idiotpruf

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

Archive for the month “July, 2022”

King of New York

kings crownI’ve been working on a ballot initiative for the upcoming election.

Excitingly, if my ballot initiative passes, I will become king of the great state of New York.

I must admit, there have been varied reactions to the prospect of my becoming king of New York.

The reactions have ranged from mild laughter to hysterical laughter.

But I would be a kind and benevolent king.

Sure, I’d have some people put to death, but nobody that would be missed:

  • Bureaucrats.
  • More bureaucrats.
  • Parents who allow their children to run around and scream like howler monkeys in The Home Depot. (You know who you are.)
  • People who say lol out loud instead of actually laughing.
  • This one guy named Ron who is a total dick.
  • Even more bureaucrats.

Opponents of my initiative have put forth a myriad of reasons why they think I shouldn’t be king of New York.

They throw around phrases like wildly and maniacally unhinged or dangerously and horribly unbalanced.

(Also, people who overuse adverbs need to go.)

They offer the following proofs:

  • We don’t have kings here in America–we’re not Canada.
  • They say my plans for a castle with a moat violate all kinds of zoning laws.
  • They say my plans for turrets on my castle to hold cannons, would also violate zoning laws.
  • They say my plans to imprison every member of the zoning commission are unconstitutional.
  • They oppose my plans to create a new constitution for the great state of New York that would allow me to imprison every member of the zoning commission and put cannons wherever the hell I want.
  • They claim I really can’t be trusted with cannons. (This one is fair–I will lay waste to things.)
  • They oppose my plans to declare war against Canada. (King Trudeau and I haven’t seen eye to eye for some time now.)
  • They oppose my plans to make Bigfoot the state bird. (Not everything has to make sense.)
  • They say my plans to seize the city of Erie from Pennsylvania and turn it into a maximum-security prison, while understandable, are unrealistic.
  • They claim that I am a whack-job who simply can’t be trusted with power of any kind.

While some or most of these points are valid, who cares, I want to be king.

I’m feeling very optimistic.

Addendum:  while my previous ballot initiative (slap-an-idiot-in-the-face-day) was a failure, I’m hopeful this initiative fairs better.

I still don’t understand why slap-an-idiot-in-the-face-day failed; it’s clearly needed.

Everybody who voted against it is an idiot who should be slapped in the face…and there should be a specific day for it.

I Would Wish That on My Worst Enemy

Imagine you’re listening to the following story:

So Ron was just standing there, and suddenly this llama comes bursting out of the brush, runs right past the whole group of us and bites Ron on the testicles. It was like the llama singled him out. I mean, Ron is a giant prick, but how would the llama know that?

Now the llama is just shaking Ron by his crotch and Ron is screeching in agony because that llama had some nasty jagged teeth. So then the llama lets go of Ron’s crotch and it turns around really quickly, so we’re all thinking it’s over and the llama’s just going to run away, but instead it kicks Ron in the face. Now Ron has nasty jagged teeth too.

At this point Ron’s just lying there on the ground in a crumpled whimpering mass and the llama stands over him and pees on him. Then the llama just gallops away and back into the brush like it’s proud of itself.

Then someone exclaims, “holy shit, why is there even a llama running around Jamestown, New York?”

The person then punctuates the story by saying, “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

But you’re thinking to yourself: I would definitely wish that on my worst enemy. I’m kind of glad it happened to Ron.

You giggle a bit as you imagine it happening to your worst enemy.

Then you start to think: I wonder if I could find that same llama and make it happen to my worst enemy.

It can’t be that hard to find: a stray llama in Jamestown, New York.

Then you start wondering why the word llama is spelled with two l’s at the beginning, but you quickly revert back to planning a llama attack upon your worst enemy.

You could record it and put it on YouTube; that would be awesome! Now you’re starting to get a little exited at the prospect of your worst enemy being the victim of vicious llama attack.

You realize there’s almost nothing you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy.

You’ve wished bad things on people who mildly annoy you. Like that time you got stuck on an elevator with that mime; no invisible wall is going to stop a kick to the face from a llama, you stupid mime.

You giggle a little imaging it.

You start wondering if the whole llama thing with Ron wasn’t planned all along; Ron really is a prick.

Now you’re wondering if you’re a bad person.

Then you stop wondering things, because you’ve got a llama to find.

elephants
You couldn’t find the llama, but this will do.

The Junk Drawer

messy drawer

Everybody has one of the drawers in their home that is a repository for anything and everything:

  • Assorted rubber-bands that are no longer stretchy.
  • A flashlight with no batteries.
  • Batteries.
  • A roll of unused Mr. Yuk stickers.
  • A scrap of paper with the number for the poison center hotline hastily scribbled on it.
  • That menu from the China Jade restaurant that jams the drawer every time you try to open it.
  • $2.79 in Canadian coins. (Canadians just call them coins.)
  • That cool rock you found that is shaped just like a duck.
  • Duct tape. (Not on a roll, just in a wad.)
  • A box of 20 ultra petite condoms. (My junk drawer is not your junk drawer–don’t judge me.)
  • The manual for the toaster oven you threw away four years ago after the toaster oven broke because you didn’t follow the instructions in the manual.
  • The remains of the smoke alarm that malfunctioned, caught on fire, and nearly burned your house down.
  • Irony.
  • The beginning of really angry letter you were writing to the smoke alarm company, but never finished because your pen leaked ink all over it.
  • A pen that writes, but leaks ink all over the place.
  • An ink stain.
  • An empty bottle of stain remover.
  • An expired coupon for a bottle of stain remover.
  • A pen that doesn’t write at all, but still leaks ink all over the place.
  • A pencil with a broken tip.
  • A broken pencil sharpener.
  • 14 buttons of different size, color, and styles, none of which match any article of clothing in your household.
  • A piece of metal with no discernible purpose.
  • A piece of plastic with no discernible purpose.
  • A remote control that doesn’t appear to control anything in your home.
  • A mason jar lid to the mason jar you broke.
  • A mason jar’s worth of loose nuts and bolts, none of which match.
  • Five marbles. (I lost most of my marbles years ago.)
  • A box cutter that no longer retracts, that you cut your hand on every time you look for something in the drawer.
  • A box of Band-Aids, but with only the big weird shaped ones left.
  • The bottle cap that was a winner for a twenty ounce bottle of Pepsi Free, which if you’re not mistaken was discontinued in the mid-eighties.
  • A cassette tape cover to Cargo by Men at Work–you have no idea where the cassette is. (Also probably a casualty of the mid-eighties.)
  • A self-help book about uncluttering your life…that you’ve never read.
  • A bottle of Elmer’s glue that has completely solidified.
  • A stray knob that you would have reattached if your bottle of Elmer’s glue hadn’t completely solidified.
  • A partially used box of trick birthday candles that you haven’t used since they gave your aunt Gertrude an aneurysm.
  • The Queen of England. (More Canadian money.)
  • Half of a twenty dollar bill that you refuse to get rid of because the moment you do you’ll find the other half.
  • Four incomplete decks of cards.
  • Various unpaid parking tickets.
  • A summons.
  • Stamps of various values–thank you postal service.
  • Wet-wipes: handy for wiping the pepper-spray from your eyes.
  • A restraining order.
  • AAA brochures.
  • AA brochures.
  • A bunch of useless and pointless lists.

queen in red

It’s a bit cramped, but she’s in there.

 

The Future of Policing (Fingers Crossed)

I recently happened upon this story at metro.co.uk about a citizen in Los Angeles who witnessed a brawl that was breaking out and tried to report it to a robot police officer:

image source: usaherald.com

“Cogo Guebara rushed over to the motorized police officer and pushed its emergency alert button on seeing the brawl break out in Salt Lake Park, Los Angeles, last month.

But instead of offering assistance, the egg-shaped robot, whose official name is HP RoboCop, barked at Guebara to ‘Step out of the way’.

To add insult to injury, the high-tech device then rolled away while humming an ‘intergalactic tune’, pausing periodically to say ‘Please keep the park clean.’”

Isn’t that awesome?

The person who programmed the robot is either tragically incompetent or a genius.

I choose to believe that person is a genius.

I have no idea what ‘intergalactic tune’ the robot was humming. I can only hope it was the theme song from Cops: “bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?”

Commit their crimes around HP Robocop, that’s what bad boys are gonna do.

HP Robocop is going to ignore the crime being committed and tase the concerned citizen reporting the crime. I envision the concerned citizen lying on the ground in puddle of their own drool and urine as HP Robocop rolls away humming the tune to Shock the Monkey.

At least that’s my hope.

Do I actually hope an innocent person gets tased?

Yes. Yes I do.

I’m only assuming HP Robocop is armed with a taser, but I don’t want to live in a world where HP Robocop isn’t armed with a taser. I also hope he’s programmed to aim for the groin.

There have also been reports of a second HP Robocop running into a child and a third HP Robocop falling into a fountain.

It just keeps getting better!

We need armies of HP Robocops in every community.

After scouring the local news reports here in Jamestown, NY, I found exactly zero stories about a child being runover by a robot or about a robot falling into a fountain.

I didn’t find a single story involving a robot police officer tasing someone in the groin.

It’s like I’m living in a third world country.

I just watched the latest press conference with Governor Hochul: there wasn’t a single mention of HP Robocop, it was just a big wad of useless political gibberish.

The Governor is wasting all this time on gun control when she could be bringing us HP Robocop.

Priorities!

Sure, HP Robocop probably wouldn’t stop any crime and he might even exacerbate the crime, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.

It’s time to get a ballot initiative going.

It’s time to bring HP Robocop to every community.

Local Spider has Altercation with Girl

little miss muffet

An artist’s rendition of the incident.

“It was horrifying,” the victim said pausing to catch his breath, “it was probably the single most horrifying thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It seems Mr. Chadwick P. Arachnid was innocently spinning his web when a Miss Muffet began creating a disturbance.

“She was screaming hysterically and waving her arms around like a crazy person,” Mr. Arachnid said. “Then she threw a bowl at me. Now my web is filled with curds and whey; it’s completely ruined the dead flies I had stored there.”

Miss Muffet claims it was Mr. Arachnid who frightened her. “That ugly thing scared me so badly I fell off my tuffet,” Miss Muffet told us.

“I’m ugly?” Mr. Arachnid said in disgust. “I thought that screaming giant pink bulbous face of hers was the last thing I was I ever going see…and what the hell is a tuffet anyway?”

The authorities have cautioned Miss Muffet and Mr. Arachnid to keep their distance from each other.

“No one has to tell Little Miss Muffet to stay away from that awful thing,” Miss Muffet asserted.

“Did that gargantuan thing refer to herself as little,” Mr. Arachnid said in disbelief. “She should call herself Behemoth Miss Muffet.”

It took several officers to restrain Miss Muffet after she came after Mr. Arachnid with a rolled-up newspaper.

Mr. Arachnid survived the attack but is recuperating with three broken legs.

spider

“I stand by my assertion–she’s huge.”

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