idiotprufs

Read by four out of five drunken monkeys, written by the fifth.

Archive for the month “June, 2021”

What the Hell is Going on?

drinking monkey

(image source: washingtontimes.com)

Here is an excerpt from an article from The Washington Times.

Right now the National Institutes of Health is spending $3.2 million to get monkeys to drink alcohol excessively to determine what effect it has long term on their body tissue.

I have so many problems with this:
  • Do you think it’s wise for an animal already prone to flinging it’s crap, to drink alcohol excessively? Crap flinging is the main reason I don’t get invited to parties anymore.
  • I don’t need $3.2 million to tell what the long term effect of drinking alcohol on body tissue: it’s really bad. In fact, alcohol is practically a cure for not having cirrhosis.
  • There’s already been long term documentation on the effects of drinking alcohol excessively. It was called Jersey Shore, and the results were horrifying. Odd skin discoloration, weird ceramic looking hair, annoying speech patterns, promiscuous behavior, and a general oafishness, were just some of the effects displayed during this study. And once they introduced the alcohol it got really bad.
  • What questionable methods are these researchers employing to get these monkeys to drink excessively? Do they give them low paying jobs, put them in loveless marriages, and constantly remind them of their unfulfilled potential? Do they make listen to bleak Russian poetry with its dark imagery and veiled critique of Stalinism, or worse: Sylvia Plath poems. Do they make them watch Jersey Shore reruns with the knowledge that these people are now wealthy and famous. The possibilities are all very disturbing.

And then I came upon this excerpt from the same article:

NIH also has handed out $69,459 to the University of Missouri to study whether text messaging college students before they attend pre-football game tailgates will encourage them to drink less and “reduce harmful effects related to alcohol consumption.”

We’re spending money trying to stop college students from drinking at football games. That’s like trying to stop plants from photosynthesising in the sunlight.

Meanwhile, we’re forcing alcohol, and likely Sylvia Plath, down the throats of innocent monkeys!

And how are these text messages supposed to work? Are they based on how well the warnings on the packs of cigarettes have worked? You could put the following warning on a pack of cigarettes:

Smoking can cause heart disease, lung cancer, strokes, bad breath, rabies, Ebola, explosive diarrhea, your left eyeball to pop out of it’s socket at really inconvenient times, dry mouth, and your penis may or may not fall off.

And all anyone will think is: whoa, these must be the good ones.

Why do we even bother putting people in prison when all we have to do is send out the following text message:

Dear Good People,

Please refrain from theft, assault, and most crucially–murder. Basically, don’t do anything illegal. You get the idea. After all, what are we–a bunch of drunken monkeys? lol.

Thank you for your time.

This is all very disturbing to me. I think I’ll join the monkeys and have a cocktail. I may even fling a little crap.

City Announces Sidewalk Sofa Beautification Program — gooferie

The City of Erie is currently experiencing a plethora of abandoned couches littering the curbs. To mitigate this Erie Code Enforcement has announced a sofa beautification contest. “Remember those fish? And the frogs?” asked Code Enforcement spokesman Andy Zimmerman. “It’s kind of like that.” Zimmerman said that local artists are being asked to “…drive around. […]

City Announces Sidewalk Sofa Beautification Program — gooferie

My Friend Philbert

I have a friend named Philbert who is extraordinarily supportive and helpful.

He’s nonjudgmental of all my little quirks. He isn’t bothered by the fact that I eat crayons. He doesn’t think it’s weird that I think the color fuchsia is evil. He isn’t bothered by the fact that I smell like moldy pinecones. And when the little voices inside my head tell me to kill again and I listen to them, he is shockingly okay with it.

Despite all that, there was a period when Philbert and I drifted apart.

There reasons for this were myriad.

He got heavily into scrapbooking.

I am heavily into not scrapbooking.

He spent some time living on a small island in the Atlantic Ocean.

I don’t care for people who live on small islands in the Atlantic Ocean. (I’m looking at you people of Nantucket; you and all of your filthy limericks.)

He met a girl named Rosanna. He claimed she was his soulmate. He said she had a big heart and a gentle soul and they shared a love for scrapbooking and island dwelling.

I told him she was a crazy she-demon. I advised him that she would break his heart, burn all his shit in the front yard, and stab him in the eye with a shrimp fork.

It caused a rift between us.

In the end she was a crazy she-demon who broke his heart, burned all his shit in the front yard, and stabbed him in the eye with a shrimp fork.

Not only was she a crazy she-demon who broke his heart, burned his all shit in the front yard, and stabbed him in the eye with a shrimp fork…she scrapbooked about it.

We’ve gotten past our differences and are friends again.

He’s not quite the way I remember him. He has an eyepatch now. He’s lost his taste for island dwelling. He doesn’t scrapbook anymore. Limericks make him vomit in his mouth. And when the song Rosanna comes on the radio, he pees himself a little bit.

I told him the eyepatch makes him look badass. Unfortunately, it’s hard to be badass when you’re peeing yourself to a Toto song.

But now that Philbert and I have reconnected, we can be the support each other needs.

Fuchsia, however, can go screw itself.

fuchsia
Get over yourself fuchsia–you’re just violet.

How to Deal With a Pompous Loudmouthed Prick

Everyone knows someone who’s overbearing and obnoxious.

As you were reading that sentence, somebody’s name popped into your head.

A person who’s ego is so enormous, it blots out the sun.

A person who is aggressively ignorant.

A pompous loudmouthed prick.

And on occasion, that person points their pompous loudmouthed aggression in your direction.

How do you deal with it?

Do you simply try to keep your distance?

You can’t: his bloated face encroaches all boundaries.

Do you attempt to ignore him?

You can’t: his presence is tantamount to being locked in a room with a hundred diseased monkeys all throwing their feces at your face. Some would argue his presence is worse.

I have a solution that is guaranteed to be successful: shoot the pompous loudmouthed prick in the face with a crossbow.

It’s simple. It’s elegant. It’s crazy fun.

Once a person has been shot in the face with a crossbow, their primary concern immediately becomes the fact that they’ve just been shot in the face with a crossbow.

It takes an amazingly short amount of time for the pompous loudmouthed prick’s bloviating to transition to: “Holy shit, you’ve just shot in the face with a crossbow. I’m in a ridiculous amount of pain! There’s so much blood! Why are you laughing?”

Note: it’s probably best not cackle hysterically as the pompous loudmouthed prick bleeds out, but that’s entirely up to you.

I know what’s going through your mind right now: if I shoot somebody in the face with a crossbow, won’t there be ramifications?

Maybe. You probably won’t get invited to as many parties.

But do you really want to go to parties where pompous loudmouthed pricks aren’t being shot in the face with a crossbow?

Of course you don’t–nobody wants that.

I hope reading this post has been an aid to you; I know writing it has helped me.

The crossbow: dealing with loudmouthed pricks since the Middle Ages.

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