idiotprufs

Illegal in 38 states–frowned upon in the rest.

Archive for the category “funny”

Idiotprufs’ Tips for Halloween

jack-o-lanternIt’s the time of the year for spooks, goblins, witches, monsters, ghouls, and all manner of beastly and horrifying creatures…but enough about your family reunion, this post is about tips for Halloween.

Halloween Tip #1

When you’re carving your jack-o-lantern, you should try your best not cut your thumb off. But if you do happen to sever a digit: use it. Your jack-o-lantern covered with blood spatter and with a severed thumb next to it will be the hit of the neighborhood.

Halloween Tip #2

Don’t cheap out on the treats. You don’t want to be that person in the neighborhood who passes out pennies or walnuts or apples. Have you ever been pelted in the face with pennies or walnuts or apples? It stings. 

Remember: other people’s children are all dull-witted potato-faced monsters who belong in juvie, (your children, however, are precious) don’t give them a reason to egg your house.

And don’t be that guy that gives out toothbrushes; you’re just asking for house to be burned down.

Halloween Tip #3

If some of those rapscallion neighborhood kids should decide to play tricks on you regardless of the generosity of your treat giving, you need to be prepared.

There are dozens of tactics I could advise, but it really condenses to three simple words: release the hounds.

Halloween Tip #4

Always keep a good lawyer on retainer. (See Halloween Tip #3.)

Halloween Tip #5

Have no regrets.

It’s the day after Halloween and you’re cleaning egg from the side of your house, (next year those little dull-witted potato-faced monsters are getting pennies) and the lawsuits are already going forward. (See Halloween Tip #3 again.) 

You try to text your friend about your troubles, but you find texting is just one of the many things that is much more difficult without a thumb. While your severed thumb looked great next to the jack-0-lantern, a crow flew away with it almost immediately so really didn’t get the full benefit the effect. 

Halloween Tip #6

Screw Halloween.

trick or treaters

Next year you little dull-witted potato-faced monsters are getting pennies.

 

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Glass Houses

glass houseI’ve heard the saying that people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

Why do live in a glass house to begin with? It seems to me if you live in a glass house your decision making capabilities are already in question.

Do you know how hard it is to insure a house that’s made of glass? Of course you don’t–you not foolish to live in a glass house.

All it takes is one snot-nosed neighbor kid with slingshot to cause catastrophic damage. (I’m looking at you Gerald.)

And forget about throwing stones, if you live in a glass house you shouldn’t be engaging in any activity of questionable behavior; everyone can see what you’re doing.

Those slack-jawed neighbors that live across the street, sitting on their front steps all day, smoking cigarettes and sucking down Beer brand beer, already seem to know everything you do. Just imagine if you lived in a glass house.

What kind of weird and disgusting behavior do you think those people have going on in their house? You don’t know because they don’t live in a glass house.

What a stupid saying.

glass houses

My apologies to anyone who came to this post searching for information about the Billy Joel album Glass Houses. To everyone else: I just apologize in general.

 

A Lasagna-Like Substance

lasagnaThis is an actual conversation I had with person. (Seriously, I’m not making this up.)

Her: I made lasagna last night, it turned out mostly okay.

Me: mostly?

Her: the sauce was fine, I used ricotta cheese, I forgot the noodles, but it baked up nicely.

Me: (a moment of puzzled silence.) did you say you forgot the noodles?

Her: yes. But other than that it turned out perfect.

Me: but you forgot the noodles?

Her: yes.

Me: so it was just a dish of meat sauce and cheese?

Her: yes.

Me: no pasta at all?

Her: what don’t you understand?

Me: so very much about this.

Her: I forgot the noodles–it happens.

Me: I don’t think it does. I’m not sure it’s ever happened; you may be a pioneer.

Her: it was just a practice lasagna anyway.

Me: strictly speaking–I don’t think you can call that a lasagna.

Her: (Angry silence.)

Me: when you construct a lasagna you do it in layers, several of which are strips of pasta.

Her: I know how to make a lasagna.

Me: evidently you don’t.

Her: can we just drop it!

So we dropped it.

Later she confided that she had also made practice brownies which had hardened and congealed so permanently to the pan, that she had no choice but to throw the pan and attached brownies into her backyard in disgust…but at least you could call them brownies.homer cooking

What the Hell is That?

reindeeer with glowing antlers

“You’ve got nothing on me Rudolph.”

In what is being hailed as the technological breakthrough of the century, a group of Finnish scientists have created a new breed of radioactive reindeer.

Note: The Finnish are often referred to as the technological juggernauts of the world. After all, they gave us Angry Birds.

“We are the technological juggernauts of the world,” one of the leading Finnish researchers, Johannes Korhonen, stated at a recent press conference. It seems the Finnish have developed a new breed of radioactive reindeer they claim will revolutionize the world.

Here at idiotprufs I was able to secure an interview with Dr. Korhonen.

idiotprufs: So, why radioactive reindeer?

Dr. Korhonen: Frankly, we just got sick of inducing cancer in lab rats, I mean, we’ve absolutely done that to death. So we decided to move on to something bigger.

idiotprufs: That’s a pretty big jump from lab rats to reindeer.

Dr. Korhonen: It is. At first we tried it with badgers, but those things are freaking nuts. A bunch of them got loose, knocked over one of the researches, chewed his ears off, and ran away with them.

idiotprufs: Wow.

Dr. Korhonen: Then they came back and taunted him.

idiotprufs: That’s horrible.

Dr. Korhonen: Indeed. They’d already taken his ears–there was no need to say those horrible things about his mother.

idiotprufs: The badgers can talk?

Dr. Korhonen: Of course not.

idiotprufs: Then how did you know they were saying things about his mother?

Dr. Korhonen: It was in their body language.

idiotprufs: Okay? I’m just curious, why do you consider this to be an advancement that will revolutionize the world?

Dr. Korhonen: Are you serious? We have practically developed a cure for not being radioactive.

idiotprufs: Is not being radioactive a big problem?

Dr. Korhonen: Not anymore. Did you know that due to their glowing antlers, the incidents of reindeer being struck by motorists, have greatly decreased over the past year?

idiotprufs: But what about the fact that the incidents of Finnish motorists screaming, “what the hell is that?” and careening off the road have greatly increased over the past year?

Dr. Korhonen: One problem at a time.

The interview then ended abruptly when a pack of frenzied badgers chased Dr. Korhonen from the room. They seemed angry. One of them had an ear.

hans gruber idiotprufs

Dr. Johannes Korhonen, he looks vaguely like that guy from Die Hard.

Unicorns and Dennis Rodman: It’s Science

Archeologists from the Academy of Social Services of North Korea’s History Institute have made an important discovery: they have discovered a unicorn lair. (I’m not making this up) The report says that they have “reconfirmed” the presence of the lair. Apparently the ancient Korean King Tongmyong rode a unicorn.

An artist's rendition of the king's unicorn. His name was sparkle; he hated his name.image source: unicorn.com

An artist’s rendition of the king’s unicorn. His name was sparkle; he hated his name.

Why is this the first I’m hearing about this? There was nothing about a unicorn riding, ancient North Korean king, in any history book I ever read. How do leave that out?

As it turns out, this wasn’t the only bizarre revelation uncovered by North Korean scientists:

  • Unicorns are not only real, but they’re always griping about how zebras are such sissies.
  • Trix aren’t for kids; they really are for rabbits.
  • Dennis Rodman is a cyborg and his multicolored hair is magic.
  • If you catch a leprechaun you don’t get a pot of gold; you just get a lot of pot.
  • Jerry Garcia isn’t dead: he’s in Ireland and he’s really stoned.
  • Despite the moniker, Bigfoot’s feet are tiny.
  • Bigfoot hates that famous picture of himself; he thinks it makes him look fat.

Bigfoot: a victim of the freshman 15 and a poor camera angle.

  • Wile E. Coyote caught the Roadrunner years ago. He was served in an orange sauce, over rice, with sautéed spinach on the side.
  • The chicken came before the egg, but they both preceded the first chicken omelette.
  • The Great Wall of China was built by a guy just trying to keep the neighbor’s dog out of his yard.
  • Trolls don’t live under bridges; they live in North East, Pennsylvania. (You know who you are.)
  • The Mars Rover did find life on Mars. It was a weird little dude named Marvin.

“You make me very angry.”

  • And finally: The Onion was right: Kim Jong Un is the sexiest man alive.
Where's my unicorn?image source: dailymail.co.uk

“Where’s my unicorn?”

Isn’t that the face of man who needs to have his own unicorn?

And maybe a few less nuclear missiles.

He can keep Dennis Rodman.

rodman

Magic!

Lady Bigfoot Responds to Allegation of Floppy Breasts

bigfoot boobs idiotprufs

Lady Bigfoot: upset about the allegation of floppy breasts.

In a recent post, Bursting With Pride in the Great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, I shared a few tips from the Facebook page of a group devoted to Bigfoot hunting. The page’s creator, John Reed, related the following tips if you should happen to find yourself face to face with a Sasquatch:

“bigfoot tip #1 when being chased by a sasquatch run up hill if its a male .. they have an extended forehead so they have to stop offten to look up.” He adds, “if its a female run down hill they have no bras so they got big ole lady boobs and when running downhill they flop about and they have to stop to plop them over their shoulders…..”

So the first time I read this, I had a number of thoughts:

  1. Yikes.
  2. Doesn’t Facebook have spell check?
  3. Yikes again.
  4. Judging by the contents of the Facebook page, this guy probably hasn’t been anywhere near female breasts of any type for quite some time.
  5. Seriously, yikes.
  6. Shouldn’t you actually find a Bigfoot before you worry about being chased by one?
  7. I cannot overstate this: yikes.
  8. I wonder what a Lady Bigfoot would think about this?

The verdict is in: Lady Bigfoot is pissed. She is so upset, she is setting aside her reclusive nature to come forward and address the comments made on the Facebook page. In an Idiotprufs exclusive, she has agreed to sit down with me to discuss it.

Idiotprufs: So, what are your thoughts on the tips John Reed gave his Facebook followers?

Lady Bigfoot: First, of course I don’t have a bra. Where would I get a bra?

Idiotprufs: From a clothesline?

Lady Bigfoot: Do I look like a thief to you?

Idiotprufs: No ma’am.

Lady Bigfoot: What do you think would happen if were to stroll into Victoria’s Secret looking for a bra?

Idiotprufs: I don’t know.

Lady Bigfoot: People would panic. People would scream and run away. Hysterical women would call me a monster, and blast me in the face with pepper spray. Men with tranquilizer guns would show up and put me down like I was a lowly bear. They would lock me in a cage, and poke and prod at me. That’s what would happen.

Idiotprufs: Wow, that is eerily similar to my experience at Victoria’s Secret, but for completely different reasons.

Lady Bigfoot: (Glares at me.)

Idiotprufs: Sorry, continue.

Lady Bigfoot: Second, these breasts don’t need a bra; they are plenty firm. Go ahead and feel them.

Idiotprufs: Oh I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Lady Bigfoot: Really I insist.

Idiotprufs: I don’t think I…

Lady Bigfoot: Feel my breasts or I will rip your arms off and beat you to death with them!

Idiotprufs: Yes ma’am.

Lady Bigfoot: What do you think?

Idiotprufs: I think this is the most uncomfortable moment of my life.

Lady Bigfoot: (Growls at me)

Idiotprufs: They are very firm. They’re more hairy than I’m used to…but sadly not by much.

Lady Bigfoot: You let your millions of viewers know the truth about my breasts.

Idiotprufs: Millions of viewers?

Lady Bigfoot: You’re Maury Povich aren’t you?

Idiotprufs: Uhsure why not.

Lady Bigfoot: I have to get home; Bigfoot will be waiting for supper, and those grubs and berries won’t gather themselves.

Idiotprufs: That sounds nice.

Lady Bigfoot: It’s not nice; grubs are disgusting. Unfortunately it’s impossible to a get a pizza delivered to your home when your address reads: behind a rock in the woods.

Idiotprufs: I’m sorry. Thank you for your time.

Lady Bigfoot: It was my pleasure…idiot.

As you can see John Reed’s tips are simply ridiculous; if a female Bigfoot is chasing you, just compliment her breasts.

Maury Povich, bigfoot, boobs,

Maury may have never done a show about Lady Bigfoot boobs, but it’s right in his wheelhouse.

 

A Little Birthday Party Advice

deweySo you want to throw your sweet and precious child the perfect birthday party.

Note: I write sweet and precious because I’ve discovered if you refer to a person’s child as a dull-witted potato-faced brat, they tend to find offense–people are so sensitive.

Because this blog is nothing if not helpful, (I laughed a little bit there too) I’ve decided to publish a brief list of things not to do for a child’s birthday party.

Don’t hire a clown.

Clowns are evil and they prey on small children–most people don’t realize the movie It is a documentary.

Don’t hire a mime.  

Mimes will never break character regardless of how badly you need to speak to them. Whether it’s about something regarding your child’s birthday party, whom to write the check to, or if they would please stop miming inappropriate things about your wife–they won’t break character. And when they start to do that fake crying thing after you’ve become frustrated, you are forced (by law if my ballot initiative passes) to punch them in the gut.

Amazingly, they become all Chatty Cathy once the police arrive.

Don’t hire a guy in a SpongeBob SquarePants costume.

While SpongeBob is a beloved cartoon character, a guy in a SpongeBob costume is a six foot yellow crazy-faced monster that makes small children scream and pee their pants. And when it turns out the guy in the costume has warrants out for his arrest and steals, that’s just an added bonus.

Don’t invite that brat cousin.

We all have that one brat cousin with the overbearing mother (some of us have several) who just ruin everything. She yells, she throws tantrums, and she thinks everything is about her–and that’s the mother. The child is a torrent of shrill screaming misery: wrenching gifts away from her cousin as she screams mine with a voice that shatters glass, eardrums, and occasionally a human soul. She demands more cake even though her first two pieces of cake are spread over the drapes, the dog, the cat, and the inside of your couch cushions. She’s the reason your grandfather is always “losing” his hearing aide.

Also, she has a potato-face.

Don’t do the trick candles.

Don’t tell your child she can open her gifts after she’s blown out the candles on her birthday cake and then use those delightful trick candles that you can’t blow out–unless you want birthday cake smashed all over the wall. (Perhaps it’s time to concede the overbearing mother with the brat child is you.)

Just Listen.

When your charming and intelligent nephew (often referred to as brilliant by friends, acquaintances, and people who have seen him at a distance) suggests you hire a monkey in a cowboy hat, listen to him. Who doesn’t love a monkey in a cowboy hat? If you’re lucky it’ll throw a fistful of feces at that overbearing mother and her brat child. (Again, that might be you.)

Your child’s birthday party is still gong to be a disaster, there’s only so much I can do…your child is a brat.

You are welcome.

monkey

“I’ve got a fistful of feces with your name on it.”

Bursting With Pride in the Great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania

idiotprufs bigfoot

“I hope no one saw me.”

A resident of the great commonwealth of Pennsylvania has reported to police that his 1973 Winnebago motor home was vandalized by a Bigfoot. The windows and tail lights were broken out with what he described as a fusillade of rocks.

Note: isn’t fusillade a fun word to use?

In the police report the suspect was described as, “very large, brown in color, and walks somewhat hunched over.” The victim was unable to describe whether or not the attacker “was hairy” investigators added.

Evidently in an attempt to avoid discovery the ape-like creature began to hurl rocks at the Winnebago.

Note: avoiding discovery is only 8th or 9th on my list of reasons to hurl rocks at things.

In an odd coincidence, it seems the victim happens to be a Bigfoot hunter and has a Facebook group devoted to such.  His Facebook page offers some advice if you come face-to-face with a Sasquatch. Here are couple of gems, copied exactly as he wrote them:

Bigfoot tip #1: when being chased by a sasquatch run up hill if its a male .. they have an extended forehead so they have to stop offten to look up.

Note: I don’t know if the victim pronounces the T in often, but he obviously adds an extra F.

Bigfoot tip #2:  if its a female run down hill they have no bras so they got big ole lady boobs and when running downhill they flop about and they have to stop to plop them over their shoulders…..

Note: I hope that image is now seared into your brain.

Here in the great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania we are simply bursting with pride.

rock as weapon

The preferred weapon of Bigfoot.

 

 

A Permanent Cure For Athlete’s Foot (With a Few Slight Side Effects)

One test subject; look how freaking happy he is.
(image source: wpclipart.com)

I’ve finally done it.

I’ve developed a permanent and foolproof cure for athlete’s foot.

It’s brilliant in its concept, and elegant in its simplicity.

For the small cost of just $99.99, (with an unreasonably exorbitant shipping and handling cost, which I will inform of after you’ve made the purchase) I will send you my product.

The kit includes the following items:

  • A high quality hacksaw.
  • A tourniquet guaranteed to stop spurting blood.
  • A bottle of aspirin.
  • A finely crafted peg leg.

Note: For a small additional cost, I will send you the jumbo sized bottle of aspirin, you’re probably going to need it. If you should happen to have any morphine lying around the house, that would be good too.

Imagine all the ways that using my product can make your life better:

  • You’ll never again have to deal with the burning scourge of athlete’s foot.
  • You’ll never again slip on the ice and sprain your ankle. You might slip on the ice and break your neck, but you won’t sprain your ankle.
  • You’ll never again stub your toe on a piece of furniture as you stumble toward the bathroom in the middle of the night.
  • You’ll never again spend the night on the couch after yelling at your spouse/girlfriend/lodger for moving a piece of furniture.
  • You can’t “ruin” Thanksgiving by dropping a frozen turkey on your aunt’s foot (if she’s used my product).

Note: your aunt’s presence has already ruined Thanksgiving; she’s an ogre.

  • You can dress up as a pirate on Halloween.
  • Mahogany peg legs are super classy.

There are a few slight drawbacks in the use of my product; all of which, I will inform you of in tiny unreadable print that scrolls across the bottom of screen at light speed.

Some of these slight problems are:

  • Massive loss of blood can make you woozy.
  • Carpenter ants are tenacious.
  • So are termites.
  • Dry rot.
  • Anal sores. (I have no idea why this happens-it just does.)
  • Beavers might steal your leg and incorporate it in the construction of a dam. (It happens more than you would think.)
  • Woodpeckers.
  • Mole holes in the backyard become especially hazardous.
  • You can’t drop a frozen turkey on your aunt’s foot. Secretly, you really did enjoy that; she’s an ogre.
  • It cuts the exorbitant cost of sock purchases in half.
  • Christian Bale will come to your home and hurl insults at you; he’s kind of a dick.
  • Your golf game may suffer a bit. And groundskeepers tend to get really pissy about the imprints that a peg leg leaves on the putting green.
  • Splinters.
  • The snide, hey Yellowbeard where’s your parrot, remarks from your coworkers.
  • Truthfully: I have very little concern for the efficacy of this product or your actual well-being.

All I need now is approval from the FDA. Unfortunately this has been far more difficult than I had anticipated. The people at the FDA are really uptight and condescending, and they tend to throw around words like irresponsible and unthinkable, a great deal more than is necessary.

It’s been a long process, but according to one source from the FDA, all I’m waiting on now is a cold day in Hell.

My product would result in another happy customer, and a tasty appetizer.
(image source: wpclipart.com)

I have also been working on a permanent cure for jock itch. Those results haven’t been quite as promising.

(image source: wpclipart.com)

The Big Family Picnic: The Aftermath

idiotprufs nerds

A lovely family having a picnic–this is not your family.

The big family picnic has hit your community like a tsunami and is now slowly receding back into the ocean.

Your local emergency room has been taken off high alert and much of their staff has been given a well deserved vacation.

Once again your family has overtaxed their staff, frayed their nerves, and extinguished their stock of gauze, sutures and eye patches.

They’ve treated various members of your family for the following injuries, ailments, and assorted issues:

  • Contusions.
  • Abrasions.
  • Cuts.
  • Lacerations.
  • Puncture wounds.
  • Broken bones.
  • Bone bruises.
  • Minor burns.
  • Severe burns.
  • Indian burns–you have an uncle who’s a jackass. (Actually you have several.)
  • Food poisoning.
  • Alcohol poisoning.
  • Lead poisoning.
  • Radiation poisoning.
  • Smoke inhalation.
  • Bite wounds–some animal, some human, some unidentifiable, and one that appears to be from a Bigfoot.
  • Stab wounds.
  • Gunshot wounds.
  • Crossbow wounds.
  • Ax wounds.
  • One particularly gruesome wound seemingly caused by medieval mace.
  • Asphyxiation in one individual who appears to have been strangled with a garter snake.
  • One garter snake bite.
  • Several cases of acute mental distress.
  • One case of a crippling fear of barbecue implements.
  • One barbeque implement lodged in a bodily orifice it has no business being anywhere near.
  • Dysentery.
  • Scurvy.
  • The plague.
  • Acute jock itch. (Don’t ask.)

The source of many of the problems was your uncle and his trunk full of games/weapons:

  • Horse shoes.
  • Horse whips.
  • Croquet mallets.
  • Croquet balls.
  • The little hoops you knock the croquet ball through that can be used to puncture human skin.
  • Lawn darts–your family is the reason lawn darts were made illegal in the State of New York and why a similar measure concerning bocce balls is currently making it’s way through state legislation.
  • Bocce balls.
  • Softballs.
  • Softball bats.
  • Vampire bats.
  • Dueling pistols.
  • Unexploded ordinance.
  • A board with a nail through it–this has the dual purpose of breaking open pinatas and killing barn rats.
  • A big stick with a jagged point that your uncle refers to as his eye-poking stick.

Once again your aunt has brought a cauldron of potato salad with way too much eye-of-newt in it. It results in stomach cramps, vomiting, and explosive diarrhea. Also, your cousin grows a tail.

Your aunt claims she had nothing to do with the locust swarm, but it seems like a bit of a coincidence that it happens every year.

Another aunt accosts you because you told her daughter that if she ate a dragonfly she would turn into a dragon.

Note: Have you ever eaten a dragonfly? You don’t know this isn’t true.

Your uncle–the volunteer firefighter–has inadvertently set fire to himself, a pavilion, and an old-growth forest. Unfortunately your uncle was only one still standing at the end of the day.

As the big family picnic passes and dissolves into repressed memories and a series of panic filled nightmares, your only hope is that all the injuries–apart from some of the more radical skin grafts–heal before the next big family picnic.

Your family seems horrible.

I’m just saying.

locust

Doesn’t every family’s picnics involve a swarm of locusts?

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