idiotpruf

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

Archive for the tag “fiction”

Leaping Lad Causes Fires

It seems a local lad named Jack has run afoul of the authorities by causing multiple conflagrations while attempting to leap over lit candlesticks.

After reporting to another blaze, in which he nearly burned down the home of a friend, the fire chief had had enough.

“He lit his own home on fire on multiple occasions,” the fire chief related. “In the first instance, there was minimal damage. The second time, there was slightly more damage than the first. The third time that he set his home on fire, a quick-thinking friend put the fire out. The fourth time, it was a complete loss; we had to drag him out of the house with his hair still smoking.”

After that, he moved into a friend’s house, the same friend who had helped him previously, and whose house he immediately set on fire. He would end up living in a shack, which he promptly burned down. Now he lives in the woods; the forestry service is very concerned.

Despite the authorities’ best efforts, Jack has continued to be a problem.

“We have forbidden him from purchasing candles, owning candles, lighting candles, and jumping over said candles. We have also forbidden him from purchasing matches, disposable lighters, Zippo lighters, and those flint spark lighters that you have to squeeze repeatedly and are a pain in the ass to use, virtually anything that you can use to start a fire,” The local Constable told us disgustedly. “If we see him so much as rubbing two sticks together, we will arrest him.”

When pressed as to why he continues to attempt to leap over lit candles despite the calamity he’s been causing, Jack’s answer was simple. “Jumping over a lit candle is good luck.”

“Do you know what’s not good luck?” The Fire Chief responded, “Having to run into a blazing inferno; that’s what isn’t good luck.”

“How hard is it to jump over a candlestick? I mean, it’s not that tall.” The constable added in disbelief. “He is a fat little bastard.”

Builder to Sue Three Little Pigs

“It’s given the whole straw house industry a bad name,” Cyril Tottering, the proprietor of Tottering Straw Homes Inc., complained.
Mr. Tottering’s business has taken quite a financial hit since the story of the Three Little Pigs has gotten out.
“Those pigs are blatant liars,” Mr. Tottering asserted, “you can’t just blow down one of my straw houses.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” the First Little Pig said, “The Big Bad Wolf huffed and puffed and coughed a bit; he was a smoker, but then he blew the house down.”
“My straw houses pass rigorous testing,” Mr. Tottering asserted.
“I guess none of that ‘rigorous testing’ involves a lit match,” the Third Little Pig responded snidely. “Tottering came around trying to sell me one of those crappy straw houses; I wouldn’t keep my dung pile in one of those things. My brother, the First Little Pig, kept bragging about how cheap his house was…look where that got him.”
“We could ask Mr. Wolf what really happened, but evidently, the pigs boiled him in oil,” Mr. Tottering explained. “That hardly seems like trustworthy behavior.”
“If you come down someone’s chimney uninvited, boiled in oil is what you’re gonna get,” The Third Little Pig stated. “We’re not just going to allow ourselves to be eaten-not by the hairs on our chinny chin chins.”
“What does that even mean: the hairs on our chinny chin chins? It pisses me off every time they say that.” Mr. Tottering scowled.
Mr. Tottering informed us that he and Mr. Dennis Flimsy, owner of Flimsy Stick Homes Inc., are teaming up to launch a defamation lawsuit against the Three Little Pigs.
“I wouldn’t keep my dung pile in one of those stick houses either,” the Third Little Pig chuckled. “Tottering and Flimsy: pretty aptly described if you ask me.”
“Those are our names!” Mr. Tottering yelled in exasperation.
“It seemed like an excellent deal at the time,” the First Little Pig explained.
“Who would think wolves have such lung capacity?” the Second Little Pig added.
Luckily for the Three Little Pigs, the Third Little Pig’s brick house was impervious to the wolf’s blowing.
“Our brother said that thing about his dung pile again, didn’t he?” the first little pig asked disgustedly.
“Yeah,” the second little pig said in conclusion, “he’s kind of a jerk about that big brick house of his.”

Resolve Yourself

calvin

As the new year arrives, the annual acts of introspection, personal assessment, and deep soul-searching are effervescing across the nation, spurring aspirations for self-improvement.

The New Year’s resolutions abound.

Some resolutions are to purge undesirable habits: smoking, picking your nose, being Joy Behar, punching people in the face who press you on what your New Year’s resolutions are.

Some resolutions are to adopt desirable habits: a healthy diet, good hygiene, not being Joy Behar, apologizing profusely after punching the person in the face who pressed you on what your New Year’s resolutions are.

Some people simply resolve to approach life with a more positive attitude toward their fellow man; they feel they can make the world a brighter place.

To all of this, I have one response: Wake Up Fools! Your fellow man sucks.

You’re awesome; it’s everybody else that needs to change.

To that end, here is my 2025 list of resolutions for others:

  • Don’t walk around on December 31st and say, “See you next year” to everyone you meet and chortle as if you’ve just invented it.
  • Don’t respond to the “See you next year” guy by sharpening a stick to a fine point and poking him in the eye with it as you say, “Now you won’t,” regardless of how appropriate it may seem.
  • If somebody says something you find funny, just laugh like a normal human being; don’t say lol out loud.
  • Don’t ride your skateboard in the middle of the street as if you own it; I will run you over, you smug little bastard.
  • Don’t run around showing people pictures of a footprint that you think is indisputable proof of Bigfoot. Your wife has hobbit feet and she walks around barefoot entirely too much.
  • Don’t place your new mooning garden gnome, Willard, facing your neighbor’s kitchen window.
  • Don’t act all surprised when your new mooning garden gnome, Willard, is mysteriously smashed to bits in the middle of the night.
  • Don’t accuse your neighbor of things you can’t prove.
  • Don’t inadvertently set your garage on fire while attempting to rid it of a hornet’s nest with a road flare. As funny as it was, you’re a menace to the neighborhood.
  • If you’re a mime, don’t be.
  • Don’t bring the express lane at the supermarket to a screeching halt by getting into a protracted conversation about your nephew Josh with the cashier. We’re all upset that he’s back in jail, but if you’re on probation, you shouldn’t be smoking crack.
  • If you’re on probation, don’t smoke crack.
  • If you are on probation and you are smoking crack, don’t do it in your car.
  • If you are on probation and you are smoking crack in your car, don’t do it while driving over the speed limit…or on the sidewalk.
  • Don’t post proof of your probationary violations on Facebook with the description: look what I did.
  • Don’t tweet about your incriminating Facebook post just to ensure everyone sees it.
  • Don’t assure someone that you have beer in your fridge and then hand them a Natural Light.
  • Put all the baby pictures away; your first three children were ugly, and I’m sure this one will be, too.
  • Everything your child does is not precious unless, by precious, you mean annoying beyond the ability to be described with words.
  • It’s never good to start a story with the phrase: my child did the most precious thing in juvenile court today.
  • Don’t get all pissy when you see something on a list that you think may pertain to you; it absolutely does pertain to you. Learn from it.
  • Finally and simply: don’t pretend you’re not a moron if you are a moron (you know who you are).

Addendum: I saw the picture of your baby; he looks like a potato.

Willard R.I.P.  We barely knew you.
Willard R.I.P.
We barely knew you.

One Shovel a Myriad of Uses

Have you ever noticed how an object can have more than one use?
Take, for instance, a standard shovel. You could use a shovel to dig a hole; you could also use it to smash an ugly porcelain frog into a thousand tiny pieces.
Two completely different uses.
You could then use your shovel to bury the thousand tiny pieces of the porcelain frog in the hole that you have already dug, preferably before your neighbor discovers what you’ve done to his porcelain frog.
Let’s be honest: if your neighbor didn’t want his frog smashed into a thousand tiny pieces, he shouldn’t have bought a frog that was so ridiculously ugly and made of fragile material like porcelain; he might as well have put a sign next to it that read: please smash me, I’m ugly and fragile, and I don’t deserve to exist.
On second thought, there could be confusion if your neighbor happened to be standing next to the sign; that sign could be readily misinterpreted; your neighbor is also ugly and fragile.
Also, your neighbor’s personality is such that it wouldn’t take much of a nudge to push a person from the mere impulse of violence to a case of full-blown assault.You, of course, limited your aggression to the porcelain frog–for now.
As luck would have it when you dug the hole earlier in the day, you had no plans for it; you just dug the hole out of the sheer enjoyment of digging a hole. Then you saw the porcelain frog, and the whole thing just came together.
When your neighbor accuses you of smashing his porcelain frog and burying it in your backyard, you can tell him to go ahead and see for himself because you have the perfect hole-digging implement for such a task. Of course, you had the foresight to bury an active landmine next to the dispatched porcelain frog; you were on a hole-digging spree.
“Go dig it up,” you’ll urge him. “You have a 50/50 chance of not being blown to hell.” Then, you will laugh manically as he angrily trudges back into his house in an act of total defeat. Unless he’s going inside to call the authorities, the second of those two possibilities is probably more likely. Ugly, fragile people have the tendency to tattle.
You could use the shovel to bolt your door before the ATF arrives in preparation for the inevitable stand-off; you are getting a ton of positive use out of your shovel today. 

Do you see all the different uses there are for a common shovel?

Rise of the (Coffee) Machines (Short Story) – by Oliver Giggins

GeeksBearingGifs's avatar

When the apocalypse came and the robots rose up, it wasn’t begun by a military program. It wasn’t due to a prototype, or a mistake.

In fact, robots had been common place for years. So no one batted an eye-lid when a coffee-chain brought on robots as cleaning staff. Why should they? Robots don’t need paying and don’t complain.

But then they didn’t see…

You see, there are some things Man was not meant to know. Some things Man was not meant to do. Some things Man should never have contemplated.

One of them was programming robots to “clean the cafe up” without giving any of those terms a proper definition.

It didn’t take long before the cleaning robots realised the quickest way of controling rubbish was atomising customers on entry.

And they may have been right as from that point on, the place was spotless.

Needless to say, eventually the…

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