what the hell else are you gonna do with your time?

Questions, Tattoos, and Questions about Tattoos

questionThroughout the course of my life I’ve been asked many questions:

Is that how your face has always looked, or were you involved in some unspeakable incident involving farm equipment, a vat of boiling acid, and a pack of ravenous ostriches?

Yes, but the ostriches weren’t ravenous–they were only slightly peckish.

Do your understand your Miranda rights as they’ve been read to you?

I’ve never met Miranda, I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl, but I don’t know why the police are always going on about her.

Did you think it wise to urinate on that police officer’s foot?

My buddy Jack Daniels thought it would be hilarious.

Did you smash my garden gnome with a shovel?

Not that you can prove, but yes.

But this is the question I’ve received the most:

Do you really have a tattoo of Winnie the Pooh with his head stuck in a honey pot on your left buttock?


Sadly, it was only drawn in marker and my monthly shower has caused it to fade to near imperceptibility.

But it has caused me to ponder something: if I were to get a tattoo, what would that tattoo be and where would it be placed?

I’ve come up with a few possibilities.

Winnie the Pooh with his head stuck in a honey pot on my left buttock.

It’s a classic and it has to be considered.

Dolph Lundgren’s face tattooed on my face so that I look like Dolph Lundgren.

I haven’t been perfecting my Dolph Lundgren impression over the past 20 years for nothing.

dolph lundgren

“If he dies–he dies.”

A brightly colored butterfly on my forehead.

It would distract from the carnage left behind by the unspeakable incident involving farm equipment, a vat of boiling acid, and a pack of slightly peckish ostriches.

Charles Manson’s face on my chest.

I need to cover the tattoo of Kanye West’s face on my chest with something less offensive.

That Miranda chick the police are always going on about.


Carmen Miranda.

This seems like an odd person for a cop to bring up moments after you’ve peed on his foot.

Mimes, everywhere a tattoo can be put.

If I’m going to do something I may regret in the future–I might as well really regret it.

There are so many great possibilities I am in an absolute quandary.

If you have any suggestions about my tattoo, I’m keen to hear them.

It’s a classic.


Mayoral Edicts of Mortal Consequence

idiotprufs, death is forbidden

If it’s on a sign, you must obey it.

It’s been a while since I first reported, Guilio Cesare Fava, the mayor of a Falciano Del Massico ordered the residents of the small town in southern Italy not to die. He stated that there was no room in the cemetery, therefore all residents were ordered by official edict, to refrain from entering the afterlife until the proper permits could be obtained and provisions made for a new resting place.

He also reportedly said, “death is depressing and icky and we’ll have none of it around here.”

With the combination of red tape, the propensity for governmental committees to move forward with the pace of an Icelandic glacier and the confusion manifested by the fact that nearly every member of Falciano Del Massico’s town council is named Luigi, the situation has shown little improvement. Compounded with the fact that some of the residents of Falciano Del Massico have taken it upon themselves to violate the mayors edict, things have grown even more dire.

“It’s just so frustrating,” Guilio said. “Just the other day I was standing in line at the market and the guy in front of me just dropped dead…the gall of it.”

Violators of the mayors edict have been placed into wooden boxes and buried in the ground. The punishment seems harsh, but law and order must be maintained.


idiotprufs, grim reaper

“Edict? I have a job to do.”

Mad Dog 20/20: The Greatest Invention Ever

invention symbol

When you’re having a reflective moment and you’re pondering the greatest invention in human history, what springs to mind?

Is it fire, the wheel, the combustion engine, that little plastic thing that keeps the top your pizza from being smeared all over the box–all very important.

Perhaps it’s the written word. (Although that’s certainly not reflected here.)

You probably think it’s an advancement in medicine or technology.

Wrong! The answer is Mad Dog 20/20.

I know what you’re thinking: why am I wasting precious moments of a finite lifetime reading a bunch of drivel written by a person who is clearly unstable and who probably spent far too much of his youth eating paste and crayons.

Wrong Again! I still eat paste and crayons.

I’m going to provide five specific reasons for my assertion that Mad Dog 20/20 is the greatest invention of all time.

Reason #1

It’s not just wine–it’s a flavored fortified wine.

It’s fortified!

Fortified wines have a higher alcohol content than regular sissy wines.

Anything with the word fort in it is inherently superior to anything without the word fort in it.


Fort Worth, Texas: thriving metropolis populated with the highest caliber of people.

Worth, Illinois: total shithole filled with mimes.

Enough said.

Reason #2

If you’re anything like me (my sympathies if you are) you are dazzled by things that are bright and shiny. Mad Dog 20/20 is available in a myriad of brightly colored flavors. There’s so many brilliant colors it’s dizzying. (And if you’re into to dizziness: consuming Mad Dog 20/20 can help you with that too.)

md 20/20

It’s dizzying.

Reason #3

The medical applications of Mad Dog 20/20 are many.

  • It’s practically a cure for not having liver disease.
  • Too many pesky brain cells: Mad Dog 20/20 is the solution.
  • It makes your vomit glow in the dark–how cool is that?
  • It makes you vomit: vomiting cleanses the body and entertains your friends.
  • It makes your urine glow in the dark. You’d be surprised how often that comes in handy.
  • It’s a memory suppressor: even if you drink a bunch of Mad Dog 20/20, and you do something crazy and stupid, you won’t remember it. (However, the authorities may remind you of what you’ve done.)

Reason #4

Applications apart from drinking it.

  • Self defense: it can be used to blind an attacker.
  • As an adhesive: as one of the stickiest substances known to man, it can be used as a glue.
  • Entomology: it can be used to attract bees, ants, or hobos.
  • As a repellent: it repels wombats, musk oxen, and The French.
  • Monetarily: it’s used as currency in the best federal prisons.
  • Status: if you keep Mad Dog 20/20 on display in your home, people will know your classy.

Reason #5

Mad Dog 20/20 is produced in my hometown of Westfield, NY. It’s a wonderful small village in western New York that has produced many brilliant people…and me.

It’s surprising the word fort isn’t in the name of the village. Strictly speaking, somebody dropped the ball on that.

I think at this point you probably agree with me that Mad Dog 20/20 is the greatest invention of all time.

So drink up.

Westfield ny

Many brilliant people.

Addendum: my apologies to the citizens of Worth, Illinois, I’m sure you’re fine people.

Local Kool-Aid Stand to Move Operations to Fort Worth — gooferie

Citing rising labor costs, ten-year old Kool-Aid stand owner Katie Nelson has decided to move her entire operation to Fort Worth Texas. “A glass of Kool-Aid costs 50 cents, said Katie. “I’m paying my little brother Mikey five cents per glass he pours, and it’s killing me. The labor market in Fort Worth is different; […]

via Local Kool-Aid Stand to Move Operations to Fort Worth — gooferie

Sick and Tired

glaring look

“What’s wrong with you?”

I am sick and tired of people who think they are better than me.

People who think they are better than me just because they don’t eat crayons–there’s no law against eating crayons.

Do you know what all serial killers have in common: they don’t eat crayons. They occasionally eat people, but never crayons. Would you prefer I went around murdering people? I’ll bet you would, because you’re all judgy.

I’m sick and tired of people who think they are better than me just because they’ve never slapped a mime in the face–there’s no law against slapping mimes in the face.

Okay, there is a law against slapping mimes in the face–but there shouldn’t be! When did this country become the type of fascist police state where you can’t slap a mime in the face?

I’m fed up with those of you who think you’re so superior just because you’ve never licked a toad then urinated on a police car. Police cars are inanimate objects: they don’t care if you pee on them.

The police officer gets a little angry–the toad was furious.

And so what if I like to spend my evenings sitting in a dimly lit room, chugging bottles of Orange Jubilee Mad Dog 20/20, eating from a tub of mayonnaise, with the B-52’s greatest hits blaring at full volume on the stereo as I fingerpaint pictures of giraffes and other even toed ungulates on the walls. (Sometimes I do it dressed up like a rodeo clown.)

There’s nothing weird about any of that…except for listening to the B-52’s–I shouldn’t do that.

Think about this: if I didn’t do weird and unspeakable things this blog wouldn’t even exist.

You’re right–I should probably stop.

mad dog 20/20

Perfectly paired with Crayola brand dandelion crayons.


Just Stop Talking!

Bad decision sign

This conversation actually happened at a place where I worked, involving myself, a female supervisor, and a coworker named Bill who makes very questionable decisions.

Supervisor: I think I should go on a diet and shed a few pounds before summer.

Bill: You don’t need to lose weight; you’re pleasantly plump.

(Several moments of painfully awkward silence.)

Supervisor: I’m what?

Bill: you’re pleasantly plump.

Supervisor: I’m plump am I? Plump is what I am? I’m plump?

Bill: no, you’re pleasantly plump.

Me: (whispering discretely in Bill’s direction) stop saying the word plump, dude.

Supervisor: so my plumpness is pleasant to you?

Bill: I like a girl with meat on her bones.

(Another long and horrifying awkward silence.)

Me: wow, I can’t believe you thought the word meat would be helpful.

Supervisor: so I’m plump and meaty. (turning to address me) Do I look pleasantly plump to you?

Me: (frightened): pleasant is certainly not a word I would employ at the moment.

Supervisor: (growling) but am I plump?

Me: NO!

Bill: There’s nothing wrong with having some junk in your trunk.

(She literally became so angry she couldn’t speak.)

Me: you really need to stop all of the words that are coming out of your mouth, Bill.

Bill: (holding his hands wide apart) but I like women who have…


I can only guess at how Bill was going to finish that sentence; I am certain it would have resulted in his homicide.

The supervisor tortured Bill for weeks, screaming “watch out, there’s fat coming through,” every time she walked past him.

It was funny–for me.

The moral of this story: don’t be a dumbass.

Christmas turkey

Remember: plump and meaty is fine when describing your Christmas Turkey, but not when describing your boss.

3 Run Over By Pay It Forward Truck — gooferie

Tragedy struck today as three people were struck by the Pay it Forward Truck. The three victims were running to the truck to be the first one to touch it, thus earning the $300 prize. The accident happened at mile marker 35 on Interstate 90. All three victims were taken to UPMC Hamot with undisclosed […]

via 3 Run Over By Pay It Forward Truck — gooferie

Holy Crapper


outhouse in the woods

In a previous post I listed the name Thomas Crapper as a visionary with the likes of Henry Ford and Steve Jobs.

I know what you’re thinking: Thomas Crapper, a visionary? The toilet guy?

Yes. Thomas Crapper, the toilet guy, was a visionary. While Thomas Crapper didn’t actually invent the flush toilet, his innovations regarding plumbing, sanitary fittings, and improvement of the toilet were responsible for indoor bathrooms.

If you don’t think that’s visionary, just try to imagine the first time he discussed the possibility with his friends:

Thomas Crapper: you know how outhouses are filthy and disgusting places?

Friend #1: yes. Nasty business, outhouses.

Thomas Crapper: and you know how we put them a certain distance from our homes because of the horrible stench, not to mention the disease and the vermin?

Friend #1: I certainly do.

Friend #2: ha, vermin’s a funny sounding word.

Thomas Crapper: I’m going to propose moving it all inside the home.

Friend #1: that’s insane.

Thomas Crapper: I’m thinking we could put it in a small room near the bedroom.

Friend #1: is all this crazy talk because we keep making fun of your surname? Because if it is we can stop.

Friend #2: ha, Crapper is a funny sounding name; I’m not stopping.

Thomas Crapper: I’ve come up with this innovation, I’m going to call it: the floating ballcock.

Friend #2: HA! That’s a funny sounding name–you are the gift that keeps on giving, Thomas.

Thomas Crapper: we could even put it in the same room that we bathe.

Friend #1: now you’ve gone off the deep end. Next you’ll be telling us about a machine that will allow men to fly.

Thomas Crapper: well, there are these two brothers named Wilbur and Orville, and they have an idea.

Friend #2: ha, Wilbur and Orville, those are funny sounding names.

wright brothers Kittyhawk

“I’ll bet we could put a toilet on this thing.”

Dear Disgusting Swine

dirty pigDear Disgusting Swine,

In a previous post you detailed your disappointment in relation to the Crayola company’s decision to discontinue the Dandelion crayon in their 24 pack of crayons. It seemed your distress stemmed from the fact that you find Dandelion crayons to be the tastiest of the colors available in the Crayola 24 pack.

You disgusting swine.

Your assertion is absolutely ridiculous an the height of irresponsibility. But being a fair minded person, I decided to eat a 24 pack of Crayola crayons before composing this letter.

It was disgusting, you pig-swine.

But just to insure absolute certainty in my position, I ate a second 24 pack of Crayola crayons: it wasn’t as disgusting as the first 24 pack, but it wasn’t good.

As I began to write this response, I snacked on a third pack of 24 Crayola crayons. Admittedly some of the colors are growing on me: Yellow-Orange in particular has a refreshing citrusy tang, but Dandelion is still awful.

You filthy disgusting pig-swine.

After several days of consuming crayons I have come to an unswayable conclusion: Dandelion is the most offensive of the colors available in the Crayola 24 pack of crayons. In fact, the only thing I’ve ever tasted worse than the Dandelion Crayola crayon is my aunt’s potato salad and that tastes like a diseased monkey peed into a vat of battery acid and death.

In conclusion: you are ignorant filthy disgusting pig-swine. (And you probably smell like moldy pinecones.)

Best regards,

Ron Smith, Director of Erie County Health Department.

dandelion crayon

Dandelion has been retired by Crayola and is now living in Boca Raton, Florida.

Putting One Thing on Top of Another Thing


An example of my capabilities.

“Do you understand?” He was gaping at me the way someone would who had just tried to explain calculus to an ape. And not one of those clever apes that knows sign language but one those apes on the nature channel that’s eating its own poop.

“Seriously?” I responded.

“Yeah,” he spat the word at me in the most condescending arrogant voice he could conjure. “Did you understand what I just explained to you?”

Note: in fairness to him, the most condescending arrogant voice he could conjure was just his voice–the fact that he resembled a rat didn’t help.

Allow me to go back to the beginning and explain: I am referring to an experience I had as a temporary worker. When you’re a temporary worker, there are certain things about you that are presumed:

  • You possess the education of a 12th century manure mucker, your biggest aspiration is to one day be allowed to use a shovel.
  • You need everything explained to you at least a dozen times.
  • You need everything explained in a tone that one would use when explaining to a small child why he shouldn’t eat all the fingerpaint and vomit into the fish tank.
  • You need everything explained to you in monosyllabic language. (Ironically, the word monosyllabic is exactly the type of word that should never be used when explaining something to a temporary worker.)
  • You need everything explained to you with accompanying diagrams. These diagrams should be drawn in crayon if possible.
  • All diagrams should be drawn in non-threatening colors such as forest green or navy blue. Bright colors confuse and disorient temporary workers (fuchsia makes us crazy).

I was interrupted from my duties by Rat-Faced Guy, (not his actual name) who informed me that he needed my assistance.

He dragged me over to a line where juice was being packaged in small cans. As cases of these cans progressed down the line, a machine would lift every other case and then fling the cans into the air, spilling them across the floor. Evidently, that’s not how the machine was designed to operate.

Rat-Faced Guy (probably not his name) explained to me that the malfunctioning machine would be shut down, and I would step in to take its place. As the cases came down the line in pairs, it would be my job to pick up the first case of juice, and place it on top of the second case of juice. Then I would have to do that again and again, until the machine was operating properly again.

It was at point that Rat-Faced Guy (potentially his actual name, when I said Rat-Faced Guy, people seem to know to whom I was referring) asked me if I understood.

“So, you’re asking me if I understand putting one thing on top of another thing?” I asked him.

“Yeah.” He looked at me with his beady eyes, his wispy mustache twitching nervously.

“What if, instead of putting the first case on top of the second, I put the second case under the first case?” I proposed.

Rat-Faced Guy (probably his actual name) looked at me incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m a visionary,” I told him. “I’m like Henry Ford, Steve Jobs, or Thomas Crapper.”

“Just do it the way I told you,” squeaked Rat-Faced Guy (almost certainly his actual name).

For the next two hours, I stood in one spot, and successfully put one thing on top of another thing.

Perhaps now they will trust me with something challenging such as putting one thing next to another thing.

The sky’s the limit–except for stacking things: two is the limit for stacking things.


idiotprufs, rat cartoon

Rat-faced guy having lunch.

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