Not stupid, but extremely cute

Tonight, for a change-up dinner, my wife made chocolate-chip pancakes, IHOP style... The kids, as expected, got pretty silly and hyper, and getting them ready for bed was a lot more difficult than usual. Throughout the evening, my wife often told the kids, "I think those chocolate chips went straight to your head."
My 5-year-old son, "JD," finally settled in and got ready to say his prayers. It was difficult keeping a somewhat-straight face as he prayed, "God, please take the chocolate chips away and get me out of my head."

Ah, a Family Circus moment.

Who Wants To Be a Moron?

As some of you may know, Regis Philbin, aka "America's Most Annoying Male Personality" is hosting the Fox Network's NYE celebration. Have you seen the promo? First of all, Reeg comes on in that frantic, shrill, hyper "HI!!!!!!! I'm Regis Philbin!!!!"
(Sarcastically) Oh, goody.

I'm glad you cleared that up buddy, because I was waiting for the Oreck infomercial....

Reeg goes on to talk about all the happenings of the show, including a humongous list of musical acts and other show-biz entertainers, and then concludes in that same monotone, spastic tone:
"HEY! HOW LONG IS THIS SHOW ANYWAY???"

A) ...Great way to promote interest in your show, Philbin! What, are you in a hurry to get into your dressing room at the end of the show to be alone with that jug of Dom Perignon?
B) Didn't the show producers tell you how long the show was? I can see it now. "...Yeah, when the show ends, keep the cameras rolling. We'll see how long we can feed his ego! I've got a sawbuck on 5:30 AM!"

Happy 2006, everybody!

Wait. I don't get it.

A local banquet hall has an ad for their facility for New Year's Eve night. "These family New Year's Eve celebrations are free and we guarantee it! That's right, these free events will cost you absolutely nothing!"

...So, ...How much is it?

Repeat after me... "IDIOT!"

Mike Farris, Esq., one of the leaders of an organization called Home School Legal Defense Association, is a frequent contributor to an E-zine called "Homeschool Heartbeat." It is designed to encourage homeschool parents and foster creative ideas. Not every idea is a good one...
Mr. Farris talked about ways to further interest your tactile learner in their education. (They best learn through hands-on experience.) "...You're going to have to be creative in giving your kinesthetic learner things to touch... Don't just tell him about evaporation; put some water on to boil and let him feel it!"

I can't believe a lawyer gave that kind of advise.
"Hey, Johnny! What happened to your arm? It looks horrible!"
"Oh. Second-degree steam burn. That's OK. Mommy sued somebody and I now have enough money for my entire college tuition!"

High society

My wife has just returned from a failed attempt to see the Nutcracker at a small local university. (The ballet company gave out more tickets than there were seats, which is worthy of a place on this blog by itself!) Anyway, as she walked back to the parking lot to get back into her car, she noticed a brother and sister, apparently in their early 20's, walking a couple of short paces behind an older lady. The sister was well dressed, and quite "Valley Girl." She was most upset at not getting into the Nutcracker, and whined, "Mooooooommy! Take us somewhere!!! Let's go for... sushi! There's got to be a restaurant on this place!"
The brother seemed to be familiar with the campus. "No," he snapped. "There's not!"
Unfazed, Ms. Underprivileged moaned, "Well, what's there to do around here? Mommy, let's find something to do!"
The brother had had quite enough of this incessant boo-hooing. "There isn't anything to do here. This is a school. And it's closed!"
The dim light bulb of adolescent recognition flashed briefly. "Ohhhhhh..."

...And your application to this institution is due for a rejection!

Home shopping in the membrane!

Years ago, at the telecom break room, Pat entered to see that QVC was on the TV. Only one other person was in the room at the time, a middle-aged gal named Carol. She was a very kind, but introverted, lady. Though she often did watch QVC or HSN, she was contentedly reading a novel, not paying the idiot box any attention whatsoever. Therefore, Pat politely asked Carol, "Would you mind if I changed the channel?"
Carol looked a bit startled as she took her gaze off her book. After a brief thoughtful pause, she answered, "OK. No problem."
Pat put on ESPN, or something like that, and settled down for his break. Well, scarcely a minute later, Carol closed her book, got up to leave the room, and muttered, "...But I like jewelry!"

For the next 15 minutes, you can buy an attention span for only $13.99!!! Call in now, operators are standing by!

The blind leading the helpless

Sometimes I wonder how long my job will exist, especially with the cranial fog leading us...
My supervisor Jan was looking for a specific uniform emblem. Since part of my duties are to stock such materials, she asked me about it. I don't have a problem with that, but I do have a problem with how quickly the conversation deteriorated.
JAN: Did you stock any emblems today?
MR. I: Yeah, early this morning...
JAN: When?
MR. I: First thing. It was quarter after 5.
JAN: Where are they?
MR. I, not believing what my ears have heard: In their proper locations!
JAN, not believing I had given her a literal answer: Oh... (long pause, accompanied by a vacant stare)

I can hear Butthead's voice now... "Uuuuuuuhhhhhhhh, huh-hhh-h-huh!"

You know, It wouldn't have been the last work day before Christmas without some kind of mental fiasco. Merry Red and Green day. (For those who don't get it, read PerpetualChocoholic's blog...)

Bombed in Beantown

Some people take sports WAY too seriously...

An acquaintance of mine who is a huge Boston Red Sox fan recently posted on his blog, upset about one of the Sox's star players signing a contract with the archrival NY Yankees. I'm not sure if he was so angry that his ability to communicate properly was blurred, or if he had downed a few Long Island iced teas too many. Anyhoo, I shall type his post EXACTLY as he typed it.

DAMON DUMPS SOX FOR YANKS

Another fails to do off-season movement by the red sox...
As for Johnny Damon the $52 1000000 contract of Yanks which cannot maintain Damon which signs exactly in 4.

I the sickness on this am literal. As for our front offices there are shambles. We are talent peddling where we are best. That has done the fact that already they are 86 years completely. If us good fortune, it is that.

Who wrote this, Yoda???

It's great to know that the author of this piece of genius is an IT analyzer for a major American corporation. Makes you take pride in American products and services, does not it!

Lacking common $en$e

My wife took the kids to the local dollar store today (bold letters to drive home a point) so they could buy some gifts for family members. While there, my wife heard the following exchange between an older (but not elderly) couple as they were buying things for-- apparently-- their granddaughter...
MRS, holding up an item: What do you think of this?
MR, tone of apathy: Well, I don't know...
MRS: Why? What's wrong with it?
MR: How much is it?
MRS: It's a dollar, dear.
MR, hesitantly: Well, ...I don't know. There's no price on it!
MRS, patiently: It's a dollar. Everything in this store's a dollar.
MR: Well, I'm still not sure... I'd better go ask someone how much this is.

Yeah, you do that buddy. And while you're at it, ask the clerk what name is listed on your driver's license.
DEDUCTION: This man does NOT have a future with the IRS or the US Treasury.

Signs, signs, everywhere a sign

Today, my supervisor Jan pooled everyone from my shift together to go over some basic fire safety procedures. She began by covering a list of primary exits for us to leave the building by should there be a fire or a drill.
"All of these doors that has the 'exit' sign above them, those are our exits."

REALLY!? I just thought those signs were for illumination in case the lights went out!

Unintelligent design

Today, as I sat with some of my co-workers at lunch, the newscast on the cafeteria TV informed us that a Harrisburg (PA) judge ruled that the Dover (PA) Area School District could NOT teach Intelligent Design in its Biology materials. (This whole case was made famous by radical statements made by Pat "My Foot Is Tasty" Robertson.)
"Bess" said, "I don't even know anything about it. What's Intelligent Design?"
I proceeded to tell her, stating, "I don't see what the big issue is. It's not religion. It's a belief system, just like evolution is."
"Alena" was clearly agitated. "No, evolution is a theory."
I replied, "Right. A theory, by definition, is a scientific proposition that is not or cannot be absolutely proven. Therefore, it's a belief."
Alena disagreed. "Just because it's not proven does not make it a belief!"
I rationally explained, saying, "If something cannot be proven, then it takes faith to accept it as truth. Hence, it IS a belief! But faith is required. Intelligent Design is not necessarily advocating a specific God or higher being; it only proposes that a higher, outside force is responsible for the order of the universe. It is NOT religion, it's simply a belief system!"
Alena shook her head, and defiantly voiced, "I'm highly against anything that requires that you go to church."
WHAT???
Yes, I see on page 2 of the I.D. textbooks that it reads, "In order for the reader to grasp the concepts taught in this book, it is necessary, without exception, that you regularly attend and participate in a fundamentalist Christian church."

I should know better than to try to have a logical discussion with some of my fellow employees. Therefore, I submit to Sierra that I should be nominated for the Idiot Cloud Award for today...

Wheel of Fortune confessional

Upon watching "Wheel" tonight, I laughed when Pat Sajak did the customary contestant introductions... A gal from Jamaica, NY presented herself thusly:
"I have a beautiful baby boy, Isaac. Along with going to work every day, I've re-entered Elementary school."

Needless to say, she didn't make it to the bonus round!

Somethin's goin' down!

...Chapter 572 from "the Annals of My Sojourns at a Major Telecommunications Company..."
As usual, after taking directory assistance calls for a couple of hours, my buddy Pat and I went into the break room to unwind and maybe catch up on some TV viewing. We sat on a couch at the back of the room, and Dee ("I burned my @$$!"-Getting to the seat of the problem) entered the scene, briefly sitting in a chair at a table directly in front of us. She was just getting ready to start her shift, and as she gathered her things to go into the office, a whole bunch of garbage fell out of her sweatshirt. We tried not to visibly chuckle as we viewed a Wendy's French fry box, tissues, a straw and a couple of other paper products crumpled up on the floor at Dee's feet. Dee became flustered and in mock amazement, asked, (with GREAT animation) "How did that happen? Where did those come from???"
I couldn't keep my big yap shut. "Um, they fell out of your shirt!"
She obviously couldn't believe that we had witnessed this strange event. "How did they get in there? How???"
We started laughing. It was just too funny. However, in an attempt to be polite, I got up from my comfy seat in an effort to pick the trash up.
Dee wouldn't have any of that. "No, no, that's OK. I guess I'm gonna have to go down for it."
This was the last thing spoken, but it wasn't the end of our bizarre experience.
Dee picked up the items, and left to dispose of them in a proper receptacle. I turned to see Pat laughing so hard that his face was literally candy-apple red.
It took a couple of minutes for Pat to catch his breath. "She just mooned me!" he choked.
"What?" I asked.
"She wasn't wearing any underpants!!! She bent down to pick up that stuff, and her #@&* was right in front of my face!!!"

My eyes!!! The burning! MY EYES!!!
Ah, yes. There's nothing like a large, unsanitary woman who stores crap in her shirt and goes commando to her phone job.

Job requirement: sight

My job at a distribution center is not a place that requires rocket science, only that you pay attention to what's going on.
One of the features in the building are blue carts located at various points within the facility along the two main aisles. When the order pickers empty a cardboard container of garments, they cut it flat and lay them on the cart. Then, later on, maintenance takes the pile of flattened boxes to the baler.
Today, I was assisting the order pickers, and I happened upon a small pile of flattened boxes laying on the floor where a blue cart would normally be located. For whatever reason, the cart had been moved to the other side of the aisle. It was not visually obscured or hidden. I asked-- not expecting an answer, "Who left all these boxes on the floor!?" (It's a safety issue.)
"Leila" emerged from a side aisle. "I did," she replied. "...Since the cart wasn't there."
I turned and pointed at the cart located a scant 8 feet away, just on the other side of the aisle! "It's right there," I informed her.
Leila got an annoyed look on her face, and with disgust, snorted, "Well, how do they expect us to find it there?"

If ignorance is bliss, it appears Leila has found paradise.

Orthodontic faux pas

Years ago, as I worked in my mid-management position for a major telecommunications company, a man from Tennessee joined our directory assistance team... His name was John, but we all called him "Big Show" due to the fact that he was about 6'4" and beefy, and had a voice like Elvis. Well, old Big Show wasn't exactly the most intellectually diligent person on earth. Sometimes, he just plain lacked common sense.
The ordeal began as he was taking calls while munching on some pretzel nuggets. (First, how'd you like to be requesting a phone number and hear the operator constantly crunching in your ear?) Well, I paid this no mind initially, until he loudly winced in pain. His hand was on his mouth. I watched as he ended his call, went to the bathroom, and then came back to tell me, "Ah chipped a tooth, and it hurts real bad, ya know." I looked, and indeed, he had. His top front tooth had severed in half.
I told him to talk to the office manager, which he did, and then left for the day.
The next day he came back, telling us he went to the oral surgeon and had it capped. That should have been the end of the story, but, if it were, you wouldn't be reading it!
No more than 5 days later, another cry of agony escaped Big Show's lips. This time I went to his desk to check on him.
"Ouch! Ah think ah just chipped muh tooth again! The same one!!!"
I looked down next to his keyboard, and saw a large stash of Life-Savers. "Were you just eating those?" I asked in doubtful anticipation.
John looked beside himself. "Well, yeah, but ah don't see what that has to do with anythin'."

Thfmmk yih, thfmmk yih fvrrmy moomphf.

Media moron

Bob Scheiffer, temporary (thank God) anchor for the CBS Evening News, recently did a live interview with Sen. McCain (R-Az) regarding treatment of prisoners of war. For those of you who don't know, McCain himself survived as a POW in Vietnam. Anyhoo, Scheiffer coveted the senator's expert viewpoint by posing this cloud of brain flaccidity:
"Why do you think the US needs to seek legislation to ban torture?"

Did Bob think he was questioning a reincarnate Hitler???

More mall madness

For whatever reason, the TV ads for our local mall, "The Mall at Steamtown" are just completely idiotic and devoid of purpose. To drive home my point, I quote:
"Every time you shop the Mall at Steamtown, you'll find us in the exact same great convenient location!!"

Yeah, it'd really suck to have to drive to a different place every time I wanted to go shopping.

Clueless cash flow

A radio ad for an e-commerce car loan company is commonly featured in our local market. What really gets me is the senseless lack of logic behind it....
"Last year, my husband got hurt and was unable to work. I couldn't get a job, and the bills kept on piling up. Finally, we had to declare bankruptcy. When it came time to get a car for our daughter, no car dealer would give us a second look. Then I logged on to GoofyCarLoans.com...*

...And you'll pay on the loan with what income?

*Name of E-company changed to protect its shroud of sheer stupidity intact

Can't see the trees through the Wal-mart

As my wife completed her Christmas shopping for the kids yesterday, she passed a group of teens in one aisle near electronics. Other than the fact that they were amazingly under-dressed for this time of year (it was about 25*F (-4*C)), the slobby youths were looking bewildered and lost. The one scabby boy said to his group of friends, "Hey... I thought you said there's trees in this store. I don't see any!"
...In electronics...
One of her female compadres disgustingly turned to the first and snorted, "They're outside!"
Scabby looked only partially enlightened. "Oh... Well..., what're they doing out there?"
...Mind you, as you drive into the parking lot, you pass the trees in the home & garden department...
Apparently, a tree just wasn't that important. "Well, I don't wanna go out there. I don't have a coat!"
What, did you teleport yourself from the car?

If a brainless stoner falls in the middle of a big store, and nobody is around to hear it, does he make a sound?

Mystery meat??

A friend of mine had just finished a large meal when a slight gastral eruption escaped from her lips. She paused, thoughtfully stared, and then asked me, "...Ever burp something and not know what it was?"

Food for thought, shall we say...

Another geographically challenged man

In an interview with NBA sports star Ron Artest, he disclosed he wished to be traded from his current team, the Indiana Pacers. But to whom?
"If I go to the West Coast, I would come back to New York... [Or] I would go to Cleveland..."

I gather he didn't obtain a 4.0 in college.

Thanks for the input, Chang. Not!

My wife and I had Chinese last night. The lack of creativity by the fortune cookie writers became evident when my wife read her bland offering:
"Everything has an end."

You mean, like your career as a fortune writer?

This was NOT the wierdest fortune I have ever seen. Once, a co-worker of mine received this message: "A nice cake awaits you."

Darn it, I'm all full from the fortune cookie!

Overly fixated on chronology

As I hear many many many Christmas carols and songs on the radio, I begin to realize how insane a few of them are. ...Especially one popular one by the Beach Boys.
"Christmas comes this time each year!"

Well, it is common knowledge that the Wilson brothers were usually under the influence for years...

My kind of shopping mall!

An ad for our local mall was on TV just a bit ago. The video feed shows a woman sitting at the edge of one of those wishing fountains in the middle of the main walkway, bordered by art deco tiles. At that exact moment, the voice-over quips, "...Featuring a lovely tiled bathroom for your convenience!!!"

Then the gal swirls her hand in the water in the fountain!

Forget pennies. Next time I go to the fountain, I'm putting something else in!
...No, not for real.

Bart's in a fog-- literally

My good ol' co-worker Bart is, among other things, an avid sportsman. He took 2 days off of work just to go hunting. Well, he got his buck, butchered it himself that very day, and has lived solely on venison since. There's only one problem. It obviously doesn't agree with him, if you know what I mean. Things were already bad before deer season; my department refers to the bathroom as "Bart's office." You get the drift. (oh, BAD pun!!)
This morning was particularly atrocious. It was easy to tell where Bart was, and where he had been. Purple haze hung everywhere! Finally, Sam had the guts to say, "Uh, Bart, you think you might want to check your pants?"
Bart was clueless. "Why? What do you mean?"
Sam shook his head, "You reek, man."
Bart either had no sense of smell or didn't care about hygiene. "What?"
Sam came right to the point, and said, in more colorful terms, "I think you may have soiled yourself."
Bart was either defiant or completely daft, I can't be sure which one. "What are you talking about? I don't smell anything."

Meanwhile, the rest of us were asphyxiating.

I spent a good portion of the day reliving childhood memories of silly quotes like, "He who denied it supplied it," etc... Yes, I know. Men are so anal!

Getting paid to ask pointless questions

Ya know, I wish I was a sportscaster. Where else do you get to be a doofus in front of millions of viewers, and still come out smelling like a rose? Oh, yeah, and having a wad of dough in your pocket!
My fave is when a sports reporter interviews a coach or star player of a team that just won a championship. Invariably, the question/statement that flies out of their mouths is, "Could you try and describe the feeling in the locker room right now?"

Gee, Bob, it really sucks! Can you please describe what you're doped up on for me?

A heck of a lotta good this'll do ya!

Saw an ad on TV that made me say, "WHAT???" and then laugh out loud. (Modern medicine is great! You can treat a set of symptoms and trade them in for a whole new set when your body screams, "WHAT ARE YOU PUTTING IN ME???")
Toprol is a beta-blocker that's used to treat hypertension, angina, and heart failure. At least that's what its website says.
First ridiculous thing: "You should not take Toprol if you have uncontrolled heart failure."
Um, isn't heart failure what you're trying to treat?
Second ridiculous and hilarious thing: "Avoid activities which require alertness."
Therefore, the following activities are taboo while you are taking this product:
Waking up in the morning.
Conversing with others.
Walking.
Watching TV, unless you're just using it as background noise to lull you to sleep.
Reading.
Dressing yourself.
Eating, unless you're being spoon-fed by someone else.
Bathing.
In other words, life in general!

Sorry, doc, I can't take Toprol. I have to live tomorrow.

More bad underwear slogans

Man, I just can't get away from the butt lately!

While shopping in Stuff-mart today, I passed through the men's clothing department, and unfortunately encountered a wide assortment of boxers with slogans that make me want to sing the old Sesame Street song, "One of these things just doesn't belong..." Although the store was all sold out of "The Twilight Zone" underwear, My wife and I did have the opportunity to collapse our heads into our hands upon seeing the following:

(Steamy, dirty socks with print below) What is that stench? It's fantastic!
(M&M guy dressed as Santa in a chimney) HELP! I'M STUCK!
(The Grinch clutching a Christmas tree, which was placed in a very interesting spot.)
--This one reminds me of Kris's post, "Before You Personalize..."

What, are people looking for gag gifts just extraordinarily cruel this year??

Do we really need this product?

Speaking of butts....
My wife was in the pharmacy today to get some mineral oil. (...For my 21-month-old son!) After the last couple of posts I've furnished on this blog, she got a kick out of what she saw right above the mineral oil...
BORDEAUX'S BUTT PASTE
Heals diaper rash and dry, cracked skin
--Goes on easy, comes off clean!
--Pleasant fragrance

Dude, this is just so incredibly wrong on so many levels...

Yet another pain in the arse

OMG. The fact that people actually research stuff like this, and then feel the undeniable urge to share it with the entire world!!! Reuters News service relayed this oh so pertinent and life-changing story to us, the unwitting public...

Study: Longer Needles Needed for Bigger Buttocks
Fatter rear ends are causing many drug injections to miss their mark, requiring longer needles to reach buttock muscle, researches said...
Standard-sized needles failed to reach the buttock muscle in 23 out of 25 women whose rears were examined after what was supposed to be an intramuscular injection of a drug.
Two-thirds of the 50 patients in the study did not receive the full dosage of the drug, which instead lodged in the fat tissue of their buttocks...
Besides patients receiving less of the correct drug dosage, medications that remain lodged in fat can cause infection or irritation, researcher Victoria Chan said.
"We have identified a new problem related, in part, to the increasing amount of fat in patients' buttocks," Chan said.
...The 25 men and 25 women studied at the hospital ranged in age from 21 to 87.

YUCK! Old, fat rumps getting repeatedly stabbed by people locating and identifying!

Getting to the seat of the problem

A few years ago, I worked for a major telecommunications company in the directory assistance department. Not only did I take calls from customers, providing them phone numbers, I also worked as mid-management, documenting time records, handling payroll, calculating employee work adherence, etc. I sat in the front of the office on a small, slightly elevated platform performing these duties.
One day, one of my co-workers innocently got up from taking calls to use the facilities. "Dee" was a very large, unkempt, loud, often-unbathed and socially aloof creature. I dreaded any interchange of wordage with her. Anyway, I saw her go out the office door, and thought nothing else of it, attending to my work. ...Until...
A few minutes later, Dee waddled back into the office with a ferocious anger scarring her already frightening face. It wasn't the waddle of a large person; no, this gait had pain written all over it. My assistant "Keila" and I fearfully awaited her approach as she made a bee-line toward my desk. Then, as 80+ employees are trying to service their customers on the phone lines, Dee blurted out, "The cleaning lady just finished up in the ladies' room, and the cleaning solution burned my @$$!!!"
I sat stunned at what I, and everyone else, had just heard.
Keila burst out laughing.
Keila actually had to go and file an accident report and submit it to our boss.

...But wait, there's more!

The next day, Dee hobbled into the office at the start of her shift and informed us, "Well, I had to go to the doctor, and he prescribed a special topical cream. I need help putting it on! I can't reach back there!"

Well, DON'T look at me!
The story you have just read is true. Only the names were changed to protect the innocent and the bizarre. Really. I have witnesses.

Please check your plumbing

Special thanks to "News Quirks" by Roland Sweet for blessing us with this info.

Police at Texas A&M University arrested two men for showering at a women's bathroom at a shelter for victims of Hurricane Katrina. Evacuee Arpollo Vicks, 20, of New Orleans, said that he and his 16-year-old cousin were both born male but live as women and consider themselves female. (Notice no evidence or mention of an "operation.") Vicks said that she had never encountered a problem when using women's bathrooms, adding that she wanted to shower in the women's facility because she felt safer and more comfortable doing so. "This is nothing to be in jail for," she explained. "I live like this. This is my life."
--Bold italics added for emphasis upon the exact wording used for this story.

Hey, at least you didn't have to share a cell with a Packers fan! (See "File under 'Get a life'.")

Get the idea!

Here's proof of yet another business organization that doesn't understand that using automated dialing services is a huge waste of money...
The phone rang. I unwisely answered after seeing a number I didn't recognize on the Caller ID. A recorded message came on, informing me I may be eligible for "an exciting offer for a new rural home loan!" I laughed, because as I have previously shared, we aren't homeowners. I decided to call back, since it was a local number, to let them know who they have offered their services to.
RECEPTIONIST: Thank you for calling Smackers Home Loan Mortgage Confederation*! How may I help you?
MR. I: Yes, I just received a recorded message from your business offering me a home loan...
R: Yes?
MR. I: This is public housing. Obviously, I am not qualified to get a home loan!
R: ....Oh! (Recovering) I'm very sorry. We use an automated teleservice to place our calls.
MR. I: Yes, and obviously, it's a huge financial drain on your company, because who knows how many people like me you'll contact!

Sometimes, it's a whole lot of fun being undeniably right.
*-Name of company changed to protect them from further ridicule and embarrassment

Welcome to Walmart. How may you help me?

My wife ("Mish-mash mousse") went to Walmart to buy a Christmas present for me today. (No, I don't know what it is!) She apparently found the item in a large bin, price clearly marked, near the registers. So then she goes to check out. The cashier went to scan the item, but it had no SKU tag. So she asked my wife, "Do you know how much this item is?"
MMM: Well, it was right in that bin over there, so I think it's probably X dollars.
C: Um, do you know what department that is?
MMM: Sorry, I don't but it was in that bin right there.
C: Gee, I don't know. (Looking over to next register) Hey Bob! Do you know how much this item is?
B: No, what department is it from?
(Finally, C gets the idea to go over to the bin to make sure like items are in it. But, instead of doing the obvious and grabbing another thing with a SKU, she wanders back to the register and...)
C: OK, now I have to figure out how to override the system so I can enter the department and price...

"Can I please have a CSM at register 3 for a brain scan?"

File under "Get a life"

Just saw something totally ridiculous on the news. Apparently, during the game this past Sunday between the NFL's Green Bay Packers and the Philadelphia Eagles, played in the City of Brotherly Shove, A man, last name Nateboom, ran onto the field with a bag full of his mother's ashes and scattered them on the field. He then stopped upon reaching the team logo at center field, dropped face-first and allowed himself to be carted away by security. He claimed that it was his mother's wish, as she was a lifelong Eagles fan. He said, "The only bad thing was having to spend the night in the slammer with a Packers fan."

PLEASE reprioritize your life, buddy! (If you can call it a life.)

A little late, don't you think?

From "News Quirks" compiled by Roland Sweet comes yet another story that just makes you shake your head in bewilderment.

The Rev. Kyle Luke was stepping into a small pool to baptize a new member at University Baptist Church in Waco, TX, when he reached to adjust a microphone so he could be heard. (Was Kyle impersonating Homer Simpson? Why why why why OH WHY??) It produced an electric shock, which electrocuted Luke in the waist-deep water. Ben Dudley, the church's community pastor, said, "Everyone just immediately started praying."

Yeah, I guess everyone was so busy talking to God about a dead pastor that nobody remembered to call the operator to ask, "What's the number for 911???"

Read "duh" directions

Today, I bought one of those lighted reindeer lawn ornament figurines to decorate our front yard. It was in a pretty small box, so I knew I'd have to do a little bit of assembly when I got it home.
Sure enough, I took it out of the box, and all the parts were neatly folded/fitted together, surrounded by bubble wrap. On the one end was a strip of paper tape, affixed onto the wrapped package. The paper tape had some information on it, so I went to read it.

"1. Do not cut light string wires when unpacking product."
Gee, I guess that would kind of defeat the purpose of the ornament!
"2. Do not use scissors, knife or sharp blade to cut protective bubble wrap away from product."
OK, that's common sense to me, but I can understand why they'd write that.
"3. Find paper tape that secures the protective bubble wrap around product and pull away paper tape."
Uh, what is this thing I have here with the instructions???

If you can't follow and understand stuff like that, you don't deserve to have lawn ornaments!

Potatoes with panache?

Buffet-style restaurants can be such a mixed blessing. On one hand, you can get something for everyone in your family that they'll like to eat, but then on the other hand, you have to deal with other people and their peculiar food practices.
We went to the local buffet last night, and as I passed the spot where all the condiments are, I saw a lady holding a scoop full of cottage cheese right up to her nose with a crinkled look upon her face. In her hand she held a small plate with a baked potato. She sniffed the white substance, sniffed again, and sniffed a third time. She turned to the lady next to her and asked, "Thelma, does this smell right to you?"
Thelma stayed at a distance and said, "I can tell just by looking at it that that's cottage cheese. If you want sour cream, it's in the container next to it, on the left."
"Oh," responded Sniffer Lady.
Then she looked again at the spoon full of cottage cheese, gave it one last whiff for good measure, shrugged her shoulders, and plopped the cottage cheese right on top of her potato.

Could somebody please contact our flavor expert, Flava Flave?

A Thanksgiving break from stupidity

On this Thanksgiving day, I realize I have much to be grateful for, perhaps even more so than in past years. Today, I am breaking away from the ridiculous and listing some things that I am extremely thankful for... This is mostly in no particular order.
1) I am thankful for my home. It isn't much by most people's standards, but it is home, and we almost didn't have it. (Long story I'll not delve into.)
2) I am thankful for my job. Yes, at times my supervisors and co-workers can get under my skin, but it is a good, secure job with numerous possibilities for the future, if I so choose. For now, I'm glad I have the position I do, in this time when so many fine, outstanding people are struggling to find work.
3) I am thankful for God's patience, which I have tried many a time.
4) I am thankful for my children, who, though they can be a source of headaches at times, are the beautiful, remarkable kids that I dreamed about, even years before I met my wife.
5) I am especially thankful for my wife, who has meant what she said when she vowed "For better or worse." She has often seen me at both extremes.
6) I am thankful for pain. Without it, I wouldn't have realized how dangerously close we were to being ripped apart as a family.
7) I am thankful for my freedom. I am free to worship as I choose, express myself and prosper as much as I can.
8) I am thankful for my friends, especially my old college roommate, Dan, who taught me an invaluable lesson in facing the most dire of obstacles and overcoming through sheer determination. (My prayer for him is that he remembers what he taught me as he confronts some amazing difficulties now.)
9) I am thankful for my extended family. We haven't always seen eye-to-eye, but in the end, we all realize we're in this thing called life together, and have stuck it out through thick and thin.
10) Finally, and most importantly, I am thankful for God, who, though I fail to understand His ways more than ever, has proven Himself faithful and merciful to me, who deserves it least of all people.

Uh, yeah, you think????

We get a lot of people calling us looking for a lawyer who used to have this number several months ago. Today, the phone rings and my wife looks at the caller ID, seeing a number from Michigan. Intrigued, she picked up the phone.
MRS. I: Hello?
CALLER: Hi, is this "John Costello"?
MI: No, we've had his number for about 4 months now.
C: Oh. Well.... May I speak with the homeowner, then?
MI: This is a public housing unit.
C: (Offended) OH! Well then, I have the wrong number! (hangs up)

Gee, what gave you your first clue? I didn't know my wife (who has a mezzo soprano voice) sounded like Joe!

Microsoft Spell check, part II

So I'm performing a spell check of the post "This is just plain nuts," and I realize that apparently, everyone who worked on MS Windows Spell Check failed anatomy. The system doesn't recognize either "cranial" or "genitals." In fact, when the latter word came up, the suggestions given were:
gentiles
gentlest
gondolas

So, when somebody mentions someone who is uncircumcised, you'll now know why they're called gentiles!

This is just plain nuts

Disclaimer: pardon the pun.

From the AP comes yet another tale of dastardly deeds, morose mishaps and absurd awkwardness!

Police accidentally hit a naked man in the genitals with a Taser after he was caught breaking windows and asking women to touch him... (He) tried to run away when sheriff's deputies approached so one of them shot their Taser...
Said (Lee County) Cpl. Matt Chitwood, "The Taser is relatively accurate, but when someone is moving like that, it doesn't matter if you have a Taser, or a pistol. (Officers) can't aim."

Moral of the story: if you're ever caught running around naked by police, HOLD STILL!

Smelling clean without Febreeze

Today my travels took me past a car wash. As is the case with most establishments like that, there were heavy industrial vacuums outside the wash bays. What was surprising was the sign attached to the one vacuum.

"Vacuum Fragrance".

Hmm, I've always wondered what a vacuum smelled like!

...People always say to me I need to get a life, but I can't figure out why!

Life ain't nuttin' but a funny funny riddle!

I was forced to endure the torment of country music at work today on the radio. For whatever reason, the DJ decided to take an impromptu call from a listener. Bad call.
DJ: Thanks for calling "JR." Who's this?
CALLER: Hey, this is Jake. I got a riddle for ya.
DJ: (hesitantly) O --- kay, go ahead...
C: Ok, "I've got no brothers or sisters. I'm my father's son." Who is he talking about?
DJ: (great annoyance in voice) I have no idea.
C: Himself. He's looking in the mirror.
DJ: (quickly) Here's Toby Keith on "JR."

Obviously, wit is NOT the area of excellence for this caller!

WANTED: Effective pet birth control

A couple of summers ago, my family and I moved to Western NC. We lived in a little boon-dock community called Edneyville, which consisted of farms, houses and apartments, a convenient store and a Mexican grocery. THAT WAS IT. Being that there was very little to do there, life traveled a lot slower than it does in civilization. Some of the people themselves were a lot slower, too.
Case in point: one of our neighbors in our apartment "complex" was a good-ol' Southern redneck named Chad. He, his wife, daughter and a little Bichon named Chloe, lived across the hall from us. Chloe was free to roam the land. So was "Buster," a Chihuahua whose owner didn't give a darn 'bout nuthin.'
One day, Chloe and Buster got together and proved that neither they, nor their owners, had heeded Bob Barker's advise that he leaves at the end of every "Price Is Right." Yep, that's right, they were... Propagating. Well, Chad looks down from his balcony (we lived on the second floor) and sees "Action Jackson" violating his pooch. His response?
(Whiny, apathetic tone) "Chlooooo-eeee... Chloooo-ee. C'mere, Chloe."
Chloe was NOT interested in her master at this point, so Chad went down the stairs with a full pan of water. He got to within 3 feet of the immoral beasts and flung the water at them. Both Chloe and Buster, teeth bared, took a lunge at Chad, keeping in position all the while. Chad jumped back, then, with his hands in his pockets, watched the party continue, and then said in a resigned fashion, "Ohhhhh.... Thayut's not a good thang..."

Free to good home: Miniature mutts. Must be spayed or neutered. Whatever that means.

Psycho calling on line 2; psycho on line 2!

Deep from within the chasms of our past comes a woman who used to go to the same church as us named "Gladys." Gladys is... er, um... not stable. Hasn't been for years, but the past two years, the senility rate has dramatically increased. The last bout of warped thinking came as she attempted to call my father-in-law, "Mark Sr," and instead called my brother-in-law, "Jr." Though this isn't word-for-word (since I haven't tapped any phone lines lately) I do get the gist of the call from Mark Sr...
G: Hello, Mark Shmoo, Sr.?
M: No, this is Mark Jr.
G: No, you mean Mark Sr.!
M: No, I'm Mark Jr. You have the wrong Mark.
G: No, no. You go to the prayer meeting. You sing on the worship team.
M: Right, that's Mark Sr., but I'm Jr.!
(Conversation #1 ends. However, like a Ginsu knife commercial, "But wait! There's more!")
(Phone rings.)
M: Hello?
G: Yes, Mark Shmoo Sr.?
M: No, this is Jr. Again. You keep calling the wrong Mark Shmoo!
G: But I know you! This is Gladys from the prayer meeting!
M: Sorry, you want to speak to my father. This is the wrong number.
G: Well, I have to call everyone in the prayer meeting to tell them they have the wrong number for you!
(Conversation #2 mercifully comes to a close. But since we're apparently gluttons for punishment, Gladys decides to continue pursuing this "matter"...)
(Phone rings again.)
M: Yes???
G: You are Mark Shmoo Sr.! I called before!
M: Look, I told you already, I'm not the right Mark! You want to speak to my father!
G: Well, what's his number? You give me his number?
M: It's in the directory. You can look it up there.
G: (After a brief pause) Oooooohh, wait! I know who you are!!! You're "Greg" Shmoo! You married "Brianna!!!"

BTW, I'm "Greg" and Mark Jr. really is married to Brianna.

I smell cranial smoke! Hmm.. Smells like burnt bacon.

The brain you have dialed is no longer in service!

My wife checked the phone messages upon arriving home today. Pearle Vision, as they often had, called to tell Joe and Carla that their glasses were ready. Never mind my wife's name is NOT Carla... She called them back. Again.

MRS. I: This is not Joe and Carla's phone number.
PV: Oh. Well, this is the number we have for them.
MI: Yes, I know. However, we've had this number for over 4 months. Please take this number off your list.
PV: But he was just here, and he gave this number to me.
MI: Again, this is NOT their number. We'd appreciate it if you would stop calling here for them.
PV: But I don't understand. This is the number he gave me.
MI: This number is not theirs, OK!?
PV: I don't understand.

Operator? ...Operator?? Hel-loooooo?

"...PEOPLE with guns kill people!"

So, you're one of the good people of Williamsport, eh? Never mind you got a 9mm in one pocket and a bag of snow in the other. You're wearing one of those magical T-shirts!

Now that everyone in Williamsport's equipped with their (apparently) bullet-repellent T-shirts, Mayor Mary Wolf got to put her spin on the matter!
"[It's serving a purpose for the city.] He (T-shirt creator Stu Congdon) is probably doing us a favor because he's raising the awareness of all the good people we do have in this community."

Yeah, that alleviates all my doubts about whether "Billtown" is going to pot or not!!!

"GUNS don't kill people..."

The community of Williamsport, PA (pop. c. 30,000) has been ravaged as of late by drug activity and gun crimes. A half-dozen shootings have taken place within city limits in just a couple months. Mayor Mary Wolf attempted to calm the general populace with words of comfort, saying "the good people of Williamsport are safe." Playing off of those words, local business owner Stu Congdon created a T-shirt that's (pardon the pun) selling like gangbusters.

"DON'T SHOOT! I'm one of Williamsport's good people."

Yeah, that'll protect you. Great safety gear!!!

...To be continued...

Money for nothing and "Cats" for free

There's only one thing worse than a man who lacks common sense, and that's a man who is filthy rich, arrogant, and lacks common sense.
Moron-of-the-month, Steve West, apparently has turned down an interview op from NBC's "Today" show, because, according to wife Carolyn, NBC wouldn't guarantee (free) tickets to a Broadway show and accommodations at the "Plaza", the tab being picked up by NBC.

Apparently, $110 million is just not quite enough to cover the costs of life's luxuries. How unfair.

Meefph mumph mumphfln nrvff!

Fearless leader strikes again!!!
My supervisor "Jan" had to deal with some procedural issues before the start of the workday this past Friday, so she addressed the matters at hand, trying to be as nice as possible, while stressing the need to change some poor work habits. But no talk from Jan is complete without a butchering of the Queen's English!
"My attention is not to offend anybody, but... blah, blah, blah...."

Asinine evangelism

Opening disclaimer: this post is not at all funny. It's just plain pathetic and stupid.

This past week, the Dover (PA) Area School District board decided to recant its own vote from the previous year allowing the teaching of Intelligent Design as an alternative to evolution. Much of the decision was a reaction to much of the media and public backlash on whether I.D. violates the separation of church and state principle. Cue Mr. Political/Religious Expert, Pat Robertson, whose numerous verbal gaffes have become as well-known and irritating as (insert your most-hated polititian here).
Speaking on the "700 Club," Mr. Robertson (I hesitate to call him Reverend) scolded, "To the good people of Dover, I must say this. If some natural disaster should happen upon you, don't turn to God, because you have already rejected Him by removing Him from your schools."

First, this is NOT a religious issue, so I haven't the foggiest why people are making it out to be so. Second, MY Bible tells me that God is patient and long-suffering, for He wills that nobody should go to hell. Perhaps Patrick's reading a different Bible.

Closing disclaimer: I am in no way saying that anyone who teaches evolution is going to hell. Faith is faith, and science is science. It's painfully obvious that the hidden message in Mr. Robertson's discourse is that the Dover school board had blown it and no longer had any chance of "fellowship with God."

Blindness in a can

Today I purchased a can of TAG body spray because, well, never mind... I took notice of the warning notes, including the following flash of brilliance: "Avoid spraying in eyes."

The company slogan and website are rather appropriate: www.ConsiderYourselfWarned.com.

"It's neither here nor there."

People use this phrase to explain that a point once made is now moot. However, this brings up a huge issue, speaking from logical terms. I mean, if it's not here, and it's not there, then that means it's nowhere. But for something to be existent, in this case "it," then it has to be somewhere. Therefore, since it's nowhere, then it can't really be at all, thus denying "its" status of existence. So when you're saying "It's neither here nor there," what you're really saying is that nothing is nowhere-- an idyllic black hole, so to speak. Ah, but that's another issue. A black hole IS something, and it exists in a certain place...

Dizzying, isn't "it"???

Not the greatest self-image

Today I was shopping in the glamorous world of Walmart. I happened to pass by where the men's clothing accessories were located. Many styles of boxers were prominently hung on a rack. Of course, there was the usual "Hot stuff" and "Don't Open 'Til Christmas" slogans which are quite popular, but what really caught my eye was a pair featuring a trademark black-and-white swirl with HUGE block letters printed across the front.

"THE TWILIGHT ZONE."

Now, I would think that if you wanted to make an effective impression on your wife, girlfriend or significant other, that this is probably not the best way to do it.

Kids aren't that dumb

An annual event in my neck of the woods is an annual Christmas parade, which always takes place in early November. (Figure that one out. Here's a hint: the main sponsor is a rich department-store owner/tycoon.) I heard an ad on the radio for it at work, and, while not word-for-word, this was the gist of it...
"The Scranton area Jaycees proudly present the annual Santa Parade! It'll be fun for the whole family, featuring face-painting, 10 full-size parade balloons, local and regional marching bands, blah blah blah, and of course, Santa will be there! US Postal Service carriers will be collecting letters for Santa along the parade route!"

"Hey, Mommy. If Santa's here, why do I have to give my letter to one of these psychos? Can't I just hand it to Santa?"

Good luck explaining that one, parents.

Award-winning doofus

On "60 Minutes," CBS's news magazine program, publicly-acclaimed editorialist (Is that a word?) Andy Rooney recently went on one of his patented rants, this time about all the different types of milk products that are available for consumers to choose from.
"Here's one: Soy milk. ...I don't even want to know what's in this."

Um, soy, Andy. SOY.

And now it's time for... MORONS WITH MONEY!

...Our contestant today is Mr. Steve West from Jacksonville, OR! Mr. West, tell us a little about yourself...
"[Well,] I wanted to remain the same person and pretty much keep the same lifestyle that I had, but I've been told by everybody that it's going to change immensely."
Aaahhhh, yyyeah.... Now then, Mr. West, all you have to do to get the big somolians is to give me $40 for this golden ticket!
"I'm not sure I like that. My wife and I keep saying maybe we shouldn't have bought that."
Well, if you insist, Mr. West, then I'm sorry to tell you that you lose the game.
"[My wife and I] said, 'This can't be right, something's not right' and that's all we said all night."
Yes, that's precisely the point, Steve.
Oh, by the way, what do you think? Does this ticket originate from Ray's Food Place or J'ville Tavern?
"I'm not saying."
Mr. West, you do realize that the store with the winning ticket receives a $100,000 bonus, don't you?"
"I'm not saying."
Very well, I give up. You can have the money. All you need to do is tell me if you want the entire $340 million over a 30 year annuity at a tax rate of approximately 25%, or in a single lump sum of $185 million taxed at 38%?
"We'll take the lump sum."
CONGRATULATIONS, STEVE WEST! YOU ARE A MORON WITH MONEY!!!

What was this all about?

On DeliciousAudio.com, several unusual audio clips are offered for your listening pleasure. Amongst the choices was the king of psycho-babble, Dr. Phil, spouting the following:
"You know what? This is crap. We're gonna stop this. We're just gonna stop this."

I can only hope you're talking about your show, Philip.

Wheel of misfortune

It's almost hilarious sometimes what contestants on W.O.F. blurt out when their brain doesn't accompany them on stage.
THING: RECI_E F_R SUCC_S_
"Recite for success."

Sounds like a new self-help program!

Oblivious, I mean, obvious marketing

D'ja ever notice whenever an ad comes on for a new movie coming out on video/disc, the voice-over always says, "Buy it now wherever videos and DVD's are sold."

Aw, I was kinda hoping I could pick it up at the local Exxon!

The 100th post, featuring a bad slogan

"The Weather Channel. Bringing weather to life."

Yes, we all remember what life was like before we had weather!

You can do it, we can help. Or not.

Under stories that make you say, "No No No No NO," an AP story tells the tale of a trip to the bathroom gone bad.

Hardware retailer Home Depot has found itself in a sticky situation, (nice pun) defending a lawsuit filed by a man who claims the chain's Louisville store ignored his cries for help after he fell victim to a prank and was glued to a toilet seat.
Bob Dougherty, 57... became stuck to a bathroom toilet seat on which someone had smeared glue... and felt "tremendous panic" when he realized he was stuck.
"...They just let me rot."
[He] was recovering from heart bypass surgery at the time and thought he was having a heart attack...
The lawsuit said after about 15 minutes, store officials called for an ambulance. Paramedics unbolted the toilet seat, and while wheeling a "frightened and humiliated" Dougherty out of the store, he passed out.
"This is not Home Depot's fault," he said. "But I am blaming them for letting me hang in there and just ignoring me."

True, it was a horrible situation, but do you need to frighten and humiliate US by talking about things hanging in the bathroom?

"You know what they say..."

No, I don't! And who exactly are "they," anyway? Furthermore, why do they always have so much to say, and if what they say is so important, then why doesn't anybody seem to know WHO THE HECK SAID ALL THAT STUFF?!?

They always said I'd go stark raving mad someday...

Joe Dung, MD

Today my 20-month-old gashed his head open (He's OK now.) At the ER, my wife encountered the doctor on duty, whom I have had the "pleasure" to be treated by. This dude is fascinated in prostrates, rectums, bowels, etc... But I digress.
My wife was very concerned about scarring as the hospital staff worked to patch up a nasty gash on my son's forehead. Not to worry, pipes up Dr. Anal!
"The face is very forgiving. You could poop on the face and it wouldn't matter. Really! You could!"

Not the most reassuring thing a parent could hear about their wounded child.

More morphine, nurse?

Our youngest is having same-day surgery this weekend. He was supposed to have this done about a month ago, but had gotten pretty sick, so we had to reschedule. Today the hospital scheduler called. Send in the clowns!!!
"...I'm confirming your son's surgery for this Friday. ...Did he have surgery last month?"
"No, he was sick so we rescheduled."
"So this is the same surgery?"
"Yes."
"So he didn't already have this procedure done?"

*Having aneurysm #1.*

"Have you confirmed this with the surgeon?"
"Yes."
"Does your son need any bloodwork?"
"No."
"OK, so I'll call the doctor to confirm and to see if any bloodwork is needed."

*aneurysm #2!*

"Do you have an anethesiologist questionnaire?"
"Yes."
"YOU DO????"
"Yes."
"Are you sure???"
"Yes, it's on my refrigerator."
"You need to bring that back."
"Yes, I'm going to on the day of surgery."
"Yeah, you need to bring that back."

Brains all over the floor! Thank GOD this isn't the surgeon!

A.D.D.???

I promised I'd never blog about something a family member said, but this just takes the cake!
I came home from work today, and had been in the door about 3 minutes when my 5-year-old son looked at me and asked, "Daddy, did you come home?"

Oy ve.

And the STUPIE goes to...

Congrats go to America's weatherman, WNEP-16's Tom Clark, on his mindless utterance of complete ineptitude on Sept. 23!

Tonight, he (Tom) was in the process of announcing the local next-day outlook, and the graphic came up spelled "Partly Coudy." So he acknowledged the error with the following comment:
"That's supposed to read 'cloudy.' My computer left out the 'W'."

I have called the station's "Talkback" line to notify the winner.
Thanks for your votes! We'll do it again soon!

Could I please see that in writing?

On the NBC news tonight, they reported the story of the New Orleans Saints football team. Due to severe damage to their home stadium, the Superdome, the Saints have played home games in New York, San Antonio, TX, and Baton Rouge, LA. Speculation exists that they may attempt to permanently relocate to Los Angeles. Cue the dense fan!
"Yes, the Saints belong in L.A., but they belong in the right L.A.-- New Orleans, L.A!"

Looks OK in print, but this was a spoken comment.

Mixed metaphors

As the workday began today, my supervisor "Jan" went on a ranting, incoherent tirade about everyone working right up to 3:25, leaving only 5 minutes to clean up and wrap up loose ends. After all, according to her, "It's only fair, because some of you are standing around 10 minutes waiting for the bell to ring, you know, while others are running around finishing their work. You know, it's only fair to all."
(I think that she then wanted to say "What's good for the goose is good for the gander," but instead, a sudden fit of cranial rectosis set in. Open mouth, insert foot!)
"...You know, if the shoe fits, then put it on, but if it doesn't, then throw it in the garbage, you know?"

...Must... not... laugh... in Jan's... face.... Must... master... emotions... Can't... help it-- WAAAH-HAH-HAHA-HAH-HUH-HA!

Bart cain't count, neither

(INTERJECTION #1: "Bart" is a diehard redneck. Not a cowboy. Not a wrangler. A certunfied, blue-blooded good-ol' REDNECK.)
Near the end of my work-day, Bart came back to where I was working, and notified me that my boss "Jan" wanted to move me to a different department for the rest of the day. He said, "I think we're OK. We're like 20 orders ahead of the pickers."
(INTERJECTION #2: Our orders are numbered by 10's and end in the digit "1.")
I said, "Actually, we're 12 ahead. I just checked 5 minutes ago."
"Naw, we've got to be more than that. They're doing order #3971."
"Right," I noted, "And I'm working on #4091."
"We're farther ahead than that!" he defied.
I showed Bart the order I was doing.
"I must have miscounted where the pickers were at," he muttered.
...Moments later, I was working in the picking department, and Bart sauntered up.
"Yeah, see? We're farther ahead than 12. Look at all the orders on the shelf!"
"Yes," I informed him, "And half of them are ahead of where we're at!"
"No it isn't," he contradicted, and started counting the orders.
"Why are you counting that wave?" I mused.
"Because it's #4251!"
"Right," I countered,"And you're on #4091! You can't count a wave that we haven't gotten to yet!" I placed my hand on the shelf where #4091 was. "You only count the orders that precede that number! See, 1,2,3...12!"
Bart vacantly stared, (I've seen that look on his face before! When was that? Oh, yeah, the hat!) turned, and bumbled away, muttering, "I KNOW we're farther ahead than that."

This is the man who once claimed that he didn't need a college education, because he was so knowledgeable!

Bart's got his beer goggles on

At work today, "Bart" and I got ready to begin our duties. Suddenly, he noticed a someone's hat (part of our uniform) on top of a rack of garments.
"Did you leave your hat here last night?" he asked me.
(Mind you, I'm wearing my hat.) "No," I replied.
"You sure?" he inquired, looking at me with a confused look.
I tipped my hat, and assured him, "Yeah, I'm sure."
Bart's cognitive faculties were still not functioning. "You sure that's not your hat?"
I deliberately waved my hat and said, "Yes, I'm pretty sure, since I've got my hat on!"
Still not completely convinced, Bart blankly stared at me for a moment, then gazed back at the other cap and said, "Oh. It's just that this one looks a lot like yours."
A UNIFORM hat.

Mind you, mentally speaking, Bart's not the most sure-footed of steeds in the pasture.

Could this win a future STUPIE? Don't forget to vote for your nominee posted on 10/17! The winner will be announced shortly!

Crime doesn't pay

About a year ago, a high-profile murder suspect, Hugo Selinski, and an accomplice, Tim Bolton, escaped from the Luzerne County (PA) correctional facility but climbing out a 7th story window with bedsheets. First problem was, the bed sheets were only 5 stories long, and being that Tim had gone first, he got pushed off the end by Hugo, crashed onto an expanded roof landing, and became Hugo's personal pillow. Hugo was on the lam for 3 days and recaptured; Tim suffered spinal cord injuries in the fall and is now confined to a wheelchair.
Well, you know it's always somebody else's fault, so Tim has filed suit against Luzerne County and several prison guards, claiming, "If security would have been tighter, I wouldn't have been able to escape."

(Quoted County Commissioner Greg Skrepenak, "He serves as a human mattress for Hugo, and we're the ones who are to blame for it?")

When they operated on his spine, the doctors should have also performed a brain implantation.

A little privacy, please! Thanks???

My old bud, Pat, amongst his many strange travels, encountered the following sign posted on the bathroom door at a convenience store:
"Lock doesn't work. Ask store manager for key."

And the key does...what?

An appointment nowhere

One of my co-workers made it a HUGE point to announce that she was leaving early to go to her new doctor. Only one tiny little detail was overlooked....
"I don't know where his office is."

...But I'm going anyway!

Hasn't grabbed the concept

My wife recently attended a homeschool conference. (My wife is an excellent certified teacher, BTW!) Many at the conference were inquiring about how to homeschool; they had not yet ever done it. One particular discussion covered how to write effective lesson plans. A potential rookie teacher asked, "When your child recites something, does it have to be orally?"

Dr. Webster? ...Calling Dr. Webster!

No, good readers, most homeschool parents aren't this clueless! Honestly!

The STUPIE needs your vote, and every vote counts! Check out the nominees posted on 10/17...

"Dumb and Richer"

So I'm reading the story of Steve West from Medford, OR, the purported winner (singular) of the $340M Powerball jackpot. He waited 3 whole days before contacting a local TV station to claim he has the winning numbers. He, and apparently, some of his relatives, bought $40 worth of tickets to play. Several aspects of this story just don't add up. I don't mean I think the guy is lying; just that some of this is completely devoid of rationalism... For instance:
"We didn't watch the Powerball drawing."
Then why did you shell out $40???

"We got a call from other family members saying, 'I can't believe it, some of these numbers are matching.' And then she (a relative) started saying, 'All these numbers are matching.' And we thought, 'Wow.'"
What, was this a conference call? And if you didn't watch the drawing, instead getting the winning numbers from powerball.com, were you all logged onto your PC's at the same time, while you were on said call?

"I'm told by everybody that this is a life-changing situation, and I didn't plan on wanting to change that much."
Nah. Gobs and gobs of money will never change your life, so why plan to want to change?
Wait... PLAN to WANT?

"Of course, everybody dreams of winning the lottery, but I've never really made plans of what I would buy, because it never went that in-depth."
Hey honey, I hope we win $340M, not so we can buy stuff; just so we can have the money lying around.

I have an idea, Steve. Why don't you buy yourself a trip to see the Wizard of Oz? Maybe he'll give you a brain.

Maybe one of these comments will win a future STUPIE. Nominees for the first award is posted on 10/17. Please vote!

No dying zone

The following are excerpts from a Reuters news story entitled, "Dead Man Gets Parking Ticket."

Australian authorities have apologized to the family of an elderly man who was given a parking ticket while he lay dead in his car in a suburban shopping center.
The 71-year-old man... went missing nine days ago and his body was found in his car in a shopping mall car park...
A parking ticket had been placed on the car the day before his body was found.
...Local mayor Denham told Australian Broadcasting Corp. radio on Friday, "The circumstances surrounding the location of this poor fellow must make it all the harder for the family. It is simply a case of the parking officer not noticing."

Not noticing??? Who was the parking officer, Charles Stevenson?
(Don't get it? see the other post from today.)

Have you voted for your choice to win the STUPIE award? View the nominees on 10/17's post...

Pledge drive gaffe #2

As the pledge drive continues for local public radio station WVIA, the 2 emcees continue to demonstrate that the arts do not necessarily stimulate the mind. Case in point: Jim ("I wish we had problems like that here..."--Awkward segue, 10/19) is talking about how much he enjoys the program "All That Jazz" which is hosted by George, the other emcee...
JIM: Where else can you hear such great jazz artists like... Ray Stevenson?
GEORGE: Ray who?
JIM: Ray Stevenson!
GEORGE: WHO??
JIM: The blind guy who plays the piano!
GEORGE, firmly: "Charles."
JIM, without even a momentary pause: Ah, yes, Charles Stevenson.

Thinking, thy name is "muddled."

Time is running out to vote for your fave to receive the STUPIE award! Nominations are posted on 10/17... Join the fun and participate!

"Entitled to his entitlements"

For today's stupidity fix, you'll have to go to sierra's post-- dated October 20-- on www.cloudofidiotgas.blogspot.com.
This was an absolutely beautiful (from a humor standpoint) story, and I couldn't possibly tell it any better! I especially loved the Red Foreman outtake!
BTW, thanks, sierra, for the creds! Now you know that it doesn't make any difference whether it's American politics or Canadian politics. Bottom line: politics is a boiling-over cauldron of sheer stupidity!

Don't forget to vote for your fave for winner of the first STUPIE award! Nominees are on the post dated 10/17.

Extremely awkward segue

Our local public radio station is having a pledge drive in an all-too-regular attempt to solicit funds for programming support. Often, the emcee(s) paint a doom-and-gloom scenario about how so many programs that they feature are at risk of being cut because there's not enough cash to continue airing them. Today, the first emcee was talking to the second about how much one can learn from National Public Radio...
"You know what I learned from NPR today? I found out that "Wilma" is the last named hurricane this year, and if there are any other tropical storms, they'll have to start using letters from the Greek alphabet."
Emcee #2 blurts out, "Yes, that's true. I wish we had problems like that here at WVIA..."

"I cant, I can't think anymore; it hurts!" --Uncle Billy Bailey on "It's A Wonderful Life"

Don't forget to cast your vote for the winner of the first STUPIE award! The list of nominees are posted on 10/17...

ANNOUNCING THE FIRST "STUPIE" AWARD!

Upon my 100th post, or the end of this month (whichever comes first) I will be handing out the first STUPIE award to the most inane thing spoken amongst the many listed on this blog. I have selected a few nominations. I am requesting input from you, my good friends and readers. Simply post a comment on any post from here on out, choosing your fave to receive the STUPIE!
(Winners will receive a cassette tape of a looped recording of Nelson from the Simpsons saying, "Ha- ha!" Emblazoned on the j-card will be the inscription "People Say Stupid Things." thanks to my official Sharpie pen.)

The nominees for the first-ever STUPIE are, in no particular order...
"Philadelphia's a lot closer to PA than NJ is." --Stop at the Exxon, 8/31
"..Since you've accepted [the gospel tract], now you have to read it or you WILL go to hell." --blitzkrieg Evangelism, 10/4
"That [graphic] should read 'cloudy.' My computer left off the 'W.'" --Hukt on foniks, 9/23
"[Bart's] in the bathroom." "What's he doing?" --Requesting too much information, 10/17
"What's the number for the operator?" --Can you say... Duuuuuuh?, 8/18
"You're pregnant? Really? But you weren't last year!" --Eternal fetal syndrome, 9/10

Thanks for participating and voting for the STUPIE!

Spell check

As usual, after typing out my last post (just minutes ago!) I did a spell-check. The system got to the word "cranial" and obviously didn't recognize it, because it gave me suggestions for replacing the word. The first three choices were:
"granola"
"caramel"
"granule"

I guess Mr. Gates and the MS staff were really hungry when they wrote the Windows XP system!

Requesting too much information!

Sad but true, the cloud of idiot gas (apologies to sierra) has enveloped the cranial space of my plant manager.
He came back to my department and asked Al, "Hey, where's Bart at?"
"He went to the bathroom."
The PM followed up with, "What's he doing?"

Why don't you go into the men's room and ask him???

*All names of my workers changed to protect the harmless, useless, mindless and the otherwise less

Thanks for nothing

OK, confession time. We had a problem with a late payment to our credit card at "company X." We received an automated message from them instructing us to call a toll-free number and enter a personal access code to retrieve a message from our creditors. When my wife did that, It gave her options to rectify the late-payment situation. The automated service instructed, "To pay electronically, please press '1.' To pay online, please press '2.' To sent a check via mail, OR if you have already sent a check in the mail, please press '3.'"
Since we had sent out a payment (albeit late), my wife pressed "3" and received the following contradiction.
"This is not an option. Please choose option 1 or option 2!"

NOT receiving a customer service award this year is company X!!!

A little late for that

Sadly, the war in Iraq has claimed the lives of a couple of local men. The local high school has a large marquee sign that posts a nice thought, but unfortunately, whoever placed the message there used the wrong words.
"Bless those who gave their lives for the cause of freedom."

Now, for my correct interpretation, to which I wholeheartedly agree: "We are blessed by those who give their lives for the cause of freedom."

May God grant comfort to the families of those brave men.

Did I really say that?

AAAGH! The stupidity bug bit me!

I was in the process of cleaning up a disaster area in the living room after my 20-month-old tornado went through, creating mayhem wherever he went. As I was picking up numerous toys and what-nots, I felt something had been stuffed under the area rug. As I picked up the one end, my wife asked me, "What did you find?"
I mindlessly, blathered, "Number 2!"

It was a foam manipulative digit.

What made it even more hilarious for my wife is that my son had just finished playing with the diaper wipes container!

Oh, is THAT all?

I started my second job today, and the guy training me told me about all the college football games he bet on yesterday. He stops, and thoughtfully calculates, "Hey, that's not bad! All those games, and I'm only $340 down!"

Hey, next time, instead of blowing your cash on a bookie, give it to me instead. I'll do something worthwhile with it!

Another stupid question

As was established in my posting "Dark side of the moon," my supervisor isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. One thing that illustrates that clearly is her annoying habit of coming up to me, watching what I'm doing for about 30 seconds, and then prattling off, "What are you working on right now?"

Well, "Jan," I'm writing the sequel to the Magna Carta while solving Africa's famine problems and singing "Rocky Mountain High" in three keys simultaneously. What are YOU working on?

Truth in advertising

My friend Pat told me this story of an eating experience he had in a nearby city. (Pat, you've gotta start blogging again, dude!)
He sees a sign that reads, "ALL YOU CAN EAT: $1.99." So he thinks, OK, sounds good! He goes in, pays the two bucks, and sits down, eagerly anticipating a great meal. The waitress brings out a platter with 2 eggs and hash browns on it.
Puzzled, Pat reminds the server, "Um, I paid $1.99 to get the all-you-can-eat deal."
Without batting an eyelash, the waitress states, "That IS all you can eat for a buck 99!"

What a bargain!

Welcome, needy people!

It's not uncommon to enter a town and see a sign with the town's name and a brief slogan, like "PODUNK: A nice place to live." Apparently, some municipalities haven't got the catchphrase thing down too well yet.
I recently passed a sign for a local town which read, "MAYFIELD. Help us to help you."

Translation: "MAYFIELD: a co-dependent community."

And for you grammar experts out there, we briefly dwelled in a lazy little town called Edneyville, NC. On the back side of the sign (the side you'd see if you were leaving) it read, "Ya'll come back!"

Um, it's YOU ALL. Not YA WILL.