idiotpruf

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

Archive for the tag “idiot”

01 May 2018
42 Comments

Home is Where the Heart is…and a Bit of Predator

Westfield ny

Home is where the heart is…in fact, that’s where I keep most of my shit.  –Pliny the Elder (slightly paraphrased)

This post is about my hometown, and five reasons why it is awesome. (This post is not about modesty.)

Reason #1: the best chicken wings on the planet

Western New York is really good at two things: lake effect snow and chicken wings. Lake effect snow sucks, but chicken wings are great. And the best chicken wings on the planet can be found in Westfield, NY at Larry’s Cantina.

How do I know the chicken wings at Larry’s Cantina are the best on the planet? Because I am a chicken wing expert. (Did I mention this post is not about modesty?)

Note: I can’t vouch for the chicken wings on other planets; I’m sure the chicken wings on that planet Predator is from are badass.

Predator

“Our chicken wings are badass.”

Reason #2: Mad Dog 20/20

mad dog

That’s right, Mad Dog 20/20 is produced in my hometown by Mogen David. Mad Dog 20/20 is classified as a flavored fortified wine. Flavored fortified wines are sometimes referred to as “bum wines” by cynics. Cynics can bite me. (This post is not about tact.)

The Urban Dictionary claims it’s the drink high school kids sneak off to the rock quarry to drink. That’s ridiculous…it was a gorge.

Mad Dog 20/20 has numerous virtues:

  • It’s practically a cure for not having liver disease.
  • It relieves you of that pesky problem of having too many brain cells.
  • It would survive a nuclear holocaust.
  • It comes in several delicious artificial flavors and colors that glow in the dark.
  • If you’ve ever wondered what the sweetest thing in the world is: there’s your answer.
  • Predator loves it.
Predator

“Mad Dog 20/20 is badass.”

Reason #3: Grace Bedell

Bedell

Grace Bedell statue in Westfield, NY.

On October 15, 1860, a few weeks before Lincoln was elected President of the United States, Grace Bedell sent him a letter from Westfield, New York, urging him to grow a beard to improve his appearance. Lincoln responded in a letter on October 19, 1860, making no promises. However, within a month, he grew a full beard.

His inaugural trip from Illinios to Washington D.C. took him through Westfield, NY where he stopped to meet Grace.

Grace later recounted the events:

“He climbed down and sat down with me on the edge of the station platform,” she recalled. “‘Gracie,’ he said, ‘look at my whiskers. I have been growing them for you.’ Then he kissed me. I never saw him again.”

I know what you’re thinking: that’s a sweet story, but it would have been more impressive if she had written something like:

Dear Mr. Lincoln, if you should become president, this slavery thing really has to go.

P.S.  Avoid the theater.

Hey, it’s our thing–leave it alone!

Predator

“Grace Bedell is badass.”

Reason #4: my aunts and uncles

If modern cinema and television have taught us anything through mega-hits such as Harry Potter, Twilight, and The Walking Dead, it’s that witches, vampires, werewolves, and various incarnations of the undead, are quite popular in current culture.

The town of Westfield, NY is polluted with my aunts and uncles.

Note: you get what I’m implying.

Reason #5: simply put: it’s my hometown and that makes it awesome (this post is not about modesty or tact)

This blog is read by thousands of intelligent and influential people (a few of which aren’t imaginary).

And since this is my blog: I make the rules. And according to those rules, that makes my hometown awesome.

Note: I’ve heard this blog is wildly successful on Predator’s planet.

Predator

“idiotprufs is badass.”

Addendum

Westfield, NY is also awesome because there are absolutely no mimes there.

There was one once, but we took care of that.

Westfield, NY

Westfield, NY: notice the dearth of mimes.

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs, lists and tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,
26 Apr 2018
22 Comments

The Great Broccoli Fiasco

broccoliApart from a few facts that may be the products of my faulty memory, this story is completely true.

It came from the kitchen, and it was horrendous. It stung your nostrils, and it turned your stomach.

Note: my roommate’s name in this story was Al, but for the sake of brevity and ease, I will be referring to him simply as: Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man.

Me: what is that horrendous smell?

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: it’s probably me.

Me: it is a sickening and repulsive stench, but it’s a different kind of sickening and repulsive stench.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: I think it’s coming from the refrigerator.

Me: but there’s nothing in the refrigerator apart from a bottle of ketchup, some old pizza, and mysterious yellow stain that seems to move about on its own.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: the stain scares me; it’s shaped like a spider.

Me: (opening the refrigerator door, only to be staggered by the smell) it is coming from the refrigerator and it is foul.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: it must be the anchovies on that left over pizza; they taste like the ass-end of a rhinoceros.

Me: well, I’ll have to defer to your expertise in ass-tasting related matters.

Note: anchovies are lumps of decaying fish, infused with all of the salt in the world–they’re delicious.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: I know how to get rid of it.

He grabbed the pizza box from the fridge and hurled it onto the roof below the kitchen window of our apartment.

Me: brilliant.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: of course it’s brilliant; I’m the one who did it.

Me: your brilliance is only matched by your humility.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: it’s my humility that makes me great.

(Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man is sometimes a walking oxymoron…usually he’s just a plain moron.)

So the problem was solved…or was it?

Not only did the odor not dissipate, it grew in strength.

The next day:

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: why hasn’t the smell gone away?

Me: it wasn’t the anchovies.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-Man: anchovies taste like the ass-end of a rhinoceros.

Me: we have to do something; air fresheners won’t cover it up.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: air fresheners won’t cover up the ass-end of rhinoceros?

Me: probably not, but I was referring specifically to the smell in the kitchen.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: well we’ve checked everywhere.

Me: is there anything in the vegetable crisper?

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: the what?

Me: the drawer where you keep the vegetables.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: the what now?

Me: I’ll show you.

I slid open the vegetable crisper to reveal a bowl of expired broccoli and possibly the most rancid smell that has ever stimulated my olfactory senses.

Me: how can vegetables possibly smell that bad?

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: I didn’t even know that drawer was there.

Me: we have to get rid of them.

Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man: I have an idea.

So Pathetic Pea-Brained Weed-of-a-man grabbed the bowl of tainted broccoli and flushed it down the toilet.

The problem was solved…or was it.

It seems pouring a bowl full of broccoli down a toilet is the equivalent of pouring a bucket full of concrete down a toilet; it was a mess. There was literally a waterfall of human waste pouring down the kitchen wall of the downstairs neighbor.

She was unhappy…loudly.

A few days later we had a typical western New York snowstorm which dropped about four feet of snow on us.

The landlord came to shovel the snow from the roof outside our kitchen window. He struggled with something that was solidified to the roof. It turned out to a pizza with anchovies.

He was unhappy…loudly.

Note: if you were unaware: anchovies smell like the ass-end of a rhinoceros.

rhino butt

Posted in funny, Humor, idiotprufs and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
25 Apr 2018
4 Comments

Donner Party Disappointment

donner party

They seem like a fun bunch.

Absolutely the worst party I’ve been to in my life.

It was in a horrible location: a difficult to navigate snow-covered mountain pass more suited for ox-drawn wagons than a proper vehicle. Seriously, rent a hall.

The only music they had was some old guy with a fiddle who couldn’t play it properly because he’d lost several fingers to frostbite.

Everyone was just dour. There was a lot of wailing and weeping–it was a real mood killer.

They ran out of hor d’oeuvres almost immediately; the food was the biggest disappointment.

It was a terribly planned party–I left early.

Don’t get me wrong, I prefer it to a family get-together at my aunt’s house, but I’d rather be stripped naked, chained to the back of a jeep, and dragged through a field of broken glass, than go to a family get-together at my aunt’s house.

I just hope things picked up after I left.

Addendum:

The Donner Party is sometimes referred to by historians as the Donner-Reed Party.

But I’m certain Donner-Reed would throw a fantastic party.

donna reed

“I throw fantastic parties.”

Posted in funny, health, History, Humor and tagged , , , , , , , ,
22 Apr 2018
2 Comments

School District Adds Even More Bats

Millcreek bat

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.

big black bat

“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.

dracula

“You sissy Twilight vampires are really hurting our image.”

Posted in erie, funny, Humor, idiotprufs and tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,
20 Apr 2018
23 Comments

Bees and Calligraphy

bee calligraphy nerd

In my spare time I like to improve my yodeling.

First a few personal facts regarding the differences between bees and calligraphy:

  1. I have never been stung in the face by calligraphy.
  2. I have never gotten a D on an art project written in bee.

Good things about bees:

  1. If you don’t happen to have any Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants, Africanized killer bees will work in a pinch.
  2. It is hysterical when a bee stings a mime.
  3. Pollination. Bees pollinate a vast array of plants, helping to propagate many types of fruits and flowers. (Incidentally, Fruits and Flowers is the name of the clown act.)
  4. They make honey, that sweet nectar byproduct without which Pooh bear would have never gotten his head caught in a honey pot, in that adorable image by A. A. Milne.  If it weren’t for that image, I’d have nothing tattooed on my left butt cheek.

Good things about calligraphy:

  1. Because of calligraphy, nib manufacturing is still a thriving business in Bangladeshi sweatshops.
  2. Without calligraphy wedding invitations would have to be written in silly fonts.
  3. Anything written in calligraphy looks super classy; like William Shakespeare threw up on a piece of paper. (It’s how the entire first act of Much Ado About Nothing was written.)
sonnet shakespeare

Super classy. Created by William Shakespeare after a night of pounding tequila shots.

Note: This blog has often been referred to as the Shakespeare of humor blogs–sometimes by poet laureates, occasionally by scholars, but mostly by people when I lie about things other people have said. I’ve also won the Pulitzer Prize…twice.

Bad things about bees:

They sting you in the face.

You might be a small child, blissfully playing in your grandmother’s backyard. Behaving in a manner so innocent, its very nature demands the use of the word angelic.

You might have that childhood bliss shattered in a moment when a bee stings you in the face.

You might retreat into your grandmother’s house in a state of distress because a bee has just stung you in the face.

Instead of receiving the consoling, you need, your aunt–who is evil–snidely tells you, “bees only sting you if you bother them.”

Years later you have your revenge at a family picnic when your aunt is stung by a bee. You confidently inform her, “bees only sting fat bitchy women.” Despite the accuracy of your statement, she is not amused.

Bad things about calligraphy:

They make you learn it in Art class.

When I was in school we didn’t get to use the calligraphy pens with the replaceable ink cartridges; we had to use the old-style calligraphy pens that you had to dip in ink wells. This was problematic.

I tended to get ink blots on my assignment, which hurt the final grade. I also got ink on my desk, on my hands, on my face, on my clothes, and weirdly on my left butt cheek. (It was a precursor to the Winnie the Pooh tattoo.)

It was also problematic for the girl at the desk in front of me.

It wasn’t that she had difficulty containing her ink use; it was that my difficulty in containing my ink use, on one occasion, spread to her flaxen blonde hair.

Which then became problematic for me, in a loud and somewhat abusive tone.

I threw around more ink than a pissed-off octopus.

octopus ink

Man, this calligraphy is difficult.

Posted in funny, Humor and tagged , , , , , , ,
17 Apr 2018
2 Comments

Caretaker Rick: Rat-Bastard

cemetery

Rick is a sniveling greedy squinty-eyed rat bastard. The only remotely positive thing you can say about his existence is that it allows a person to employ the phrase, sniveling greedy squinty-eyed rat-bastard, which is fun to say, but difficult to work into casual conversation.

Rick is the type of person who enjoys lounging in his backyard as he hurls insults at squirrels. He also hurls rocks, but his aim is dreadful. Rick thinks squirrels are smug.

Rick is the type of person who rummages through the Goodwill box searching for a gift for his girlfriend’s birthday, and then replaces what he’s taken with empty beer cans, spent lottery tickets, and cigarette butts he’s scrounged from the floor of his jeep.

Rick is a thieving, untidy, chain-smoking, alcoholic, degenerate gambler.

Rick sucks.

Rick is the caretaker of The Shady Oak Pine Hill Cemetery For Dead People And For People Who Aren’t Quite Dead But Who Are Doing Poorly…Provided They Have The Means To Afford One of Our Premium Plots.

It was called Pine Hill Cemetery before Rick took over, but he felt the name needed some punching up.

Caretaker of a cemetery is a fortuitous job for Rick; the most amenable way to deal with Rick is as a dead person or at the very least, terminally ill. (Even those who ardently cling to life, gladly embrace death after one or two interactions with Rick.)

The thing about Rick is that he is almost completely stupid. If there is something stupid to be done: Rick does it. If there is something stupid to be said: Rick says it.

He is a walking human catastrophe from which you just can’t look away.

There are so many great stories about Rick to be told.

More to come.

insulting squirrel

“Screw you, Rick.”

Posted in erie, funny, Humor and tagged , , , , , , , ,
11 Apr 2018
4 Comments

Mooning Garden Gnome Goes Missing

missing sign

The horror.

It seems some deplorable person has absconded with Willard #6, the neighbor’s mooning garden gnome.

A quick recap of the previous Willards:

The first Willard met an untimely demise at the hands of some maniac with a shovel.
Willard #2 was also smashed with a shovel.
Willard #3 was backed over with a car and smashed with a shovel.
Willard #4 was unexpectedly hit with a brick, peed on, and smashed with a shovel.
Willard #5 was pulverized with a sledgehammer and set on fire. (Shovel broke while smashing something.)

Your wondering how I have such intimate knowledge of the tragedies that have befallen the Willards if I had nothing to with it–you ask to many questions.

I don’t even own a sledgehammer. (Apart from that delightful Peter Gabriel song from the 80’s.)

After comfortably adorning the neighbor’s lawn for consecutive summers without incident, it seemed Willard #6 was safe from any acts of malfeasance. But sometimes a neighbor will get a bit too cocky and then unfortunate things happen. Not in this case–but sometimes.

There are some who credit the motion activated lighting and camera the neighbor had installed in his yard for the lack of incidents over the previous two summers. Utter nonsense, whoever disabled the camera before they took Willard #6 could have done so two years ago.

Any number of things could have happened to Willard #6.

He may be decorating the lawn of a thief. He may now be in the possession of some rapscallion children. Maybe he’s being held for future ransom. Perhaps he’s sprung to life and just wandered off.

It’s entirely possible he’s resting at the bottom of Lake Erie because his loudmouthed owner can’t keep his opinions to himself…but I’m just guessing.

idiotprufs mooning gnome

If you see this mooning garden gnome somewhere, just keep it to yourself.

Posted in erie, funny, Humor and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
11 Apr 2018
10 Comments

Flashback: Top Ten Other Things the Mayans Got Wrong

My apologies to David Letterman.

My apologies to David Letterman.

I stumbled upon this post, one of the very first of this blog, from many years ago. Do you remember when the world was supposed to end?

In my previous post, I detailed my displeasure with the fact that the world didn’t come a cataclysmic end on December 21st. Not only did nothing cool happen, but even worse, I was forced to finish my Christmas shopping.

I’ve discovered after doing some exhaustive research (Google) there were a myriad of things the Mayans got wrong.

Top Ten Other Things The Mayans Got Wrong

10)  Caddyshack 2 will be just as funny as Caddyshack.

 9) A man named Isaac Newton will be resting under an apple tree when an apple will fall on his head. He will become so irate that he invents a machine that will be used to systematically destroy all apple trees, ridding the land of the scourge of falling apples.

 8) Queen Anne is so taken with Newton’s apple tree destroying prowess, she has him knighted. Although a great honor, he is hampered by the fact that he can now only move two spaces forward and one space over on a chess board.

 7) The common folk of 18th century England become so enraged that they can no longer obtain apples, they form a mob and throw Sir Isaac Newton over a cliff. On the way down he has a fleeting thought about something called gravity. Alas, it perishes with him.

 6) Without the foundation of Newtonian physics to expand upon, Albert Einstein never leaves his job as a patent clerk. He does however patent the Sham-wow and he becomes filthy rich.

 5) In the early 20th century a majestic ship called the Titanic is built, it traverses the seas for centuries. However, the movie Titanic, about a ship where nothing ever goes wrong, completely flops.

    Note: The Mayans also go on and on about Siskel but say nothing at all about Ebert. Two thumbs down Mayans.

 4) A man named J.R.R. Tolkien will write a few simple stories about some hobbits; nothing much will come of them.

 3) A mighty force called the Cleveland Browns will arise. They will win many championships called Super Bowls. At about the same time, there will be a record cold snap in Hell.

 2) The shoreline in a place called New Jersey, will become the epicenter for culture and wisdom in the western world. This will happen in the early 21st century and be a clear sign that the end is near.

 1) Those Spaniards seem like nice fellows; nothing bad could ever come of our relationship with them.

colt mccoy

Mighty warriors of the 21st century.

Posted in funny, health, History, Humor, idiotprufs, inspirational, lists, top ten list and tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
10 Apr 2018
5 Comments

!#@$%# Raccoons

raccoon

“Excellent!”

The following happened while I was employed as a quality control inspector at a steel coating plant outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

It was about 6:15 AM as I crossed the plant floor toward the offices. The lights weren’t turned on yet, and though the sun was rising outside, the interior of the building was still a dark tangle of shadows.

In the distance I could see a short stumpy figure climbing the ladder to where the cranes and catwalks are.

I wondered why Jim, the crane operator, would be climbing into the crane so early, and thought it peculiar that he was doing it in the dark. As I looked more closely, I realized that it wasn’t Jim at all; it was the biggest raccoon I had ever seen. (Yes, I mistook a huge raccoon for Jim, if you had ever met Jim, you would understand.) The raccoon then disappeared into the darkness of the rafters and catwalks.

“I’ve seen that raccoon,” Ken, one of the private inspectors, told me. “It comes up from the Ohio River at daybreak and just disappears into the building somewhere.”

Suddenly Rick the foreman, who was sitting at his desk, jumped up, twirled around, and yelled at us, “they ain’t clean.”

“What?” Ken said slightly startled.

“People think that raccoons are clean, but they ain’t clean. People think that raccoons are clean because they wash their food. They wash their food because they ain’t got no saliva; they don’t wash their food because they’re clean.” He stood glaring at us in silence for a moment before punctuating his tirade: “They ain’t clean!”

“Well..” was all that Ken got out.

“And they ain’t smart. People think they’re smart because they’ve got little people hands, but they ain’t smart. They ain’t clean and they ain’t smart.” He then stormed from the office as if he had been horribly offended.

Ken and I stood in a state of bewildered silence. Although neither of us said anything, we knew what each other was thinking: what the hell?

After a few moments, Ken broke the silence,”Wow, Rick really !#@$%# hates raccoons.”

We speculated about what frightful trauma must have occurred to instill such a level of hatred for a furry animal. Maybe as a small child he was attacked by a racoon. Maybe as a teen, a pack of racoon toughs bullied and taunted him. Maybe they knocked the books from his hands as he awkwardly made his way through the school hallway. (Rick had the physical presence of Ichabod Crane, without the grace.)

This is what I think happened: it was prom night, the night Rick had dreamed of since he was a little boy. He had his tuxedo. He had the corsage that he would tenderly pin to her gown. It was his night to shine.

She was a little late, but that’s fashionable right? He paced impatiently as the minutes stretched into hours. Periodically he’d stop to check his watch as he would mumble under his breath, “she’ll be here any minute now.”

“Don’t ask a raccoon to the prom,” his friends had advised. “They’d rather scavenge through garbage cans than slow dance to Bryan Adams songs.”

But Rick was infatuated.

The night came and went without a word from her. Rick’s never gotten past the heartbreak and devastation. Now he has an irrational hatred of all raccoons.

The source of Rick’s heartbreak.

Posted in funny, Humor, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
07 Apr 2018

Sister City Disappointment

Opera House

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.”

eastern brown snake

Posted in erie, funny, health, Humor and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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