idiotpruf

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

Archive for the category “idiotprufs”

09 Aug 2024
1 Comment

Equity For Wolves In Storytelling

Fairytale Land–The wolf community has united in protest against what they perceive as the negative portrayal they receive in fables and fairytales. We have interviewed Mr. Bartholomew Wolf, spokeswolf for The Equity For Wolves In Storytelling, about the situation.

Mr. Wolf: Just look at the end of The Three Little Pigs. The three little pigs boil the wolf in oil, and nobody sheds a tear. In fact, everybody cheers. Just think about how that story begins, they label him as ‘the big bad wolf,’ it’s highly prejudicial. That wolf’s name was Poindexter; he was one of a litter of six, and he had to overcome a stuttering problem as a child–they didn’t tell you that in the fable!

Idiotpruf: When he was boiled in oil, Poindexter was climbing down the chimney to eat the pigs.

Mr. Wolf: What? You’ve never had bacon? You probably had a nice ham dinner last Sunday; I’ll bet no one tried to boil you in oil.

Idiotpruf: Actually, I had vegan tacos.

Mr. Wolf: Really?

Idiotpruf: No. I was joking; vegan tacos are disgusting. But Poindexter wasn’t just trying to eat the three little pigs, he also destroyed the homes of the first two little pigs with his breath.

Mr. Wolf: That’s the most ridiculous part of the story; most wolves smoke two packs a day and couldn’t blow the seeds off a dandelion, let alone destroy a house with their breath.

Idiotpruf: Why do you think there are so many stories where the villain is a wolf: The Three Little Pigs, The Wolf and the Fox, The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids, and Little Red Riding Hood, just to name a few?

Mr. Wolf: I don’t know. Wolves are just like every other woodland creature; we have hopes, dreams, and fears like any denizen of the forest.

Idiotpruf: You do, on occasion, devour your fellow denizens of the forest.

Mr. Wolf: We’re very upfront about that. Besides, if you focus on one negative thing, you can make anything seem bad. Most of the animals in the forest have annoying traits: rabbits are noisy chewers, squirrels smell horrible when they’re wet, and tree frogs are horribly smug.

Idiotpruf: I wouldn’t have guessed that about tree frogs.

Mr. Wolf: That’s because tree frogs have no reason to be smug–they just are.

Idiotpruf: In Little Red Riding Hood, the wolf eats the poor girl’s grandmother.

Mr. Wolf: Little Red Riding Hood is a prime example of how these stories get it wrong about wolves; any self-respecting wolf would never eat the grandmother first; grandmothers are all sinewy and gristle, and they taste like linament.”

Idiotpruf: The story suggests that the wolf ate the grandmother first so he could take her place and fool Little Red Riding Hood so that he could then, in turn, eat her.

Mr. Wolf: What does it say about Little Red Riding Hood that she couldn’t readily tell the difference between her grandmother and a wolf–quite frankly, it’s insulting to the wolf.

Idiotpruf: So you’d be okay with the story if the wolf ate Little Red Riding Hood First?

Mr. Wolf: At least it would make more sense.

Idiotpruf: Just for clarification, as a wolf, you’re okay with the eating of the little girl?

Mr. Wolf: Of course, we’d eat the little girl, I mean, we’re freakin’ wolves.

The interview ended abruptly after that, and Mr. Bartholomew Wolf was stripped of his title as the spokesperson for The Equity For Wolves In Storytelling.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs and tagged , , , , ,
06 Jul 2023
14 Comments

Alternate Plans and Lake Erie

My plans to go over Niagra Falls in a barrel have continued to be wrought with issues.
The latest problem to stunt my efforts is the silliest of them yet: apparently, going over Niagra Falls in a barrel is illegal.
I thought Canadians were supposed to be all laid back and polite. But just try to get into Canada with a barrel strapped to the top of your car; the battery of accusatory glances and snide comments is withering.
What is the freaking point of having an internationally famous waterfall if you can’t go over it in a barrel? Do you think people go to Niagra Falls just go to Niagra Falls to stare at the water? No! They go to Niagra Falls to see courageous adventurers tempt fate in a death-defying act of bravery. And possibly die horribly.
“Why don’t you just go over the American side of the falls?”
Because the American side is the crappy side, and everybody knows it. The American Falls is the Horseshoe Falls’ irritating little runt brother that nobody cares about. Just posing the question feels like you’re rubbing that fact in my face.
So, I have decided to put my barrel plans on hold. My new focus is on my attempt to swim across Lake Erie. It’s perfectly legal; people do it all the time.
People traverse the 24 miles from Long Point, Canada, to Freeport Beach in North East, Pennsylvania on a regular basis.

Individuals are even encouraged and sometimes sponsored to swim across Lake Erie. Did you know the water in Lake Erie that people are openly allowed to swim in is the same water that later goes over Niagra Falls? That odor you smell in the air is the stench of hypocrisy…there’s also a lot of dead fish in Lake Erie.

And as a side note, Canadian bacon is just ham. Stop calling it bacon. Something called Canadian bacon should be real bacon slathered in maple syrup.


The only drawback I can foresee in this endeavor is that I’m not a classically strong swimmer. What I do in water could be categorized less as swimming and more as splashing about in a vague attempt to avoid drowning.
But I have a solution: I will reverse the process and swim from Freeport Beach in North East, Pennsylvania, to Long Point, Canada.
You see, North East, Pennsylvania is not the most pleasant place; it’s a detestable pit of horror.
If you have read this blog at all in the past (my apologies if you have), you probably know that I have detailed in great length North East’s many problems, not the least of which is its rampant infestation of bands of inbred cannibals.
You may wonder which is the more embarrassing problem for the small community: all of the incestuous inbreeding or all of the wanton cannibalism?
Neither. It’s the fact that they have a goat for mayor, and that goat is as stupid as he is arrogant. His name is Steve, and he is a jerk.
Steve routinely minces around town in a drunken stupor, head-butting random pedestrians into traffic and crapping on the sidewalk in all the places where people walk the most.
He is also very fiscally irresponsible.
If I begin my trek across Lake Erie from Freeport Beach in North East, Pennsylvania rather than in Long Point, Canada, my sheer desire to distance myself from North East should propel me halfway across the lake like I was shot out of a canon.
And once you’re out in the middle of Lake Erie, the impetus to keep going becomes quite strong.
This plan is idiotproof.
I will keep you updated on my progress.

Addendum: if this fails, maybe I’ll try being shot out of a cannon.

Posted in erie, Humor, idiotprufs, inspirational and tagged , , , ,
15 May 2023
2 Comments

It’ll Be Refreshing, He Said

rafting

“Paddle faster, you idiots.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be refreshing,” my friend assured me. I had strong doubts as I stood on the shore and watched the river’s water heave and surge past. My trepidation was fueled less by the tenacity of the water and more by the fact that what I did in the water could be described less as swimming and more as a labored attempt to avoid drowning. In the pit of my stomach, I could feel that this rafting trip was about to turn ugly.

Rivers that are used for rafting are separated into five classifications. Class one rivers are basically flat, smooth waters that can be easily navigated. Class five rivers are rapidly descending, treacherous waters that require considerable experience to navigate.

Class one rivers are for tiny little girls and wimps. Class five rivers are for studly men who like to laugh in the face of the Grim Reaper. We chose a class three river; we were average men who like the laugh in the face of the Grim Reaper but only when the Grim Reaper is at a distance and busy with somebody else at the time.

The trip was going well; we had successfully navigated our way through several sets of rapids without major incident. It was then that the guide told us to bring our rafts to shore, where he informed us that this was the part of the trip where we could walk back upstream and go back through the last set of rapids.

“What,” I asked casually, attempting to mask the alarm in my voice, “do you mean without the raft?”

“That’s right, you’re just going to jump in the water and go,” the guide said with an annoying amount of confidence.

“Are you certain that’s safe?”

“Absolutely, these are very deep rapids.”

“It’s safe because deep water is harder to drown in?”

“Yes…I mean, no. When it comes to rapids, deeper is safer.” I could detect a timbre of irritation creeping into his voice.

“Okay, I understand…I’m curious, what are your thoughts concerning skydiving without the parachute?”

I could tell by the dagger-filled stare that was shooting my way that it was time to stop asking questions. This was the man whom I would depend upon to pull my semiconscious body from the water should the need arise.

One by one, like lemmings, we climbed onto the top of a small boulder and leaped into the river.

I made it through the first two mini-rapids without a problem. It was the third set of rapids where a sudden surge of water lifted my body for a moment then pulled me under the surface. Murky river water shot up my nose at approximately 2000 mph, ricocheted off the bottom of my brain, then poured into my lungs.

Not wanting to be filled with murky river water, my lungs immediately expelled the water back through my mouth and nose with considerable force. My eyes, feeling left out, began to water profusely. I was now spinning out of control, and my arms were flailing around like a crazed marionette.

This was the moment I chose to invent a new game. I call the game “Whack your face against the rock.” I invented this game approximately two seconds after the guide yelled, “Hey, don’t whack your face against the rock.”

“Are you okay?” the guide chortled, unable to mask his amusement. I signaled to him with a thumbs up…well, it was a single digit.

As I slowly spun out of the rapids and crawled to shore, gasping for air and coughing simultaneously (something that I had previously thought to be physically impossible), my friend asked, “Are you going to go again?”

“No,” I replied. “I think that I’m refreshed enough.”

river raft

The IOC is considering whack-your-face-against-the-rock for the 2020 Olympics.

Posted in fitness, funny, Humor, idiotprufs, inspirational and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
22 Feb 2023
2 Comments

Seriously, I Don’t Want to Dance

the office dancing

Do you really want David Brent as a role model?

Why is this world polluted with people who are determined to make me dance? Loud, pushy, abrasive, overbearing, manipulative overlords of what is or is not judged to be enjoyable. People who won’t take no for an answer. People who believe they better grasp what’s in my brain than I do.

What I say: I don’t want to dance.

What they hear: I pretend I don’t want to dance, but secretly, it’s my deepest yearning. If not for debilitating fear and self-loathing, I’d be out on the dance floor right now, living the dream.

What I say: seriously, I don’t want to dance.

What they hear: if only there were some loud, pushy, abrasive, overbearing, manipulative overlord of what is or is not judged to be enjoyable, to goad and badger me into doing what I’ve secretly always wanted to do anyway.

What I say: get away from me, you drooling half-wit.

What they hear: grab my arm like a slack-jawed oaf and physically drag me onto the dance floor.

I am not responsible for anything that happens from that moment forward. I am confident the person who coined the phrase “justifiable homicide” was just some poor fellow who earnestly didn’t want to dance.

Note: I’m sure when his jaw is no longer wired shut, the person described in the scenario above will apologize to me.

Let’s make one thing clear: just because you like a certain thing, it doesn’t follow that every other human should also like that thing. Loads of different people like loads of different things.

Jeffrey Dahmer quite enjoyed killing people, hacking them up, eating them, and stowing the leftovers in his freezer. I can write with a relative degree of certainty; most human beings wouldn’t much care for that.

I have never once thought to myself: killing people, hacking them up, eating them, and stowing the leftovers in my freezer, seems like a horrific and frankly evil thing to do…but Jeffrey Dahmer thought it was a lovely thing to do. Perhaps I’m looking at this all backward. I’ve got plenty of room in my freezer, and there are several acquaintances in my sphere of influence I could readily live without (mostly the few who try to make me dance).

If only the local learning annex offered a course on beginner cannibalism. It’s all scrapbooking this and scrapbooking that, down at that place.

And I don’t need to be the center of attention to enjoy myself–in fact, it’s preferable not to be.

Just because I’m not standing on a chair, singing Love Shack at the top of my lungs, juggling shot glasses while I wildly thrust my hips into the air in a suggestive manner, doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying myself.

I don’t see life through the same self-absorbed prism as you.

You imagine I’m thinking: if only I could summon the courage, that would be me on that chair.

When I’m really thinking: if only I could summon the courage, I would kick that chair from under that jackass’s feet. That would make me smile.

Also, don’t tell me to smile.

I smile plenty.

I smile when it’s appropriate.

I smile when I’m happy or when something good happens.

I smile when a jackass falls from his chair and shot glasses cascade across his face.

Note: sometimes, I summon the courage.

People who go around smiling for no apparent reason are mental. I am not mental (fingers crossed).

crazy smile

This is how you appear to the rest of the world.

Being a naturally quiet person or an introvert is not a problem that needs to be fixed–just leave me be.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,
24 Dec 2022
4 Comments

Thank You Crazy Lady for Giving Us a Classic

christmas story

It was a chance encounter with a woman wearing a button that read: DISARM THE TOY INDUSTRY, in angry block red letters.

It’s all a Government plot to prepare the Innocent for evil, Godless War!  I know what they’re up to! Our committee is on to them, and we intend to expose this decadent Capitalistic evil!

She told him as she handed him a smudged pamphlet denouncing the U.S. as a citadel of warmongers, profit-greedy despoilers of the young and promoters of worldwide Capitalistic decadence, all through plastic popguns and Sears Roebuck fatigue suits for tots.

It was this encounter that led Jean Shepperd to recount his youthful almost maniacal desire for a Red-Ryder carbine-action range-model BB gun, and the lengths he went one Christmas in efforts to obtain one.

He then wrote the autobiographical essay, Duel in the Snow, or Red Ryder Nails the Cleveland Street Kid, which became the basis for A Christmas Story.

So thank you crazy lady for helping give us a classic.

Have a Merry Christmas, I triple-dog-dare you.triple dog dare

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, inspirational and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
05 Dec 2022
2 Comments

Your Children are Loud, Sticky, and Gross

bratty child

Your child in one of her calmer moments.

Your children are loud, sticky, and gross.

So don’t vilify me just because I don’t want to hear your children, see them, smell them, or be in their general vicinity. And I certainly don’t want to touch them–unnecessary and unwanted touching is precisely how the Black Plague proliferated. Flea-infested diseased riddled rats have taken the blame for far too long–it was filthy little children like yours.

And don’t try to tell me I should treasure your children’s presence because all children are precious. So is uranium and I don’t want to be around that.

Let’s Compare: it causes weakness, fatigue, fainting, and confusion. Bleeding from the nose, mouth, gums, and rectum. Bruising, skin burns, open sores on the skin, and sloughing of skin. Dehydration. Diarrhea and bloody stool. Fever. Hair loss. Nausea and vomiting. Organ failure and even death.

Uranium causes many of those same things.

Uranium, however, doesn’t scream like a psychotic brat at the top of its lungs because you didn’t give it an extra piece of fudge–uranium knows it’s already had enough and so should its mother.

So you and your precious children: just leave me be.

Addendum: If you believe there is the tiniest shred of a chance this post is referring to you and your children–it is!

uranium

If you need someone to watch your uranium or your children–I’ll take the uranium.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, lists and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,
28 Nov 2022
2 Comments

Virginia Zoo Misplaces Weird Looking Panda

red-panda-2The Virginia Zoo has announced that it has lost Sunny, its prized red panda. A frantic search was launched Tuesday morning when it was discovered Sunny wasn’t in her enclosure.

Upon investigation it was discovered a dimwitted caretaker named Ron was responsible for the escape. It seems Ron believing that Sunny was some weird raccoon that had gotten into the panda enclosure, opened the gate and shooed it away by manically waving a feces encrusted pitchfork and screaming, “git you weird raccoon, git.”

It seems the zoo has endured several odd mishaps at the hands of Ron; some of them involving misplaced animals, many of them involving feces, all of them disturbing.

“The biggest problem we have with Ron is that he is almost completely stupid,” one zoo official said. “He was kicked repeatedly in the head by a bongo antelope, and he was remarkably stupid before he got repeatedly kicked in the head by a bongo antelope. You should never try to collect animals’ feces by standing behind it with a bucket.”

bongo antelope

Bongo antelopes prefer to do their business in private.

After days of searching, Sunny still has not been located. Zoo officials fear the red panda has escaped the boundaries of the Zoo.

“Ron has a way of driving things away,” the zoo official said. “Usually it’s women, but I guess this time it was a red panda.”

While the zoo officials remain hopeful, they do concede that when Ron drives something away, it generally flees the state and changes its name.

Addendum

While recalling one incident involving Ron, a wombat, and a bag of feces, one colleague began to laugh so hysterically he lost consciousness.

wombat poop

Wombat feces: they do look like brownies, especially if you’re an idiot.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, inspirational and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
12 Nov 2022
4 Comments

Experts


expertOurs is a nation whose shores are teeming with experts. They are vital to our existence. We could barely function on a daily basis if not for these titans of knowledge, and purveyors of wisdom.

We know these things because it’s what they tell us.

We expect our experts to tell us much, and much they tell us:

  • They tell us what to do.
  • They tell us what not to do.
  • They tell us what to think.
  • They tell us what not to think.
  • They tell us where we should go.
  • They tell us where we shouldn’t go.
  • They tell us not to be long-winded.
  • But they use a lot of words to tell us.
  • They tell us not to be abrupt.
  • But they say it very abruptly.
  • They tell us not to make things too complicated.
  • They tell us not to make things too simple.
  • They tell us how simple it is to not make things complicated.
  • But they tell us in way that’s really complicated.
  • They tell us what to say.
  • They tell us what not to say.
  • They tell us not to pronounce the T in the word often.
  • But when they tell us, they pronounce the T in the word often.
  • And they do it often.
  • They tell us not to interrupt people.
  • But they interrupt to tell us.
  • They tell us what to write.
  • They tell us what not to write.
  • They tell us not to end a sentence with a preposition.
  • But you can end a sentence with the word preposition.
  • You can do it twice in a row.
  • They tell us what to eat.
  • They tell us what not to eat.
  • They tell us how long to boil an egg.
  • They tell us how long not boil an egg.
  • Don’t boil eggs–poach them!
  • Stop! Eggs are bad for you.
  • Now they’re not.
  • Now they are again.
  • Now they’re not again, as long as you don’t put salt on them; salt is very bad for you.
  • Now salt isn’t bad for you.
  • Now it is again.
  • They tell us not be contradictory.
  • They tell us not to be smug.
  • But they’re really smug about it.
  • They tell us what to read.
  • They tell us what not to read.
  • Starting with seemingly endless and annoying lists.
  • They tell us how to feel.
  • They tell us how not to feel.
  • When we feel miserable, they tell us why we feel miserable.
  • When we don’t feel miserable, they tell us why we should feel miserable.
  • When we feel happy, they knock some sense into us, so we can get back to the business of feeling miserable.
  • They tell us what to do to avoid death.
  • When we do what they say and die anyway, they tell our relatives why it wasn’t their fault.
  • And they demonstrate to us the importance of employing high-powered lawyers, in the event that some people actually follow their advice.

If not for the tireless work of experts, how many of us would still be living under the dark veil of happiness.

It must be exhausting being an expert.

If you should happen to see an expert on the street today, be sure to stop and give them a heartfelt thank you.

If you don’t know how to properly give a heartful thank you: ask the expert, they’ll know.Dilbert. point haired boss

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, inspirational, lists and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
05 Oct 2022
3 Comments

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.

Did you know the bacterium used to ferment Limburger cheese is the same bacterium that is responsible for body odor, and in particular, foot odor?

If you’ve ever smelled Limberger cheese, you had your suspicions.

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.

Posted in Cheese, funny, History, Humor, idiotprufs and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,
22 Sep 2022
8 Comments

Does a Bee Sting in the Penis Hurt?

bee sting

“You want me to sting you where now?”

A million-dollar National Science Foundation grant was given to Cornell University so a researcher could force bees to sting him on his penis to find out how much it hurts.

Let that sink in.

The idea was inspired by an unfortunate situation when a honeybee flew up Michael Smith’s shorts and stung him. “I was really surprised that it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would,” he said. The experience got him thinking: where is the most painful place on the body to get stung by a bee?

Oddly, it didn’t get him thinking about his choice of shorts when bike riding, or his strange proclivity for rubbing flower pollen on his inner thighs before he goes bike riding.

Note: the bee found the whole experience to be horrifying. “I was just buzzing along, very busy as we’re known to be, when suddenly I was all up in this dude’s junk,” the bee said.  

With the financial support from a National Science Foundation (NSF) Graduate Research Fellowship grant to Cornell University, Smith forced honeybees to sting more than 25 locations on his body from the face to the genitals. He then rated the pain caused by each of the stings on a scale of “Ouch” to “Holy Crap, What Have I Done.”

To compel a bee to sting, it was grabbed by the wings and pressed against the desired sting location.

Note: the million-dollar research grant pales in comparison to the multi-million-dollar lawsuit filed by the bees who were “compelled” to sting Michael Smith in the penis.   

bee sting research

One million dollars being spent.

The least painful locations to be stung by a bee for Michael Smith were the skull, middle toe tip, the upper arm, and in the face of some guy who happened to walk into the room at the wrong time.

The most painful places to be stung for Michael Smith were the nostril, upper lip, and the genitals.

Note: shockingly, being stung in the genitals does hurt.

Also painful for Michael Smith was the broken nose that resulted when the guy who got stung when he happened to walk into the room at the wrong time, punched him in the face.

Michael originally had his eyeball on the list of body parts to be stung but was talked out of it by his advisor Tom Seeley.

Note: I think it’s safe to say, despite the advice about the eyeball, as an advisor, Tom Seeley has failed Michael Smith miserably.  

Michael concedes this study is limited by its low sample size: one person, himself.

“It is possible that if other people were tested, they would not rank the painfulness of the stings in the same way or perceive pain similarly by location. It is also possible a female researcher may rate being stung in her penis or scrotum very differently,” Michael stated.

Did I mention how miserably Michael Smith’s advisor failed him?  

In case you’re wondering, these methods do not conflict with the Helsinki Declaration, which is a set of ethical principles for research involving human subjects developed by the World Medical Association.

In an “unrelated” experiment, researchers from Brown University set out to see if they could convince some moron from Cornell to compel bees to repeatedly sting him in the penis.

Helsinki is looking into it.

Addendum:

The assertion that Michael Smith rubs flower pollen on his inner thighs before he goes bike riding is purely speculation on my part…but he probably does.

bee sting penis

I think I see where Michael Smith went wrong.

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

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