Prince Charming Charged With Sexual Harassment
Another post from Gooferie.
idiotpruf
The blog that prevents scurvy…as long as you eat orange slices while you read it.
Archive for the category “funny”
Black Friday: You’re not Doing it Right
If you haven’t been bitten in the face, you’re not doing it right.
Black Friday: the day even genteel old ladies become MMA cage fighters.
Remember: if you have to commit a few misdemeanors and a stray felony or two in the act of acquiring Christmas gifts, it’s perfectly justifiable.
If you’re not engaging in activities that are at the very least, ethically and morally dubious, you’re heart just isn’t into it.
It’s called Black Friday for a reason. It’s not called Rosy Red Cheery Friday, you pansies.
If you’re not out there causing pain, you’re not doing right.
I have a few helpful tips for Black Friday:
- The first item in your shopping cart should be a meat tenderizer–you need quick access to a weapon that you can later claim to the authorities, was just an item on your shopping list.
- Beware of air flow before pepper-spraying a fellow shopper/combatant, you don’t want any of that stuff drifting into your own eyes–it really stings.
- When grappling with an elderly person over an item, don’t hold back just because they appear to be having a heart attack, in my experience they are faking it at least 38% of the time.
- Don’t be influenced just because a mother is with her child. That child is either a prop meant to endear sympathy, a diversion to distract you, or it’s an attack dog that she will sic on you the moment you get to close to an item she is after. (Little kids are vicious and they have really sharp teeth.)
- Bite wounds from small children should be attended to immediately–you have no idea what kind of diseases those filthy little potato-faced brats have.
- Finally, before wrapping a gift intended for a loved one, be sure to remove the price tag or any blood spatter that may be on the item. It’s just rude to give a gift with the price tag and or incriminating DNA still on it.
Remember: the important thing about the season is that you get what you want at the expense of your fellow man.
Final Note: make sure you keep the receipts; that gift you stabbed another human being in the face to get, will likely be returned.
And you’ve cleaned the blood from it, it makes a great gift.
Purple Pilgrims and the Death of Artistic Choice
The way Pilgrims are supposed to look…if you have no creativity.
As a child you learn many lessons:
- Regardless of how far your garden hose sprays, you’re still too close to the hornet’s nest.
- You never want to discover the quantitative value for the phrase “mad as a hornet.”
- Regardless of how sturdy it seems, an umbrella is not an adequate substitute for a parachute.
- Your cousins lie.
- You can be lying in a crumpled heap, several bones broken, some of them relatively important, and the first thing any adult will think to say is: “look at what you did to my umbrella.”
- Even though most varieties of snakes are not venomous, you still don’t want them to bite you.
- Convincing your cousin to let a snake bite him so that you find out whether or not it’s venomous, seems like a good idea, but it will really piss-off your aunt.
- Did I mention cousins lie.
- Never utter the phrase “sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never harm me,” to someone who is in possession of sticks or stones. In the savage jungle of playground justice, you will be pelted with a barrage of sticks and stones.
- When adults say cheaters never prosper, they’re full of it. Cheaters prosper all of the time, mostly because they’re cheating.
- Don’t melt Play-Doh on the stove. What seems like a voyage of scientific discovery to you, is just wanton destruction to some people.
- Burning Play-Doh emits a noxious smoke.
- Smoke alarms are startlingly loud.
- Melting crayons on the radiator is fun, until your mom finds them.
- And finally: artistic creativity is not always welcomed.
It happened when I was a first-grader at R.R. Rogers Elementary School in Jamestown, NY.
Our class was making a Thanksgiving Day mural from construction paper. We were broken into groups, my group was tasked with making the Pilgrims.
We immediately found there to be a dearth of orange construction paper, the color used to make the Pilgrims’ faces and hands.
I made a command decision: we’ll use purple construction paper for the Pilgrims faces and hands. “It’ll be avant-garde,” I said.
Note: I’ll bet you don’t think a six-year old would use the word avant-garde. It’s my story, and I’ll tell it the way I want.
Tracy the tattletale strongly objected and ran to inform the teacher, (Tracy was such a conformist) but as a renown tattletale, the teacher simply told her to hush, and just work with the others.
Note: not only was our group saddled with Tracy the tattletale, we also had Keith the paste-eater. It was a nightmare.
We completed our project and handed it in with a great sense of pride and accomplishment.
Our teacher was displeased. It’s difficult to overemphasize just how displeased she was.
“They’re purple,” she shrieked, as if we were a bunch of colorblind idiots.
“We know they’re purple,” we told her, “we’re not kindergarteners.”
As it happened, the mural was going up on the wall for a big parent/teacher thing that night. She’d left that bit of information out of the instructions.
Note: on the heels of Halloween, and our pumpkin making spree, she should have known we’d be low on orange construction paper, which brings me to another important lesson learned: when at all possible, deflect blame.
It was the end of the day, and there was no time to do anything about it, so up they went.
In the end the parents were simply amused by the purple Pilgrims; it seems adults really don’t expect a lot from six-year old children.
Addendum:
I wonder if Salvador Dali’s teacher criticized him for drawing everything all floppy.
At least he didn’t have the gall to make Pilgrims purple.
The Prodigiously Powerful Potentate of Pennsylvania
Election day has come and gone and my ballot initiative to become King of Pennsylvania has failed miserably. If I am to be honest, it probably had little chance of passing.
Exit polling revealed some the reasons for the initiative’s poor showing. Respondents said the following:
- Who?
- Is that the idiot who’s digging the moat around his house?
- Seriously, who?
- I think I pepper-sprayed that guy once.
- I thought that was a joke–I voted yes. What the hell have I done.
- Man these genital warts really itch…sorry, what was your question again? Are you sure you don’t want your pencil back?
- Of course I voted yes; I think it’s a brilliant idea. Besides, the voices in my head told me to vote yes. The voices usually just tell me to kill.
Upon receiving only .0001 percent of the vote, (myself and couple of drunk guys) I’ve decided to change my tactics: I will take the state by force.
Once I have seized control of the state I will implement the following changes:
- I shall be referred to as: The Prodigiously Powerful Potentate of Pennsylvania.
- Anyone who doesn’t refer to me as The Prodigiously Powerful Potentate of Pennsylvania, will be incarcerated in Erie Penitentiary.
- The city of Erie will transformed into a maximum security penitentiary that will hold the most vile of criminals: murderers, violent felons, cannibals, mimes, thieves, and people who drive slowly in the passing lane. (Seriously, can’t you see that you’re screwing up traffic?)
- I will make Bigfoot the official bird of Pennsylvania. (Of course it makes no sense!)
- I will open a tattoo parlor and I will tattoo people with dreadful incompetence and when they complain, I’ll just say, “I’m not really a tattoo artist am I?”
- I’ll put wifi in every building in the state, but only I will know the password.
- Every hour of the day will be happy hour.
- Every first born child will be named Finster–boy or girl.
- My daughter, Finster, shall be referred to as The Prodigiously Powerful Princess of Pennsylvania. (Her close friends will call her Sally.)
- I shall deal with any person who says “lol” out loud in lieu of actual laughter, with an iron fist.
- I will have an iron fist constructed.
- I will seize control of the Amish Mafia. (And they won’t be able to stop me–I’ll have an iron fist.)
- Every road leading into Intercourse, Pennsylvania will be renamed Foreplay Avenue.
- Every road leading from Intercourse, Pennsylvania will be renamed Faked Orgasm Avenue.
- And most crucially: Ground Hog Day will be replaced with Red Panda Day. (Red Pandas aren’t afraid of their shadows, they pee on them.)
If all goes well, I may annex West Virginia.
West Virginia’s state bird…for now.
Poop Flinging Monkeys and Origami Condoms
He’s right-handed–make a note of that.
A while back, I wrote a post entitled, What the Hell is Going on, detailing the National Institute of Health’s spending of $3.8 million to make monkeys alcoholic. (The amount spent on monkey rehab is still unreported.)
The Daily Mail has now reported another list of bizarre NIH spending:
$2.4 million to develop an ‘origami’ condom.
I’ve always felt the biggest problem with condoms is that they’re not in the shape of a swan. They’re just too easy to use; stopping to remove the condom from its package and apply it without losing the ‘moment’ is just too simple; why not also have to fold it into the shape of a dragon.
$939,000 to determine that male fruit flies prefer younger female fruit flies.
Researchers have determined that this is caused by a drop in hormone levels as female fruit flies age, but we know that’s a load of crap.
When you have a 24-hour lifespan, that midlife crisis hits you fast and hits you hard. It’s about noon, and you’re flying around a wastebasket containing a discarded apple core when the realization strikes: my life is half over, and I haven’t even had lunch yet.
You buy an unpractical sports car, start dressing inappropriately for your age, you get a couple of piercings and a tattoo that reads: forever young.
You dump your twelve-hour-old wife for a nubile six-hour-old.
You’re balding, you have a paunch, your behavior is embarrassing, and tomorrow you’ll be dead.
I believe my assessment is more accurate, and it costs $939,000 less.
$592,000 to determine that chimpanzees with the best poop-flinging skills are also the best communicators.
I think I can write without fear of contradiction: if you address someone by slapping a fistful of your feces in their face, you will have effectively gained their undivided attention.
However, be prepared for that person to subsequently communicate their feelings…violently.
$117,000 to learn that most chimps are right-handed.
Couldn’t the researchers from the previous study have just made a note of which hand the chimps were throwing their feces with; if you’re going to do something as important as throwing your feces, you’re not going to do it off-handed.
$325,000 to learn that marriages are happier when wives calm down more quickly during arguments with their husbands.
This is like doing a study to determine that fire is hot.
The real question is why wives in some marriages calm down more quickly during arguments. I’m willing to bet it’s because husbands in those marriages, during arguments, don’t say things like:
- I don’t know why you’re acting so crazy.
- I think you’re overreacting to that remark I made about your acting crazy.
- Can’t this wait until the game’s over?
- Who cares what your friends think; it’s my opinion that matters.
- Sure those jeans make you look fat. But if I wanted a skinny wife, I would have married your sister.
This study also showed that marriages were utterly unaffected when the husbands were the ones who became calm more quickly. This just proves two things that everybody already knew:
- Women just want men to understand why they’re upset and empathize with them.
- Men don’t care; we just want to drink beer and watch football without all the noise.
$832,000 went to learn if it was possible to get uncircumcised South African tribesmen into the habit of washing their genitals after having sex.
Note: is this what the couples in the previous study were arguing about? That makes sense to me.
Let’s be clear about this.
This wasn’t an attempt to get uncircumcised South African tribesmen into the habit of washing their genitals after having sex.
This was a study to learn if it was ‘possible’ to get uncircumcised South African tribesmen into the habit of washing their genitals after having sex.
Let me save you $832,000: yes, it’s possible.
Anything is possible. It’s possible to be struck by lightning. It’s possible or win the lottery. It’s possible that I’ll grow to like mimes.
Note: You’re thinking that the last item on the previous list isn’t possible. If you gave me $832,000 to like mimes, I would like me some mimes.
And how do they know uncircumcised South African tribesmen don’t wash their genitals after sex? It feels like something creepy has been going on there.
Note: perhaps uncircumcised South African tribesmen would be more conscientious of genital hygiene if they didn’t have these damned origami condoms they have to fold into the shape of a chrysanthemum.
$181,000 to study how cocaine use ‘enhanced’ the sex drive of the Japanese quail.
Why? Just Why?
It’s always been my understanding that Japanese quail are a randy bunch, to begin with; they don’t really need a nudge to have a go at it.
I think it’s a scam. I think somewhere in a seedy bar, there’s a sweaty researcher with dilated pupils and a runny nose, chatting up women, saying things like:
- Hey baby, want to come back to my lab and check out my Japanese quail.
- I’ve got cocaine; you wouldn’t believe what those idiots at the NIH will believe.
- I don’t need a grant to research you.
- I can fold a condom into the shape of a Japanese quail.
My only hope is that they put those cocaine-addled researchers in the same rehab center as the drunken, poop-flinging monkeys.
Addendum:
Who am I kidding? Mimes suck–no amount of money can change that.
I could do that with a condom.
Elizabeth Gomez: Inappropriate Sentiments for Greeting Cards
I find all of these to be completely appropriate.
Birthday: It’s Your Birthday…I slept with your grandmother. We’re getting married.
I’m Sorry: For sleeping with your grandmother, marrying her, and stealing away your inheritance. Love from Cabo!
Anniversary: Happy Anniversary to the Man I Love…I hope my husband never finds out. LOL!
Happy Easter: Praise be to the Lord, He has Risen…ALL LAMBS SHOULD DIE! Then sprinkle with rosemary and thyme for a delicious dinner celebrating Christ.
Congratulations: You’ve graduated high school!…Now, try to get through college without a cocaine addiction.
Thank You: Thank You…for giving me something that will be in next month’s yard sale.
New Baby: God has blessed you with a baby…Let’s hope your wife doesn’t drown it.
Get Well Soon: May God bless you with a speedy recovery…but then I hope you get hit by a car when you leave the hospital because I love watching you suffer.
Thinking of You: I’ve been thinking of…
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A Simple Solution
The neighbors from across the street.
Do you have neighborhood kids whose typical daily behavior allows you to describe them, without fear of gratuity or contradiction, as vicious rampaging beasts?
Do you have neighborhood kids who trample your rose bushes?
Do you have neighborhood kids who kick over your garden gnomes and pee on them?
Of course you do.
Do you also have slack-jawed dull-witted neighbors who sit on their front porch all day and intently watch everything you do as they suck down bottles of Mad Dog 20/20 and smoke hand rolled cigarettes?
Do these neighbors frequently come over to your house to complains about things?
Do they complain that the squirrels living in the pine tree in your backyard make too much noise with their incessant chittering?
Do they complain that these squirrels keep dropping pine cones into their yard in a defiant and cocky manner?
Do they also claim the squirrels are stealing their mail and even responding to some of it?
Do you have neighbors who have done an enormous amount of hallucinogenic drugs in their life?
Of course you do.
Are you sick of buying raffle tickets every time someone in town wants to send their kid to cheerleader camp?
How many camps does it take to learn to be cheery?!
I have a simple solution to your problem: a moat!
For only $99.99 you can receive a complete do it yourself moat installation kit.
The kit includes:
- A shovel.
- A garden hose.
- A piranha starter kit. (One male and one female…hopefully, it’s hard to tell.)
- Detailed instructions on how to properly use a shovel and a hose without inadvertently trapping yourself in a mud filled hole…it happens to people!
And when you’re not using the shovel to dig the moat, it can be effectively used to whomp undesirable visitors over the head. (You’ll probably have to deal with some mealy-mouthed guy from the borough, droning on and on about what residential properties are or aren’t zoned for.)
So order now and you too can know the security of your own moat!
Drawbridge not included.
Handy tool/effective head whomper.
Glenwood Residents Concerned Common People Will Rent Neighborhood House
Another post from Gooferie.
Members of the Glenwood Association are expressing concern that a house in their neighborhood is being rented out to people who can’t afford to buy a house there.
“This is very unsettling,” said Glenwood resident Ron Cokun, “You should see some of the cars these renters are driving. Not one Mercedes or BMW – and some of the cars are over three years old!”
Peeking out her window as a car pulled into the driveway of the house in question, neighborhood resident Paula McMorris said, “You can tell by just looking at their hands that these people do manual labor for a living. My parents didn’t give me every advantage in life so I could live in a neighborhood with people like that!”
Board member Tom C. Baldt agreed, “There are other parts of the city where these renters would feel more comfortable, being around their own kind. Why can’t…
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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.
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 you 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?”
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.
Magic!
Lady Bigfoot Responds to Allegation of Floppy Breasts
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:
- Yikes.
- Doesn’t Facebook have spell check?
- Yikes again.
- 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.
- Seriously, yikes.
- Shouldn’t you actually find a Bigfoot before you worry about being chased by one?
- I cannot overstate this: yikes.
- 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: Uh…sure 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 may have never done a show about Lady Bigfoot boobs, but it’s right in his wheelhouse.
idiotpruf 