Category Archives: Funny Stuff

You Gotta Smell This Stench

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One of my favorite bloggers and a guy that I wish I could get together with more for lunch is Jeff Martin, aka Fecund Stench.  His Christmas wish list is a perfect example of why I love his writing.  Here’s the link and here’s the list:

To the following, I wish anything but the Joys of the Season:

  • Telemarketers – I’m sorry that you are poor and this is the best job you could get.  It’s still no excuse.
  • Banks – There may be a good one out there. If so,
    I apologize. But the conditions that bank employees and customers
    endure is inhuman.
  • Politicians – I could put all the good ones in a small closet with Howard Coble.
  • Rabid Liberals – You’re just not helping.
  • Rabid Conservatives – You’re just not helping.
  • Rabid Libertarians – You just want to legalize pot.  We get it.
  • Food Lion – Again, inhuman conditions for employees and patrons.
  • News & Record – One day when you are retired,
    I want someone to explain the editorial gestalt. I don’t get it. See,
    when I make a booboo, I apologize and get on with it. I don’t stand
    there quietly looking at the 800 Pound Gorilla in the room.
  • New Car Dealers – I pray there is a special place in Hell for you.
  • Property Developers – My hands ache to get a hold of you.
  • Jesus Freaks – Why is Jesus such a babe?  Would you not have fallen for an ugly man?  Or God forbid, a woman.  Wake up and smell the coffee.

You Can Call Me Turd Blossom

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As I‘ve written before my most important familial role is not being "dad" or "husband", but being the expunger, er plunger, of the household floaters.  For those of you who don’t know what a floater is, just think of that stuff that you find in the toilet bowl when the previous user has left a deposit, followed it with about 1/2 roll of toilet paper, pulled the flush handle and then dropped the lid before witnessing that the deposit has not been processed properly.  Or in the real world think of it as the stuff you find in the toilet bowl after the previous user has left a deposit plus 1/2 roll of toilet paper and dropped the lid despite seeing that the deposit has not been processed properly.

I dubbed myself "The Turd Man of Alcatraz" because I thought it accurately conveyed my feeling of being imprisoned with a bunch of toilet defilers, but when you get right down to it that’s not really a good nickname.  I mean it’s just too long.  I suppose you could shorten it to "Turd Man" but that makes me sound like some sort of demented super hero.  So I was elated when I found this Wikipedia entry listing the nicknames used by President Bush.  It ends up he calls Karl Rove  "Turd Blossom".

My friends, "Turd Blossom" is the perfect nickname for me.  I think it conveys a bit of the Zen-like feeling I get when I’ve held my breath for 90 seconds as I vigorously plunge the offending turd bowl.  Some might argue that I’m close to passing out, but I think I’ve entered an altered state of consciousness peculiar to we chronic turd plungers.   Kind of like the mad hatters of the 19th century.

Yesterday I continued my role as "Turd Blossom" by having to plunge two bowls before 8 a.m.  I’d have hit the trifecta if I’d gotten up before Celeste, because she found a pile of dog poop in front of our back door. Apparently the dog hadn’t done all his business when we let him out before going to bed the night before.  The result is this weekend I’m going to hold the first monthly Turd Blossom Academy class on proper butt wiping technique.  The class title is, "Save a Tree: Why You Don’t Need 3 Feet of Toilet Paper for Each Pass of Your Pooter".  Next month it will be, "Why We Use Soap: The Joys of Dysentery". Class fees start at $50 per person, but we offer sibling discounts. 

Did We Loose or Lose?

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One of the more interesting aspects of reading blogs is reading the comments that each post gets.  You may think I’m talking about the "community" aspect of blogs engendered by the "conversation" between the blogger and the commenters.  Nah.  I’m talking about some of the amazingly BAD communication that goes on, what with poorly thought out arguments and horrible spelling.

Now I don’t want to be one to throw stones, because Lord knows I’m prone to horrible grammar and my own share of misspelled words, but there are two words that I find to be the most commonly misapplied.  They are "loose" and "lose".  If one were to depend on bloggers and their commenters for the proper usage of these words we’d soon find ourselves loosing games and tightening lose shoestrings.

Why these two words?  I mean "loose" has a very long OOH sound and "lose" has a much shorter, sharper U sound.  You’d think that the two Os in loose would prompt the speller to think "loose" and not "lose", but that isn’t the case.  Perhaps it’s the same mental malady that causes people to associate "republican" with "fiscal conservative", or "pat buchanan" with "moral", or "hummer" with "SUV".  Who knows, but it’s as irritating as the sound of some looser rattling the lose change in his pocket.

Call USA-1000

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Oh man does this bring back memories.  Anyone who grew up or lived in the DC area back in the 70s will remember this classic commercial for Jhoon Rhee self defense.  Remember, Jhoon Rhee means might for right!

And You Thought Going Blind Was the Worst Possible Outcome

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I can remember hearing all the crazy things people used to say to disuade boys from pleasuring themselves.  You know, spanking their proverbial monkey.  Hairy palms and blindness were the most oft-warned side effects of this ubiquitous practice.  Well, since we don’t have an epidemic of men with fuzzy hands, wearing dark sunglasses and using a tap cane we can safely assume that these warnings were fabricated by grossed out moms and priests who wanted to keep all the fun to themselves.

Interestingly, though, Iran’s supreme leader Sayyid Ali Khameini has weighed in on the subject of self diddling (found via Boing Boing).  According to his blog men should not exercise their wrists during Ramadan.  He has a Q&A section where he addresses the issue:


Q: "If somebody masturbates during the
month of Ramadan but without any discharge, is his fasting invalidated?"

Iranian Supreme Leader: "If he do not intend masturbation and
discharging semen and nothing is discharged, his fasting is correct
even though he has done a ḥarām (forbidden) act. But, if he intends
masturbation or he knows that he usually discharges semen by this
process and semen really comes out, it is a ḥaram intentional breaking
fasting."

Here’s the interesting thing to me; by saying that it’s not good during Ramadan it seems to me he’s saying that it’s okay during the rest of the year.  Combine that with the whole "virgins waiting for you once you blow yourself and a few hundred innocents up" thing and you’ve got quite the recruiting video for young radicals.

Hindi Thriller

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My fellow local blogger Esbee sent me a link to the video below.  It’s an Indian version of Michael Jackson’s Thriller and it has convinced me that if I ever want to look like a reasonably passable dancer then I need to change continents.  This reminded me of Medina Kabob in Woodbridge, VA where I would often eat lunch with my buddy Ted.  They had a TV in the corner that had Indian music videos playing all day and we’d end up choking down our food while trying not to laugh too loudly.  BTW, if you like Pakistani food you’ll love Medina.  Enjoy the video.

What Will Your Kids Say About You When You Kick It?

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Badheadstone_1
Found via Boing Boing is this interesting little epitaph (see left). It reads in full:
To Our Mother

Mona Herold Vanni


October 14, 1912 to April 11, 1996


You spent your life expressing animosity for nearly every person you
encountered, including your children. Within hours of his death, you
even managed to declare your husband of fifty-seven years unsuited to
being either a spouse or a father. Hopefully, you are now insulated
from all the dissatisfaction you found in human relationships.


Buddy, Jackie and Mike

I think I’m gonna write my own epitaph, thanks very much.