Category Archives: Funny

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

The Drumstick of Doom

When I was a boy I did not like chicken. There wasn’t a meat besides hamburger that really appealed to me, but chicken was right out. My mom probably cooked it because it was inexpensive to feed a family of 5 with chicken instead of steak and Lobster. However, I was not a big fan and so I took every oportunity to complain and gripe.

One night my dad was not home from school yet (my dad was in school for much of my youth, at least before I was a teenager) and my mom stepped out of the dining room for a moment. Not being keen on chicken I took that oportunity to slide the sliding glass door open and race to the trash can and dispose of the chicken I had been served. Brilliance. How could I lose for clearing my plate?

Well, for starters there was no chicken bone on my plate. That drumstick had a bone down its center that clearly made up a non-edible piece of chicken. My mom, not being as dumb as I had for some reason anticipated, asked me if I had eaten my chicken [I should not quickly that she most likely heard the door open and close]
“Yes,” I answered.
“Where is the bone?”
“Um… I ate it.”

I don’t recall the conversation after this point, but I do know that my mom went out to the trash can and found the chicken in it. I was punished with having to eat two pieces of chicken. Doh! The moral of the story should be something whittier than “don’t lie,” except that its not. At least she didn’t make me eat the chicken I had thrown away!

Eating Humble Pie, Er Sandwich

Yesterday at lunch I regurgitated some food trivia about the Sandwich. This simple staple was named after the Earl of Sandwich who would not quit playing cards to eat. He ordered his servant to bring him so meat between two pieces of bread. Thus he could hold his cards in one hand and his food in the other. This idea caught on with the other players who wanted what ‘Sandwich’ was having. Thus, the term was born. I told this brief story and got some funky looks from my sister-in-laws. What use was this bit of trivia?

About 32 hours later it became quite handy as the Cranium game we were playing asked about just this thing. The oposing team won and the girls learned that the trivia I store in my brain, spew out of my mouth, and make them listen to… can be useful for something. If I hadn’t have told that story the other team would most likely have gotten it, but since I had already shared it they were certain. Drat!

Worship the Turkey

I just read in an email: “Happy Turkey Day!” Which is like saying, “Happy Mashed Potatoes Day!” We’re not worshipping the turkey, are we? Where are you putting the focus? I’m here to be thankful to God for what He’s provided me with. Its not a day about turkeys is it? Even if you remove the current culture’s rather agnostic/atheistic views from the picture verses my radical Christianity** and go back in history the people were grateful for surviving and they were grateful, together, for what they had. Saying happy turkey day is useless… especially if you’re a vegetarian. Or worse yet: A Hindu. That’s like saying, “Happy We’re Going to Be Eating Your Great-Great-Grandma Day!”

Happy Thanksgiving folks, from the bottom of my un-PC heart.

**that’s supposed to be a joke, I consider myself radical, but not the way some people define radical

A Fine Car Indeed

Last night I went to pick up the Peer family from the airport. We own a green Honda Civic 4 door. It seats five. Five small people. Five small anorexic people. Five small anorexic people who do not have luggage. Five small anorexic people without five pieces of large luggage and some backpacks.

Our Honda civic is too small for carrying that many people. We had luggage on laps, I think we were dragging something off the bumper as well. I think we’re going to go get ourselves into debt for a mini van on Black Friday 😉 Just kidding. However, our fine car gets great gas mileage. It gets the good gas mileage through the use of a special turbo charged lawn mower engine. I’m pretty sure that’s what’s in there because if it was any less powerful with 5 anorexic small people with no luggage it would not go.

This is in no way a complaint about Hondas. They’re great cars. But you have to use the car for the right purpose. But you know what they say: When you’re a Hammer everything looks like a Vanilla Ice.

Vittles

This year we will be attempting the Alton Brown method of cooking our turkey. This involves days and days of brining the turky, and only hours of cooking. In theory this will be the best turkey dinner we’ve been involved with. In actuallity I think it will be yet another fine turkey meal. The best part is that we’ll have lots of family at the place, the worst part is that those same wonderful people will generate dirty dishes. My mother-in-law has been doing so much housework that I’m almost certainly going to volunteer to do the dishes after the meal, it is only fitting that if everyone else is involved with all of the other aspects I shall be the one to clean up the left-overs, clear the table, wash the table, wash the floor, wash the dishes and make sure I check all of the belly-buttons of the dishes for lint.

What sort of Thanksgiving traditions does your family have?

Nursing

Tonight one of Abby’s dolls began crying. Jessica then said to her, “You better feed her.” Abby lifted up her shirt and placed the baby doll’s plastic mouth on her chest. We all chuckled at this innocent mimicry.

About 2 minutes later Abby walked over to the couch with two of her babies and said, “Mommy, you better do it. I don’t have any milk.”

Yoga. No!!!

So… Nick posted about yoga on his blog this morning. And I left him a comment of encouragement, but also, I had to blog about this so that he might laugh, and that I might not effect his SEO with references to flatulance or any of the other lovely parts of my yoga experience.

You see, my wife is a yoga queen. She’s capable of all sorts of contortions, flexes, twists and positions that are apparently inidicative of being a flexible human being. She married me. I basically have three positions which I can assume: sitting, standing and laying down. There are brief times that I am not doing one of these, but they are merely when I am in between the transition from one to the other. She and I got a video of Yoga exercises to be done at home in the privacy of our living room. This was back in Texas. This was before Abby, I believe. So it has been some time. Jessica has been trying to get me to do yoga again since then.

We would change our clothes into the attire of people who were going to work out and then start the video. The problem is that, as many of you know, yoga is partially flexibility. I am about as flexible as a wet noodle. Well, a noodle formerly known as wet. So a once-wet-but-now-dry noodle. So I would sit on the floor, start the positions, nearly give up due to not being able to reach my toes with my legs not bent, be repremanded by Jessica and then make it about 1/3 of the way through the 30 minute video. For those of you keeping track, that’s 10 minutes. Ten minutes of flexing my body in ways it is not used to being stretched.

One of the claimed benefits of yoga is that it helps your body detoxify. Well, my body apparently stores up toxins in a gas form. About 10 minutes into the video I would start ‘passing wind.’ And then with each change of position I would continue to do so. This is one of the single most powerful non-yoga arguments I can come up with for men. It is very difficult to streth into a position that requires muscular control and balance while also trying to have control over other muscles that may prevent the room from being uninhabitable. So, once things would start ‘detoxing’ we would be either laughing or crying but the yoga would be heavily interupted.

Is it just me? Am I the only one who gets gassy due to yoga? It may be possible, but I’m hoping that I’m not alone, unless I’m doing yoga, and then I should be left alone.

Idiots with Idioms

Have you ever found yourself in a sticky situation where a word or phrase has two meanings and after you say something you think, “Drat! I’ve now insinuated something that I was not trying to insinuate.”? Last night I really screwed up and used the term ‘nailed’, which can mean to hit something dead on or accurately connect with something or someone, in a context that could alternatively implied another definition: to have intercourse with. Nothing like slipping up at Bible Study when you’re trying to convey something good and instead deliver an innuendo. Doh!

Horrible Examples of Hypocrisy

So this evening I was watching Scary Movie on NBC and a commercial comes on with Megan Mullally. In the commercial, which is supposed to be a public dis-service announcement, she tells people that its what is on the inside that counts. If you’re not feeling good about yourself on the outside then you need to find who you are on the inside.

Doh! This woman is on a TV show about physical attraction between straight and homosexual people, she’s been touted as one of the more voluptuous women over 40 or some other such label. She has apparently lost some weight to feel more attractive… and yet she needs to tell people that even though they can’t be like her, they should be happy with who they are inside. Lame.

I find public service announcements to be absolutely insulting. Other fine examples of these things are people saying that our public schools are going down the tube due to President Bush’s signing into place the ‘No Child Left Behind’ act and then having someone on the television tell me that I should stay in school to have a fulfilling and meaninful life. We have shows that require actors and actresses to do crazy (and theoretically funny) things because they’re drunk and then those same actors and actresses do public swervice denouncements saying, “Drinking doesn’t make you cool.”

Continuing on with Molly, I think that television has clearly enunciated the fact that sex sells. I have to laugh at the idea that every other commercial seems to have at least one element that involves sexuality and then they put one on that’s suppose to counter that. I think Molly should have been wearing sack cloth and ashes instead of a slender, form fitting outfit to tell people that looks don’t matter. Looks don’t matter on television like being dumb (without speech) works on radio. I think this is going to really impact America’s culture – we’re all going to feel better about ourselves because a television star told us to.

On the upside I feel better about myself because I’m not telling everyone else to feel better about themselves. In fact, I don’t feel good about myself sometimes, and that’s good, it shows that I recognize areas of my life that need improvement. By being content with parts of me that are goofy (and trust me, there are plenty of those) they’ll stay that way. I don’t sit and dread them, but I also am not going to just say, “It doesn’t matter, I’m perfect just the way I am.”

Oh, and by the way, you should feel good about yourself because you’re created in God’s image. Or, maybe you should feel better about yourself because you weren’t watching Scary Movie on NBC 😉

Dominated

Our house is now dominated by baby stuff. My bedroom, once a sanctum of marriage is now an even more crowded room with baby stuff covering surfaces to make sure that any time during the nightly nursing process we can take care of this. Our basement has Abby’s toys on one side and Evie’s vibrating seat and swing on the other side, flanking the TV. The kitchen has a vibrating seat to hold the pumpkin girl whilst we eat, the living room has somehow escaped unscathed. My office also holds no baby things, but the computer surely is now loaded with many pictures (only some of which are worthy of internet distribution, in case people *cough* Shari *cough* are wondering where new ones are).

Evie has now dominated the landscape of what was once a simple domicile. I love her though, so its OK to lose the house to gain a beautiful daughter.