Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

Much Ado About Muffin

August 14, 2018


I had a muffin earlier. I like muffins. As Jerry Seinfeld once said, “A muffin can be very filling.” I unwrapped the muffin and discovered that there was a second paper cup underneath. That happens sometimes, y’know – a double wrapped muffin or cupcake. And you peel back that thin paper or foil veneer and realize slowly yet suddenly that there’s yet more to reveal. It’s exciting! Right? Exciting and yet disheartening. At first, it’s like you’ve uncovered a special prize, something baked just for you. Then you realize that you’ve only gotten halfway to the point of eating the pastry and you have to keep unwrapping to have your delicious, delicious prize. Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the horrid, ridiculous thought: what if this is like one of those Russian nesting dolls and I keep removing wrappers until eventually there’s only a teeny tiny muffin at the center. But that’s silly, of course. However, the dread persists. What if I don’t have the right to eat this muffin? What if – by the virtue of it being doubled wrapped – this muffin has presented itself in such a rare light that, by eating it, I nullify the uniqueness? Surely, this second skin signifies a muffin above and beyond, one that deserves to survive. But, considering the baser nature of our will, our desires, our hunger, this muffin with something extra is nothing more than a tease – a suggestive sweet roll that sheds its layers provocatively one at a time until there is nothing to hide and its flaky, crusty goodness is laid bare. The mind reels. The imagination soars. The determination wavers.

Of course, at the end of the day it’s just a stupid muffin and I ate the hell out of that sucker.



August 10, 2018


Five Hipster Books

To Kale a Mockingbird

From Here to Urban Outfitters

A Beard Grows In Brooklyn

Their Eyes Were Watching Wes Anderson

The Artisanal Grapes of Wrath


Five Euphemisms For Pregnancy

In the family way

Up the duff

Go Go Gadget Zygote!

Cribbin’ the ute

Pulling a Duggar


Five Reasons to Hate Winnie the Pooh

He’s not a real bear

He got his stupid head stuck in a honey jar

He hunted the heffalump to extinction

He smells like wet stuffing

He poohs in the woods


Five More Ways To Leave Your Lover

Leave on a ferry, Gary.

Grab an axe and decapitate, Nate.

Shove her bloody face in, Jason.

Dose her with strychnine, er –uh, Rick … stein.

Get your gun and shart shootin’, Putin.


Five Retroactive Product Placements in Movies

“Well I got her number. How do you like them Snapples?”

“They call me Mister Pibbs!”

“Forget it, Jake, it’s Chinet.”

“As god is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again – thanks to Stouffer’s Lean Cuisine!”

“A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some BUSH’s Baked Beans and a nice Franzia, the wine in a box.”


Sign Language

August 7, 2018

I realize I’m about forty-five years too late in my outrage but I think the guy who is ostensibly the singer of the song Signs (originally by Five Man Electrical Band, later remade by Tesla) is a completely and total dick. Yes, I know the tune was released in 1971 when it was a counter-culture anthem and the main character is supposedly a rebel who stands up to “The Man” in all his forms but the hippie haranguer is, at best, a fraud, a trespasser and a thief. I mean, he applies for a job under false pretenses, he stands on a guy’s property and yells at him and he steals the offerings from a collection plate in church. What a d-bag! I guess I’d be really upset if I didn’t imagine the jerk died horribly when he ignored the “No Skating – Thin Ice” sign one late winter because he felt that Mother Nature is just too cool a chick to not allow him the dynamite pleasure of ice skating in March.


People I Hate #19 (In A Series)

August 3, 2018

Who: The guy at the convenience store who thinks it’s funny to say “A hundred and eighty-five dollars!” when it’s really only one dollar and eighty-five cents.

Why: It’s not funny. Not even remotely. Yet he thinks it’s freakin’ hilarious. Otherwise why would he risk fraud charges by giving me, a complete stranger, false information regarding the purchase price? Plus he’s not just one guy but multiple humor-impaired yokels who work cash registers at a myriad of 7-11 type stores across the land – not because it was a career choice and he thought it best to eschew his astronomy degree for a life in a sub par customer service field dispensing gasoline, alcohol and lottery tickets to the unwashed but because his high school guidance counselor made it quite clear that his future involved either smocks, hairnets and grease or panhandling and he chooses to deal with the utter ennui, desperation and futility with what he erroneously perceives to be a clever joke.

How I justify it: Hate is easier than contempt. (I’m not proud; just honest.)

Tales From My Screwed-Up Childhood #31

July 28, 2018

When I was a really young kid, around 4 or 5, I was witness to a bizarre supernatural happening that I’ve rarely spoken about.

It just so happens that my bedroom was next to the bathroom and sometimes, very late at night, in those early morning hours when the whole house was asleep, I would wake to a strange, unearthly sound and the sight of what can only be described as – a ghost wheel. Yes, a ghost wheel. A tire, unattached to an axle or auto, spinning in place, there in the doorway of that bathroom. Amazingly, I would wake up and see this ghost tire spinning in place, never getting nearer, never moving forward or backward, just hanging there, an apparition suspended in air, rotating on an unseen axis. All the while, a familiar melody would waft eerily through the air: Blood, Sweat and Tears 1969 #2 hit, Spinning Wheel.

I swear I wasn’t asleep, yet I was never scared of the ghost tire. And to my knowledge no one else ever saw this otherworldly white wheel. It was an event that recurred with an odd regularity for several months when I was in kindergarten and yet it ceased as quickly as it began.

As an adult, I have no idea what the hell it all was – a waking dream or hallucination or – something else. Perhaps I never will. But I’d like to think that the truth is out there somewhere. That’s why I now work with the FBI’s X-Files.

FIVE RANDOM FIVE (All Dessert Edition)

July 22, 2018


Five British Desserts

Spotted Dick


Windsor Wimple


Queen’s Buns


Five Ways To Weaponize a Muffin

Set it on fire and fling it over a wall

Bake around spring-loaded steel spikes

Drop it from the thermosphere onto unsuspecting populace

Subject to 500 rem of radiation and leave at a brunch

Mutate it into a flesh-devouring life form


Five Presidential Dessert Quotes

“Ich bin ein Berliner.” – Kennedy

“The only thing to fritter is fritter itself.” – FDR

“Four scones and seven éclairs ago.” – Abraham Lincoln

“Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this waffle.” – Reagan

“I don’t care if it’s my third Baked Alaska – I’m the president and I’ll have as many as I damn well want!” – William Howard Taft


Five Desserts That Could Be Stripper Names



Turkish Delight


Treacle Tart


Five Cookie Bands

Ace of Biscotti

The Doors-Si-Dos

Oreo Speedwagon

Macaroon 5

Panic at Nabisco


Social Climber

July 20, 2018

Cats love chicken but does chicken love cats? KFC certainly put them to interesting use by means of a four-hour Facebook Live with Super Deluxe event involving a Colonel Sanders Cat Climber, a cool clowder and social internet interaction. The entire multi-hour catravaganza is available but this little promo shows you the tongue-in-chicken style the Colonel was going for.

By the way, all the cats in the event were adoptable through Los Angeles’ Heaven on Earth Society of Animals.

The Name Game

July 15, 2018

What is the most annoying thing on earth? My vote is for when you pose the innocent question, “What’s your name?” and someone snaps back, “Puddentame. Ask me again I’ll tell you the same.” Dead annoying when it happens on the playground at recess in second grade. A real good reason for an arse kicking when the new temp tries it at a departmental meeting in front of your boss.

Seriously, that slack-jawed son of a bitch better watch his back or I will make his life a living misery.

Past Imperfect

July 7, 2018

I was going through some storage boxes in the back closet earlier and I found my old retainer and headgear and a couple of pairs of those Coke-bottle-lens glasses I wore back in junior high school (hell, I thought they were novelty specs for a second) and I was suddenly transported back to teenage years so awkward the geeks in chess club who played D&D and ran their rock tumblers nonstop could hold their heads high, secure in the knowledge that at least they weren’t me.

Seriously, Puberty! You’re nothing more than the ultimate proof Mother Nature’s nothing but a sadist.

The Origin of Independence Day

July 4, 2018

The world’s first Fourth of July celebration was held in 1653 in Plymouth, Massachusetts. The Pilgrims, after a particularly hard Winter, had planted their crops for the coming year. Tending to their fields was of utmost importance to the colonists but the Governor of the settlement had decreed that one day should be set aside for a Display of Fealty to the Crown. The date chosen was July 4, 1653. The date is of importance because it fell upon a Thursday and it was heretofore unheard of to take a day of rest that did not fall upon the Sabbath. But July 4 was picked not because of any religious or political import but because the Governor had a mistress and he wanted an excuse to visit her. With the colony celebrating his newfound holiday, he could use this day to sneak off and visit his mistress – an act unthinkable on the Sabbath or any established Holy Day. But his scheme was not to pass as his journey to the prearranged tryst location was fraught with disaster. First, his wagon wheel was warped and his axle split, throwing him and hobbling his horse. Then, he ran afoul of Dracula. Once in the thrall of the dark vampire lord, the Pilgrim Governor was sent to assassinate Cardinal Richelieu of the Spanish Inquisition. Thankfully Prince Valiant and Mothra intervened and stopped the Governor. Then Richelieu sent the cast of Hamilton to Dracula’s stronghold to defeat him. The subsequent victory was celebrated on July 4 and every subsequent year. And, thus, Independence Day was born.

It’s all true – Nancy O’Dell said so on Entertainment Tonight. Or – or maybe I read it on Wikipedia. I’m not sure, really. I drank some bad milk and downed pretty much a whole bottle of ZzzQuil. Don’t judge me! It’s a holiday!