idiotprufs

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

Archive for the tag “idiot”

The Family Thanksgiving Without a Stabbing…Fingers Crossed

 

Bourbon

The Wild Turkey at your family’s Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is just a few days away and you’re still trying to recover from the previous years festivities.

Your Uncle Gabe attempted to fry the turkey in a deep fryer, which led to him setting fire to most of the barn, part the house, and all of his face. He burned off all of his hair. (Even the hair around his naughty bits.)

Your Uncle Finster was on his way when he was pulled over by a police officer, which led to the following conversation:

Police Officer: there are 15 empty cans of Coors Light on the seat next to you.

Uncle Finster: it’s a long drive–at least 20 minutes.

Police Officer: there’s a child in the backseat playing with a revolver.

Uncle Finster: it’s not loaded.

Police Officer: the child next him is playing with the bullets.

Uncle Finster: don’t worry, she never shares.

Luckily for Finster the police officer was called away due to a convenience store being robbed.

Your cousin Milton was arrested for robbing a convenience store.

It turned into a hostage situation, but since he was the only customer, he was forced to take himself hostage. The police stormed the store, so he shot himself leg. As they dragged him away he was heard yelling, “I didn’t want to do it, but they gave me no choice.”

Your cousin Milton is stupid.

Your aunt Peggy announced that she had taken one of those DNA tests and discovered she is 46% troll. She declared she was going to leave your uncle Karl, live under a bridge, never bathe, consume nothing but other people refuse and rats, and engage in occasional tussles with goats.

Basically her normal routine, just under a bridge.

Your uncle Karl seemed pretty okay with it all.

There were two stabbings last year, but that was down from previous years. You’re hoping that trend continues.

There’s bound to be a few drunken brawls, but you hid your uncle Philbert’s crossbow, so nobody should lose an eye this year.

Your in-laws will gather outside around a barrel fire like a homeless rabble and drink copious amounts of liquor as they shiver and lament their obvious and dreadful life choices. But at least they’ll be outside.

Your aunt Zelda will bring her famous potato salad, so there will be vomiting…some of it projectile. But you’ve invested in a case of Pepto Bismol and a disposable mop.

This year you’re feeling good about things. You’re feeling confident. You’re feeling prepared. You’re feeling hopeful.

Who are you kidding–it’s going to be a disaster.

police lights

“Can’t we have just one Thanksgiving dinner that isn’t lit by police lights?”

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What the Hell, Greenland?

children on ice

Greenlanders playing on a giant piece of ice, and not visiting this blog.

So I was perusing the map on my stats page that indicates where page views originate when I made a disturbing discovery: there are 183 countries and territories represented, but there was not one page view from Greenland.

What the hell, Greenland?

I understand that Greenland has a population of only 56,000 people, but all I’m asking for is one page view.

Do you know what this is, Greenland?

It’s a list of places from which this blog has received one page view–I’m not greedy.

This blog has received multiple page views from Côte d’Ivoire and St. Kitts and Nevis.

That second place is clearly made-up.

And don’t try telling me to leave you alone because Greenland is cold and desolate and miserable. I don’t want to hear any of that whimpering–I live near Erie, Pennsylvania!

Let’s get to it, Greenland–I will be awaiting your response.

Addendum

My apologies to St. Kitts and Nevis–you are a real place.

st. kitts

St. Kitts and Nevis has a population of only 55,000 people–are you paying attention, Greenland?

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.

Idiotprufs’ Tips for Halloween


jack-o-lantern
It’s the time of the year for spooks, goblins, witches, monsters, ghouls, and all manner of beastly and horrifying creatures…but enough about your family reunion, this post is about tips for Halloween.

Halloween Tip #1

When you’re carving your jack-o-lantern, you should try your best not cut your thumb off. But if you do happen to sever a digit: use it. Your jack-o-lantern covered with blood spatter and with a severed thumb next to it will be the hit of the neighborhood.

Halloween Tip #2

Don’t cheap out on the treats. You don’t want to be that person in the neighborhood who passes out pennies or walnuts or apples. Have you ever been pelted in the face with pennies or walnuts or apples? It stings. 

Remember: other people’s children are all dull-witted potato-faced monsters who belong in juvie, (your children, however, are precious) don’t give them a reason to egg your house.

And don’t be that guy that gives out toothbrushes; you’re just asking for house to be burned down.

Halloween Tip #3

If some of those rapscallion neighborhood kids should decide to play tricks on you regardless of the generosity of your treat giving, you need to be prepared.

There are dozens of tactics I could advise, but it really condenses to three simple words: release the hounds.

Halloween Tip #4

Always keep a good lawyer on retainer. (See Halloween Tip #3.)

Halloween Tip #5

Have no regrets.

It’s the day after Halloween and you’re cleaning egg from the side of your house, (next year those little dull-witted potato-faced monsters are getting pennies) and the lawsuits are already going forward. (See Halloween Tip #3 again.) 

You try to text your friend about your troubles, but you find texting is just one of the many things that is much more difficult without a thumb. While your severed thumb looked great next to the jack-0-lantern, a crow flew away with it almost immediately so really didn’t get the full benefit the effect. 

Halloween Tip #6

Screw Halloween.

trick or treaters

Next year you little dull-witted potato-faced monsters are getting pennies.

 

How to Appreciate Poetry in a Right and Proper Way

 

bullwinkle

Bullwinkle, appreciating the hell out some poetry.

Every now and again, when I’m feeling intellectually illiterate or a bit lowbrow, (anyone who has read this blog to any extent can understand how frequently that may be) I will resolve the feeling by appreciating poetry.

I just head to my closet, yank out my poetry sack, pull out a big wad of poetry, and appreciate the hell out of it.

Note: my poetry sack also serves as a repository for random unmatched socks.

When appreciating poetry in a right and proper way, there are a few things that are key:

Comprehension

If you can even remotely understand the meaning of a poem, it isn’t a proper poem. Poems tend to be vague or nebulous. Poets like to throw around a dizzying menagerie of random imagery, designed to confuse and disorient. If you’ve just finished reading a poem and you haven’t vomited in your mouth a bit, it isn’t proper poetry.

Symbolism

When a poet writes a poem about a leaf being blown from a tree, falling to the ground, and being trampled underfoot, he’s not actually writing about a leaf being blown from a tree, falling to the ground, and being trampled underfoot.

The leaf represents hopelessness, and the futility of a life marred by series of tragic events. The leaf being blown from the tree represents a life spiralling into an alcohol fueled abyss of despair. The leaf being trampled underfoot represents the crushing weight of an uncaring world and inevitable grip of death.

A morbid bunch–poets.

Emotional Response

Poems are written to evoke an emotional response from its readers. Once after reading a collection of poems by Sylvia Plath, I spent hours curled-up on the floor in the fetal position as I sobbed uncontrollably.

An excerpt from Daddy, one of Sylvia Plath’s best known poems:

If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two——
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There’s a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.

Holy Crap! Right?

Note: I don’t want to paint the picture that all poets are emotionally distressed alcoholics with father issues– but the really good ones are.

But Limericks Are Fun
Limericks are short humorous poems with a strict meter and A-A-B-B-A rhyme scheme. They tend to revolve around a man with an odd ability, from a small island off the coast of Massachusetts.
Sonnets
Sonnets are fourteen line poems that rose to popularity in the 13th century. They tend to be written by William Shakespeare and lovelorn teenage boys who are trying to impress teenage girls who are way out of their league.
Haiku
Haiku is not proper poetry, let’s all just stop pretending that it is.
Epic Poems
These are lengthy poems that generally involve deeds of heroism. A few examples of epic poems: Divine Comedy by Dante, Paul Revere’s Ride by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Horton Hears a Who by Theodor Seuss Geisel.
Dr. Seuss
Don’t be fooled by this charlatan, while he may be the brilliant author of dozens of classic children’s books, he is not and has never been a medical professional.
Emily Dickinson vs. Angie Dickinson

Be sure that you know the difference. You don’t want to be chatting up a girl who is gushing over her love of Emily Dickinson when you say, “I know, she was smoking hot in Big Bad Mama.” Seriously– it ends badly.

angie Dickinson

This is not Emily Dickinson.

Interesting Fact
The Baltimore Ravens, the NFL franchise in Baltimore, is named after Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven.
Note: if I had named the NFL franchise in Baltimore after an Edgar Allan Poe poem, I would have called them the Baltimore Conquering Worms. How much cooler would that have been?
A Moment of Braggadocio
I once wrote an essay in college, explicating The Tyger by William Blake, on which I received a grade of 99%. Take that doubters.
You Are Now Ready
You are now ready to pull out your own poetry sack, and start appreciating the hell out of poetry.
Final Note
I don’t want any whiny comments from people who love Haiku, write Haiku, read Haiku, or though the certifying of some bizarre clerical error at the hospital, have been named Haiku. It was just a joke…mostly.

Local Man to Host Drug Drop Off Event

gooferie

AA01People who have unused, unwanted or expired medications can dispose of them Friday by taking them to “Dan”, who will be collecting them free of charge.

“Dan”, no address listed, is collecting unwanted medication from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. on the southeast corner of 10th and Peach. There is no charge for the collection, which is being done in support of National Prescription Drug Take Back Day.

Medications must be in their original containers and personal information on vials should be concealed. People can also take nonprescription and over-the-counter medications.

Officially, no illegal substances, needles or other medical devices will be accepted, but “Dan” says he will work with you on that.

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Clowns and Penises: A Message to Overbearing Parents

brat kid

What a precious child.

Please stop showing me pictures of your baby.

The first fifty pictures of your little bundle of joy were all pretty much the same. If you’re going to inundate me with this barrage of maternal pride, at least mix it up a little. Dress the kid up like a gladiator or a pirate; give me a reason to at least feign interest.

I know you believe every human on the planet desires to see endless streams of photos of your child. You believe we have an innate need to gush over your child, and shower him or her with flowery praise.

We do not.

What people say: what a beautiful baby you have.

What people are actually thinking: holy crap your baby looks like a lizard: his skin is weird and his face is all smushed. Is his father a sleestack?

sleestack

Daddy?

 

The ugly truth: children grow up to be people and people suck. In fact, I know your kid’s father and he’s a jackass. That poor kid’s wading out of a gene pool that’s shallow, stagnant, and filled with parasites.

And stop acting like everything your child does is precious.

Your child dumped mustard in the fish tank: not precious.

Your child shaved the dog: not precious.

Your child peed on the cat: not precious

Your child got into the permanent markers and covered your living room wall with what appeared to be clowns and penises: honestly, this one’s funny.

And keep that notion in your head that it is advantageous to never discipline your child, because who doesn’t love a good “my child did the cutest thing in juvenile court today” story.

Maybe if Jeffrey Dahmer’s parents had made him eat his vegetables, things would have turned out differently.

Let’s all get together and stop praising our children for things that are clearly not praiseworthy.

Your child’s artwork is dreadful. It’s fine to hang it on your fridge with a due amount of parental pride. Just don’t expect me to gush over it like it’s the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Seriously, from what I can tell, it’s a drawing of a clown and a penis on the back of a misshapen unicorn. (And I’m starting to sense a disturbing trend in your child’s art work involving clowns and penises.)

Do you know what happens when you constantly praise your child for things at which she’s bad? She wastes three years at college majoring in art, when what she actually excels at is smoking pot, wearing berets, growing copious amounts of body hair, and doodling clowns and penises.

Then she comes home with a giant face tattoo, and informs you she’s dropped out of college to focus on her poetry. (Dreadful scribblings that mainly focus on clowns, penises, and when she’s ambitious: clown penises.)

Then when she can’t get anyone to publish any of her poems about clowns and penises, she tries to find a real job and the following happens:

Interviewer: Your application seems fine, and we’d like to hire you, but there’s the issue of your face tattoo.

Her: What do mean? This tattoo is an expression of me and who I am.

Interviewer: I’m not saying it’s not a brilliant tattoo of a clown and a penis riding a unicorn, but here at Chuck E. Cheese, I’m not sure it would fit our image.

Her: My mother says this tattoo is precious. She says everything I’ve ever done is precious. She even refers to me as “her precious.”

Interviewer: It also bothers us that your mother appears to be Gollum.

gollum

Mommy?

 

Let me be clear, I don’t think you should squelch the dreams and aspirations of children. You should squelch the delusions of overbearing parents.

And please please please stop pointing to your children and saying, “there’s our future.” There is enough scary shit in the world already.

fire

The future?

Deliverance: Not the Only River Tale to End Badly

rafting

“Paddle faster you idiots.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be refreshing,” my friend assured me. I had strong doubts as I stood on the shore and watched the river’s water heave and surge past. My trepidation fueled less by the tenacity of the water, more by the fact that what I did in the water could be described less as swimming and more as a labored attempt to avoid drowning. In pit of my stomach, I could feel that this rafting trip was about to turn ugly.

Rivers that are used for rafting are separated into five classifications. Class one rivers are basically flat, smooth waters that can be easily navigated. Class five rivers are rapidly descending, treacherous waters that require considerable experience to navigate.

Class one rivers are for tiny little girls and wimps. Class five rivers are for studly men who like to the laugh in the face of the Grim Reaper. We chose a class three river, we were average men who like the laugh in the face of the Grim Reaper but only when the Grim Reaper is at a distance and busy with somebody else at the time.

The trip was going well, we had successfully navigated our way through several sets of rapids without major incident. It was then that the guide told us to bring our rafts to shore where he informed us that this was the part of the trip where we could walk back upstream and go back through the last set of rapids.

“What,” I asked casually, attempting to mask the alarm in my voice, “do you mean without the raft?”

“That’s right, you’re just going to jump in the water and go,” the guide said with an annoying amount of confidence.

“Are you certain that’s safe?”

“Absolutely, these are very deep rapids.”

“It’s safe because deep water is harder to drown in?”

“Yes…I mean, no. When it comes to rapids, deeper is safer.” I could detect a timbre of irritation creeping into his voice.

“Okay, I understand…I’m curious, what are your thoughts concerning skydiving without the parachute?”

I could tell by the dagger filled stare that was shooting my way, that is was time to stop asking questions. This was the man whom I would depend upon to pull semiconscious body from the water should the need arise.

One by one, like lemmings, we climbed onto the top of a small boulder and leapt into the river.

I made through the first two mini-rapids without a problem. It was the third set of rapids where a sudden surge of water lifted my body for a moment then pulled me under the surface. Murky river water shot up my nose at approximately 2000 mph, ricocheted off the bottom of my brain, then poured into my lungs.

Not wanting to be filled with murky river water, my lungs immediately expelled the water back through my mouth and nose with considerable force. My eyes, feeling left out, began to water profusely. I was now spinning out of control and my arms were flailing around like a crazed marionette.

This was the moment I chose to invent a new game. I call the game “Whack your face against the rock.” I invented this game approximately two seconds after the guide yelled, “Hey, don’t whack your face against the rock.”

“Are you okay?” the guide chortled, unable to mask his amusement. I signaled to him with a thumbs up…well, it was a single digit.

As I slowly spun out of the rapids and crawled to shore, gasping for air and coughing simultaneously (something that I had previously thought to be physically impossible) my friend asked, “Are you going to go again?”

“No,” I replied. “I think that I’m refreshed enough.”

river raft

The IOC is considering whack-your-face-against-the-rock for the 2020 Olympics.

Cinderella’s Sisters Bash Prince For Foot Shaming

Cindereella's sisters

The angry and large footed sisters in question.

A Tiny Kingdom in a Faraway Land–“It’s an outrage,” an agitated Drizella told us as she fumbled with her extra wide orthopedic shoes for bunions. “It’s a clear and undeniable case of foot shaming.”

It seems the trouble started when Prince Charming began scouring the kingdom in search of a singular woman whose foot would fit into a glass slipper left behind at a recent ball.

“Real women have real feet,” Drizella’s sister Anastasia said. “That pompous Prince Charming shows up at our door with this tiny little slipper made of glass and you’re not good enough for him unless your foot fits into this ridiculous little shoe; if you have feet like a normal woman you’re automatically rejected. That’s hardly ‘charming’ behavior.”

“And glass footwear can’t possibly be safe,” Drizella added.

The sisters argue it’s sexist and demeaning to reduce a woman’s worth to her foot size.

“They’re just jealous because the glass slipper fit on the foot of their step-sister, Cinderella,” Prince Charming said.

“She’s nothing but lowly scullery maid,” Drizella shouted, “why should she get the prince just because she has dainty feet.”

“Cinderella does have dainty feet,” the prince conceded. “She also has perfect skin, flaxen hair, and a heart of gold. And unlike her step-sisters, she doesn’t have a blackened soul, a vicious mean streak, a crazily disturbing amount of warts, an infestation of genital chiggers, and breath that could kill a dragon.”

Cinderella

She has perfect skin, flaxen hair, and absolutely no genital chiggers.

“It’s called halitosis and it’s a medical condition,” Drizella said defending herself.

The sisters have hired a barrister and plan to launch a lawsuit against the prince for discriminatory practices.

“I guess they’re forgetting how an oppressive feudal system works,” the prince said as he chuckled to himself, “I’m a prince; I do whatever the hell I want.”

Cinderella couldn’t be reached for comment; she is currently in negotiations to launch her own brand of glass footwear called Cinderella Crossfits.

glass sneakers

For the active scullery maid who also wants to feel like a princess.

The Most Dangerous Animal?

I recently saw the following statement in a meme:

The Most Dangerous Animal in the World…

Is a Smiling Woman Sitting in Silence.

Wrong!

It’s this freaking thing:

scary fish

“Come in the water, it’s nice.”

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