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idiotprufs

Read by four out of five drunken monkeys, written by the fifth.

Archive for the tag “advice”

Pet Rhinoceroses

pet rhino

Sure it’s adorable, but it’s a handful.

So your pet rhinoceros has turned out to be more of a handful than you had anticipated.

You’ve horribly underestimated how large rhinoceroses tend to get.

A full grown rhinoceros can knock over a Honda Civic with relative ease. Even when the owner of the Honda Civic and his loudmouthed wife are in the Honda Civic. A rhinoceros can flip over a Honda Civic with just the flick of its horn.

Your neighbor owns a Honda Civic.

Full grown rhinoceroses will eat a lot. And even though it seems illogical, they crap more than they eat.

Rhinoceroses like to crap on rose bushes.

Your neighbor has rose bushes.

Rhinoceroses are angry creatures and they hate garden gnomes; if they see a garden gnome they will stomp on it until it is pulverized.

Your neighbor has garden gnomes.

Did I mention a rhinoceros can puncture the side of a Honda Civic with its horn? It can–and it’s hilarious.

“It’s tipping the car over. It’s tipping the car over,” your neighbor’s loudmouthed wife will scream in horror.

Insurance companies seem reluctant to respond to alleged rhinoceros damage.

You know when you laugh so hard your side hurts and you pee a little: that’s what happens.

Despite all of the positive things I’ve just detailed, you should probably avoid getting a pet rhinoceros.

Get something smaller and more manageable, like a gorilla.

Gorillas just throw their crap at your neighbor and his loudmouthed wife–it’s hilarious.

Just a little rhinoceros damage–it’ll buff right out.

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Driving Tips and Justified Vehicular Homicide

idiotprufs

You seem frustrated.

Let’s say you’re driving down one way street. You’re alert to your surrounding and obeying all the traffic laws, like the conscientious motorist that you are.

You begin to slow down because in front of you is a pair of pedestrians walking toward you down the middle of the street.

Surely they’ll move out of your way; you’re the motorist and they’re pedestrians in the middle of the street.

But they don’t move out of the way. You have to come to a complete stop.

As they get closer you can see that it’s a teenage couple. The girl has a look of complete oblivion on her face and the boy (or Smug Little Bastard as you refer to him) is just staring at you with a cocky look on his smug little bastard face.

You have to sit stationary for an interminable amount of time as you wait for them to slowly make their way past you and out of your way.

Now I’m not suggesting it should be legal to run over people like that with your vehicle…but it should be legal to run over people like that with your vehicle.

I’m not saying it wouldn’t be frowned upon. I’m not saying you wouldn’t receive stern looks of disapproval, but it should be legal.

You should at least be able to nudge them out your way with your bumper.

You’re also driving a company vehicle and you’re not sure how your employers would feel about their vehicle being used in such a manner.

Although, you are certain if they saw the look on Smug Little Bastard’s face, they’d give you the green light.

And if you are this young lady, what the hell are you thinking? Smug Little Bastard just lead you hand in hand into oncoming traffic. Get as far away from this dude as fast as you can. Your future with Smug Little Bastard is bleak.

Bleak is not a word I bandy about lightly.

Bleak!

You’re going to wind up in some ramshackle hut with Smug Little Bastard, a bunch of screaming brats, and a family of rabid opossums. And the opossums will be tolerable ones.

Also, at some point it may become legal to run somebody over who walks smugly down the middle of the street. If my ballot initiative passes in the next election, it will be legal to run somebody over who walks smugly down the middle of street.

So watch yourself.

falling down house

At least the opossums are happy. (Relatively happy.)

Things Couldn’t Possibly Get Worse

couldn't get worseThere has never been a phrase so inviting of it’s own contradiction than the phrase “things couldn’t possibly get worse.”

The mere utterance of the phrase is a virtual guarantee that things are about to go horribly wrong.

Example:

You’re hiking through the woods with a friend. You’re beginning to think you’ve lost your bearings and you’re uncertain of where you are. You having increasing suspicions that your friend’s cartography skills were exaggerated.

You transition from being uncertain of where you are to complete certainty you are lost. Nighttime is approaching, a thunderhead is gathering overhead, you’re friend has just stepped in a giant pile of bear crap, (which as much as it amuses you, is a tad alarming) and you’ve come to the conclusion that you’re friend’s cartography skills were wildly exaggerated.

As the first streak of lightning burns across the sky you’re friend turns to you and says, “well, things couldn’t possibly get worse.”

Without saying a word, you reach down and retrieve a stick from the forest floor. You study the stick for a moment, then pull out a jackknife and whittle the stick into a fine point.

You turn to your friend, pause for a moment as he anticipates what you’re going to doing, then you jab you’re friend in the eye with the stick.

“Things are worse now aren’t they,” you say triumphantly.

Your friend is a little angry, but you were just trying to prove a point…plus, it really irritated you when “Mr. Map Expert” referred to the contour lines on his topographical map as squigglies.

You crash through the forest in the darkness and pouring rain for an interminable amount of time, hopelessly lost and almost certain you’re being stalked by either a bear or bigfoot.

Luck finally smiles upon as you come across a country road and there’s a vehicle approaching. Your friend jumps into the road, waving his hands in an effort to gain the driver’s attention.

Your friend mistimes his leap into the road and is struck by the car. As it turns out, being blinded in one eye seriously reduces your depth perception.

Luck is a fickle bitch.

“I guess things couldn’t get worse,” you finally concede to your friend as he lies in the road in a whimpering mass.

The words have barely left your lips when a bear lurches from the trees and mauls your friend. Bigfoot just watches.

After a lengthy recovery period and extensive physical and mental therapy, your friend is fine.

On plus side, with all the scars on his face and the eyepatch, he looks like a real badass.

You’d tell him that, if you were still on speaking terms.

Badass with eyepatch

See how badass your friend now looks. And not even a thank you.

Pompous Loudmouthed Jerk

Everyone knows someone who’s overbearing and obnoxious? That guy who’s ego is so enormous, it actually has small moons orbiting it. His head is so bloated it affects the tides.

He’s also a bully; he likes to denigrate people and is constantly belittling others.

He’s a pompous loudmouthed jerk.

I know somebody like that–I’m sure you do too.

And on occasion that guy points his petty tiny-brained aggresion in your direction.

How do you deal with it?

I have a solution that is guaranteed success: shoot him in the face with a crossbow.

It’s so simple. It’s so elegant. It works.

Regardless of what you’re doing or saying, regardless of your focus, once you’ve been shot in the face with a crossbow, that becomes your primary concern.

I know what you’re thinking: if I shoot somebody in the face with a crossbow, won’t there be ramifications? I don’t know exactly what happens when you shoot somebody in the face with a crossbow, but I probably won’t get invited to parties anymore and I could even lose my job.

Maybe. Maybe not.

If your job is shooting people in the face with a crossbow, you’re golden. If your job is anything else, there may be an issue, but you can always find another job.

And do you really want to go to parties where pompous loudmouthed jerks are allowed free reign with no chance of being shot in the face with a crossbow? Of course you don’t–nobody wants that.

I hope this post has been an aide to you; I know it’s helped me.

Just one of the small moons orbiting the Pompous Loudmouthed Jerk’s bloated ego.

Dear Purveyor of Opinions


monkey
Dear purveyor of opinions,

I think it is absolutely adorable that you think I care what your opinion is.

I don’t. I don’t care at all–not even a little.

I view your opinions as gnats buzzing around my head; irritants to be swatted away and if possible, crushed.

It’s not the sheer stupidity and ignorance contained within your opinions that I find so objectionable. It’s more the level arrogance and brazenness in which you disseminate your opinions.

I would listen to virtually anyone’s opinion before I would listen to yours. If there are 7.7 billion people in the world, yours would be 7.7 billionth opinion to which I would listen.

I would even listen to opinions in languages I don’t understand, (which frequently includes English) before I would listen to your opinion. Even if a person spoke in a language that consisted of nothing but clicks and whistles, I would sit and listen with an empathetic countenance, nodding, and adding an occasional, “that’s a good point,” to the mix.

I would listen to the opinions of parrots before I would listen to yours. At least when a parrot says something birdbrained, it’s because it has the brain of a bird. What’s your excuse?

Or one of those monkeys that knows sign language. Even if that monkey was hurling its feces at me as it was signing its opinion, I would find it preferable to your opinion. I would rather be hit in the face with monkey crap than listen to your opinion.

You remind me of Bluto from the Popeye cartoons, but without the couth. Bluto is couther than you. A loudmouthed cartoon blowhard has more couth than you. That’s crazy.

I’m sure you have opinions about this post…I don’t care.

It’s my hope that my stance on the matter has been made sufficiently clear.

Thank you for your time.

opinions

Couther than you.

Idiotprufs’ Tips for Halloween


jack-o-lantern
It’s the time of the year for spooks, goblins, witches, monsters, ghouls, and all manner of beastly and horrifying creatures…but enough about your family reunion, this post is about tips for Halloween.

Halloween Tip #1

When you’re carving your jack-o-lantern, you should try your best not cut your thumb off. But if you do happen to sever a digit: use it. Your jack-o-lantern covered with blood spatter and with a severed thumb next to it will be the hit of the neighborhood.

Halloween Tip #2

Don’t cheap out on the treats. You don’t want to be that person in the neighborhood who passes out pennies or walnuts or apples. Have you ever been pelted in the face with pennies or walnuts or apples? It stings. 

Remember: other people’s children are all dull-witted potato-faced monsters who belong in juvie, (your children, however, are precious) don’t give them a reason to egg your house.

And don’t be that guy that gives out toothbrushes; you’re just asking for house to be burned down.

Halloween Tip #3

If some of those rapscallion neighborhood kids should decide to play tricks on you regardless of the generosity of your treat giving, you need to be prepared.

There are dozens of tactics I could advise, but it really condenses to three simple words: release the hounds.

Halloween Tip #4

Always keep a good lawyer on retainer. (See Halloween Tip #3.)

Halloween Tip #5

Have no regrets.

It’s the day after Halloween and you’re cleaning egg from the side of your house, (next year those little dull-witted potato-faced monsters are getting pennies) and the lawsuits are already going forward. (See Halloween Tip #3 again.) 

You try to text your friend about your troubles, but you find texting is just one of the many things that is much more difficult without a thumb. While your severed thumb looked great next to the jack-0-lantern, a crow flew away with it almost immediately so really didn’t get the full benefit the effect. 

Halloween Tip #6

Screw Halloween.

trick or treaters

Next year you little dull-witted potato-faced monsters are getting pennies.

 

Just a Bit of Advice


bat crazy

If you’re a person who is deeply offended by being told you’re acting bat-shit crazy–stop acting bat-shit crazy.

I know this seems like a profundity that is so pure, so simple, and so obvious, that it hardly warrants mentioning…but evidently it does.

So stop it!

Thank You

newhart

Ask Mr. Car Person — Gerbil News Network

Is your car making a funny sound? Does it give off a bad smell? Ask Mr. Car Person for help, and as soon as he gets the grease off his hands, he’ll type out an answer to your question. Dear Mr. Car Person– My husband “Carl” is a certified public accountant, which as you probably […]

via Ask Mr. Car Person — Gerbil News Network

It’s About Time! — Gerbil News Network

Time is a mysterious force that affects all of our lives, even if we can’t see it, touch it, or feel it. Sometimes it moves very fast–we have hardly dropped our credit card payment in the mail when another bill arrives!–while other times it moves slowly, like when we’re at High School Awards Night waiting for our […]

via It’s About Time! — Gerbil News Network

It’s About Time! — Gerbil News Network

Time is a mysterious force that affects all of our lives, even if we can’t see it, touch it, or feel it. Sometimes it moves very fast–we have hardly dropped our credit card payment in the mail when another bill arrives!–while other times it moves slowly, like when we’re at High School Awards Night waiting for our […]

via It’s About Time! — Gerbil News Network

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