Advertisements

idiotprufs

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

Archive for the tag “regrets”

Is It True?

 

Adorable children's favorite, and possible tattoo subject.

Loveable children’s favorite, and possible body art subject.

In a previous post, Bees and Calligraphy, I wrote the following about bees:

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 to my left butt cheek.

This revelation elicited a myriad of responses:

  • That’s weird.
  • That’s funny.
  • That’s unusual.
  • That’s weird in a funny and unusual way.
  • That’s adorable.
  • Wait, it’s on your butt? That’s not adorable, that’s horrifying. You’ve defiled a precious childhood memory. If I ever meet you in person, I will whomp you on the head with an ax handle.
  • May I see it?
  • A.A. Milne is turning over in his grave.
  • That’s amazing. I have the same tattoo on my left breast.
  • Stop following me you creep, or I’m going to blast you in the face with pepper spray.
  • I’m going to consume alcohol until every brain cell I have containing that mental image is destroyed.
  • Ick.

Note: Upon reflection, the thing about the pepper spray is probably an entirely unrelated matter.

But I have a confession to make: it’s all a horrible lie.

I don’t have a tattoo of Pooh Bear or any other beloved cartoon character on my left butt cheek. In fact, I haven’t any tattoo of any kind anywhere on my body.

I know what you’re thinking now: has everything I’ve read on this blog been nothing but falsehoods and mindless tripe. Allow me to clear the air regarding a few items that have appeared in this blog.

  • Did a crack-head, wielding a razor blade, really accuse me of being a leprechaun: yes.
  • Did I work in a place where the foreman had a pathological hatred of raccoons because they have “little people hands”: yes.
  • Did I meet Bigfoot in a local pub and enrage him when I accused him of having chiggers: I wish.
  • Did I ridicule a Bigfoot hunter when he claimed the best way to escape a female Bigfoot was to run downhill, because female Bigfoot can’t run downhill due to their large floppy breasts: awesomely, yes.
  • Did I subsequently interview Lady Bigfoot regarding the allegation that she has large floppy breasts: don’t be ridiculous…her breasts were immaculate.
  • Did I receive an angry letter from, Eduardo, a Bolivian pudding maker, after I may have implied an association between Bolivian pudding and Egyptian dung beetles: no. I did, however, receive a scathing letter from an Egyptian dung beetle.
  • Was I frisked and manhandled by the police in Amarillo, Texas: they’re a handsy group.
  • Did I once pull on to the tram line in Buffalo, New York, after mistakenly believing it to be a weird little street and get the vehicle wedged between the curbs: yes.
  • Did I once inadvertently wash my hair with flea and tick shampoo: shut up!
  • Did I dig a moat around my home to keep out Gerald the neighbor kid: I’m still waiting on the permits.
  • Did I put piranha in the moat: weren’t you paying attention, there’s no moat…yet.
  • Was I denied the sale of eggs after jokingly telling the cashier that I was going to throw them at a police car: people just don’t get my sense of humor.
  • Did I inadvertently set another person’s vacuĆ¼m cleaner and carpet on fire: let’s just say mistakes were made.
  • Do I really have an irrational hatred of mimes: it’s not irrational.
  • Did I really smash a mooning garden gnome with a shovel because its butt was directed at my kitchen window: not that you or anyone else can prove.
  • Was I once taken captive by a crazy woman–Misery style– because I had stopped writing this blog to focus my Jersey Shore fan fiction: I’m going to yes because I know you want it to be true.
  • Do I write Jersey Shore fan fiction: If only I had that type of ability.

Now that this burden has been lifted from my conscience, the healing can begin.

vacuum on fire

Yes. This really happened.

 

Advertisements

Well–Now You’ve Blown It

sad balloonOne of your key resolutions this New Year was to stop wasting your time reading dreadful blogs devoid of intellectual value of any kind.

The type of blog written by a pasty-faced geek with zero social grace.

The type of blog that burrows into your brain, takes root, and festers until it has transformed you into a drooling half-wit.

Well–you’ve blown it now haven’t you?

You’d might as well crack open that bottle of Jack Daniels, rip open that pack of Camels, and start eating cookie dough straight from the tube, because you’ve just taken the first step into a spiraling abyss.

Better luck next year.

mr creasote

This is what this blog does.

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: