idiotprufs

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Archive for the category “Humor”

Burning Down the House

House on fire

So I recently stumbled across a news story that detailed how a man in Holland Township, Michigan, accidentally set fire to his apartment.  The fire spread and destroyed eight other apartments in his building and damaged two dozen other units.

When he set fire to his apartment, he was doing something that some might describe as ill-advised. Others would say it was foolish. But to most of us, it was an act of downright stupidity.

What was it that he was doing when he set fire to his apartment?

The following is a list of possible things the man in Michigan was doing when he started the fire.

Which one do you think is the real story?

  1. After hearing for years that you shouldn’t microwave metal–he wanted to find out why.
  2. After having trouble getting a fire started in the fireplace, he thought that a generous amount of gasoline would aide the proceedings.
  3. His friends refused to believe that he could spit Bacardi 151 and light it on fire. He simultaneously proved his friends wrong, and relieved them of their eyebrows.

    alcohol fire

    “Stand closer–what could possibly go wrong?”

  4. In an experiment to find out exactly how fire-retardant his new camping gear was, he doused it with kerosene lit it on fire. It wasn’t nearly as fire-retardant as he had hoped.
  5. Feeling a little peckish and having developed a sudden craving for squirrel, he attempted to burn the fur off a squirrel with a propane torch, in preparation to cook it. He inadvertently sets fire to the deck of his apartment.
  6. He attempted to make a homemade explosive device. If Michael Westen’s character on the television show Burn Notice can do it, how hard can it be? He was successful…in some regards.burning down the house
  7. Baked Alaska is fun in the restaurant when done by a professional chef. Not as much fun when done at home by an oaf.
  8. While trying to contain the Baked Alaska debacle, he discovered to his dismay, the words inflammable and flammable stupidly mean exactly the same thing.idiotprufs
  9. A “scientific” experiment, designed to find out if he could melt glass on his stove fails. He does however melt a great many things that day.
  10. Despite the explicit warning from the guys on Mythbusters, he tried it at home anyway.idiotprufs
  11. Hoping to enhance the effectiveness of bug spray on a wasp’s nest, he decided to light the spray on fire. It worked: the nest was destroyed, along with half his apartment building.

    “I can’t believe that didn’t work.”

  12. He’s just a huge Talking Heads fan.burning down the house

So what do you think?

If you don’t feel like guessing, here’s the story: nbcnews.com.

 

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Spot ‘n Me Make an Album — Gerbil News Network

It’s been a long winter without much of a spring in New England, and I was beginning to get worried about the malaise that Spot–the dog puppet you may remember from Pets.com commercials–had fallen into. He’s usually a chipper little chap, but lately he’s been taciturn . . . phlegmatic . . . distrait; and those are just […]

via Spot ‘n Me Make an Album — Gerbil News Network

Fiat Panda driver discovers he’s very unlikely to breed — The Daily Squabble

QUIRKY little motor not exactly attracting mates. Gavin Rowlocks, a Fiat Panda owner, has been very disappointed by the level of female desire his vehicle arouses. “I thought women loved cute creatures,” complained Gavin. “How can they resist a car that resembles an endangered giant bear from behind – right down to its adorable ear-like […]

via Fiat Panda driver discovers he’s very unlikely to breed — The Daily Squabble

The True and Accurate Historical Story of Limburger Cheese

limburger cheese

The delightful aroma of feet.

There is one salient fact about Limburger cheese: it is just awful. The only time I would need Limburger cheese, would be if I needed something that smelled like death and the smell from my giant pile of opossum crap just wasn’t enough.

The bacterium used to ferment Limburger cheese is the same bacterium that is responsible for body odor, and in particular, foot odor.

Limburger cheese was first created in the Duchy of Limburg in the 19th century by a man who had just come home from a hard day of cheese making. He had unbuckled and removed his boots, and was attempting to enjoy a meal with his wife, when he and his wife got into an argument that changed the history of cheese making forever.

Wife: What is that horrendous smell?

Cheesemaker: Ooh, we’re having stoofvlees, I love stoofvlees.

Wife: It’s the most putrid smell I have ever encountered.

Cheesemaker: I don’t smell anything. Pass the ale.

Wife: I think it’s your feet.

Cheesemaker: Seriously. Pass the ale.

Wife: It’s rancorous.

Cheesemaker: It’s not that bad.

Wife: It is that bad. There are people retching on the other side of the Demer River.

Cheesemaker: Do you know what this conversation isn’t doing? It isn’t remedying the fact that I have no ale.

Wife: Your feet smell worse than that giant pile of opossum crap you have behind the house.

Cheesemaker: I’ll get my own ale.

Wife: Why do you even have a giant pile of opossum crap?

Cheesemaker: I’ll tell you why, (he pauses to take a slug of ale) because someday you’ll be in desperate need of copious amounts of opossum crap, and you’ll be glad it’s there.

Wife: I’ve thought the same thing about you, but it still hasn’t happened. Besides it’s the worst smell in the world.

Cheesemaker: Nonsense. It’s not the worst smell in the world. In fact, I’ll bet that I could make a cheese that smells worse.

Wife: I doubt it.

Cheesemaker: You’ll see; it will become my mission.

Wife: Shut up and drink your ale.

And drink his ale he did.

And succeed he did–beyond his wildest ale fueled dreams.

Of course his wife left him and his giant pile of opossum crap.

The Duchy of Limburg is now divided by modern-day Germany, the Netherlands, and Belgium. None of the three countries wanted it: it reeked of Limburger cheese and developed a huge opossum problem.

Addendum: there are historians who will tell you certain items in this story aren’t factual–historians suck.

opossum

The aroma of their crap is delightful.

Not talking to each other key to resolving marital conflicts — The Bald Beagle

Calling each other “irrational” and “annoying,” potato farmer Tom Bruise and his wife Lucy quickly resolved all marital conflicts by not talking to each other. “It totally works,” said Bruise. “Ever since we resolved to shut our respective traps, I’ve been angrily washing the dishes while she texts her friends, and we get along just […]

via Not talking to each other key to resolving marital conflicts — The Bald Beagle

[satire] CRY WOLF: St. Paul’s Student Devastated to Realize There’s Still 50 Minutes Left of Class — The Paper Wolf

Cry Wolf Satirical News (COVINGTON, La.) The four block, 90-minute class schedule St. Paul’s operates under has given students a very unique relationship with the clock. A St. Paul’s student was reportedly devastated to realize there was still 50 minutes left of class yesterday (May 9). Sources say sophomore Tyrone Peters was horrified after looking […]

via [satire] CRY WOLF: St. Paul’s Student Devastated to Realize There’s Still 50 Minutes Left of Class — The Paper Wolf

We’ll Let You Know

hanging help wanted sign

The following is an actual conversation I had with a man who was dropping off his resume at a place where I used to work.

Man: Is there someone here that I can talk to about a job?

Me: The plant manager does the hiring, but he isn’t here today.

Man: So I can’t talk to anyone today?

Me: Sorry.

Man: (visibly upset) But I made sure not to smoke crack today.

Me: That’s very conscientious of you; I’ll add a note to your resume specifying that you made sure not to smoke crack today.

Man: (pointing an accusatory finger at me) You better not be lying to me.

Me: Trust me, writing that note will be a genuine pleasure.

Man: Just make sure you do it.

As a man of truth and integrity: I wrote that note and firmly attached it to the front of that man’s resume.

He wasn’t even considered for the position; does honesty count for nothing anymore?

rejection from job

Unfortunately, we’d already filled our quota of habitual drug users.

Dragons, Lies, and Dragonflies

dragonfly

They’re really hard to catch.

You’re at the big family picnic  when you hear a high pitched screeching coming from behind. It’s like some kind of wildly malfunctioning siren, or a giant deranged braying donkey. The noise is so shrill, so piercing, you can feel it in your chest. You wheel around expecting to find some kind of harpy or mythological beast of misery—you’re close.

“Look at my daughter.” Your Aunt Zelda screams at you as she points to a filthy and disheveled child.

“I’ve seen her before,” you tell Aunt Zelda, “but keep up the grooming regimen, it’s really paying off.”

“What I mean is: do you know how your Little Cousin Erina has come to be in this state?”

“I’m guessing the combination of bad genetics and decidedly questionable parenting.” You feel confident in your answer.

“Specifically, the condition of her face,” Aunt Zelda snaps.

“Her face? That’s all on you and her father and possibly a radon leak in your home.”

Aunt Zelda is now visibly agitated—you can tell because there is some color in her normally pasty complexion.

“The gunk around her mouth; I want you to tell me what that is,” she demands.

“The final reason the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania needs to begin proceedings toward the termination of parental rights?”

“You’re full of little jokes today aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think I carry my wit with me everyday,” you tell her.

“It’s dragonflies!” Aunt Zelda screams at you.

“You shouldn’t allow your child eat dragonflies,” you advise Aunt Zelda, “you’re giving the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania ammunition they don’t even need.”

“She ate the dragonflies because you told her to,” Aunt Zelda snaps at you, her face achieving a level of color previously thought not possible.

“I never told anyone to eat dragonflies,” you defend yourself.

“You told the children if they eat enough dragonflies they would turn into a dragons.”

“That was more of a cautionary tale than actual instructions.”

“Well she believed you and now she’s eaten five dragonflies.”

“She’s eaten five dragonflies?” you exclaim, genuinely impressed, “dragonflies are hard to catch.”

“In the future I would appreciate it if you would refrain from telling my daughter lies.”

“You don’t know it’s not true,” you defend yourself.

Your Cousin Bucky notices Little Cousin Erikka’s face as he’s passing by. “There’s chocolate all over your kid’s face, Aunt Zelda.”

“That’s not chocolate,” Aunt Zelda screams at Cousin Bucky, ” it’s dragonflies.”

Cousin Bucky stops in his tracks as he absorbs the information. “Are you sure it’s wise to let your child eat dragonflies, especially with the whole family court thing coming up?”

“I didn’t let her eat dragonflies, you moron.”

“Still, you should probably monitor her insect consumption,” Cousin Bucky says, “because the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania already has more than enough ammunition.”

“Really? Do they have enough ammunition? Do they really?” Aunt Zelda snaps at Cousin Bucky.

“Do you not know…because they have a lot of ammunition,” Cousin Bucky assures Aunt Zelda

“Daughter Erina ate the dragonflies because this moron told her she’d turn into a dragon if she ate enough dragonflies,” Aunt Zelda pokes a crooked finger at you.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Cousin Bucky tells Aunt Zelda.

“I have nothing to worry about?” Aunt Zelda questions.

“I doubt it’s the case eating dragonflies will actually turn her into a dragon,” Cousin Bucky says matter-of-factly.

“You don’t know it’s not true,” you admonish Cousin Bucky. “You’re not an expert on dragons or dragonflies?”

“I suppose I’m not,” Cousin Bucky agrees.

“Obviously eating dragonflies doesn’t turn you into a dragon,” Aunt Zelda says, “she ate five of them and she’s not a dragon.”

“She ate five?” Cousin Bucky says with surprise. “They’re really hard to catch.”

“They are hard to catch,” you agree. “But clearly, five dragonflies is not enough to trigger the Dragon transformation.”

“Should I eat more?” Little Cousin Erina asks.

“I guess that depends on how badly you want to be a dragon,” you advise.

“Yay, more dragonflies,” Little Cousin Erina cheers.

“You’re not eating anymore dragonflies,” Aunt Zelda scolds.

“I think you’re missing the key point in this entire situation,” you tell Aunt Zelda.

“And what would that be?”

“The fact that your daughter desperately wants to be a dragon.”

“I wouldn’t bring that up to the people from social services,” Cousin Bucky advises Aunt Zelda.

“Why do you want to be a dragon?” You ask Little Cousin Erina.

“Because dragons can breathe fire and burn alive any person they don’t like,” Little Cousin Erina tells you with glee.

“That was a bit chilling,” you say.

“I definitely would not bring that up to the people from social services,” Cousin Bucky tells Aunt Zelda.

“Really, Nephew Bucky,” Aunt Zelda snaps. “Are those your words of wisdom for me?”

“Do you really not know…because that sounded horrible.”

“Look, a dragonfly,” Little Cousin Erina squeals with delight as she runs off in the direction of the dragonfly.

Aunt Zelda stares in silent rage at you and Cousin Bucky before she turns to pursue her daughter.

“Look at that,” Cousin Bucky says in amazement, “she’s caught another one.”

“And now she’s eating it,” you reply.

“It’ll be good having a dragon in the family,” Cousin Bucky says.

You just nod in agreement.

dragon

Little Cousin Erina–post transformation.

City Council Chambers to add Boxing Ring — gooferie

Following a recent near dust-up between City Councilman Mel Witherspoon and a citizen, Erie City Council held an emergency session and voted 6-0, with one abstention, to add a regulation size boxing ring to council chambers. To make room for the ring, council will be removing 30 seats which are never occupied anyway for meetings. […]

via City Council Chambers to add Boxing Ring — gooferie

Denouement–it’s Fun to Say

poe

Edgar Allan Poe: novelist, short story writer, and poet…something is missing.

In a previous post I stressed the importance of reading.

But it’s not just that you read; what you read is of equal importance.

The novel: Novels are essentially piles and piles of words endlessly strung together. Novelists are concerned with things like setting, theme, plot resolution, and character growth. Do friends become enemies? Do enemies become friends? Are obstacles overcome?

Important questions need to be answered in novels.

  • Does Captain Ahab’s obsession with the white whale drag him under?
  • Does Edmund Dantes’ quest for revenge ruin his chance for happiness?
  • Does Jay Gatsby reunite with his long-lost love?
  • Does Sydney Carton seek redemption by going to the gallows for another?
  • Does Lucy ever let Charlie Brown kick the football?

Seriously, novels are just exhausting–I would avoid them.

Note: The word denouement is fun to say–it’s all Frenchy.

hallucination

Reading novels makes young children have disturbing hallucinations…it’s a fact.

The short story: Short stories are just novels for people with short attention spans. They are primarily written by lazy novelists who probably had a little too much to drink the night before, and couldn’t be bothered to write a proper novel.

Don’t waste your time with short stories.

Poetry: The key element of poetry you need to recognize is that if can even remotely understand it, it’s not proper poetry. When a poet writes a poem about a leaf being blown from a tree, falling to the ground, and being trampled underfoot. He’s not actually writing about a leaf being blown from a tree, falling to the ground, and being trampled underfoot.

The leaf represents hopelessness, and the futility of a life marred by series of tragic events. The leaf being blown from the tree represents a life spiraling into an alcohol fueled abyss of despair. The leaf being trampled underfoot represents the crushing weight of an uncaring world and inevitable grip of death.

It’s all so confusing and depressing. I once spent the better part of an afternoon curled up in the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably after reading a collection Sylvia Plath poems. (Sylvia Plath was one depressing chick.)

For the sake of your mental health stay away from poetry.

Note: This does not apply to limericks. Limericks are short humorous poems with a strict meter and rhyme scheme. They tend to revolve around an odd man from a small island off the coast of Massachusetts.

Nantucket

Nantucket: evidently there was once a man from there.

The humor blog: Humor blogs are unsurpassed in pure entertainment value. They are practically happiness in written form.

Many humor bloggers are attractive people; the rest are stunningly attractive people. Humor bloggers are the best sort of people; the sort of people you want to praise continuously and occasionally bask in their reflected glow.

They have breath that is perpetually minty fresh, and they seldom sweat.

Humor blogs are read by highly intelligent people. They are read by people who are witty and charming. They are wholly unlike those dullards who read books of poetry.

Humor blogs enrich your life, and they give meaning to your otherwise drab existence.

Whenever a humor blog is read, somewhere a small child laughs.

Humor blogs are to be read, read again, memorized, and repeated aloud in public.

You have your mission–so get to it.

laughing kid

Congratulations, you just made a small child laugh.

 

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