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idiotprufs

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

Archive for the tag “blogging”

What the Hell Else are You Gonna do with Your Time?

changeThere’s been a change. It’s not a big change, like that time I shaved all the hair from my body and had William Shatner’s face tattooed on my left butt cheek, but it is a change nonetheless.

There’s a new tagline to this blog: idiotprufs: what the hell else are gonna do with your time?

You may be thinking there are a ton of things you could do with your time that are more fruitful than reading this blog; things that improve your life, or improve the life of others, or even make you a more productive human being.

But you’re not doing any of those things are you? You’re reading this blog.

Loser.

Do you think I would waste any time reading this blog? I barely put any thought or effort into writing it.

I considered going with: idiotprufs: the blog that has in no way been influenced by the Russians, as my tagline, but the reality is: the Russians influence everything I do.

Every time I watch Rocky 4 and Rocky beats Drago, I weep like a little baby.

Maybe I’ll get Dolph Lundgren’s face tattooed to my right butt cheek.

Do svidaniya comrades.

rocky 4

I’m getting all misty eyed right now.

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Even More Taglines For Your Approval

taglineIllegal in 38 states–frowned upon in the rest, is the current tagline for this blog.

However, it is now illegal in all 50 states, the United States Virgin Islands, American Samoa, Guam, the Northern Mariana Islands, and Frowned upon in Puerto Rico.

So it’s time for a change.

Not a change in the blog, but in the tagline; the statement above is just too wordy to be a tagline.

Note: this blog is still legal and well received in the District of Columbia, various militia run compounds that have declared independence from the United States, and the Vatican.

So it’s time to choose a new tagline.

idiotprufs: the blog that once made Pope Francis laugh so hard he peed himself.

idiotprufs: the blog that is widely used as currency in Bolivian prisons.

idiotprufs: the blog that took the Tide pod challenge and thought it was delicious.

idiotprufs: that blog that was shattered when The Amish Mafia was taken off the air.

idiotprufs: the blog that just can’t get the theme song from The Poseidon Adventure out of its head.

idiotprufs: the blog that was heartbroken when it discovered Mary Poppins isn’t a true story.

idiotprufs: the blog with cat-like reflexes and is as equally adept at using a litter box.

idiotprufs: the blog that has in no way been influenced by the Russians.

idiotprufs: the blog that used to call itself Miranda.

idiotrufs: the best way to spend the day if Jumbles are too complicated for you.

idiotprufs: the blog the solved two sides of the Rubik’s Cube then just gave up.

idiotprufs: the blog that was thrown out of a party after it made a rude comment about another blog’s toupee.

idiotprufs: the blog that is convinced that Rudy was offsides.

idiotprufs: the blog that lives in a glass house, but throws stones anyway.

idiotprufs: the blog that’s been pepper-sprayed far more times than is reasonable.

idiotprufs: the blog that leaves a stain that you just can’t get out.

idiotprufs: the blog that once met the Dali Lama and thought he was kind of full of himself.

idiotprufs: the blog that hates it when it burns it tongue on hot coffee and then can’t taste anything the rest of day.

idiotprufs: the blog that is frequently printed out just to be used to line bird cages.

idiotprufs: the blog that’s frequently crapped on by birds.

idiotprufs: the blog that just found out the word is spelled: idiotproofs.

idiotprufs: what the hell else are gonna do with your time?

One of these lucky taglines will become the new tagline for this blog.

Good luck to all of them.

Rubik's Cube

The blog that couldn’t get this far.

 

Elizabeth Gomez: Inappropriate Sentiments for Greeting Cards

I find all of these to be completely appropriate.

Drinkers with Writing Problems

  1. Birthday: It’s Your Birthday…I slept with your grandmother. We’re getting married.

  2. I’m Sorry: For sleeping with your grandmother, marrying her, and stealing away your inheritance. Love from Cabo!

  3. Anniversary: Happy Anniversary to the Man I Love…I hope my husband never finds out. LOL!

  4. Happy Easter: Praise be to the Lord, He has Risen…ALL LAMBS SHOULD DIE! Then sprinkle with rosemary and thyme for a delicious dinner celebrating Christ.

  5. Congratulations: You’ve graduated high school!…Now, try to get through college without a cocaine addiction.

  6. Thank You: Thank You…for giving me something that will be in next month’s yard sale.

  7. New Baby: God has blessed you with a baby…Let’s hope your wife doesn’t drown it.

  8. Get Well Soon: May God bless you with a speedy recovery…but then I hope you get hit by a car when you leave the hospital because I love watching you suffer.

  9. Thinking of You: I’ve been thinking of…

View original post 101 more words

What the Hell?

The following search terms popped up on search terms page in this order:

  • fat naked hillbillies
  • floppy breasted women
  • what mushrooms not to eat out of cow poop

What the hell is wrong with you people?

And more importantly: what’s wrong with me that those search terms direct people to this blog?

mushrooms

Dig in.

A Promise of Continued Dreck

drooling smiley

I was recently asked if I ever get writer’s block.

Of course I don’t; it’s what’s great about having a blog as stupid as this one: I can write whatever nonsensical gibberish pops into my head.

Take for example, the following passage from a post about phobias:

Walloonphobia: the fear of Walloons. Walloons can burst at any moment making a loud popping sound and startling you.
(My apologies, I thought this was the fear of balloons. Walloons are the French-speaking population of Belgium; it’s perfectly normal to be startled when Walloons burst and make a loud popping noise.)

What kind of stupid scattered brain comes up with that?

I’ve worked very hard to set a low a standard as possible for this blog while still forming semi-coherent sentences.

But it hasn’t been just my hard work and dedication responsible for the ridiculously substandard tangle of words before you. I’ve been genetically blessed with an extended family of what could be described generously as complete imbeciles.

Aunts, uncles, and cousins so completely and impenetrably stupid, there was really no way for it to not to filter to me. Even as I’m typing this, I’m drooling uncontrollably and I have peed myself because can’t remember how to use the bathroom.

Have you ever seen a tree with most of its branches rotting and riddled with an infectious disease. A disease so heinous the tree needs to be cut down, chopped into bits, burned, and its ashes buried in a deep hole under three feet of reinforced concrete, just to preserve the rest of forest.

That tree is healthy compared to our family tree–we wish we were that tree. Sometimes we’ll get together, drool on ourselves, pee ourselves, and scrapbook about how much we wish we were that diseased tree.

I will give you this assurance: I long as I am authoring this blog it will remain awful. And if you should happen to run into any of my aunts or uncles, give them a hardy thank you.

But don’t touch them–they tend to be sticky.

tree disease

We wish we were this tree.

Just a Quick Question for Bloggers

question

Has this ever happened to you?

You’ve just finished the perfect blog post, put the final touches on it, and edited it to your satisfaction.

But just as you’re about to hit the publish button, you notice the word count sits at 666 words. That’s a funny coincidence you think…but you’re hesitating to hit the publish button.

It doesn’t mean your blog post bears the mark of the beast, right?

It’s not like you have a fear of numbers. You don’t suffer from triskaidekaphobia after all.

(I just want you all to know I spelled triskaidekaphobia correctly on first try.)

Just because one blog post came out to 666 words doesn’t mean you’re the Antichrist–that’s clearly one of your cousins.

Your blog posts aren’t apocalyptic–they’re pretty bad–but not fire and brimstone bad.

(I did not spell apocalyptic correctly on the first try.)

So you dismiss this foolishness…then you go back and change the post to come out with 665 words.

Has this ever happened to you?

Addendum: I was just joking with that thing about your cousins…mostly.

fire and brimstone

You should have changed the word count.

 

You Have Spoken

voted

After two days of intense voting the results are in.

It seems that nobody is concerned that I am a peon…and wisely so.

But it is very disconcerting that nobody seems to care about the mad scientists under Oprah’s house.

When Oprah and her minions of evil genius monkeys are ruling the world with an iron fist, don’t come crying to me–I tried to warn you. When everything is all weepy feelings and book clubs and the world reeks of monkey feces and buttermilk pancakes, it’s on you.

As I have always suspected about the readers of this blog: you’re very cold hearted. Very few of you care about the plight of toad lickers in this country. (But they’ll be ones right at home during Oprah’s reign.)

More of you care about Hillbillies and their weird faces. Have you considered maybe hillbillies have weird faces because they lick toads? I’ll bet you haven’t.

About the same amount of you care about having reasons for throwing rocks at things.

You probably want to throw rocks at hillbillies and their weird faces, or their toad licking brethren.

You’re all so heartless.

Many of you were concerned with the blowhard and his mostly jet black truck. (Throwing rocks at this guy and his mostly jet black truck would be wholly appropriate.)

But the most votes were cast for my former co-worker and his tragic conversation with a supervisor.

So my next post will be Let Me Explain.

Don’t throw rocks at my former co-worker–he has problems of his own.

stone

I’ll bet you want to throw this at a toad licker–you’re so heartless.

 

Help Me Finish Something!

I need help.If you’re anything like me (and if you are, you have my deepest sympathies) the draft section of your blog’s dashboard is littered with unfinished posts.

After tirelessly combing through dozens of drafts (for at least 10 or 15 minutes) I came up with this short list of possible drafts to finish and post.

I’m a Peon: At the time there seemed no need to finish this; it just seemed too self-evident.

Mad Scientists Living Under Oprah’s House: This was to be a post about how Oprah is genetically engineering a race of super smart and evil monkeys to help her take over the world. Again, just too self-evident.

I’m a Moron #Yolo: I had seen a tweet that read: Just took a dump on my bosses car. #Yolo. I imagined a post containing a series of subsequent tweets from this person, ending with the tweet: Just got to know my new cellmate Brutus and he’s roughed handed. #Yolo.

A Little Wrong or Horribly Wrong: This post stemmed from my overhearing a patron in a dining establishment complain that their order was horribly wrong because they received ice tea rather than lemonade. My supposition was that receiving ice tea rather than lemonade is only a little wrong. Had they received a glass of antifreeze or hemlock or alpaca pee, then their order would have been horribly wrong.

A Day in the ACME Complaint Department: I thought it would be funny to do a one-sided phone call (Bob Newhart style) of a person in the ACME complaint department taking a call from an angry Wile E. Coyote, because one of their products had again detonated in his face and slammed him into the side of a mountain.

road runner

This is about to go horribly wrong.

Reasons to Throw Rocks at Things: There has to be several.

Why do Hillbillies Have Weird Faces: This popped up on my search term page. Some poor individual came to this blog looking for an answer to that question; I fear I’ve let them down.

Toad Lickers Unite: It is high time we illuminate the plight of the toad licker in this nation.

homer simpson

Homer is just one of the many downtrodden toad lickers.

A Temper Tantrum and a Mostly Jet Black Truck: This is a true story about a giant blowhard of a man and how he parked his jet black truck in the wrong place.

Let Me Explain: Another true story about the time I witnessed a co-worker try to explain to a supervisor why he had called-off on Friday. His story began with “I got arrested” and then got increasingly worse.

Let me know which of these posts should be finished and published. (Or more than one–there is a plethora.)

I live to do your bidding.

 

Why Yes, That is a Lizard in My Pants

car crash

That person drives like they have a reptile in their underwear.

Taunton, Mass– Earlier this week 39-year-old Amy Rebello-McCarthy was arrested for operating a motor vehicle under the influence of liquor, driving to endanger, a marked lane violation, and activities considered to be more than a little creepy.

After arriving on the scene, police noticed a drooling Rebello-McCarthy next to a 22-year-old Marvin K. Kyewalyanga smoking a cigarette near where gas was leaking.

The police also questioned a faceless bystander dressed in long black cloak and carrying a scythe, who said he was, “simply waiting for the inevitable.”

grim reaper

Mr. G Reaper, witness of the incident.

 

 

“He couldn’t recall his first or last name as he slurred his way through the conversation,” police said.

Later they realized Kyewalyanga was his name and not just drunken gibberish.

Upon further inspection, police noticed what appeared to be a firearm tucked in Kyewalyanga’s waistband. The weapon later turned out to be an airsoft replica and not the product of Mr. Kyewalyanga’s “just being glad to see them” as he initially indicated.

“I believe that was just an erection joke,” one astute officer commented.

According to police, Rebello-McCarthy hit a number of mailboxes, and a parked vehicle in the driveway of a home.

She also hit a birdbath and a doghouse; residents Woodstock and Snoopy were furious.

When the two were arrested and getting taken to the police station, Rebello-McCarthy revealed that she had a bearded dragon lizard hiding in her bra. (Unbelievably, that is not a euphemism.)

bearded lizard

The traumatized lizard.

“The bearded dragon lizard was transferred to the Taunton Police Department and turned over to the Animal Control officer. It faces no charges at this time,” Taunton police said on their Facebook page. “Just years and years of therapy.”

Addendum:

After closer inspection of Mr. Kyewalyanga’s pants, police discovered the Japanese movie monster Gamera was lurking about in there. Also, he was glad to see them.

gamera

It’s not About Me

egomania

An artist’s rendition of myself.

I’ve been asked why this blog doesn’t have an about page.

Do you think I’m egomaniac who can’t stop talking about himself and who constantly refers to himself in the third person?

Well, idiotprufs doesn’t do that.

There are many valid reasons why I don’t have an about page and many of them have nothing to do with the outstanding warrants. Here are just a few.

  • All of the outstanding warrants. (Since when did society get so touchy about not wearing pants?)
  • When this blog did have an about page, it seemed to be a repository for diatribes of hate. I had to block Grandma from leaving comments altogether.
  • To prevent stalkers. I am constantly being stalked by women. Mostly it’s because they have subpoenas for me. But that’s still stalking.
  • Plausible deniability. If I blog about having a cousin who’s half spider monkey, I can claim it’s a different blogger who coincidentally has a cousin who’s half spider monkey. (It’s really me…don’t tell anyone.)
  • I’m trying to keep a low profile because of the alien abductions. I’m tired of all their probing. Not anal probing, they just ask me a lot really personal questions…although most of the questions are about my anus.
  • I’m trying to reduce the amount of times I get pepper-sprayed to ten or twelve times a year.
  • I’m boring. If you need to read about me to be entertained, you have serious problems. (The fact that you’re reading this blog right now is an indicator that you may have issues.)
  • I’m still being hunted by the mimes. It’s just a good thing all their weapons are imaginary. Stupid mimes.
  • I’m very reclusive. I’m like Howard Hughs without the money, fame, or achievement. It’s just me alone in a room with jars of toenail clippings.
  • Pure and unapologetic laziness. An about page is just so much effort.

I may relent in the near future and post something about myself–I’m horribly weak. (See, there’s something about me.)

Final Note: while I may have none of the achievements of Howard Hughs, I am dating Katherine Hepburn. Actually, it’s Katherine Hepburn’s ghost. She’s cheating on me with Spencer Tracey’s ghost. It’s all very disturbing.

Hepburn

“You’re no Howard Hughs–except for the debilitating paranoia.”

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