Category Archives: funny

Your butt just called….

17 Comments

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I have been receiving a number of butt-dials and butt-texts lately.  Morse code messages appear on my phone and I am challenged to decipher the hidden meaning.  I almost wish I had a decoder ring to help figure out what your butt is trying to text to me.

The butt-dials are always more interesting.  Conversations I should not be privy to are carried on by the owner of the butt and one or more people who are completely unaware that an extra set of ears is following their banter.  Usually I feel guilty and hang up fairly quickly, but on some occasions I linger to see if anything ground-breaking is being discussed.

ace-ventura-butt

(image credit: Ace Ventura, Pet Detective)

We are all familiar with the phrase “talking out of your ass”, but your butt is taking this to a whole new level.  I should feel flattered that I am the one your butt chose to call, however your gluteal region is not making any clear statement when it calls.  It merely teases me with a conversation bubble and doesn’t allow me to participate.

If you could have a cheeks-to-cheeks discussion with your butt and find out why your booty is so anxious to talk to me, I would appreciate it.  And if you do find out what your butt is trying to say, please leave it in the comments below.

Oxy…who are you calling a moron?

14 Comments

I think a lot of us are clearly confused by how an oxymoron is defined. Wikipedia defines an oxymoron as a figure of speech that combines contradicting terms.  Is that lone definitive term a false truth, and is it our one choice?  It’s seriously funny that we use so many of them on a fairly regular basis and have no idea of the genuine imitation of the English language that we are twisting to suit our purpose.

oxymoron

The larger half of us would not believe how many oxymoronic phrases can interject themselves into our daily lives.  We may be absolutely unsure of what the true meaning is, but we ignore the deafening silence and still go on based on that unbiased opinion.

It would be a pretty ugly reality to think that our life is based on a series of contradictory ideas.  We struggle enough just to make sense of reality without having to look for hidden meanings and misconstrued messages.  It is old news that life is a series of mysteries, and it is sweet sorrow when we realize that we are caught in the cycle of definite maybes.

We are alone together in a churning sea of absurdity.  We are lost in the moment when genuine imitation becomes a minor crisis and we have to delve further to free ourselves from a potential crash landing.  That moment of anticipated serendipity presents itself, and I will be among the first to admit my unease with the constructive ambiguity.

While we think we are doing nothing to circumvent the problem, there is an increasing decline in that belief.  Our systematic way of uncovering these terms comes to a rolling stop and we are forced to look at the original copies of our intended idea.

Don’t let the tragic comedy of the English language confuse you.  Be aware of those oxymorons and alleviate any organized chaos in your life.  There may be the most subtle exaggeration in the nuance of words but be cognizant of the silent alarm that will be an awfully good warning of the presence of the greater evil of these false truths.

This post may be going nowhere.  But while you search for the consistent uncertainties in my writing…..give me your extensive briefing and let me know how many oxymorons you think there were in this post.  I will wait through the quiet noise and give you my educated guess after I’ve had my Jumbo Shrimp and boneless ribs for dinner.  Good grief, this post may be a whole piece of true fiction.  Sorry if it was a little much!

Funny ha-ha or funny ridiculous?

12 Comments

Oh Daily Prompt, how timely you are!!  I was sitting on my deck on Wednesday night and out of nowhere began to remember lines from this poetic joke I heard as a teenager.  I may have missed parts….but the fact that I could actually remember this much of it thirty years later isn’t so bad!!

Now listen very carefully,

it’s as simple as can be.

The place is Piccadilly,

the players, he and she.

I don’t know how to do it,

she said with fearful eyes.

It’s getting rather painful,

it must be quite a size.

Now calm yourself my darling,

his face beheld a grin.

Just open slightly wider,

so I can get it in.

Suddenly with a startled cry,

she gave a little shout.

Only a little blood was shed,

and then he pulled it out.

Now as you listen carefully,

it’s a dentist you will find.

It’s not what you were thinking,

it’s just your dirty mind.

Stick a fork in me Jerry, I’m done!

22 Comments

For any of you that watched Seinfeld in the good old days, the subject line of this post refers to the day Kramer lathered himself in butter to tan on the roof and fell asleep.  Many references were made to the smell of roasted turkey coming from the roof and Newman spent most of the day chasing Kramer through the hallways of their apartment building armed with a knife and fork.

I now have some frame of reference to what a turkey feels like when it is pulled from the oven.  Today, I had my first ever M.R.I. to determine what I have done to my knee.  For those unaware of Magnetic Resonance Imaging, the process is similar to taking a meat product and shoving into a casing to create a sausage.  A human body is robed in the flattering hospital gown and pants and thrust into an opening barely large enough to contain said body.  For twenty to thirty minutes, the owner of the body must remain perfectly motionless for the imaging to be successful.

mri-10

(image credit:  howstuffworks.com)

Precautions are taken to restrict any movement of the part being scanned and a call button is placed in the hand of the subject waiting to enter the tunnel in case of any discomfort or panic.  Thankfully I did not experience either of those.  With a knee scan, the head remains outside of the enclosure and the orb surrounds only the parts deemed necessary for imaging.

Ear plugs are inserted to mute the throbbing noise created by the imaging machine and dulcet tones are played to mask the sound of technology.  The soothing sounds of The Eagles helped to transport me to that hotel in California where you can check out any time you want but you can never leave, but the DJ followed up with James Brown’s “I Feel Good” and it was painful to remain still.  Who doesn’t want to move when you hear that song?

The machine hummed and pulsated.  The tube resonated with the sounds of helium-suspended-magnets as bursts of radio frequencies were bounced from my flesh back to a computer where the images would be recorded for posterity and diagnosis.  The heat in the tube increased and my body temperature spiked.  Beads of sweat trickled from my brow and finally the timer sounded.  My M.R.I. was over and dinner was served.   If only I’d thought to prepare myself with some butter, salt and pepper.  Thankfully nobody chased me down the corridors of the hospital with a knife and fork!

This just in….

35 Comments

In what is being referred to as a heinous crime against nature, an unknown perpetrator has assaulted the freshly awakened earth with a blanket of snow.  Investigators have a short list of suspects and a few known offenders are at the top of their watch list.

The Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. has given their profile to local weather  teams and have asked for the public’s assistance in capturing this un-sub before any more damage is done to the pristine Spring landscape.  The blossoming lilacs and daffodils have been ruthlessly violated by the cold temperatures and the cover of white powder.  Nurseries and landscapers are on full alert and have assembled emergency response teams to assist if necessary.

daffodils

(image credit: agefotostock.com)

The F.B.I.’s investigative team has predicted a second wave of the assault on Monday night and are arming their troops in preparation of the attack.  Unlike the blitz invasion on Sunday, the B.A.U. is warning residents NOT to plant and to arm their patio furniture as a safeguard against the defilement.

If you have any information in regards to the events on Sunday, May 12th, please contact Jack Frost and tell him to EFF OFF!!   More news at 11:00.  Now back to you.

Always look on the bright side of life

44 Comments

In my limited pool of knowledge, I have found that there are two types of people in the world – those who love Monty Python, and those who don’t.  That may be a very broad assumption, and one that has been purely based on my personal experience and nothing else.  The people I have encountered have very distinct opinions on the subject and sway very heavily to one side when it comes to the British comedy.  You may be perched on the fence, or have no opinion at all, but this post is based on the myriad of people who have shared their strong opinion with me.

It is not a subject I bring up haphazardly in conversation, but there comes the inevitable moment when I unwittingly kick a reference to Monty Python into a conversation.  It either completely misses  the uprights and lands uselessly in a blank faced crowd, or it sails right down the middle, scores and the crowd jumps to its feet.  It can be the most innocent of comments but Monty Python fans recognize it immediately and a look of happiness glazes their face when they identify with one of their own.  In mere seconds, they have responded with another piece of Python repartee and an entirely new conversation spins in a warped direction.

silly walk

(photo credit: tumblr.com)

I wasn’t introduced to the genius of Monty Python until much later in my life, but I certainly made up for lost time by watching those comedic geniuses incessantly.  Python fans seem to have an undefinable bond.  Without even beginning a conversation, I have had friends walk past me in public places doing their best impression of the Minister of Silly Walks and I can’t contain my laughter.  When I lived in Halifax, we would have Monty Python nights and the group of friends who were as fixated as we were would gather around our television set.  We were all able to quote 90% of the lines in each movie (sad, but true) and we even used small wooden salad bowls to emulate the coconut horse hooves in the Holy Grail.  Obsessed?  Perhaps.  But those are some of my fondest memories.

There are nights when I am feeling less than my usual exuberant self and Monty Python seems to be the only thing that can bring me out of my funk.  The Meaning of Life finds its way into my DVD player, the machine that goes “PING” pings and all is right in my world once again.

Time to weigh in friends – what is your quest?  What is your favorite color?  Which side of Python are you on?

If found, please return to….

19 Comments

Breaking news – this just in:

Spring has been kidnapped.  Mother Nature called 9-1-1  sometime in the early hours of the morning and reported it missing.  According to her statement, she had tucked Spring in for the night and left it unattended.  When she returned to check on it this morning, she found nothing but a blanket of snow and Spring was nowhere to be found.

Forensic scientists and Crime Scene Investigators have scoured the area for any evidence related to its disappearance but currently no reports have been made regarding any leads they may have.  The CSI unit is having difficulty continuing the investigation as the blanket of snow continues to grow and cover any shred of evidence that may have existed to prove that Spring had even been there.

Neighbors that have been interviewed were positive that they had seen signs of Spring earlier the previous day.  One neighbor had stated that a group that seemed oddly out-of-place in the neighborhood had been hovering around Mother Nature’s house the previous evening.  A local Sketch Artist  was brought in and a composite drawing of the potential suspect has been released to the media.

snowflake_skull_by_attero_dominatus-d4xbgeu

(image courtesy of dominatus.deviantart.com)

Friends of Spring are desperate to have it return.  If you see any sign of Spring, please contact me immediately and I will share your information with the proper authorities.

I thought I was in charge

5 Comments

Writing is a passion that requires discipline and focus.  With encouragement from Sage Doyle, I have made the conscious effort to drag my body from the warm cover of my duvet two hours earlier than usual, saturate myself with coffee and develop my relationship with the characters in my book.  Ensconced in the darkened tomb of my living room, I go on a two-hour journey with people I get to know more intimately the longer we spend together.  They take me with them on their epic adventures and I am merely there to document their trials, tribulations and triumphs.

Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings are now dedicated to coaxing those characters from their lair in the cerebral hemisphere they call home and watching how they interact with each other.  They help me understand their quirks and allow me a brief glimpse into what makes them tick.  They seem to have complete faith in my ability to share their tales from the most genuine and descriptive perspective possible.

Monday night I decided to set the alarm and throw a Tuesday into the early morning writing mix.  I woke up early, grabbed a steaming hot cup of coffee, a liquid that is quickly becoming my life’s blood, and sat waiting for the characters to emerge from their cranial apartment.   I sipped coffee and waited.  I filled the mug again and waited.  I knocked several times on the door that shields them from other cerebral functions, and still, nothing.  I pried open the door to their locked quarters and they were gone.

Those elusive characters, seeing the calendar and realizing it was Tuesday, thought they had the day off.  Not one of them had stayed behind with the hopes of participating in a spontaneous writing session.  They sent me holograms of  photos from Disney with trite lines about wishing I were there and each one of them, even the villain, was wearing Mickey Mouse ears.

mickey ears

(image courtesy of yourwdwstore.com)

I will set my alarm tonight and wake tomorrow with the expectation that they will be here and ready to go to work.  I will only knock on that door once and if they stand me up again, I will have their pink slips ready to go.  They’ll never work in this genre again!!

Braker, braker

28 Comments

Dear Driver in front of me on my way to work,

Why, oh why, must you incessantly tap your brakes for no apparent reason.  I understand you became alarmed when you noticed you were going 52 km/h in a 50 zone, but did you know that by relieving the pressure your foot is putting on the gas pedal that your car will slow its pace without having to brake?  Since you are on a relatively level road, the decrease in acceleration will happen naturally and not cause a chain reaction of undue panic in the cars behind you.

brake lights

(image courtesy of diymyhonda.com)

Instead, in a town littered with reckless wild animals that like to create their own crossing spots, you choose to feather your brakes causing drivers behind you to look for invisible dangers encroaching the sides of the road.  Your reckless braking in the wee hours of the still darkened morning is causing those needing more caffeine (such as myself) to shout obscenities that should not even be thought of that early in the morning let alone uttered aloud at a decibel suited for a live concert.

Perhaps my opinion is somewhat jaded since I have been driving a stick-shift since I was 17 and am used to gearing down rather than braking, but, for the love of God please stop putting your brakes on every 10 seconds when there is nothing ahead of you but the open road and no wild beasts leaping from the woods to ambush your car.

I thank you in advance for your cooperation in this matter.

Sincerely,

The person that flipped you off from the CR-V behind you.

I’ll have hysterics with a side of dry pants please

19 Comments

The weekly writing challenge immediately made me think of one photo and I scoured through my pictures to find it.  As you may notice from the stellar 70’s and early 80’s decor this picture was taken many years ago.  If I had to guess, I would say it was 1986 ish.

The challenge is this:  For this challenge, we want to see a photo of someone looking truly happy. Not “I’m-smiling-for-this-photo” happy, but really, deeply, twinkle-in-the-eyes happy. When we’re smiling a genuine smile, our whole faces get involved — our whole bodies, for that matter. There’s a light in our eyes. We look relaxed; there’s a forced tension in a fake smile.

Then we want to know why: what’s going on in the photo? What are you (or they) thinking about at the exact moment? (And if you really want to get into it: what happens next?)

My Nana used to think I was the biggest brat on the planet.  Hard to believe, I know, but that is a true story.  I was a high-spirited child with a penchant for making my presence known and I can see how, for adults, the novelty would have worn off quickly.  Thankfully as I evolved into a teenager and young adult I no longer felt the need to be the centre of attention and I climbed the rungs of my grandmothers favoritism ladder.

nana

This photo was taken during Christmas holidays.  Each festive season my grandparents would pack their car and make the pilgrimage north to enjoy the spectral portrait of our white Christmas.  Nana and I would spend hours in the kitchen cooking, baking and harmonizing to any Christmas Carol we could.  My dad would occasionally chime in and it became a three-part harmony and these moments became some of my fondest holiday memories.

After the casserole was in the oven, I left the kitchen to spend some time with my Grampa as he sat the recliner watching television.  My cat had decided that the recliner was the perfect post to sharpen his non-existent nails and began to rub his front paws on the side of head rest.  Grampa leaned around to see what was causing the movement to his chair and my cat stealthily, and with the grace of a fighter, smacked my grandfather in the face with his right paw hard enough to break his glasses.  Had there been a cartoon balloon hovering over my grandfather’s head it would have been filled with words similar to the descriptive fights in the old Batman comics.  Whap! Pow!  It was feline poetry in motion and my cat sauntered away, satisfied he had made his point.

As my grandfather slowly collected his mangled glasses from his lap, my giggles began.  I tried my best to control the laughter.  I knew Grampa was annoyed and my snickering was only going to add fuel to his fire.  I quickly made my way back to the kitchen to tell Nana what had happened and we laughed.  And we laughed some more.  We couldn’t seem to stop.  I replayed the assault in slow motion and we laughed harder.  Tears were streaming down my face and I had trouble catching my breath.  When the last of the giggles were wrung from my body my ribs ached and my eyes were swollen and bloodshot.  There was enough vision left in those ocular portals to see my Nana sneaking down the hallway to change her pants!!

I have many fond memories of visits with my grandparents before they left for the world they now inhabit.  I hope they remember this moment with as much fondness as I do. (at least I hope Nana does!)