Love Hurts, but Not as Much as a Stab Wound
I felt it was time to re-post these beautiful and poignant words.
I wrote this during a period of deep personal healing…but mostly, I was drunk.
idiotpruf
The blog that prevents scurvy…as long as you eat orange slices while you read it.
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The Grasshopper and the Ant
One bright day in late autumn, a family of Ants was bustling about in the warm sunshine, drying out the grain they had stored up during the summer, when a starving Grasshopper, his fiddle under his arm, came up and humbly begged for a bite to eat.
“What!” cried the Ants in surprise, “haven’t you stored anything away for the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer?”
“I didn’t have time to store up any food,” whined the Grasshopper; “I was so busy making music that before I knew it, the summer was gone.”
The Ants shrugged their shoulders in disgust. “Making music, were you?” they cried. “Very well; now dance!” And they turned their backs on the Grasshopper and went on with their work.
The grasshopper realizing he was much bigger than the ants, pushed them down and took their food.
The next day the ants returned with about a million of their friends, hacked the grasshopper into pieces with their big bitey mandibles, and carried him back to their colony to feed the queen.
Moral
Ants are vindictive little bastards.
“If you play The Devil Goes Down To Georgia one more time…”
Local Man Upset by Giant Pile of Dung on Prius
Mr. Philbert J. Weedly
Bemidji, Minnesota–The authorities had to intervene when a dispute between two local residents radically escalated.
“Would you look at this,” exclaimed Philbert J. Weedly of Bemidji, Minnesota, as he motioned toward the Toyota Prius parked in his driveway, “it’s completely buried.”
At some point during the night, Mr. Weedly’s vehicle had become covered in a mountain of blue feces.
“I don’t see why he’s blaming me,” fellow Bemidji native Paul Bunyan replied, “if you ask me, that giant pile of blue crap could have come from any number of places–a lot of people don’t care for Weedly.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mr. Weedly said in exasperation.
Mr. Bunyan continued defending himself, “I really don’t think it’s fair to blame me every time someone’s car, their house, or their mouthy know-it-all wife, who deserved it, gets covered in a giant pile of blue crap.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mr. Weedly said again.
The dispute began when Mr. Bunyan challenged Mr. Weedly for the presidency of the local chapter of the Minnesota Sierra Club and defeated him in the chapter’s election.
“I just felt it was time for a new chapter in my life,” Mr. Bunyan explained.
“We all know what happened,” Mr. Weedly said. “He’s a legend of American folklore. He’s Minnesota’s favorite son. His footsteps created the 10,000 lakes. It’s all just a big popularity contest.”
“I know Paul Bunyan seems like a strange choice for the presidency of a Sierra Club chapter,” Milton Shipley, a member of the Sierra Club chapter, admitted, “I mean, he is literally known for chopping down trees. He’s just so freaking huge; how do you say no to him?”
“My wife was extremely vocal in her opposition of his candidacy,” another member, who wanted to remain anonymous, told us, “but then she was involved in a rather unfortunate incident involving Babe, Mr. Bunyan’s big blue ox. I don’t want to go into too much detail,” he said pausing for a moment, “Let’s just say she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t know what he feeds that thing, but the stench was foul. It’s been six months, and my wife’s hair still attracts flies.”
“It s— on me,” his wife said tersely.
The authorities have issued warnings to both Mr. Weedly and Mr. Bunyan. They also asked Mr. Bunyan to try and control where his blue ox relieves itself, but they told him from a distance.
“Do you call this justice?” Mr. Weedly said in a final statement of resignation. “Are you kidding me?”
The famed blue ox–I don’t know what he feeds it.
Sister City Disappointment
Sydney, Australia: a lovely sister city.
North East, Pennsylvania–The residents of the small village of North East, Pennsylvania received a dose of bad news upon discovering their sister city wasn’t what they believed it to be.
The village was ecstatic when it received a sister city request from Sydney, Australia. “We couldn’t believe our good fortune,” the mayor of North East said.
Upon traveling to Australia to accept the sister city request, officials from North East (the mayor and his life partner Bruce) discovered the request came not from the city of Sydney but from a guy named Sydney who lives in a shack at the bottom of a pit in the desert.
“The disappointment is bitter,” Bruce said of the development, “Sydney, Australia is a metropolis with renown architecture and a thriving art world; Sydney from Australia is a filthy foul-mouthed little man who lives in a pit and scratches his testicles far more than should be necessary.”
“I have genital chiggers,” Sydney explained, “they bite.”
The mayor and Bruce gave Sydney a case of the world-famous Welch’s grape jelly, produced right in North East from local concord grapes.
Sydney reciprocated with a half-full can of Foster’s beer that he poured back into the can from the dog bowl.
“Everything in Sydney’s shack is sticky,” the mayor commented, “absolutely everything.”
While Bruce has returned home from the disastrous trip, the mayor remains in Australia recovering from bites from a highly poisonous eastern brown snake and three types of poisonous spiders.
Sydney keeps poisonous spiders as pets; the snake was just bad luck.
“A kangaroo kicked me in the nuts,” Bruce said upon his return, “it was the best part of the trip.”
PennDOT Confirms Using Explosives to Fix Road
This stretch of road seems oddly smooth.
Erie, Pennsylvania–Officials from PennDOT have confirmed the explosions heard emanating from the Route 5 area of North East, Pennsylvania was, in fact, a road crew working on a stretch of the road between the towns of North East and Harborcreek.
The road crew was employing dynamite to blow a gaping hole in the road, remedying the fact that there wasn’t already a gaping hole in the road.
A PennDOT official had been traveling along Route 5 when he realized there was a stretch of road nearly 50 yards long without any potholes. “I was driving along when I realized the familiar rumbling and shaking from traversing Pennsylvania roadways had stopped for several seconds…it was very disconcerting.”
The stretch of roadway fell far below PennDOT standards, requiring at least 39% of any 100-foot stretch of Pennsylvania roadway to contain potholes, debris, drunken hobos, or strategically placed orange cones that guide motorists into a pond.
Upon discovering the problem, PennDOT moved with the efficiency and swiftness for which it is renowned and dispatched a road crew within a year and a half.
“Sure, we could have put small holes throughout that stretch of road, but that’s a lot of work,” the foreman of the road crew said. “We decided to go with one big hole in the middle.”
“Blowing **** up is fun,” one of the crew members, Ron, “eight fingers,” Smith commented.
The section of Route 5 in question is now almost entirely impassable, bringing it into accordance with PennDOT standards.
PennDOT suggests if you find yourself traveling along this stretch of road, take care to follow the detour signs and orange cones–they lead you into a pond.
“I told you we should have used dynamite.”
This Christmas Give the Gift of the Rutabaga
It’s Christmastime again: the perfect opportunity to brighten the spirits of a loved one with the gift of the rutabaga.
What’s so special about the rutabaga you may ponder–what isn’t so special about the rutabaga is my response.
- They can be roasted.
- They can be baked.
- They can be boiled as a flavor enhancer in soups.
- They can be boiled as a flavour enhancer in soups in Great Britain. (You wouldn’t believe how much tastier the soup is with that extra U in the word flavour.)
- They can be thinly julienned as a side dish, in a salad, or as a garnish.
- They can be thinly julienned and used to clean up oil spills in the driveway.
- They can be mashed into a paste and used to degrease engines.
- They can be mashed into a paste and used as a beautifying face cream. (It won’t make you more attractive, but it will cover your face–which if you’re being honest, is the problem.)
- You can make rutabaga ice cream.
- You can make a rudimentary boiled rutabaga stew that was a staple of famine-ridden Europe during the war and pretend you’re living in famine-ridden Europe during the war…because pretending is fun.
- You can chuck them at the heads of people you don’t like.
- You can chuck them at the heads of people you’re ambivalent about.
- You can chuck them at the heads of people you do like. (The thunk of a rutabaga bouncing off a human skull is surprisingly satisfying regardless of the target.)
- You can fill your child’s stocking with them. (But ensure they’re fresh; they can attract flies.)
- You can use them to attract flies.
- You can carve them into lanterns as was the old Irish tradition.
- You can carve them into lanterns and chuck them at people’s heads. (Hopefully the beginnings of a new tradition.)
- And finally, you can make the traditional Finnish Christmas dish Lanttulaatikko.
Lanttulaatikko is a delicious Finnish Christmas dish–you can also chuck it at people’s heads.
Addendum: Don’t make rutabaga ice cream–it sucks.
Your Children are Loud, Sticky, and Gross
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 your children, see them, smell them, or be in their general vicinity. And I certainly don’t want to touch them–unnecessary and unwanted touching is precisely 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, and confusion. Bleeding from the nose, mouth, gums, and rectum. Bruising, skin burns, open sores on the skin, and sloughing of skin. Dehydration. Diarrhea and 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 it’s already had enough and so should its mother.
So you and your 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!
If you need someone to watch your uranium or your children–I’ll take the uranium.
Virginia Zoo Misplaces Weird Looking Panda
The Virginia Zoo has announced that it has lost Sunny, its prized red panda. A frantic search was launched Tuesday morning when it was discovered Sunny wasn’t in her enclosure.
Upon investigation it was discovered a dimwitted caretaker named Ron was responsible for the escape. It seems Ron believing that Sunny was some weird raccoon that had gotten into the panda enclosure, opened the gate and shooed it away by manically waving a feces encrusted pitchfork and screaming, “git you weird raccoon, git.”
It seems the zoo has endured several odd mishaps at the hands of Ron; some of them involving misplaced animals, many of them involving feces, all of them disturbing.
“The biggest problem we have with Ron is that he is almost completely stupid,” one zoo official said. “He was kicked repeatedly in the head by a bongo antelope, and he was remarkably stupid before he got repeatedly kicked in the head by a bongo antelope. You should never try to collect animals’ feces by standing behind it with a bucket.”
Bongo antelopes prefer to do their business in private.
After days of searching, Sunny still has not been located. Zoo officials fear the red panda has escaped the boundaries of the Zoo.
“Ron has a way of driving things away,” the zoo official said. “Usually it’s women, but I guess this time it was a red panda.”
While the zoo officials remain hopeful, they do concede that when Ron drives something away, it generally flees the state and changes its name.
Addendum
While recalling one incident involving Ron, a wombat, and a bag of feces, one colleague began to laugh so hysterically he lost consciousness.
Wombat feces: they do look like brownies, especially if you’re an idiot.
Experts
Ours is a nation whose shores are teeming with experts. They are vital to our existence. We could barely function on a daily basis if not for these titans of knowledge, and purveyors of wisdom.
We know these things because it’s what they tell us.
We expect our experts to tell us much, and much they tell us:
- They tell us what to do.
- They tell us what not to do.
- They tell us what to think.
- They tell us what not to think.
- They tell us where we should go.
- They tell us where we shouldn’t go.
- They tell us not to be long-winded.
- But they use a lot of words to tell us.
- They tell us not to be abrupt.
- But they say it very abruptly.
- They tell us not to make things too complicated.
- They tell us not to make things too simple.
- They tell us how simple it is to not make things complicated.
- But they tell us in way that’s really complicated.
- They tell us what to say.
- They tell us what not to say.
- They tell us not to pronounce the T in the word often.
- But when they tell us, they pronounce the T in the word often.
- And they do it often.
- They tell us not to interrupt people.
- But they interrupt to tell us.
- They tell us what to write.
- They tell us what not to write.
- They tell us not to end a sentence with a preposition.
- But you can end a sentence with the word preposition.
- You can do it twice in a row.
- They tell us what to eat.
- They tell us what not to eat.
- They tell us how long to boil an egg.
- They tell us how long not boil an egg.
- Don’t boil eggs–poach them!
- Stop! Eggs are bad for you.
- Now they’re not.
- Now they are again.
- Now they’re not again, as long as you don’t put salt on them; salt is very bad for you.
- Now salt isn’t bad for you.
- Now it is again.
- They tell us not be contradictory.
- They tell us not to be smug.
- But they’re really smug about it.
- They tell us what to read.
- They tell us what not to read.
- Starting with seemingly endless and annoying lists.
- They tell us how to feel.
- They tell us how not to feel.
- When we feel miserable, they tell us why we feel miserable.
- When we don’t feel miserable, they tell us why we should feel miserable.
- When we feel happy, they knock some sense into us, so we can get back to the business of feeling miserable.
- They tell us what to do to avoid death.
- When we do what they say and die anyway, they tell our relatives why it wasn’t their fault.
- And they demonstrate to us the importance of employing high-powered lawyers, in the event that some people actually follow their advice.
If not for the tireless work of experts, how many of us would still be living under the dark veil of happiness.
It must be exhausting being an expert.
If you should happen to see an expert on the street today, be sure to stop and give them a heartfelt thank you.
If you don’t know how to properly give a heartful thank you: ask the expert, they’ll know.
Erie School District Adds Even More Bats
Millcreek, Pennsylvania–The Millcreek School District made national news last week when it armed its 500 teachers with 16 inch novelty baseball bats as a defense against school shooters.
“It was largely meant to be symbolic,” Millcreek School District Superintendent William Hall said, “of course you’re going to die in a hail of bullets if you try to stop an armed gunman with a toy bat…but symbolism is important in any life or death situation.”
But now the Millcreek School District has upped the ante: they have replaced the 16 inch black novelty bats with giant black Transylvanian vampire bats.
“I don’t know if it will keep potential gunmen out the school,” one teacher said, “but I’m not going back in there.”
“It’s the perfect solution,” Superintendent Hall said, “People are afraid of bats and people are afraid of vampires–I’m just stunned no one has thought of it before…I’m thinking about putting a bat on every school bus.”
Several students have been bitten and have described the simple act of attending school as terrifying.
“Welcome to Erie County,” Superintendent Hall said in response.
When asked if he would be arming his own office with a vampire bat the Superintendent replied, “are you crazy–those things are #!@$ing freaky.”
Addendum: in a note of clarification, Superintendent Hall informed us when he said people were afraid of vampires, he wasn’t referring to those sissy Twilight vampires that wax their chests and use too much hair product; he was referring to a proper Bela Lugosi vampire.
“You sissy Twilight vampires are really hurting our image.”
idiotpruf 