Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

Lolla-Pop-Looza

June 17, 2019

Ah, what a Father’s Day!

Up at 6am, waking to the smell of Moira’s French Toast fritters along with her homemade asiago and chive scones. A rousing bout of Don’t Break The Ice and Cootie with Jake and Maxine, still in their pajamas. A nice long soak in the bubble bath, dressing in a hand-tailored linen suit topped off with a hula girl tie and then off to the Renaissance Faire for geek revelry and a vibe so positive it could keep me from getting health insurance due to a pre-existing condition. Afterwards, super soakers in the garden, a picnic lunch of taters, slaw and beans, and a quick dip in the neighbors’ backyard-deck hot tub (they’ll never know). Then, it was presents a-plenty and gifts galore from my nearest and dearest: a Potty Putter, The Apple Dumpling Gang Rides Again on Blu-ray, a gift certificate to the Piercing Pagoda, a signed copy of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight, an onion blossomer and the patented Norwegian fashion must – Socks-N-A-Basket. Such are the spoils of daddyhood. But the best was yet to come as the kids were carted off to mom and dad’s, giving Moira and I the chance to renew our vows in a very private ceremony involving crystals, body glitter, a Whee-Lo and some scrumptious dark chocolate fondue.

Y’know, it almost tops that Father’s Day in ‘99 when I was kidnapped at gunpoint, bound and gagged, and treated to the Ice Capades with the in-laws and Dan Cortese.

Hey.  I said “almost.”

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Better Off Dad

June 15, 2019

Well, Father’s Day is coming up soon.

Father’s Day. The time set aside to say “Thanks, Pop!” to the guy who helped conceive you, be it one-night stand, anonymous donor or David Crosby.

Basically, a nice day to tell dad what you really think of him, to cut the big guy down to size and scream in a purple-faced rage, “I’m sick of you and your rules!” Of course, he’ll no doubt say, “You think you can take your old man?” “Yeah!” you’ll shoot back in a false bravado borne of years of intense browbeating. “I brought you into this world, you snot-nosed punk! I can take you out!” he’ll sneer. It’s a bit predictable, but he means it. After retirement, he’s only gotten more and more bitter. Sure, he claims he’s down in the basement all day working on his model trains but you smell the alcohol on his breath when he comes up for dinner. You can hear your mother’s pitiful sobs as she cries herself to sleep every night after hours of arguing, him storming out the door for a walk around the block and her screaming at him about their sham of a marriage and how he hasn’t touched her like a woman in over twenty years. You’ve read the mad ramblings in the local op-ed pages written by a so-called “concerned citizen” whose name is so obviously an anagram of his. He’s old, he’s tired, he’s pissed off at the world. He’s got nothing left to loose. Hell, he keeps that old Smith & Wesson in the hall closet. He probably wouldn’t even think twice about using it on you, his own flesh and blood. But you could just as easily give him a subtle push down the stairs. With the lights out and his bad knees, he’d hit the basement floor with enough force to snap that bony little neck of his like soggy crayon. The police wouldn’t suspect. Mom would be relieved, her misery over. She could use the insurance money to fly out to Omaha and see Aunt Rita. And you could pay off your student loans finally. Yeah, like you’re still not so freaking furious about that anyhow. You just know he saved up plenty of money over the years and could have easily sent you to the best Ivy League school, but no, no, he had to teach you some kind of “lesson” and make you work like a dog just to get your Master’s. Now, you’re in debt up to you’re eyeballs and he sits their on his fat ass watching his Weather Channel and yelling at the TV. Damn him! Damn him all to hell!!!

Um…

Or maybe you’ll just get him a tie. Or a Hickory Farms gift certificate. Yeah,yeah, that’ll do it.

Party Girl

June 10, 2019

My sister had a slumber party for her 14th birthday and I, being the pain-in-the-ass little brother I was, tried to spy on them by hiding in her closet. Unfortunately, by the time the girls finished lip-synching to side A of the Go Gos Beauty and the Beat, I realized I had to pee and tried to sneak out. Of course, my sister’s friends caught me and they put make-up on me and dressed me in a bra and panties and forced me dance around like a stripper. It was humiliating.

Yet, in retrospect, kinda hot.

The Missing Post

June 7, 2019

I was creating a post the other morning. Early in the morning or very late at night, depending on how you measure your circadian rhythms. I had an idea for some bit that I thought would amuse. But, you see, I was very tired. VERY tired. And I fell asleep while typing in the post. When I woke up, all that I had entered was the title: Fishy. And I had no idea what the post was. Couldn’t even recall the topic. “Fishy?” I don’t fish, so it had to be some ironic twist on something having to do with fish or seafood or something. I wracked my brain to no avail. Nothing. The post was gone. I moved the nascent Flehmen Response item to trash and went to bed.

Yet, in the intervening days, I’ve wondered if it was just that simple. Did weariness get the best of me, causing me to fall asleep and forget what would have been without a doubt a hilarious piece of online comedy? That’s the obvious answer. But I’m sure it was more insidious than that. What if I inadvertently stumbled upon a post so fiendishly clever and mirth-inducing that it caused people to go mad and governments to fall and suns to explode and universal chaos and terror and disaster and future me came back in time and roofied my Nesquik, knocking me out and erasing my memory of this über-post? Okay, sure, Occam’s Razor and all that crap but can you prove that it didn’t happen that way? Nope, ‘course not.

Hmmm. Fishy indeed.

People I Hate #811 (In A Series)

June 3, 2019

Who: The half-a-doughnut people

Why I Hate Them: You’re at a meeting or an office function, maybe a community event, perhaps some non-profit volunteer gig, and you see that someone brought in some doughnuts. Awesome! Free doughnuts! Seriously, how cool is that? So you go to nab yourself a sweet treat and you see that a few half been taken but – wait, what’s this? Someone took half a doughnut. And, no, I’m not saying someone ate part of a doughnut and put the uneaten half back. No, someone took a knife and cut a doughnut in half and just ate half a doughnut. Why? Who the hell cares. They’ll tell you it was discipline but the practical upshot is it makes anyone who takes a whole doughnut look like an utter pig.

How I justify it: I don’t care if you’re on a diet or you just have the will power of a ninja master, if you are going to splurge then eat the whole freakin’ doughnut. That way, I can at least live in some form of denial when I swing by the Krispy Kreme drive-thru after work and inhale a half dozen on the drive home.

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FIVE RANDOM FIVE

May 31, 2019

 

Five Musically-Inspired Crayola Colors

New Kids on the Black

ChumbawUmber

P!nk

Simply Red

LMFAOrange

 

Five Future Stupid Internet Fads

Cameling (posing on all fours with something stuffed under your shirt on your back to resemble a hump)

Drumsticking (eating imaginary chicken)

Saucering (holding up large round objects over your eyes)

Evolutioning (multiple people posing as the various stages from the evolution of man chart)

Papering (sticking toilet paper on the bottom of your shoe in fancy situations i.e. wedding photos & graduations pics)

 

Five Sounds of Silence

Crickets

One hand clapping

Audience at a Yanni concert

Commitmentphobe’s reaction to “Do you love me?”

Butter screaming

 

Five Rejected Ben & Jerry’s Flavors

Rainforest Crunk

Phish Poop

Hubby Chubby

Upchucky Monkey

Cherry Andy Garcia

 

Five Iron Man Complaints

Electromagnet in chest makes TSA screenings hell

Stark Industries’ Dow Jones abbreviation is STAIN

A-holes who hum that Black Sabbath song in elevators

Pepper seems to have the hots for that dude in Coldplay

In summer, armor cooks chumblies like a baked potato in tin foil

 

Top 10 Comic Strip Secrets

May 27, 2019

The funny pages may seem like little more than a pleasant morning’s diversion, something to chuckle at over coffee and toast, but the truth is there are more sordid stories behind the panels than fleas on Marmaduke! So grab on to something solid and sit back as we regale you with the Top Ten Comic Strip Secrets The Syndicates Don’t Want You To Know!

10. Calvin and Hobbes did not magically sled off to adventures unknown as the final strip would have you believe (sadly, Calvin now resides in a state mental institution, heavily sedated, living in a fantasy world of talking tigers, high-flying spacemen, stupendous superheroes and mutilated snowmen)

9. The Family Circus kids are all adopted

8. Beetle Bailey once shot himself in the foot in order to avoid Vietnam service

7. Rex Morgan, M.D. went to med school in Grenada

6. In 1985, Charlie Brown was given community service and a permanent restraining order for stalking the Little Red-Haired Girl

5. Little Nemo In Slumberland should really be Little Nemo on Psychedelic Mushrooms

4. Mark Trail and Mary Worth are friends with benefits

3. According to Daisy Mae,  Li’l Abner honestly really is

2. Garfield’s owner, Jon Arbuckle, killed his former roommate and Odie’s original owner, Lyman, after he discovered him with veterinarian Liz Wilson. Lyman is buried in the back garden where hapless Odie can sometimes be seen pawing at the ground and whining mournfully

1. Nancy’s Aunt Fritzi makes ends meet by working the pole at Bushmiller’s

Star Wears

May 24, 2019

This is an old commercial for Star Wars Underoos. It’s creepy and sad on multiple levels. First off, if this spot was produced today, the guy responsible would receive a visit from Chris Hansen. Secondly, Boba Fett, who may be the most awesome character to ever spring from the creative mind of George Lucas, can never EVER be cool again after being featured in this. And, third, the kids who acted in this are now grownups and they probably see this and cry, recalling dreams of Hollywood stardom that never was, remembering a more innocent age where their demanding stage mothers dragged them to cattle call after cattle call with the false promise that the ridicule and mockery from the friends who would see them dancing in their skivvies would all be worth it when they accepted their Oscar or Emmy or Tony and partied the night away in their Beverly Hills mansion – but of course it was all a fantasy shattered by mediocrity and years of failure and now they must wipe away the tears of humiliation and despair and get back to work because those shelves aren’t gonna stock themselves!

What Am I a-Freud Of?

May 21, 2019

Gotta bone to pick with my therapist. “Breakthrough” my arse! Repressed memories are repressed for a reason, doc! Hey, if I had wanted to remember that overnight camping trip when I was a Webelo scout I would have. I mean, I shoved it back into the deep recesses of my hippocampus for a reason!

But now it’s out in the open, basking in the cold light of day so I might as well own up to it. Yes, I killed a kid because he wouldn’t let go of my Eggo. And, no, that’s not a euphemism. He actually had the nerve to grab by Eggo waffle as it popped out of the toaster, just like in the damn commercials. I warned him not to but he thought it was funny. Well, who’s laughing now, Crandall? WHO’S LAUGHING NOW?!

See. It’s crap like that you just got to repress or it’ll make you batty.

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Duck Duck Goosed

May 17, 2019

For some reason, this Marx Brothers scene has been running through my head for the past few days. Dunno why. Just a coincidence, I guess…