idiotpruf

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

Archive for the tag “satire”

I’ve Been so Busy…and Invertebrate

She turned me into a banana slug...I got better.

She turned me into a banana slug…I got better.

You may have noticed my recent absence from the blogging world.

You probably didn’t notice it right away. It just suddenly dawned on you one day that a persistent irritant had disappeared. Like when you suddenly realized the itching had stopped because that annoying rash on your testicles had finally gone away.

But you’re not rid of me yet. You can get all the restraining orders and pepper-spray you want, but I’m not going anywhere.

Take that, Beth.

Note: the previous line was for comedic effect only. I am not following or harassing a woman named Beth in any manner that could be construed as a violation of any court order.

You see, I’m like herpes: you will never truly be rid of me. I’ll always be there lurking, just waiting to show up and ruin your weekend. (It’s been a rough few months.)

Anyway, there have been several reasons for my dearth of activity:

Miming

I’ve taken up the silent art in an elaborate scheme to infiltrate the world of mime and sabotage it from the inside.

I planned to work tirelessly to become the world’s most prolific and prominent mime.

Upon reaching the pinnacle of miming, I would embark on a downward spiral of debauchery and scandal that would permanently stain the miming world.

Unfortunately I was unable to bring my plan to fruition; it seems miming is way harder than it looks. Also, I’ve discovered I’m allergic to white face-paint, berets, and being punched in the groin by small children. (They have little fists of steel.)

I do however plan to go forward with the downward spiral of debauchery and scandal.

Juggling Chainsaws

My attempt at learning to juggle chainsaws was going along swimmingly…until suddenly it wasn’t.

Learning To Write With My Left Hand

Upon falling victim to an unforeseeable and unpreventable accident, I have lost all use of my right hand.

Well…that’s not strictly true; it makes a interesting paperweight.

Would it be so difficult to print the words, NOT TO BE USED FOR JUGGLING OR ANYTHING COOL, somewhere on a chainsaw?

Note: perhaps I should have learned how to mime chainsaw juggling.

chainsaw hand

Where’s the warning, Husqvarna?

I Spent Several Weeks As A Banana Slug

If you’ve read this blog in the past, you will know that my aunts are a great big gaggle of witches.

You will also know that I have on occasion angered them. Maybe it was something I said. Maybe it was something I did. Perhaps it was something I wrote in this blog about their chunky thighs, potato-faced children, or their general tendency to be evil hags.

But usually it’s my mere existence that sets them off.

Anyway, they turned me into a banana slug.

It’s ridiculously hard to use a keyboard when you’re a banana slug. You get brilliant ideas, but you just can’t execute them.

On the upside, banana slugs have voracious sex lives. There is nothing in this world sexier than a banana slug…to another banana slug.

Take that, Beth. You’re no banana slug.

banana slug

Sexy!

I’ve Had No Good Ideas

I’m just kidding; I’ve never had any good ideas.

I promise I will post again soon, and it will be my usual level of crap.

hand

It’s also useful for scaring small children after they’ve punched you in the groin.

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 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!

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 neighbors’ children, this post is about tips for Halloween.

Halloween Tip #1

When you’re carving your jack-o-lantern, you should try your best not to cut off your thumb. If cutting off your thumb can’t be helped, (thank you Jack Daniels) then use it. Your jack-o-lantern covered with actual 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 you 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.

Erie Redevelopment Authority to use House Facades to Fight Blight

Another post from Gooferie.

Staff Reporter's avatargooferie

shutterstock_50363353 (1) The Erie Redevelopment Authority (ERA), facing a shortage of state and federal funds, has announced a new plan to fight urban blight in the city.

The ERA will begin a pilot program of installing facades in front of decrepit houses to mask the homes’ true appearances.

“There are so many vacant houses, and we were getting behind on demolition,” according to ERA spokesperson Maureen Tucker. “So, we are rolling out this façade program – starting on the lower west side.”

The plan calls for facades to be placed directly in front of deteriorating houses, so that people walking or driving by will not notice the true state of the house.

“Were going for what real estate agents call ‘curb appeal’” said Tucker.

Phase two of the plan will begin in the spring, when the ERA will be adding cardboard cutouts of friendly neighbors in the windows of the facades.

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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 fistful 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 a series of tragic events. The leaf being blown from the tree represents a life spiraling into an alcohol-fueled abyss of despair. The leaf being trampled underfoot represents the crushing weight of an uncaring world and the inevitable grip of death.

A morbid bunch–poets.

Emotional Response

Poems are written to evoke an emotional response from their 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

Staff Reporter's avatargooferie

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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Beer Barrel Rolled out at Zabawa, Striking Patron — gooferie

A visitor to the annual Polish festival Zabawa was slightly injured today, as a beer barrel got loose and rolled over him. According to Zabawa spokesman Zbigniew Piędziesięciogroszówka, the incident occurred when the beer barrel was rolled out prematurely. “Unfortunately, Zygmunt Zulowski, the barrel keeper, released the barrel before the gang had all gotten here.” […]

via Beer Barrel Rolled out at Zabawa, Striking Patron — gooferie

Local Man to Embark on Grueling 3-Day Trip to Popeye’s Drive-Thru — gooferie

With his vacation time approved, Erie resident Turner Donaldson has finished preparations for his three-day journey through the West 12th Street Popeye’s drive-thru. “I drive by every day and see how busy it is,” said Donaldson. “I figured I’d plan my vacation around getting some of that chicken. I’m actually taking four days’ worth of […]

via Local Man to Embark on Grueling 3-Day Trip to Popeye’s Drive-Thru — gooferie

Smoking: What are You Waiting For?

Recently I jokingly asked someone if they could recommend a brand of cigarettes, because I needed a hobby, and I planned to take up smoking. This was met with a glassy-eyed stare and an earnest lecture against the evils of smoking.

I felt it was time to revisit an old post extolling the many reasons people should start smoking.

Note: so many of my jokes are met with glassy-eyed stares, I could use them to hypnotize people.    

smoking face

See how happy you could be.
(image source: wpclipart.com)

The plight of tobacco executives in our country.

With the combination of class action lawsuits and the implementation of restrictive legislation, the poor tobacco executives in our country have taken a terrible beating over the past several years. It has resulted in a precipitous tumble in their social standing; they have gone from being filthy stinking rich, to being only extremely well off. If we don’t take immediate action, where will it end?

The fate of our tobacco executives if we don't take immediate action.image source: andertoons.com

The fate of our tobacco executives if we don’t take immediate action.
(image source: andertoons.com)

The word emphysema is really fun to say.

It’s a word that just rolls off your tongue.  Em-phy-se-ma: one syllable just flows into the next. Try saying it once. Try saying it several times in a row. Try saying it quickly. Try saying it quickly several times in a row (unless you have emphysema: you might pass out).

The great thing about emphysema is that once you have it, it never goes away. And emphysema will affect nearly every aspect of your life; so you will have no trouble working it into daily conversation:

  • The doctor diagnosed me with emphysema.
  • I’m taking this medicine for my emphysema.
  • I’d love to play with my grandchildren more, but I can’t because of my emphysema.
  • I climbed two flights of stairs and collapsed in a sweaty quivering mass due to my emphysema.
  • I won at scrabble when I played the word emphysema. Thank goodness I can still play board games.

Not only will you have fun with the word emphysema, but so will your friends and family, long after you’re gone:

  • What a nice funeral. I guess the doctor said he would have survived the pneumonia if hadn’t been for the emphysema.
  • He certainly died young, but his quality of life wasn’t very good with the emphysema.
  • Remember that time he coughed up a piece of lung and we all laughed for hours; crazy thing that emphysema.
In a twist of irony, you win a scrabble tournament playing the words healthy alveola.image source: snapdesign.com

In a twist of irony, you won a scrabble tournament playing the words, healthy alveoli.
(image source: snapdesign.com)

You need to know what they’re talking about.

You’ve seen them huddled together, enjoying their cigarettes, with their furtive glances and secretive whispers.

They’re outside of the bar, the restaurant, the bank. They’re outside any and every place of business. They assemble in the wind, the rain, and the snow. They assemble regardless of scorching heat or an F5 tornado. Nothing deters them.

What can they be talking about? It must be of incredible importance. They must be solving the puzzles of the universe.

You’ve tried approaching them, but without a cigarette in your hand, they just regard you with disdain and disgust.

It’s been eating at you; you need to know what they’re talking about.

Note: It’s a little known fact that Albert Einstein developed both special and general relativity, while huddled with a bunch of coworkers outside of a patent office, in a brutal German snowstorm.

Get lost, we're doing something important. We're developing a cure for cancer or emphysema. Hey, emphysema, that's fun to say.image source: sodahead.com

“Get lost, we’re discussing important things. We’re discussing a possible cure for cancer or emphysema. Hey, emphysema, that’s fun to say.”
(image source: sodahead.com)

To stick it to that know-it-all the Surgeon General

You’re a rebel and you don’t appreciate anybody telling you how to live your life. You certainly don’t need some preachy Surgeon General constantly yapping at you about lung cancer, heart disease, or 32 known carcinogens.

There are tons of dangerous activities out there that the Surgeon General has said absolutely nothing about:

  • Poking yourself in the eye with a stick.
  • Dropping a brick on your toes.
  • Insulting the wife of a tattoo laden biker dude.
  • Juggling knives.
  • Attempting to re-attach your fingers with a sewing needle and some thread following some ill-advised knife juggling.
  • Hitting yourself repeatedly in the face with a hammer.

Why don’t hammers come with an explicate warning from the Surgeon General; you don’t have to hit yourself in the face more than five or six times with a hammer, to do some real damage.

If we’re going to make any real changes, it’s up to all of you out there to light up and start puffing away.

I’d start smoking today if my jaw wasn’t wired shut.

I'm launching a law suit; those irresponsible executives at Black & Decker, need to learn.image source: wpclipart.com

I’m launching a lawsuit; those irresponsible executives at Black & Decker, need to learn.
(image source: wpclipart.com)

A Wasp Nest and a Bad Idea


wasp nest in tree

“How do you see this ending?” You ask your Uncle Finster.

“I don’t know what you mean?” Your Uncle Finster replies with a touch of petulance intertwined with genuine ignorance as he wildly swings a garden rake at the wasp nest directly above his head. He loses his balance and nearly tumbles from his perch, shakily atop the seat of a riding mower. He steadies himself before taking another wild swipe at the wasp nest.

You pause a moment to reformulate your words. “How do you imagine your state of being in, let’s say, ten minutes from now; do you think you’ll be well or not well?”

“I will be very well once I get rid of this wasp nest,” he says as he takes another swipe, missing the bottom of the nest by an inch. “Wasp nests are very dangerous.”

“They are very dangerous,” you acquiesce, “that’s why I’m standing at a distance and not directly under the wasp nest.”

“You have to break a few eggs to make an omelette.”

“But when you break an egg, wasps don’t fly out and sting in the face a thousand times.”

“Omelettes are delicious,” Uncle Finster admonishes you.

“Omelettes are delicious,” you agree. “A face full of wasp venom: slightly less so.”

Uncle Finster takes another wild swipe at the wasp nest, again barely missing it, this time losing his balance and nearly tumbling to the ground. “Are you here to help me or just to mock?”

“I’m definitely here to mock,” you clarify, “and I suspect to eventually call 911.”

Uncle Finster stops what he’s doing to look at you. “You always think the worst is going to happen.”

“This just reminds me of the time you had that hornet nest in your shed and you attempted to remove it with gasoline and a road flare.”

“I got rid of that hornet nest, didn’t I?”

“You got rid of the shed too.”

“I built a new shed.”

“And we all look forward to you burning that one down.”

Undeterred, Uncle Finster takes another swipe at the nest, again barely missing, and again nearly tumbling to the ground, regaining his balance just in time to swat a wasp from his face.

“That mower seat isn’t the sturdiest thing to stand on,” you warn Uncle Finster.

“This is the sturdiest mower on the market; that’s why I bought it.”

“I thought you bought it because your last mower burned up in the shed.”

Uncle Finster ignores your previous comment. “Maybe if I jump in the air while I swing the rake.”

“Maybe I should just get your ladder,” you offer.

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It burned up in the shed too,” Uncle Finster tells you as he crouches down in preparation to jump.

“Of course it did,” you reply.

“Anyway,” he continues, “I have to get rid of this thing before my big kick-off-to-the-Summer Memorial Day picnic. I wouldn’t want anything to ruin it–my kick-off-to-the-Summer Memorial Day picnics always go so well.”

“What about last year?” you question.

“What about last year?” he demands.

“Uncle Philbert had a heart attack and fell face first into Aunt Peggy’s coleslaw.”

Uncle Finster halted his assault on the wasp nest for a moment to stop and reflect. “Aunt Peggy was really mad that no one would eat her coleslaw after that, but let’s be honest: nobody was going to eat that coleslaw,” he pauses for a moment to reflect with disgust, “she puts prunes in it.”

“Actually, Uncle Philbert’s heart attack was the main thrust of my point.”

Uncle Finster straightens and addresses you with all seriousness, “He survived didn’t he?”

“What about the year cousin Erina got the lawn dart stuck in her head?”

“She’s had worse things stuck in her head and it’s not like she’s going to get more stupid,” he says as he leaps in the air, unleashes a mighty swing at the wasp nest and catches the bottom of it. Uncle Finster crashes to the ground, followed by the rake which takes a strategic path straight to his forehead followed by the wasp nest and all its inhabitants.

It was glorious.

Uncle Finster did destroy the wasp nest. The admitting nurse at the emergency room laughed hysterically at pictures you got on your phone. And the wasps rebuilt their nest in Uncle Finster’s new shed.

So, all’s well that ends well…very well.

emergency

“It says here on your chart that you’re a dumbass.”

 

 

 

 

 

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