NOTE: As promised, here's a post from last year (or was it the year before?) Oh, screw it, I'm on vacation so I don't feel like looking it up. Wait a minute, this is a delayed post, so I haven't left the country yet. So, I could look it up if I wanted. Screw it, anyway. More than a few of you may have already heard some of the little gems below. But, try not to ruin it for the others. By the time you read this, I'll be fast asleep after winning Lindsay's Samba and Corona Chuggin Contest the night before. In fact, I probably won't get up for hours. Have fun at work. Anyway, hope you enjoy....
Grumpy, in addition to being one of my favorite dwarfs (or should that be ‘dwarves’?) is one of our least appreciated emotions. Not nearly as popular as ‘Giddy’ or ‘Surly’, it still can be quite useful.
For, it’s when I’m grumpy that I look at life with something less than a cheery “Golly, gee, whiz!” disposition. At these times, I find myself commenting on things in a “Not For Nothin’” vein. For instance:
Not for nothin’ but...
I wonder what the Reader’s Digest version of the Reader’s Digest would look like.
Foods I find funny: Potted Meat Food Product, Circus Peanuts, anything with the word wiener in it, SPAM, “Smuckers,” Olive Loaf, Beef Tongue, couscous (whatever the hell THAT is), and Head Cheese.
Could be me, but I’m thinking that none of the guests on The Jerry Springer Show ever went to Harvard Law School.
Why don’t they ever sell you the yard at a “Yard” Sale?
Why do we get a receipt for our newspaper? Is that in case we don’t like the news? “Excuse me, that whole Afghanistan thing just ain’t working out. Can I have my money back?”
At 3/4 water, why is it called “Earth”?
Question: Why do dogs lick themselves? Answer: Because they can.
Imagine if we all had our own theme music. Mine would be “Short People.”
How quick is “Remove Card Quickly” at the gas pump? And what happens if I don’t?
There’s no such thing as a bad cookie. Except for that disastrous “Grandpa’s Toe Ahoy!” promotion by Famous Amos.
Why does Hawaii have an interstate?
For the love of all that’s holy, STOP ordering Diet Coke with your Big Mac and fries!
Ever look in the classifieds and wonder just what in the heck “Free to a good home” is all about? Is there some sort of screening process (i.e., “I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Bin Laden, you can’t have the kittens. How ‘bout a ferret instead?”)? And, do you still have to pay if you have a “so-so” home?
I noticed the following road sign a block away from one that said “Blind Drive”: “Dangerous Intersection.” I guess that goes without saying.
Speaking of road signs: there’s one in my neighborhood that says, “Speed Hump Ahead.” I suppose that’s a natural result of “Speed Dating.”
OK, last road sign comment, I promise. I suppose that, in this politically correct age, we don’t want to offend the dead, so we’ve switched “Dead End” signs for “No Outlet.” For the life of me, though, where will I be able to plug in my boom box, then?
Do condoms and athletic supporters ever come in “small?”
Instead of the hardware store, shouldn’t Crack Filler be sold at the pharmacy?
Why do people call them “ink” pens? I’ve never heard of “jelly” pens.
Why are “water” crackers dry?
OK, let’s see if I got this right: “mouse” to “mice” and “louse” to “lice.” So, is it “rouse” to “rice,” “grouse” to “grice,” and “house” to “hice?” But, what about “moose,” “deer, or “fish?” And, what’s with that whole goose/geese thing, anyway?
Sheesh, I’m glad my native language is English.
“Erections which last longer than four hours need to be brought to the attention of your physician.” Four hours!? I’m convinced the guy who came up with that time limit is the same one who lies about “landin’ the big one.”
And, not for nothin’...but if I had an erection that lasted four hours, you can forget about me bringing it to the attention of my doctor. I’m bringing it to the attention of the media.
Message to those people who feel the need to rent one of those storage spaces or “PODS”: You have way too much crap! Throw it away!!
Why do we pump “gas” instead of “liquid”?
I hate those lightning-fast automatic shut-off faucets in public rest rooms. While I understand they’re designed to avoid water waste by clods too stupid to turn the knob, forcing me to wash only one hand at a time is incredibly irritating. But not as much as when water drips into my armpit at the infrared paper towel dispenser.
If the cleanliness of my underwear ever becomes an issue, then I say the accident wasn’t so bad, after all. And, while you’re at it, kindly put my drawers back on, thank you.
Joke Which Isn’t Mine Yet Still Makes Me Laugh: Ya hear about the blind hooker? Ya really hadda hand it to her.
My golf handicap is, well...ME. And, speaking of golf, I think its “fun factor” would be increased exponentially by windmills or stuffed gorillas at every hole.
People who keep their Christmas decorations until St. Patrick’s Day: lazy. People who insist on lighting their Christmas decorations until St. Patrick’s Day: lazy idiots.
Is it physically possible to be “beside one’s self”?
Group Paralysis: what happens at a WaWa when an employee says, “I can help someone over here.”
Why is it we don’t want our money’s worth when it comes to things like college class or physicals? “Dammit, doc, I want my prostate checked and I want it checked NOW!”
The thing that separates man from beast: Port-A-Potties.
I’m going to have to change my gym membership away from that new club in town: “Pontius Pilates.” I mean, we get a good workout and all but I’m getting tired of having to wash my hands all the time. Plus, that whole scourging thing is getting tiresome.
“Kinoki Cleansing Detox Foot Pads”: Japanese for “Sticky Toe Gauze For Suckers.”
Why do we feel the need to identify ourselves on the phone to someone with Caller ID?
Of course, that’s not as silly as how surprised the person with Caller ID sounds when you tell them who you are: “Ohhhhh, hi!!”
When did the symbol “#” become known as the “pound” sign? Isn’t that the symbol for “number?” Now that I think of it, it would be redundant to tell someone to hit the “number” key on their telephone.
The next time you laugh at your dog while he’s backing up all over the yard trying to decide where to drop a “yard apple”, remember how you dance in front of the magazine rack before heading to the bathroom.
If you ever feel the need to “rest” in a gas station “Rest Room”, you’ve been on the road too long. Or you’re homeless. Time to find that light on at Motel 6.
How can you tell if a Smurf is feeling blue?
And, finally, not for nothin’, but if you read me like a book, I’d be a short story.
I’m just sayin’...