Tag Archives: humor

I think I’m ready to start a new blog.

31 Mar

Tonight, while stewing in annoyance (the most bitter spice), I realized I need to start a blog to vent about it.

My new blog will be TOTALLY anonymous (unlike this one, which is pseudo-anonymous) and it will be called “Don’t Get Me Started.”

Oh wait. I just checked for that domain, and someone already owns it. But isn’t doing shit with it, as evidenced by the “Under Construction” landing page.

Don’t get me started. People who buy up domain names then camp on them, hoping someone somewhere will invent something requiring their name so they can profit? Totally lame.

[Side note: Out of curiosity I just googled “expensive domain names.” As of 2010, the most expensive domain in the world was Insure.com, for which cost some company I’ve never heard of $16m to buy. To the donkey dick who first called dibs on insure.com: I could say “well played” or reference the irony of your domain choice, but — don’t get me started.]

[Second side note: Any guesses on the other nine most expensive domains? Two are general business words (funds, business); two others are direct goods (diamonds, toys) and four of them – not surprising – are vices (sex, porn, beer, casino). The wildcard in the Top Ten? Israel. Anyone think a wealthy Palestinian with a sense of humor is responsible for that?]

Revised new domain idea: pissandvinegar.fml

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When I say “cow vagina” I mean it as a compliment.

28 Mar

My pottery studio has “open studio” time on Sundays when students can come in to make-up a class or put in some extra time on a project. Since I missed my usual class on Saturday, I bounced into the studio yesterday to work.

One person there was part of the work-study program, where you work in the studio in exchange for wheel time and clay. He seemed somewhat new to the arrangement because he wasn’t entirely sure what he should be doing while we were working. So he talked. And talked.

The guy ran his mouth at an unprecedented pace, and everyone started making eye contact that seemed to say, “Who IS this guy?”

Here’s how he warmed up…

Dude: Some people say that form follows function and the shape of your pot is more important than the color of your pot, but the color IS the form, so it’s the most important piece.

Someone Else: I want some of what he’s smoking.

Dude: It sounds like exactly what I said!

Someone Else: Pure bullshit?

And for our glazing edification, he then took the conversation here:

Dude: I never like using the “Red Mamo” glaze. It’s unpredictable.

Someone Else: Really? I’ve had no problems with it.

Dude: Yes. The last time I glazed a piece with it, it came back looking like someone had ejaculated on it.

Stunned silence. I want to ask if he’s ever had a piece some back with a turd in it, because I can totally imagine someone taking a dump in his bowls if he always talks like this. But I refrain.

Dude: Let me tell you, you can’t even GIVE AWAY a bowl that looks like someone has ejaculated on it.

Studio Lead: No bodily fluid talk, please! From here on out, it’s only Animal, Vegetable or Mineral if you need to make a comparison.

And then the kicker, which I am not embellishing even a little bit:

Dude: I’m learning two words in every language.

Someone Else: Wow.

Dude: Yes. In Japanese I know XXX and YYY.

No one says anything because we don’t care.

Dude: The one is “hi” and the other one is “cow’s vagina.”

Everyone is smirking and trying to ignore him.

Dude: Because apparently in Japanese if you want to tell someone they are the bee’s knees, you tell them they’re the “cow’s vagina.”

I’m pretty sure he’s learning his words from Ron Burgundy.

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One situation, two takes.

24 Mar

With her thought process, this is what my sister's sons' braces might look like. Except I have no idea who this kid is.

My parents are coming to visit this weekend, so they hit the road earlier this morning. Around noon I got a message from my mom, calling to tell me that she had just done something and there was sizable chip in one of her front teeth that was large enough to make her self-conscious.

I immediately called my dentist and scheduled an emergency visit for her tomorrow to fix it. Then I emailed my sister and updated her on the situation. This is her response:

My solution would have been to unbend a paper clip and superglue it across her front teeth so it looks like she’s in a temporary set-up from a hockey injury. That’s what they did with me last summer when I broke off the one tooth and bent the two others: bend them back out and glue a wire across to hold everything in place. With all that metal, no one noticed the missing tooth. And if they did, they just though I was badass. Cuz I didn’t give a shit.

My mom should be glad she’s visiting me instead of her other daughter.

And I think we all know who she’s going to want to be her caregiver when she’s too old to dress herself.

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Further proof I am an idiot.

21 Mar

There are some foods I love because of their texture: Tic Tacs would be one, banana chips another. I don’t even like bananas, but I love banana chips. Go figure.

One thing I like to do with banana chips is to put one in my mouth and wedge it between my upper teeth so it fits there snugly for a moment before I tap it with my tongue, breaking it in half and relieving the tension. (I know – this is vaguely pathetic. I can’t even believe I’m admitting this.)

Since you’re already cringing in horror at my revelation, I’ll take it one step further down the path of shame.

About a minute ago, I performed “Operation Wedge” and got a banana chip stuck in the roof of my mouth. Except, when I went to “tap and relieve” it, it wouldn’t break.

There is a fine line between enjoying a texture and imposing some odd tension on your palette, and freaking out because you think you’re going to need to have a banana chip surgically removed from your upper cleft.

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You can tell we’re related. And not just because of our humor.

11 Mar

In the middle of my otherwise stressful work day, I checked my personal email and found this gem waiting for me from my sister, who shares my sense of humor:

Last night I had my spinning class and was super gassy. I’ve never done this before, but last night had to go to the bathroom to let off a little pressure because I was getting crampy.  There were 2 girls in there, probably middle-school age.  I go whipping in (trying to hurry so I can get back to class), go in a stall, and though I tried to be quiet, end up ripping some of the largest, squealiest farts.  Then the girls started giggling.  I peed and then had some more gas, which was just as obnoxious.  They whispered and giggled some more.  I went out to wash my hands and figured I had to own it.  I said, “I know.  It’s nasty.  But I figure better here than in class.”  They couldn’t even look at me.

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