idiotprufs

the blog that made the pope laugh so hard he peed himself.

Archive for the tag “black plague”

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 them or see them or smell them or just be in their general vicinity. And I most certainly don’t want to touch them–unnecessary and unwanted touching is exactly 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, confusion. Bleeding from the nose, mouth, gums, and rectum. Bruising, skin burns, open sores on the skin, and sloughing of skin. Dehydration. Diarrhea, 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 its already had enough and so should its mother.

So you and 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.

Advertisements

What was that Crunchy Thing in My Pudding?

I think I just ate something that broods.

I think I just ate something that broods.

You’re enjoying a delicious cup of pudding; savoring it’s smooth, creamy, crunchy goodness.

Wait a minute–crunchy?

Crunchy is not an adjective that’s generally associated with pudding. What did you just bite into? What did you just swallow? You feel a subtle unease in the pit of your stomach. Your mind begins to race, pondering the crunch causing possibilities.

Was it a clump of dirt? That would be bad, but it could be worse; it could be much worse.

The pain in your stomach grows a little.

That crunch had an exoskeleton feel to it. You may have just eaten an insect. What kind of insect could it have been? Your mind immediately leaps to most disgusting insect possible: the Egyptian dung beetle. Beetles that use rolled balls of dung for food or brooding; it definitely had the feel of something that broods.

The sick feeling in your stomach intensifies.

Stop it. Dung beetles are far too large to fit in your cup of pudding; it’s almost certainly a smaller insect.

You think it could have been a bedbug, but it was too large to be a bedbug. Unless it was a cluster of bedbugs, or worse: an abnormally large mutant bedbug…that probably just fed on someone with hepatitis.

You begin to feel a little dizzy

Then it hits you, the worst case scenario: what if it was a piece of rat feces? What’s the acceptable amount of rat feces in pudding? You hope it’s not measured in chunks. What if the rat had Bubonic Plague? You may have just become ground zero for an outbreak of the Black Death.

Done in by Bill Cosby and his cursed spokesperson affability.

And you thought Bill Cosby couldn’t get creepier.

You vomit.

As you try to catch your breath, you notice absolutely nothing offensive in your vomit.

You inspect it very carefully (which in itself is a little weird) and still you find nothing. It was probably just your imagination.

You feel silly, regulations involving food production are far to strict for it to have been anything else.

Meanwhile, in a pudding factory on the edge of small village in a remote part of Bolivia:

First worker: Hey, I think something just fell into the vat of pudding.

Second worker: What was it?

First worker: It looked like something with an exoskeleton, something that broods, possibly an Egyptian dung beetle.

Second worker: Why would there be an Egyptian dung beetle here in Bolivia?

First worker: I don’t know. Why are we speaking English in Bolivia?

Second worker: Stop asking stupid questions and stir the pudding.

First worker: Maybe it was a chunk of rat feces. I wonder what the acceptable amount of rat feces in pudding is.

Second worker: Is there an unacceptable amount of rat feces in pudding?

They both laugh hysterically.

Where do you want to take this ball of dung and brood? How about the nearest Bolivian pudding factory? Perfect.

“Where do you want to brood?”
“How about the nearest Bolivian pudding factory?”
“Perfect.”

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: