idiotprufs

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

Archive for the tag “idiocy”

A Quick PSA for Loud-mouthed Pricks

loud mouth

“Act just like me–I’m cool.”

I have a quick message for all the fun loving people loud-mouthed idiots out there who think I should behave the way they do.

Stop It!

Just because you want dance on a table, juggling shot glasses, butchering the lyrics to Love Shack at the top of your lungs, as your testicles dangle from your pants, doesn’t mean that I also want to do that.

I don’t want to see that happening.

I don’t want to be within the proximity of that happening.

I don’t even want the knowledge of that ever occurring.

I assume as a male of the species you have testicles–I don’t need proof.

And I know what’s in my own mind.

If I say I don’t want to pound shots of tequila–I don’t want to pound shots of tequila. I know you think it’s not a party until you’ve vomited on someone’s shoes, but not everyone appreciates having to clean chunks out of their shoelaces.

And for the love of all that is good and merciful, stop trying to make me sing karaoke. We defeated Japan in World War II and they gave us karaoke–let’s just call it even.

Also, why do we excuse boorish behavior based on the fact that it’s habitual.

If a person acts like a jerk once or twice, he’s being a jerk. However, if a person has a pattern of acting like a jerk it’s simply sloughed off as a personality trait.

If Timothy acts like a giant prick today–then Timothy is being a giant prick.

But if Timothy acts like a giant prick on a daily basis, multiple times a day with a seemingly limitless reservoir of giant prickness–then that’s just Tim being Tim.

Wrong!

Timothy is a giant prick! Period!

It’s like saying: sure Theodore Bundy was kidnapper, rapist, necrophile who confessed to torturing and murdering over thirty young women, but that was just Ted being Ted.

And stop describing your giant prick behavior as: “just keeping it real.”

You’re really a giant loud-mouthed prick.

Thank you for allowing me to get that off me chest. I feel much better now.hush now

Physically Fit to be Tied–And a Bit Older

image credit: TMZ

(image credit: TMZ)

“Are you physically fit?” bellowed the man on the television screen as he jabbed a muscular finger in my direction.

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed, a bit startled by the suddenness of the question.

“Are you physically fit?” he persisted. This man was loud, muscle bound, and so deeply tanned that where ever he was, he must have been near the surface of the sun.

“You’re getting older,” he continued.

I am getting older, I thought, nearly every day.

“Do you even know what it means to be physically fit?”

I had to admit that I really didn’t.

“Of course you don’t know what it means, you’re a tiny pathetic weed of a man.”

I still didn’t know what it meant, was a little insulted, but wished that someone would tell me.

“Well I’m going to tell you.” He seemed to be reading my mind. “Physical fitness is the ability of the body to function with vigor and alertness, and with ample energy to engage in leisure activities. Endurance and cardio respiratory integrity are the overt signs of physical fitness.

Well this was absolutely no help at all.

My body functions with vigor and alertness, in as much as I seldom fall asleep when I don’t want to. I have endurance; I can run over one-hundred feet before the searing pain in my side renders me unconscious. As far as cardio respiratory integrity goes, my heart’s been beating for my entire life and hasn’t stopped yet, how much more integrity do you need?

Ample energy for leisure activities? Any activity that requires an amount of energy that can be characterized as ample, isn’t leisurely at all.

Here are a few activities that I don’t consider leisurely: running, jogging, speed walking, walking normally over long distances, walking slowly up an incline, lifting heavy objects, carrying heavy objects, lifting then subsequently carrying heavy objects, rock climbing. Rocks should never be climbed, if you’re trying to get somewhere and there is a rock in the way, go around it or blow it up. Why do think Alfred Nobel invented dynamite? They didn’t name that award after him because he wasted his time scrabbling up and down rocks.

It was at this point that the man on the screen began doing squat-thrusts. There has never been a time in the history of mankind that it was necessary to do a squat-thrust.

I decided to change the channel. Eventually I found a man reclined in a hammock, sipping a drink through a straw as waves washed a sun soaked beach in the background.

Now that’s a leisurely activity; one for which I have ample energy.

idiotpruf

Goofy has the idea.
(image source: wondersofdisney.com)

Man Jailed After Destructive Tirade

monkey North East PA

Monkey shocked by recent events.

North East, Pennsylvania–In a bizarre story involving a construction site, a mischievous monkey, and a bulldozer; a man was taken into custody following a destructive tirade.

It seems the man, who was traveling with the monkey, had stopped at a local market to pick up a few things. While he was inside, the monkey made his way across the street and onto a construction site where he found an idling bulldozer.

I look up and I see the bulldozer tearing across the lot,” said Dirk, one of the construction workers who witnessed the incident. “I thought that Earl had lost his mind, but then I look and I see this freakin’ monkey, and he’s driving the bulldozer. We always joke with Earl that a monkey could drive a bulldozer…I guess we were right.”

According to Dirk, the monkey swerved around the lot before making a beeline toward the Porta-Johns. “Guys were jumping up and down and waving the monkey away from the Porta-Johns…the monkey just waved back. The bulldozer hit those Porta-Johns, and they went flying through the air. They hit the ground and blew into pieces; they really aren’t made for that type of thing. It’s a good thing no one was in them…except for Earl that is.”

Yeah that’s right,” another witness confirmed. “From out of the Porta-John rubble climbs Earl, covered with crap, literally.”

According to witnesses, it was at this point the man in question arrived.

This guy dressed in a yellow suit comes running across the lot and screaming at the monkey. I mean, from head to toe everything he’s got on is yellow–that’s weird isn’t it?” Dirk commented.

Everyone agreed that it was a little weird.

So now the guy is chasing the monkey on the bulldozer. He’s trying to grab the monkey but the monkey won’t let him. Each time the guy gets close, the monkey hurls crap at him. The monkey is steering with one hand and hurling crap with the other. He really puts Earl to shame…driving a bulldozer I mean–not hurling crap.  Anyway, the guy in yellow is ducking and dodging the monkey crap, and he’s really quick, like he’s done this before. But then, he catches one square in the forehead. The guy just stops dead in his tracks, he gets this crazy look in his eyes and he starts screaming: ‘that’s it, that’s the limit.'”

Many of the witnesses told the authorities they had never seen a man with such a wild look in his eyes.

I guess the monkey could tell he was in trouble, because it jumps off the bulldozer and tears off. Then the man in yellow hat gets on the bulldozer, and now he’s chasing the monkey. He’s smashing through walls and knocking things over, the monkey’s scrambling around with the bulldozer right on his tail. The monkey climbs over a pick-up truck to get away, but the man just plows into the truck, and the truck flips over. Earl’s screaming and running over there because it’s his truck.

The police arrived on the scene shortly afterward.

I just couldn’t take it anymore,” the man in yellow told police as they took him away. “He just keeps getting into more and more trouble, and it’s really pissing me off.

Animal control came and retrieved the monkey, but not before the monkey stole their tranquilizer gun, climbed a pole, and put four rounds in Earl’s buttocks.

It was not a good day for Earl.

When asked to comment, Earl said only, “F******  monkey.”

I heard the man in yellow refer to the monkey as George,” Dirk said reflectively. “That monkey sure was a curious little thing.”

porta-john

Pre-monkey Porta-Johns.

Own Worst Critic?

I recently heard you say that you are your own worst critic.

You clearly have no idea what people are saying behind your back. You don’t seem to grasp what people are saying to your face.

In fact, you seem to be far more pleased with yourself than the facts or the opinions of others would justify.

Maybe you just don’t understand what the word repugnant means. The word repugnant is not positive.

Nor is the word maximum-repugnacious.

Maximum-repugnacious is a made-up word. People are coining new derogatory phrases to describe you–that’s bad.

The breadth of the English language doesn’t contain enough pejorative terms to adequately describe your horribleness.

Let’s look at the definition of the word repugnant:

adjective
distasteful, objectionable, or offensive:
a repugnant smell.
making opposition; averse.
opposed or contrary, as in nature or character.

When your name crops up in the same sentence as words like: repugnant, distasteful, objectional, offensive, malodorous, repulsive, vomit-inducing, or shit-for-brains, it isn’t positive.

Regardless of how many times you’ve been referred to as shit-for-brains, you never seem to take it as an insult.

Why do you think people don’t describe Albert Einstein as that shit-for-brains patent clerk who eventually did something sciency?

It would take a shit-for-brains person to say something like that about Albert Einstein. Do you remember the time you said that about Albert Einstein?

I guess my point is: your critics are voluminous and well deserved.

You’re probably readings this right now, chuckling to yourself, and thinking: I wonder who this is about.

You shit-for-brains.

Albert Einstein: unlike you, not a shit-for-brains.

Spicy Boys and Petitions

Spicy.

Have you ever looked at something and thought: the name given to that thing is entirely wrong? I could think of something better.

Well that happened to a man in New Zealand as he was sitting on the toilet. He said the following:

i saw a fire ant while pooping and i thought of a better name. spicy boy is better. i also threw toilet paper at it. i didnt want it to crawl into my pants and underwear.

So this person started a petition on change.org to have fire ants renamed spicy boys.

And you thought New Zealand was all hobbits and Lucy Lawless. Shame on you.

Unfortunately the petition is now closed with a total of 2,832 supporters, and I far as I know, fire ants are still fire ants.

But I have been inspired.

Following in these footsteps of brilliance, I am now in the process of filing the following petitions:

  • Sack Nancy Pelosi as House Majority Leader and replace her with Flo from the Progressive commercials.
  • Change the Capitol from Washington D.C. to Hershey, Pennsylvania–and everyone gets free chocolate.
  • Replace the stodgy old image of the bald eagle on U.S. currency, with a hilarious drawing of Woody Woodpecker.
  • Create a third house of Congress comprised completely of losing contestants from the Bachelorette.
  • Every family in the country gets a helper monkey named Mojo.
What could be more helpful than this?

What could be more helpful than this?

  • The new Chief Justice of the Supreme Court: Judge Reinhold.
  • Any time Judge Reinhold enters a courtroom, Kid Rock’s “American Badass,” plays in the background.
  • The Super Bowl halftime show will be replaced by Justin Bieber and The Pope engaged in a knife fight to the death.
  • The following year the winner takes on a Kardashian…any Kardashian.
  • The closing bell on Wall Street to be replaced with a recording of Porky Pig stammering the words, “that’s all folks.”
  • People who drive slowly in the fast lane, will have their drivers licenses immediately revoked. They will also be required to write a 5000 word essay on why they’re an imbecile. (There may also be a Super Bowl halftime knife fight involved.)
  • Everyone gets a blimp.
  • The state capitol of New York is to be moved from Albany to Cooperstown. The new governor: Ted Williams’ frozen head.
  • Bigfoot will be made the Pennsylvania state bird. (I know it doesn’t make any sense–have you read this blog before?)
  • Girls named Amanda will no longer be allowed to purchase pepper spray or recklessly bandy around the word stalker.
  • People who make nonsensical lists will be forced to pay for what they’ve done.

If I have missed anything, let me know.

Introducing your new congressmen.

Introducing your new congressmen (American Badass plays in the background)

 

 

Reefer Madness and a Bit of Math

pot shop

Albert Einstein almost never hung out here.

Dutch researchers have done it again.

From the people who have already given us windmills, Holstein cows, gouda cheese, Heineken, orange carrots (seriously, orange carrots-look it up), and crucially: the idea that my date will pay for her own meal, comes another breakthrough.

Dutch researchers have determined that students who were banned from smoking marijuana in Dutch coffee shops were found to be more likely to pass exams, specifically math based ones.

The effect is “five times larger” for courses requiring quantitative thinking and maths-based tasks, the researchers wrote. They then crossed out that figure and changed it to “four times larger” before crossing out that figure and changing it to “ten times larger.” They then admitted that they were quite confused and unsure of the figures–they had been smoking a lot of pot that day. They then put on some Steely Dan records and sent out for munchies.

Note: in an unrelated study, Dutch researchers have discovered that people who repeatedly whomp themselves in the face with a wooden shoe, are more likely to suffer from headaches than people who don’t. Additionally, people who drink a case of Heineken every day are even more likely to whomp themselves in the face with a wooden shoe, but less likely to feel the effects. The Dutch are freakin’ awesome.

The Dutch, known for their thoroughness and incredible dyke building skills, have compiled a list of activities hindered by the use of marijuana:

  • Basic math skills.
  • Advanced math skills.
  • Common core math (actually, heavy drug use helps with this).
  • Operating heavy machinery.
  • Operating heavy machinery while trying to remember the lyrics of your favorite Grateful Dead song.
  • Operating heavy machinery while remembering that your favorite Grateful Dead song has no lyrics; it’s just 25 minutes of twangy guitar music.
  • Taking deep breaths without hacking up a lung.
  • Finding Lake Titicaca on a map.
  • Saying the name Lake Titicaca without giggling uncontrollably.
  • Not giggling uncontrollably.
  • The ability to have a conversation with a person without referring to him as “man” repeatedly.
  • The ability to enter a grocery store without purchasing a case of Twinkies.

Additionally, the Dutch have discovered in manufacturing companies where marijuana use is prevalent among its workers, production levels have seen a substantial drop. However, this doesn’t apply to companies that produce tie-dye clothing; drug use in those companies seems to cause an explosion of production…at least until everyone gets hungry and starts searching for munchies.

Note: it is a little known fact that tie-dye was invented in 1928, when after eating a tainted breakfast burrito, Walt Disney vomited on a co-workers shirt, and really liked the way it looked. He then drew something about a mouse on a steamboat. The Dutch don’t invent everything.

Meanwhile in North Korea:

Man Claims Ghost Planted Drugs Found in Home


police man

A man in Louisiana was arrested after police arrived at his home in response to a purported assault. The man, cops say, had called 911 to claim that he had been “stabbed on the head by an axe.”

When officers arrived at the man’s West Monroe home, they determined that he was not suffering from any axe wounds (he did have a fairly nasty papercut and those can be really painful). Cops did, however, spot in plain view on a night stand a open brown paper containing approximately 1 gram of suspected methamphetamine.

According to the man, a ghost may have put it there.

Is it not patently obvious what is happening here: this poor man is being haunted by an apparition that not only stabs him on the head with an axe, but also plants drugs and drug paraphernalia in his home. I also suspect that troublemaking ghost had something to do with that nasty paper cut.

“It’s ridiculous,” one of the responding officers commented, “you can’t stab someone with an axe; you chop someone with an axe. You can pretty much hack a person to bits if you have a good axe…all in all this was a disappointing crime scene.”

Quizzed by cops, the man said that “a ghost or intruders” planted the drugs before climbing out a bedroom window. This claim, investigators determined, “was not accurate.”

“Climbing out windows is not normal modus operandi for ghosts,” the officer said, “they tend walk through walls or disappear into an ethereal mist…this was a very disappointing crime scene.”

The man was charged with narcotics possession and making a false report to police.

The ghost has yet to be located, but the police are still looking.

casper

Be on the lookout for this ghost. He’s white, translucent, and is purported to be friendly.

Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants

nerd idiotprufs ants

The Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ant. How would like to get a package of these?

In a previous post, But Seriously, I described my use of Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants when dealing with critics. When I receive criticism I feel is unwarranted, I drop a package in the mail to the critic. The package contains a colony of the ants in question. The label on the package reads: shake roughly before opening. (The only thing Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants hate more than critics is to be shaken roughly.)

Note: For criticism to reach the Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ant level, it has to really hurt my feelings; if I exhale a feeble whimper followed by a pained, why, upon receiving the criticism, you’re getting ants in the mail.

It would seem there some people out there who don’t believe that Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants are real. People who all sudden seem to be experts on Amazonian wildlife and entomology. People who say they’ve done their own research and can’t find any evidence of the existence of such an insect.

Hey people, Wikipedia doesn’t know everything.

These people claim that no self-respecting taxonomist would give an ant such a silly name.

Things are often given weird or inappropriate names. Have you ever seen a person and immediately thought to yourself: that person’s parents misnamed him; his name should be Rat-Bastard Morgan instead of Piers.

Note: my deepest apologies to Piers Morgan and his family, that was entirely uncalled for, but I really like that joke.

They also say that ants don’t sting: they bite.

Nature provides us with many oddities and exceptions: mammals don’t lay eggs, but the duck-billed platypus does. Birds don’t swim under water, but penguins do. Humans don’t shed their skin like snakes, but Hugh Hefner did. The list goes on and on.

Note: my apologies to Hugh Hefner and his family–may he rest in peace–but he was kind of a snake.

Let’s say for the sake of argument, the name Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants, is in fact, a product of my fertile if not slightly warped mind.

Who’s to say such an insect doesn’t already exist. There have been over 400 hundred new species of plants and animals discovered in the Amazonian rain forest in recent years, including a monkey that purrs like a kitten and a vegetarian piranha.

Note: the vegetarian piranha was classified as Piersus Morganus, the monkey they called Ted.

Perhaps one of those 400 hundred discoveries is an insect whose sheer nature and attributes demand it be classified as a Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ant.

Just the other day I read an article about a researcher on the Amazon River who discovered a previously unknown water fowl. The water fowl was infested with a previously unknown type of tick. The tick bit the researcher and infected him  with a previously unknown and highly infectious disease.

The disease would have incubated within his body over a period of months and the researcher would have unwittingly unleashed a devastating epidemic upon the populace.

Half the population would have suffered from the following symptoms:

  • Nausea.
  • Dizziness.
  • A rash on their butts in the shape Mickey Rooney’s face.
  • A rash on their faces in the shape of Mickey Rooney’s butt.
  • Dry mouth.
  • Itchy scalp.
  • Dry itchy mouth and or scalp.
  • All cheese will taste like wire.
  • All other food will taste like cheese, but the nasty kind like Limburger.
  • Migraines.
  • Chipmunks will throw pine cones at their heads.
  • Migraines from being hit in the head with pine cones.
  • They would have become obsessed with Kayne West and Kim Kardashian, droning on endlessly about their babies and how beautiful and perfect their lives are.

The other half of the population would have become depressed and suicidal, mostly due to the fact that the first half of the population were droning on endlessly about Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, their babies and how beautiful and perfect their lives are.

Luckily the researcher was then bitten by a common poisonous snake and died straight away.

The point being: for all you critics out there doubtful of the existence of Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants, you might just receive a package in the mail containing a hive of Raging Bolivian Biting Wasps. Remember to shake it roughly.

Addendum:

I know there are some of you out there who are doubtful of the monkey that purrs like a kitten and the vegetarian piranha. Do you think I just make this stuff up?

nerd monkey idiotprufs

Ted, the monkey that purrs like a kitten.

 

Leprechauns Invade Speedeez Sports Bar and Grill


idiotprufs, leprechaun
North East, Pa–This Saint Patrick’s Day the small town of North East, Pennsylvania has been overrun by leprechauns. It seems a local watering hole, Speedeez, has attracted the diminutive green-clad creatures.

“They just came out of nowhere,” one patron exclaimed, “literally, they just popped out of thin air.”

Evidently Speedeez was offering a discount on drinks to anyone dressed like a leprechaun.

“I don’t know how they heard about our special all the way over in Ireland,” one of the bartenders questioned.

“We’re Leprechauns, not gnomes–we know how to use the internet,” Blinky McKnob responded disgustedly.

“You’d think having a bar full of leprechauns on St. Patrick’s Day would be a boon…but then they started drinking,” the establishment’s manager said. “We’re out of Guinness. We’re out of Baileys. We’re out of almost everything; it turns out they’ll drink most anything except scotch–something about the Scottish House of Stuart and a war in 1644. They won’t drink scotch, but they will urinate on it–those leprechauns certainly can hold a grudge.”

“Did you know Leprechauns have green pee?” One of the bartenders asked. “Well, neither did I before today. And they keep trying to pay with gold,” she said as held up a piece of gold, “how the @$#% am I supposed to make change for this?”

“Yeah, they got really drunk and started griping about what a sellout pussy the Lucky Charms leprechaun is,” one of the regular patrons said. “Then tempers really flared when another regular known as Poe referred to the leprechauns as fairies. One of the leprechauns waved his hand, said something in Gaelic and Poe just disappeared.

“It’s not really a big loss,” one of the bartenders said as she chuckled.

“I think next year we’ll just have green beer,” the manager said in exasperation.

idiotprufs, luck the leprechaun

The sellout Leprechaun himself.

Where Have the Clowns Gone?

scary clown idiotprufs

“Stop crying, Timmy, and cut your birthday cake.”

Prepare yourself for a shock–there is an impending clown shortage.

It is not possible for me to over-exaggerate the gravity of this situation.

Note: I’m sorry, if you’ve read this blog in the past, you know that over-exaggerating the gravity of the situation is exactly what I’m about to do and I going to do it wildly.

Evidently, the desire to dress-up in outlandish clothing, slather on huge amounts of make-up, and go out into public and behave in a ridiculous and childish manner, has fallen out of vogue since Jersey Shore went off the air.

“What’s happening is attrition,” said Glen Kohlberger, Clowns of America International President. He then honked his nose like a bicycle horn and hit the reporter in the face with a pie. “The older clowns are passing away and today’s youth just doesn’t want to smell like elephant crap,” he lamented.

The problems that will arise from the clown shortage are many:

  • Unable to acquire a clown for your child’s tenth birthday party, you will be forced to hire a sweaty guy in a SpongeBob SquarePants costume. Bitter that he can’t find a better job, he will go on a alcohol fueled rampage. The lasting memory of your child’s tenth birthday party will be of a beloved cartoon character being brought down with a taser and dragged away in handcuffs, reeking of urine.
  • Ronald McDonald will be portrayed by a small Latvian woman with broken English.
  • Without proper rodeo clowns, bull-riders, once thrown from the rampaging bulls, will be at the bull’s mercy. Instead of being heroic figures, bull-riders will simply be known as: those guys who used to have testicles.
  • The art of making balloon animals will vanish from the face of the Earth. (Except for balloon snakes; we’ll still have those.)
  • Mimes will rise to a position of unprecedented power. In a silent coup (See what I did there?) they will seize control of the world and rule it with an iron fist. The population will be forced to wear white face make-up and dress like Frenchmen. People will flee into the wilderness and children will weep bitterly. When opposition to their authoritarian rule surfaces, they will do that thing where they wipe away fake tears, and it will really piss you off. Society will decay beyond repair, and centuries from now, Charlton Heston will find a ruined Statue of Liberty on the shoreline. He will fall to his knees and wail: You maniacs! You blew it up! Oh,damn you! Damn you all to hell!
  • It will be bad.

Note: If you’re going to a birthday party for your child, get a monkey in a cowboy hat; you can never go wrong with a monkey in a cowboy hat.

monkey in a cowboy hat

Seriously, you can’t go wrong.

 

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