Category Archives: Funny

Goofy, off-the-wall or silly things I might find or think.

How Often Does This Happen To You?

This morning Jessica showed me two pictures of different hair cuts. She was about to leave for her hair appointment so she wanted to have my backing on her choice to get a mohawk. OK, the pictures weren’t of mohawks. But they were of girls who had the exact same hair cut to me. They could have been twins, I swear. But they weren’t. In her detail oriented eyes they were different cuts with similar styling. To me in my hairblind eyes they were both blonde, both looked like they’d been airbrushed/photoshopped to death and were under studio lighting. Their hair? I didn’t care about that part of the picture because I was distracted by everything else.

Sometimes being a man is completely insane because I just can’t think clearly about what Jessica is presenting me. I think I’m going to use my digital camera for good [instead of evil?] next time and we’ll scan in the photos of the styles she likes and then shoot some pictures of her head in the same angle and then I’ll morph the pictures together so that we can pretend what Jessica would look like with her hair done by professional hairdressers every morning instead of by herself while Abby and Evie vie for attention 🙂

Kids These Days

I just had one of my friends’ sons ask me if I’d ever heard of a Robo-Raptor. Heck no. Of course not. No way. I’m 28. That is like asking me if I wear womens clothing with regularity (that too is supposed to be a rhetorically implied negative). I haven’t looked at the latest toys for (mostly) boys in years. And I sure don’t know what their names are. I think this officially puts me over the threshold of ‘twenty-something’ to ‘curmudgeonly-old-guy’. I’m OK with nose piercings, tattoos, iPods and various technological changes, but can we PLEASE have the OLD Legos back? You know the ones that were not kits of 30 special parts to make the dino-crapto-saurus? Let imagination and creativity be the focus not lifelike plastic replicas of things that may or may not have looked like modern artistic interpretations?

I remember when we used to walk barefoot through the snow because we liked it that way and it put hair on your chest (or in the case of women it was preparation for childbirth). OK, that’s a lie. I don’t remember that. I do however remember creativity was encouraged by teachers instead of test taking skills and television had scary Skeletor and not pansy claymation construction workers with talking tractors. Kids need a little fear in their lives. Now the closest thing to Skeletor they have is Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton.

At the Airport

Overheard walking through the ‘port:
“I took, like, a sleeping pill. It totally freaked me out. It was, like, a Xanax.”

What the heck? Xanax should mellow people out! Maybe she shouldn’t have mixed the Xanax with methamphetamine [note: Microsoft Word doesn’t offer synonyms for methamphetamine].

So this morning as I was waiting for my Grande Soy Latte at Starbucks (which I don’t prefer, but given I consumed Folgers all week, this was a step in the right direction in my caffeinated world) I noticed that the young lady in front of me was wearing a Victoria’s Secret sweatshirt. It was not lingerie it was a sweatshirt. Weird. Weirder still was the fact that her pants had a large hole in their right buttock [20% of the total right buttock area in my general estimation]. There was some sort of fabric underneath the pants that made sure that the public was not exposed to skin, but there was an awkwardness to this for me because I didn’t know if she was wearing a long striped shirt that extended way beyond what I have seen in shirt design, or if I was being exposed to the stripy colorfulness of her undergarment. I didn’t want to be exposed to either of the options, but it was clear that this hole was a fashion. The third alternative is that there was a colorful, stripy, and stupid piece of cloth sewn into the pants, but that defeats the purpose of the hole and I did not see any thread that indicated sewing lines. And I know sewing lines in pants like I know molecular biology [which I don’t].

OK, so here’s where it gets weirder: I saw another woman walking through the airport moments later that had incredibly tight pants on that left nothing to question about her lower body structure. I imagine those pants cut off the blood circulation to parts of her body and took a large amount of time to squeeze into. Maybe they have started to make “pants horns”, much like shoe horns, only larger and more stunning in their dimensions.

Even weirder was that Soledad O’Brien is on CNN this morning talking about a coyote. The woman sitting across the airport waiting area from me was smiling a large smile as she watched the news about the coyote. It is kind of scary because I don’t want for her to enjoy coyote news. I guess I’m generally an anti-coyote news sort of guy, which is something I didn’t know about myself. Coyote news feels rather stupid in the grand scheme of things because coyotes, wily or not, just don’t seem to be a really important part of urban ecology. Sure, that could change, but I doubt it.

I have had 4-6 hours of sleep the last couple nights and I’m getting burned out on the whole ‘low on sleep thing.’ To further the issue last night I woke up several times with my brain in a near panic due to not wanting to miss my alarm. The same alarm that woke me up the other days that I was on this trip that kept my sleep to a minimum. For some reason not showing up to the office on time didn’t concern me, but missing a flight to get home where I would be alone was apparently important. Apparently I need to find a sleeping pill that is not, like, Xanax.

The Brokefast of Champions

Yeah, so this morning I made some assumptions about how things were going to go down, but they didn’t. So instead this was my breakfast. Yum.
Breakfast
Pretzels are good for you for breakfast because their sodium content is enough to draw out the water from your body. Wait, that’s not good for you at all! Ahh! I should have gone with the bacon, cheese, fat breakfast burrito instead with a side-order of oil-saturated re-constituted potato (bi-)products.

Funny Sunday School Moment

So, this morning I concluded my two week ‘series’ on sexual perversion in Sunday School. The first class was heterosexual perversion, the second class was homosexual perversion. Frankly, that could be a rather awkward class to teach anywhere, let alone in a class with quite a few post-retiree attendees. After teaching for a bit the oldest man in the class (who has to be in his late 80’s) piped up and asked, “How does bestiality tie in with all of this [perversion]?”

Me: Dear in the headlights! Didn’t see that coming.

Yeah, you know you go to a church that is full of grace when you can address these issues without coming across like ‘GodHatesFags.com’ and the oldest guy asks about perversion with animals so that he can attempt to fathom where the culture has gone since he was a teenager back in the earlier part of the 20th century 🙂 He also asked where the term ‘gay’ came from to mean anything but happy since when he was a bit younger that is what the term meant. Fortunately I had learned the answer to that some time ago. Still, its weird being 28 and fielding questions on such intense [or at least heated] topics. I don’t know that the MP3’s will be made available online or not in the near future, but they’re going to have to be edited 🙂

Tech Gangsters: IBM

Flickr Photo
You know things are getting pretty rough in the tech world when IBM employees start tagging utility boxes.

I’ve also uploaded some other pictures to the site (click the image above to see my Flickr photos.)

Tinkle, Tinkle, Little Star

A few annymous females that I lived with while growing up used to use a word for ‘urinating’ that was fun: Tinkle. What is weird is that in the English language we have such a large body of vocabulary dedicated to bodily functions in general. I recall hearing as I grew up about a contest they had at my dad’s place of employment that encouraged the employees to come up with other names for ‘cow pies’ and by cow pies I mean manure, cow poop, dung, cow crap, meadow muffins, cow frisbees, boot muck also known as fecal matter of bovine origin.

Another blog I once read had a listing of names for boy and girl private parts as well. What was funny was reading that many people used the same word to describe the front or back side of male or female parts depending on the family. Can you imagine getting married to someone only to discover that their ‘pom-pom’ was a completely different ‘pom-pom’ than your’s [don’t think about that too much]? And that is why I wanted to ask this question: if you are a parent, what sort of vocabulary do you have for dirty business in your house? We have stuck with as much of the scientific words so as to make it less of a shock when people use them in polite company or educational environments and they don’t snicker like a candy bar.

America’s Next Top Squirrel Hunter

Note: This is just satire. Jessica asked me if I was insinuating that she was part of the dumbed down masses. I told her that it was satire to which she promptly told me that I could satire my way through three loads of laundry, washing the dishes and licking the toilette bowls clean. Very funny indeed. OK, she didn’t really say that to me. Which is fine because this is satire, its intended to be rediculous, and completely false. That’s what makes it funny [well, that and it would help if it was actually funny].

I don’t know about you, but I feel like the networks have exploited the reality television genre enough now that I’m ready for something more fake. Take for example the ‘Next Top Model’ idea. It is a copy of American Idol. Which is a copy of Star Search, which is a copy of the Ed Sullivan show which was a copy of the Magna Charta. And as all American and British historians know is a copy of the original Da Vinci Decoder ring rumored to be in circulation among a secret society of cracker jacks connoisseurs.

The problem is that the shows are not as real as real life which means they’re edited down and pieced together to be interesting to the dumbed down masses people who find them interesting. The problem is that reality is much more boring for most of us. But I’ve got an idea that will change all of this. Everyone needs to spice up their lives by doing something interesting and intense every day. That way it will force the networks to cut back on reality shows and hire people to write good television documentaries. I think that’s the direction television will go… if it starts moving backwards. Actually the new hit show will be much longer than most shows because it will be made for television movies – except they’ll be worth watching. And there won’t be any cliff hanger endings, you’ll feel good about how all of the loose ends are no longer loose and instead, much like Pamela Anderson, they’re wholesome and make you feel good about yourself, your body, your peers and world peace. Wait. No. That’s not right.

Run DMC Was Illin’

While I’m reminiscing I should call back to the days of 1986. Yes, that was a good year for baseball cards. Peter Rose was still Charlie Hussle, My grandpa liked the Giants and I gave him a batch of Oakland A’s baseball cards, and more importantly I was hanging out with the neighbor kid who introduced me to “Rap.” Specifically Run DMC’s ‘You Be Illin’.’ I think my brother and I walked around the house just saying, “You be illin’,” over and over again until our parents literally threatened to feed us to the trolls that lived under the bridge on the way to the park. I can remember getting a hold of a large cardboard box, spreading it out in our living room and, yes, you know what’s coming, breakdancing. Or at least trying. Basically breakdancing consisted of us doing strange contortions, spinning on various parts of our bodies, but not actually resembling that which was the current trend of break dancing. I can remember hearing stories of what must have been trillions of people dying or being paralyzed from doing a headspin wrong.

A short while later I went off of a jump on my bike and that same neighbor kid exclaimed, “That was bad!” To my horror he did not like my jumping technique or performance. I asked why to which he replied that bad meant good and that it was the new cool thing to say. I was relieved and quickly converted to defining all that was good as bad because everyone was doing. Now of course the Jewish boys down the street were not doing that because their rather orthodox parents would have pretty much uncircumcised them if they attempted to define what God had called good as bad and vise versa. Being protestant and all, I didn’t have a clue what the fuss was about. We used cool to describe things that were not cool to the touch, but certainly cool to see, feel, experience or wreck.

And finally, on this trip down memory lane… I once climbed into the bed of a truck that was parked in front of the house of this same neighbor kid. Unfortunately it belonged to the neighbor guy’s friend who was over who quickly came outside and chased me out yelling about how the truck was his. I ran home, slid underneath my bed and attempted to stop breathing so as to be nearly invisible if he came looking for me.

Good time.