

the blog that made the pope laugh so hard he peed himself.

Archive for the month “March, 2019”

Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants

nerd idiotprufs ants

The Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ant. How would like to get a package of these?

In a previous post, But Seriously, I described my use of Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants when dealing with critics. When I receive criticism I feel is unwarranted, I drop a package in the mail to the critic. The package contains a colony of the ants in question. The label on the package reads: shake roughly before opening. (The only thing Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants hate more than critics is to be shaken roughly.)

Note: For criticism to reach the Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ant level, it has to really hurt my feelings; if I exhale a feeble whimper followed by a pained, why, upon receiving the criticism, you’re getting ants in the mail.

It would seem there some people out there who don’t believe that Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants are real. People who all sudden seem to be experts on Amazonian wildlife and entomology. People who say they’ve done their own research and can’t find any evidence of the existence of such an insect.

Hey people, Wikipedia doesn’t know everything.

These people claim that no self-respecting taxonomist would give an ant such a silly name.

Things are often given weird or inappropriate names. Have you ever seen a person and immediately thought to yourself: that person’s parents misnamed him; his name should be Rat-Bastard Morgan instead of Piers.

Note: my deepest apologies to Piers Morgan and his family, that was entirely uncalled for, but I really like that joke.

They also say that ants don’t sting: they bite.

Nature provides us with many oddities and exceptions: mammals don’t lay eggs, but the duck-billed platypus does. Birds don’t swim under water, but penguins do. Humans don’t shed their skin like snakes, but Hugh Hefner did. The list goes on and on.

Note: my apologies to Hugh Hefner and his family–may he rest in peace–but he was kind of a snake.

Let’s say for the sake of argument, the name Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants, is in fact, a product of my fertile if not slightly warped mind.

Who’s to say such an insect doesn’t already exist. There have been over 400 hundred new species of plants and animals discovered in the Amazonian rain forest in recent years, including a monkey that purrs like a kitten and a vegetarian piranha.

Note: the vegetarian piranha was classified as Piersus Morganus, the monkey they called Ted.

Perhaps one of those 400 hundred discoveries is an insect whose sheer nature and attributes demand it be classified as a Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ant.

Just the other day I read an article about a researcher on the Amazon River who discovered a previously unknown water fowl. The water fowl was infested with a previously unknown type of tick. The tick bit the researcher and infected him  with a previously unknown and highly infectious disease.

The disease would have incubated within his body over a period of months and the researcher would have unwittingly unleashed a devastating epidemic upon the populace.

Half the population would have suffered from the following symptoms:

  • Nausea.
  • Dizziness.
  • A rash on their butts in the shape Mickey Rooney’s face.
  • A rash on their faces in the shape of Mickey Rooney’s butt.
  • Dry mouth.
  • Itchy scalp.
  • Dry itchy mouth and or scalp.
  • All cheese will taste like wire.
  • All other food will taste like cheese, but the nasty kind like Limburger.
  • Migraines.
  • Chipmunks will throw pine cones at their heads.
  • Migraines from being hit in the head with pine cones.
  • They would have become obsessed with Kayne West and Kim Kardashian, droning on endlessly about their babies and how beautiful and perfect their lives are.

The other half of the population would have become depressed and suicidal, mostly due to the fact that the first half of the population were droning on endlessly about Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, their babies and how beautiful and perfect their lives are.

Luckily the researcher was then bitten by a common poisonous snake and died straight away.

The point being: for all you critics out there doubtful of the existence of Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants, you might just receive a package in the mail containing a hive of Raging Bolivian Biting Wasps. Remember to shake it roughly.

Addendum:

I know there are some of you out there who are doubtful of the monkey that purrs like a kitten and the vegetarian piranha. Do you think I just make this stuff up?

nerd monkey idiotprufs

Ted, the monkey that purrs like a kitten.

 

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Leprechauns Invade Speedeez Sports Bar and Grill


idiotprufs, leprechaun
North East, Pa–This Saint Patrick’s Day the small town of North East, Pennsylvania has been overrun by leprechauns. It seems a local watering hole, Speedeez, has attracted the diminutive green-clad creatures.

“They just came out of nowhere,” one patron exclaimed, “literally, they just popped out of thin air.”

Evidently Speedeez was offering a discount on drinks to anyone dressed like a leprechaun.

“I don’t know how they heard about our special all the way over in Ireland,” one of the bartenders questioned.

“We’re Leprechauns, not gnomes–we know how to use the internet,” Blinky McKnob responded disgustedly.

“You’d think having a bar full of leprechauns on St. Patrick’s Day would be a boon…but then they started drinking,” the establishment’s manager said. “We’re out of Guinness. We’re out of Baileys. We’re out of almost everything; it turns out they’ll drink most anything except scotch–something about the Scottish House of Stuart and a war in 1644. They won’t drink scotch, but they will urinate on it–those leprechauns certainly can hold a grudge.”

“Did you know Leprechauns have green pee?” One of the bartenders asked. “Well, neither did I before today. And they keep trying to pay with gold,” she said as held up a piece of gold, “how the @$#% am I supposed to make change for this?”

“Yeah, they got really drunk and started griping about what a sellout pussy the Lucky Charms leprechaun is,” one of the regular patrons said. “Then tempers really flared when another regular known as Poe referred to the leprechauns as fairies. One of the leprechauns waved his hand, said something in Gaelic and Poe just disappeared.

“It’s not really a big loss,” one of the bartenders said as she chuckled.

“I think next year we’ll just have green beer,” the manager said in exasperation.

idiotprufs, luck the leprechaun

The sellout Leprechaun himself.

Erin Go Bankrupt

leprachaun

Tweedle McBumpers before the scandle.

In a tragic tale of misplaced trust and greed, a number of leprechauns from County Kerry, Ireland have lost their life savings to an elaborate Ponzi scheme.

While most of the leprechauns have declined to comment, one leprechaun, Tweedle McBumpers, has decided to open up about the events. “It’s tragic,” Tweedle said fighting back anger. “Most of us have lost everything. No more gold. No more pot to keep it in. You know that old phrase ‘he doesn’t have a pot to crap in’? Well that’s us. There’s nothing at the end of this leprechaun’s rainbow but despair and big vacant spot where a pot of gold should be.”

tree in irleand

The sad empty spot where Tweedle kept his pot of gold.

The culprit behind the fraud was a smooth talking leprechaun named Moneybags Potfiller. Evidently Moneybags claimed to be investing in land on the east coast of Ireland, earmarked for a golf course and resort.

When several of the leprechauns ventured to the location of the future resort to check on their investment, they found nothing but an old farmhouse owned by the widow Margaret O’Malley.

She shooed them away with a broom.

“The whole thing is just so heartbreaking,” Tweedle said, “but I guess with a name like Moneybags Potfiller, we should have seen it coming.”

leprachaun sunglasses

Moneybags Potfiller living it up on his ill-gotten gold.

Beware the Ides of March…and Salad With Anchovies

ides of march

On March 15, 44 BC. Julius Caesar was stabbed to death in the Theatre of Pompey at a meeting of the senate by as many as 60 conspirators.

Note: The Theatre of Pompey was showing the remake of Footloose at the time. It was the second most disappointing part of Caesar’s day.

Upon realizing one the conspirators was his friend Brutus, he uttered the now infamous Phrase, “Et tu Bluto.”

It was at that point Brutus became enraged and screamed, “Bluto is the character from the Popeye cartoons you imbecile; my name is Brutus. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Brutus then he stabbed Caesar repeatedly.

Bluto Popeye

Bluto and Brutus are not the same. Just ask that smug tenth grade English teacher of yours.

Historians will tell you Julius Caesar’s assassination was politically motivated and the result of rising tensions between Caesar and the Senate. Historians will also tell you several Senators feared Caesar would overthrow the Senate in favor of tyranny. Historians are always blathering on about something in the past.

Well, historians are full of it.

I know the real story: everyone was just sick of Caesar forcing them to put anchovies on their salads.–anchovies are gross.

Final Note: the word assassination has the word ass in it twice. That amuses me more than it should.

Caesar salad

A delicious plate of Caesar Salad. Because there is nothing more appetizing than dead rotting fish.

Where Have the Clowns Gone?

scary clown idiotprufs

“Stop crying, Timmy, and cut your birthday cake.”

Prepare yourself for a shock–there is an impending clown shortage.

It is not possible for me to over-exaggerate the gravity of this situation.

Note: I’m sorry, if you’ve read this blog in the past, you know that over-exaggerating the gravity of the situation is exactly what I’m about to do and I going to do it wildly.

Evidently, the desire to dress-up in outlandish clothing, slather on huge amounts of make-up, and go out into public and behave in a ridiculous and childish manner, has fallen out of vogue since Jersey Shore went off the air.

“What’s happening is attrition,” said Glen Kohlberger, Clowns of America International President. He then honked his nose like a bicycle horn and hit the reporter in the face with a pie. “The older clowns are passing away and today’s youth just doesn’t want to smell like elephant crap,” he lamented.

The problems that will arise from the clown shortage are many:

  • Unable to acquire a clown for your child’s tenth birthday party, you will be forced to hire a sweaty guy in a SpongeBob SquarePants costume. Bitter that he can’t find a better job, he will go on a alcohol fueled rampage. The lasting memory of your child’s tenth birthday party will be of a beloved cartoon character being brought down with a taser and dragged away in handcuffs, reeking of urine.
  • Ronald McDonald will be portrayed by a small Latvian woman with broken English.
  • Without proper rodeo clowns, bull-riders, once thrown from the rampaging bulls, will be at the bull’s mercy. Instead of being heroic figures, bull-riders will simply be known as: those guys who used to have testicles.
  • The art of making balloon animals will vanish from the face of the Earth. (Except for balloon snakes; we’ll still have those.)
  • Mimes will rise to a position of unprecedented power. In a silent coup (See what I did there?) they will seize control of the world and rule it with an iron fist. The population will be forced to wear white face make-up and dress like Frenchmen. People will flee into the wilderness and children will weep bitterly. When opposition to their authoritarian rule surfaces, they will do that thing where they wipe away fake tears, and it will really piss you off. Society will decay beyond repair, and centuries from now, Charlton Heston will find a ruined Statue of Liberty on the shoreline. He will fall to his knees and wail: You maniacs! You blew it up! Oh,damn you! Damn you all to hell!
  • It will be bad.

Note: If you’re going to a birthday party for your child, get a monkey in a cowboy hat; you can never go wrong with a monkey in a cowboy hat.

monkey in a cowboy hat

Seriously, you can’t go wrong.

 

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