idiotpruf

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

Archive for the category “funny”

14 Mar 2017
2 Comments

Pi a La Mode and Butterflies

butterfly

MARCH 14
National Children’s Craft Day
National Learn About Butterflies Day
Pi Day
National Potato Chip Day

I am so glad I checked the National Days Calendar today. I’d be tearing my hair out if I had missed National Potato Chip Day again. It is that magical time that only comes once a year.

And today is also National Pi Day! I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Pi lately.

Well, to be honest, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about Pie lately. But National Pie Day is January 23rd and can’t wait that long for some delicious pastry goodness.

And pies are round, so you can use Pi to determine the circumference of your pie. I think I’ll celebrate by getting myself a nice blueberry pie and have 3.14 slices…a la mode.

But the really exciting thing about today: it’s National Learn About Butterflies Day.

So I’m going to impart some of my extensive butterfly knowledge to the fine readers of this blog.

  • Butterflies are insects.
  • Flies refer to butterflies as the “clowns” of the insect world.
  • Ironically, butterflies don’t like butter and they really hate flies.
  • Butterflies are attracted to nectar-producing flowers that have red, yellow, orange, pink, or purple blossoms. Much like many of the Kardashians. (Similar brain mass.)
  • Butterflies often have brightly colored wings with unique patterns made up of tiny scales. Much like many of the Kardashians.
  • Butterflies hate being compared to the Kardashians.
  • Butterflies hate it when you mistake them for moths. (Moths are the mimes of the insect world.)
  • Mothra is a giant butterfly that routinely battles Godzilla…and occasionally a Kardashian.
  • According to a gardening website, you can make butterfly snacks. (I ate twelve butterflies before I realized the website meant snacks for butterflies.)
  • Butterflies taste horrible and they get stuck in your teeth.
  • Lepidopterophobic is what you call someone with a fear of butterflies. The word sissy also works.
  • Scientists report there are between 15,000 and 20,000 different species of butterflies.
  • Scientists spend way too much time counting butterflies.
  • Monarch butterflies will travel thousands of miles to reproduce.
  • Butterfly Tinder sucks.
  • Most caterpillars are herbivores; the rest love pulled pork.
  • Butterflies have taste receptors on their feet.
  • Despite that thing about their feet–butterflies tend to be very smug.
Mothra Godzilla

Mothra battling a Kardashian…possibly Godzilla, it’s hard to tell.

You are now practically a butterfly expert.

Now you can spend the day munching on potato chips, calculating the volume of spheres, and ruminating on your newfound butterfly expertise.

You’re Welcome.

Final Note:

You may have noticed I ignored the fact that today is also National Children’s Craft Day.

Yes. Yes, I did.

bowl of butterflies

This is a bowl of snacks for butterflies. It is not a bowl of butterflies to snack on…Idiot.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, lists and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,
13 Mar 2017
59 Comments

Just to Reiterate: Get the Hell Out of the Way

waiting in line

“Is she talking about her gout again? Kill me now.”

I know I’ve touched on the subject of checkout line etiquette on more than one occasion. And I know what you’re thinking:

why are you beating a dead horse?

It’s dead.

It’s been dead.

Just stop it.

You’re embarrassing yourself.

Would you beat Seabiscuit?

Seabiscuit’s a dead horse.

Seabiscuit was an underdog that overcame adversity.

Seabiscuit’s story was inspirational and heartwarming.

How dare you.

I’d wager that you didn’t even cry at the end of the Old Yeller.

Are you made of stone?

Old Yeller was a faithful and trusted companion that had to be put down because he contracted rabies protecting his master.

Monster.

Anyway, recent events have led me to believe that I need to revisit the subject of checkout line etiquette. First generally and then specifically.

Just a few things you shouldn’t do in a check-out line, generally:

  • Haggle over the validity of a ten-cent coupon for meatless vegan sausage. I mean what’s the point, it’s just awful. Go put it back on the shelf and calmly leave the store.
  • Suddenly realize, moments after the cashier has rung up your total, that you’ve forgotten something vital; something that you absolutely mustn’t leave the store without or your wife will give you that “how useless are you” speech. Retreat to the back of the store to retrieve the overlooked item. Take an eternity because you have trouble locating the item. Return fifteen minutes later with your item and an apologetic grin. (If the item you return with is meatless vegan sausage, you will be beaten sadistically.)
  • Try to pay with a personal check if don’t have any identification. How long have you been alive on this planet?
  • Try to pay with cash only to find you’re a little bit short. Then instead of putting something back (because everything you’re getting is absolutely vital, even the meatless vegan sausage), you rummage through all your jacket pockets to find that all you have are some loose Tic Tacs and an assortment of Canadian coins. (Obviously, if you’re in Canada this is not a problem; Tic Tacs are widely used as currency there.)
  • Juggle running chain saws. There are a lot of people in close proximity.
  • Lick the face of the person next to you and scream, “I have Ebola.”
  • Get in the express line with a cart full of items.
  • Get in the express line with a cart full of items. Then lick the face of the person next to you and scream, “I have Ebola.”
  • Mime. (Miming should never be done anywhere for any reason.)
  • Loudly sing Justin Bieber songs.
  • Quietly sing Justin Bieber songs.
  • Be Justin Bieber.

And now, something you shouldn’t do in a check-out line, specifically:

Don’t wait until you’ve been completely checked out, and all your items bagged, to start a personal conversation with the cashier.

  • We don’t care that your gout has been acting up.
  • We don’t care that your child’s soccer coach won’t put him in the game. Your kid sucks deal with it.
  • We don’t care that your niece is in a loveless marriage. She shouldn’t have married her second cousin; we know it’s legal, but ick.
  • We don’t care that your gynecologist was arrested. He should have never been in that opium den, to begin with. Do you really want a gynecologist who frequents opium dens?
  • But mostly, we couldn’t give a rodent’s behind who you think should have been eliminated from Dancing With The Stars. There was a brief fleeting moment when we cared, but it passed.

If you believe the people in your general sphere desperately need to know your opinion–you’re gravely mistaken.

Thank you.

Addendum:

If you’re upset because you’ve never seen Old Yeller and now I’ve ruined it for you, I have only one thing to say: Rosebud was a sled.

rosebud

At least I didn’t reveal that Bruce Willis’ character in Sixth Sense was dead the entire time.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, lists and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
13 Mar 2017
6 Comments

Don’t Get Behind Me

Don't get in line behind me.image source: wpclipart.com

Don’t get in line behind me.

I am waiting line death.

It doesn’t matter if it’s at the supermarket, in a department store, at the theatre, in the post office, or at toll booths, whatever line I choose will come to a catastrophic halt.

If you get in a line to use the restroom and you’re standing behind me; it ends with you soiling yourself.

I once got in a line at the Department of Motor Vehicles and it started moving backward. It wasn’t long before I was standing in the parking lot, surrounded by ill-tempered drivers who began pelting me with their nearly expired licenses.

I was in a receiving line at a wedding and the couple divorced before I got to them.

If I get into a line at the supermarket, the person in front of me will spontaneously combust, bringing the line to an unnerving end, creating a horrible smoky mess, and ruining all of my dairy products.

Or the cashier will get into a dispute with a customer over the validity of a fifty-cent coupon for brownie mix. The customer will tell the cashier that she simply isn’t intelligent enough to understand the wording on the coupon. The cashier will tell the customer that she does in fact understand the wording on the coupon and that the customer shouldn’t be eating brownies anyway because she could stand to lose a few pounds. One of them will use the word bitchy. The other will use the phrase fat and bitchy. Things quickly escalate and they have to shut down the line to clean the blood off the cash register.

Or the cashier will get into a long protracted conversation about her uncle Ron. We’re all upset that he’s back in prison, but if you’re on probation you shouldn’t smoke pot in your car and drive over the speed limit…or on the sidewalk.

sloth dmv

I always get the sloth.

I was once in line behind a guy who was putting his change on the conveyor as he was counting it out. As the conveyor moved, it dumped his change down the crack in between the conveyor and the counter. As his change clanked away so did his ability to pay for the item he was trying to purchase. As it turned out, that check-out counter was an impenetrable Fort Knox from which nothing could be retrieved. The cashier could do nothing. Her boss could do nothing. The store manager could do nothing. The store owner could do nothing. Evidently, the change had entered some unearthly abyss and was gone forever.

As you can see: I’m like Typhoid Mary without the disease and death. Sometimes there’s disease, but there’s rarely ever death. Except for that time I was in line at the funeral home, but that guy was dead before I got there…I think.

There were only two people in this line when got into it. And photography was still only in black and white.

There were only two people in this line when got into it. And photography was still black and white.

huffingtonpost

I tried to get into a line in Minnesota, but they were ready for me.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
12 Mar 2017
11 Comments

Just Keeping it Real?

rude

A few posts back, I mentioned my displeasure with people excusing their ill behavior by saying, “I’m just keeping it real.”

Recently I’ve encountered several memes in this vein littering Facebook.

I'm not rude

Let us be clear about this: rudeness and honesty are not mutually exclusive traits. I would argue much rudeness is simply an expression of unnecessary honesty.

Let’s say you see a person who you believe could stand to lose a few pounds, and you say, “hey fatty, you need to lay off Ding-Dongs before you go into a sugar coma.”

Honest: very possibly.

Rude: without question.

If you meet a person you find to be less than attractive and you utter something like, “you know, the thought of dating you makes me vomit in my mouth a little.”

Honest: why not?

Rude: absolutely. (Plus, I was having a bad hair day, so it really wasn’t fair.)

If you take a bite of your aunt’s potato salad at a family picnic, and you gag, then loudly proclaim that it tastes like a monkey peed on death…well, that’s just funny.

Then there’s this meme: I'm not rude meme

Knowing and having been around some of the people who have slapped memes such as this one on their Facebook page, I can state without fear of contradiction: you and I have never been thinking the same thing. Ever!

In fact, the words that tumble from your lips tend to be quite shocking.

It’s not shocking that you’ve said them; it’s just shocking that they’re the product of an undiseased human brain.

But this is the meme I really appreciate:hoenst bitch

Let’s take those exact same words and rearrange them slightly:

I’m not just brutally honest. I’m a bitch.

Is that rude?

Hey, I’m just trying to keep real.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, inspirational and tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
11 Mar 2017

Can We Get Some Love for the Squonk?

legend of the squonk

The Squonk.

At the latest meeting of the legendary creatures.

Golem: Before we get started, has everybody that’s going to be here arrived? Nessie won’t be here today but he sends his regards. He did send us a postcard; it has a bunch of guys playing bagpipes in kilts mooning the camera. Pass it around please. Chupacabra won’t be here either, evidently he has had some trouble at the border. We’re still missing someone…Bigfoot, is your cousin coming?

Bigfoot: Yeah he’s coming. You know how he is: always showing up late.

Golem: I’m aware…wait, here he is now. Speak of the devil.

Jersey Devil: What?

Golem: Not you Jersey. I was just commenting that Yeti’s finally here.

Yeti: Sorry I’m late, the traffic was “abominable” on the way over. (He laughs hysterically.)

Bigfoot: That joke gets funnier every time you tell it.

Thunderbird: Caw!

Bigfoot: Thunderbird agrees with me.

Yeti: Fine, I’m done with the joke. So what’s so important that we had to call an emergency meeting?

Golem: Squonk has some issues that he would like to address.

Yeti: When’s he getting here?

Squonk: I’m standing right here you overgrown monkey.

Yeti: Sorry little guy, I didn’t see you there.

Squonk: That’s the problem, nobody ever sees me there. Most people don’t even know of my existence. How am I supposed to be a “legendary creature” if nobody has even heard of me?

Golem: You have to admit, your story’s a little bit depressing.

Squonk: I’m sorry. Do I depress you?

Yeti: You have ill-fitting skin that’s covered with warts and blemishes, you’re constantly weeping, and when you get upset you just dissolve into a puddle of bubbles and tears.

Squonk: That’s my legend!

Bigfoot: Consider yourself lucky that nobody notices you. It’s miserable having these idiots constantly stomping through the forest looking for you. I don’t know how many times I’ve just sat down to a nice dinner of berries and grubs, and some slack-jawed moron comes traipsing through the forest, whacking a stick against a tree because “that’s how the bigfoot communicates.” I have never in my life mindlessly whacked a stick against a tree.

Jersey Devil: Maybe people would leave you alone if you stopped leaving those big oafish footprints all over the woods.

Thunderbird: Caw.

Jersey Devil: Thunderbird agrees with me.

Bigfoot: Hey, I live in the woods and I have big feet.

Yeti: I love those beef jerky commercials: messin’ with Sasquatch.

Bigfoot: Those commercials are an affront, they make me look like a gullible imbecile.

Yeti: That’s what I’m saying, they’re hysterical.

Bigfoot: They are an abomination.

Yeti: What? So he can use that joke?

Squonk: Hey, we’re supposed to be discussing my problem! (Indistinct gurgling.)

Golem: Look at that, Squonk just dissolved into a puddle of bubbles and tears.

Yeti: Depressing.

homer simpson

Hope to see you guys next time — love Nessie.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs and tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
10 Mar 2017
5 Comments

It’s not About Me

egomania

An artist’s rendition of myself.

I’ve been asked why this blog doesn’t have an about page.

Do you think I’m an egomaniac who can’t stop talking about himself and who constantly refers to himself in the third person?

Well, idiotprufs doesn’t do that.

There are many valid reasons why I don’t have an about page and many of them have nothing to do with the outstanding warrants. Here are just a few.

  • All of the outstanding warrants. (Since when did society get so touchy about not wearing pants?)
  • When this blog did have an about page, it seemed to be a repository for diatribes of hate. I had to block Grandma from leaving comments altogether.
  • To prevent stalkers. I am constantly being stalked by women. Mostly it’s because they have subpoenas for me. But that’s still stalking.
  • Plausible deniability. If I blog about having a cousin who’s half spider monkey, I can claim it’s a different blogger who coincidentally has a cousin who’s half spider monkey. (It’s really me…don’t tell anyone.)
  • I’m trying to keep a low profile because of the alien abductions. I’m tired of all their probing. Not anal probing, they just ask me a lot of really personal questions…although most of the questions are about my anus.
  • I’m trying to reduce the number of times I get pepper-sprayed to ten or twelve times a year.
  • I’m boring. If you need to read about me to be entertained, you have serious problems. (The fact that you’re reading this blog right now is an indicator that you may have issues.)
  • I’m still being hunted by the mimes. It’s just a good thing all their weapons are imaginary. Stupid mimes.
  • I’m very reclusive. I’m like Howard Hughs without the money, fame, or achievement. It’s just me alone in a room with jars of toenail clippings.
  • Pure and unapologetic laziness. An about page is just so much effort.

I may relent in the near future and post something about myself–I’m horribly weak. (See, there’s something about me.)

Final Note: while I may have none of the achievements of Howard Hughs, I am dating Katherine Hepburn. Actually, it’s Katherine Hepburn’s ghost. She’s cheating on me with Spencer Tracey’s ghost. It’s all very disturbing.

Hepburn

“You’re no Howard Hughs–except for the debilitating paranoia.”

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, lists and tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
04 Mar 2017
7 Comments

Just a Quick Clarification

floppy eared dog

There may be some readers of this blog who have made an inference (due to no fault of my own) based upon things they think they may have read in this blog.

It is my desire to stem any disinformation that may persist and to eliminate even the most infinitesimal chance of confusion.

To be perfectly clear: I have absolutely no firsthand knowledge that any of my aunts have a pseudo-penis.

If you are laboring under the impression that one of my aunts has a pseudo-penis, that’s on you.

That being said, I have absolutely no firsthand knowledge that my aunts don’t have a pseudo-penis.

I mean, it’s statistically unlikely that any of my aunts have a pseudo-penis, but I do have a lot of aunts.

But saying that something is statistically unlikely is pretty much the same as saying it is possible.

So let’s just leave it at this: while statistically unlikely, it’s entirely possible that one or more of my aunts have a pseudo-penis…but you didn’t get that from me.

I have a cousin that’s half spider monkey. She doesn’t have a pseudo-penis, but she does have a prehensile tail. She’s a pleasant enough girl, but the way she wolfs down grubs at the dinner table is quite off-putting.

Her mother on the other hand (who may or may not have a pseudo-penis) is a horror. Remember the mother alien from Aliens? That big, ugly, drooling, murderous beast. That thing was a cherub compared to my cousin’s mother.

aliens

A cherub in comparison…and this thing doesn’t have a pseudo-penis.

I do have an uncle who menstruates. You may think that’s not physiologically possible, but he does it. He thinks nobody knows–everybody knows.

Grandma calls him a medical miracle, but that’s just because freak of nature sounds bad in the Christmas letter.

His wife has a pseudo-penis.

Correction: it is statistically possible that his wife has a pseudo-penis. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.

I trust this post has cleared things up.

And maybe certain family members will be less angry with me…they’re so touchy.

Final Note: aren’t you glad I didn’t include a picture of pseudo-penis in this post?

monkey

See how useful a prehensile tail can be.

Posted in funny, health, Humor and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
02 Mar 2017
17 Comments

A Few Thoughts About Smuggling Horse Genitals

customs

“You can stay, but horse genitals have to go.”

You may have seen an odd story in the news a few weeks ago. A story about pair of women caught trying to smuggle 13 pounds of horse genitals into the country.

Two immediate thoughts leapt into my head.

  1. When you’ve been caught smuggling 13 pounds of horse genitals, you’ve likely taken a few missteps down the path of life. Weird irrevocable missteps.
  2. Your high school guidance counselor has failed you miserably.

The two women were carrying 13 pounds of horse genitals and three liters of yak milk.

Note: if I’ve learned anything from Martha Stewart, it’s that it is a major faux pas to serve horse genitals without the proper pairing of yak milk. You can also use a lighter bodied Zinfandel in a pinch.

One of the women claimed the genitals were needed for medicinal purposes.

Evidently smuggling 13 pounds of horse genitals is a cure for not being creepy.

Horsemeat is prohibited from entering the U.S. if it’s not accompanied by an official government horsemeat certification from the country it came from.

Note: am I the only person that finds it odd that ‘an official government horsemeat certification’ is a thing?

A Customs and Border Protection officer, a Mr. Ed, summed up the incident, “it was all just so horrifying.”

Mr. Ed

A customs officer being consoled after a horrifying discovery.

Posted in funny, health, Humor and tagged , , , , , , ,
02 Mar 2017
2 Comments

In Honor of Dr. Seuss Day: Horton Hears a Chigger

chigger

You found this on your what?

So the other day these search terms popped up consecutively on my stats page:

feeling ill images

chiggers on testicles

Which comes first?

Are you feeling ill, and then you discover it’s because you have chiggers on your testicles?

Or, do you discover that you have chiggers on your testicles, and that makes you feel ill?

home alone

Not only was Kevin left home alone, but he’s also discovered chiggers on his testicles.

As I was pondering this, the progression of search terms changed to this:

feeling ill images

horton hears a who

chiggers on testicles

How different would Theodor Geisel’s story been if Horton hadn’t heard a Who on a speck of dust, but had discovered chiggers on his testicles?

Would he have been as protective of them?

Would he have been equally harassed and ridiculed by kangaroos and monkeys?

What if Vladikoff the Vulture had tried to fly away with them?

And what if the monkeys and kangaroos had tried to boil them in Beezle-Nut oil?

Just something to think about.

Think about testicles.

horton hears a who

I think I can hear something, and it’s making me itch in an unspeakable place.

 

 

Posted in funny, health, Humor, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
01 Mar 2017
62 Comments

Dear Critic

the critic

Due to recent events, I believe it’s time to dust-off this post from several years ago.

Dear critic,

I want to extend my deepest apologies to you. I know that I have failed you, as a blogger, and as a man.

I understand that my blog is not what you desire it to be.

But know this: I feel your pain.

Every time I stumble upon a blog about a person dealing with their battle with depression, I think to myself: why aren’t you blogging about pumpkins, or carving pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns, or pumpkin pie, or any gourd based pastry? How dare you blog about something that is important to you?

Every time I come across a blog about photography, I think: why so many pictures? Mountains, rivers, trees, children at play, it nauseates me? Why aren’t you blogging about foot fungus or calligraphy? Why aren’t you blogging about foot fungus, written in calligraphy? Shame.

I recently found a blog devoted strictly to the music of the Beatles. I know what you’re thinking: what about the Spice Girls? When are Scary, Sporty, Baby, Ginger, and Posh going to get their due? I have always felt that Victoria Beckham doesn’t get nearly the amount of press she deserves. You can suck up to Sir Paul McCartney all you want; he isn’t going to be your friend.

And when I find a blog about food, I think: why aren’t you blogging about your collection of toenail clippings? And if you don’t have a collection of toenail clippings, why not? All you need are toenail clippers, a mason jar, and a bit of a creepy bent. Time is wasting.

When I discover a blog about politics, I think: why aren’t you blogging about mimes…strike that, mimes suck.

You took me to task for not commenting on the Charlie Hebdo incident. You felt that, I, as a humor blogger (as lighthearted and funny as mass murder is) had a duty to stand up for freedom of speech. But isn’t freedom of speech also the right to choose what not to write about?

Note: Sorry, I was starting to make a serious point there. I will now counter it with a goofy image of baby chicks in jester hats.

Silly Chicks

That’s better.

And finally, when I come across a blog devoted to criticizing other blogs, I think: well done, you are doing yeoman’s work. Keep it up, you make the sun shine brighter.

So dear critic, in the future I will strive to do better.

Best regards,

idiotprufs

P.S. Oscar Wilde once wrote that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit and yet the highest form of intelligence. If it the case that sarcasm is beyond your grasp: you suck.

Victoria Beckham

Don’t worry Victoria, we’ll get your face out there.

 

 

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs and tagged , , , , , , , ,

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