Category Archives: Funny

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

Postal Presents

We have a United States Post Office delivery person (is that Politically Korrect enough?) who is friendly and thinks Abby’s cute. Therefore whenever something arrives 7th class mail and says, “To XXXX or Current Resident” he kindly scratches out the resident’s name and circles ‘or current resident’ and then places things that might be of interest to Abby in our mailbox. This cracks me up as we have gotten a huge number of catalogs for children’s toys as well as a bunch of samples. While I know that this isn’t the normal course of action I have to say that the companies couldn’t have better focused marketing as this guy knows his route well enough to know that Jane Doe (retired) is less likely to want the mass mailing catalog for Toys ‘L’ Us. The other side of this is that we have a cupboard full of individual samples of diapers that we won’t be able to use until kiddo #2 comes. Oh, and he also dropped off quite a nice razor that was shipped out as a sample for me… I don’t know if that’s a hint or he figured that the woman who was the initial recipient didn’t want the mens razor. Seeing as how I don’t shave my legs I don’t know if it matters what gender your razor is 🙂

Engrish Acronyms

If you’ve not read engrish.com, one of my personal favorites for a good laugh, then you should go check it out now while I sit here and wait.

[Still waiting]

[Waiting some more]

[Gosh darn you’re a slow reader]

OK, I’m glad you’re back! Funny stuff, huh? This last week in Texas my friend Mike told us a story about a heavy metal concert he went to back in the day and there was a band there from Japan that totally blew the audience away. Not with their music mind you, but with their Engrish. They came out onto the stage and yelled, “LOCK and LOLL!” As Mike tells the story he can’t recall the actual headliner band he went to see, but this band is stuck in his head from now until he dies or the Mannheim Steamroller sets in. So, as I was chatting with another friend tonight I realized that there was a whole area of confusion to exploit: Engrishized acronyms. For example:

ROR
Raughing Out Roud. Use this in place of LOL with your friends to help keep them on their toes (or finger tips if you will)
BLB
Be Light Back. Use this one when you’ve got to go to the potty and need to tell your frenz about it. There’s nothing quite like knowing someone is going to the bathroom at some remote location
LOFR
Lolling On the Froor Raughing. This one is even more intense than ROR and should be reserved for highly funny engrish.
ROTL
Rold Of The Lings, a famous movie reference. You can’t go wrong with Flodo, Aligoln, Gimri, Regoras, and Gandarph set out on an adventure only to be helped by Gorrum in the end. Oh, and Samwise, too, but his name doesn’t Engrishize well.

Shell Shocked

I think this picture accurately shows the absolute shock that comes over parents at times. Particularly parents of two-year olds.

Parenting is Shocking
Abigail had ‘the runs’ today, which caused her pain and discomfort. We don’t like it when she’s sick or hurting because most of the time it is completely out of our control. What was shocking about this experience was the absolutely bizaare instinct that Abigail showed each time she’d have an accident (every time but once today… uggghhh). The instinct that kicked in for her was removing her panties, pull-ups or whatever else happened to be around her bottom no matter where she was. This gave the opportunity for messes way beyond our sickest dreams. However, Jessica, being a good working-class, blue collar, do-it-yourself-er took care of the mess. This made me look like an insensitive guy. Of course this isn’t completely out of character, but I work for cash-money during the day which puts me at a distinct disadvantage. Jessica on the other hand works for no money but probably puts in more manual labor than most construction workers (which may be an unfair comparison given that I always see them on break).

However, that being said, the shock of parenting gets outweighed by the wonderfulness of snuggles, kisses and “I love you’s” from this little girl.

Life of Crime

When I was a kid my cousin Jenny was one of my most-favorite cousins [apologies to my other cousins for a youth’s favoritism], whatever she liked was cool. She wanted to grow up and be a hair dresser and so I would let her do my hair up all ‘cool’ so I could look like whatever the cool guy’s name was (I don’t even remember the actor’s name). Jenny really liked MacGyver. If you don’t know what MacGyver is (there are readers of this blog who are younger than Mr. Swiss Army Knife) he was a guy who could get himself into tough situations where evil people were going to kill him and he’d always use science or ingenuity to get out of the bind. In one particular episode MacGyver opened a car door with his knife (or so I thought). This little bit of influence leads me to my story…

I, a six or seven year old boy, wanting to be like MacGyver got into my dad’s toolchest and got out his rather large buck knife and opened it up. I knew I couldn’t whittle anything with it because my whittling skills were pretty poor (mostly because I wasn’t allowed to have knives). I knew that I wasn’t supposed to have the knife, but I was a big boy in my mind so my parents needn’t know about the knife until I could prove to them how good I was with it. Well, after thinking a bit I thought about opening up my neighbor’s son’s car door. He was home for the weekend from college. Ms. W. (his mom) gave me my first drum set because her son Brian didn’t use it anymore. I really respected her as a single mom and as a large black woman who probably could have killed me with a look.

So I inconspicuously walked over to the driver’s side door and tried to fit the giant tip of the buck knife into the lock slot. It didn’t fit well, but MacGyver’s knife took a while to unlock the door, almost up to the time he would have been caught. My luck ran out sooner than his did because Brian came out and said, “Hey, what are you doing to my brother’s car?” I told him of my plan to use the knife to get into the car and he said, “I’m going to go tell my mom!” I argued that he shouldn’t but he didn’t listen.

I ran (note to self: don’t run with sharp objects) with the open knife to the garage, and threw it into the drawer because there was no way I was going to undo the lock that held the blade open. I hid behind the trash can and breathed so slowly that I almost passed out. If there was one thing I had learned from the episodes of G. I. Joe it was that when the enemy was near you needed to stop breathing and keep yourself quietly hidden away. I heard Ms. W. open her door and listened to her spout statements like, “What sort of boy tries to break into their neighbor’s car?” I also admire her for not swearing when she probably would have been at least moderately justified for calling me several creative names my parents had not picked. Ms. W. arrived at our front door where my mom was equally shocked to find out what I had attempted. She looked and looked for me.

My mom never found me until I turned myself in. She then marched me over to Ms. W.’s house where I appologized with great tears in my eyes. She forgave me and I learned an important lesson: Buck knives don’t fit in car locks. I also learned that if I was going to be a ‘smooth criminal’ I was going to have to take lessons. They didn’t offer those at the local rec center. So much for my life of crime.

Back in CO

Now that I’ve gotten back into Colorado I’ve got to readjust to Mountain Time as well as not staying up too late. However, that won’t be too hard because the jet lag made me tired.

Jessica told me a funny story regarding Abigail that I just have to share: Abby was on the potty and asked if I had an ‘agina.’ Jessica told her I did not. She then asked if Ice Cream had an ‘agina.’ I don’t know that I’ll be able to eat ice cream again 🙂 Of course Abby comes by it honestly because at about 5 or so I got to watch a steer (castrated bull) get butchered and I asked my mom if every single piece of cow they removed from the carcass was a uterus.

Advice from Dr. Phil?

One can only ask if this man faked a robbery because of Dr. Phil. Man staged robbery to impress wife. I know that when I see Dr. Phil I want to stage at least some sort of stupid or illegal activity: A book burning, a TV demolition (don’t burn your TV, it’s bad for the environment), or using the dull can opener in the kitchen to open French cut green beans [if the French are really responsible for this style of green beans they should be… never mind].

Link via Dave Barry.

Gloves

Between watching the excellent movie Bourne Supremacy and watching The Original Avengers I don’t trust people with gloves anymore. Since winter is coming up and I’m in Denver I’ve decided to stay inside my apartment until Spring arrives and warms things up. If someone comes to my door and knocks whilst wearing gloves I suppose they’ll just have to think I’m not home. The reason the gloves bother me is the fact that nine and a half out of ten killers in either of the fantastical sources mentioned above are wearing gloves or have a glove on at least one hand.

One episode of Avengers had a guy in leather work gloves that were unmatched! Therefore if I see someone wearing unmatched gloves I shall have to just knock them out before they get me. You may be laughing right now but I know they’re coming. One day I’ll be coding, looking towards the outside of my office and snap – I’ll have my head twisted, neck broken or worse, Jessica will bring me more wheat-free desserts!

I should also clarify that black leather gloves give me the hibijibi’s much more than most other gloves. Thinsulated skiing gloves only effect me slightly and thumb only mittens don’t cause me any fear whatsoever. Thank you for not wearing any gloves around me. Also, thank you for not wearing gloves while surfing my site.

I’m Going To the Bathroom

Not literally. Not now at least. However, in an effort to help Abby feel really comfortable with blurting out that it was potty time I’ve gotten into the somewhat regular habbit of announcing that now is the time for me to go potty. I will say, “Mommy (Jessica), I need to go potty.” And Jessica will promtply encourage me to hurry (get to the potty before we have an accident). It’s wonderful, Abby takes it all in and ignores it when she needs to go potty.

I feel like a good parent at least setting a good example of public proclamation.