Category Archives: Humor

Pink Ping Pong Balls and…Survival!

There are times that you tend to remember far better than you ever thought you could.  For me, this was one of those times and I would love to share it with you.

It was hot, blazing hot, and our packs weighed heavy on our backs.  We had been out in the wilderness for seven days, with nothing but what we had taken with in the backpacks.  No buildings, no toilets, no chicks…it had been a long time since any form of civilization.

But today was the final day!  After this we would be back, basking in the glory of fast, greasy food, luxuriously cushioned seats, and schoolwork!  (Okay, some things we weren’t looking forward to.)dsc_1105

But that was still five miles away.  We had been hiking since 5:00am, and had traversed eleven miles already.  The camp was barely in sight, but we still had five miles to go!  It was starting to drive some of us slightly berserk.

“Stop it!” Dale yelled at me.

“Stop what?”

“Breathing!  Cut it out, will ya!”

As confused as I was why he would turn on me when his own breathing was horrendous, (gasping in, then gasping out, heaving with each breath, not to mention the slobber drooling from his cracked lips) I cordially ceased inhaling.  Shortly after, I passed out.

I woke up with the hope that my buddies would have carried me the rest of the way, but did they?  No.  Instead they thought it would be a good idea to slap my face until I woke up.  Selfish imps.

“I can see that things are starting to deteriorate,” Bryon said, as he continue to slap my face giddily, despite my cries of “I’m awake!” and “You’re dead to me!”

“Let me tell you all a story,” he said as I leaped to my feet, helped by my friend Dale. “It’ll help pass the time.”

A sour feeling, almost a premonition, passed over me.  I knew I should have said something, but unfortunately all my doubts about Bryon’s stories had been lulled in the back of my mind by all his other bad decisions over the last several days.  (The following story is that tale, shortened, censored, and made comprehensible by yours truly.)

“Once there was a boy whose parents loved him very much.  Maybe.  Okay, at least a little.  Maybe more than a little…”

“Get on with it!”

“…and he didn’t say a word to his parents until his seventh birthday.  On that day, he asked for a pink ping pong ball.  His parents didn’t know why, but it seemed to make him happy, so they did.”

“After that he didn’t say another word for five years, until his twelfth birthday, when he asked for a case of pink ping pong balls.  His parents didn’t know why they shouldn’t, since he had been so good, so they got the balls for him.  As soon as he got them, he mailed them off to somewhere, but his parents couldn’t find out where.”

“This went on for years, and he’d always ask for more pink ping pong balls, then he’d ship them off.  His parents asked, pleaded and begged him to tell them where, but it was no use.”

“Finally, on his twenty-first birthday, he asked for a ping pong ball factory.  Because he hadn’t shown interest in anything else throughout his life, his parents took out a mortgage on their house and bought him one.  All day, every day, he would sit in the factory, making thousands and thousands of pink ping pong balls, and then he would send them off by the shipload to somewhere.”

“At last, when he had turned fifty, there was an explosion at the factory.  His parents heard it from their house and ran as fast as they could towards it.  When they arrived, pink plastic was everywhere.  Their son was lying on his back, his arm burned by the hot plastic, and his legs blown off by the explosion.”

“Weakly, he motioned for his parents to kneel down by him.  As they did so he gasped, ‘The ping pong balls…the pink ping pong balls.  I sent them to…Blah!’  And he died.”

Eagerly, we waited for the punchline.  Confused, Bryon looked at us saying, “That’s it.”

We could have strangled him. That story had no purpose, no reason for existing and had  wasted 30 min of our lives! It kind of reminds me of this post.

But Bryon’s story did pass the time, because we were almost back to civilization and bison burgers!  And that is the only reason he is still alive today. (See why it’s a story of survival? Sideways, winky face!)

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But Pity the Geek Who Falls: Part 3

(The following is the third and final part of a treatise on two semi-not-so-secret societies. Read at your own risk.)

Another point of controversy between these two factions is the types of jobs that they will possess as adults.  Since most people regard nerds and geeks as being practically the same thing, they would think that their jobs would be very similar.  Thankfully, they are not the ones writing the comparison essay, otherwise you would learn nothing at all.  Living theirs lives in practical seclusion, both of these species spend their entire childhood without being exposed to the various type of jobs in the world.  The main difference arises when the nerds, at the age of either fourteen or eight, decide to educate themselves about what they would like to do as adults, while geeks are just playing games on their Xbox. 

By the time that nerds start on their journey of having jobs, they have already been preparing for it for quite a long time, while the surprise of being thrust into the industrial world, usually stuns geeks for a few weeks before they are able to function properly again.  An additional aspect is that, for the most part, nerds tend to grow out of their own nerdiness  and become sometimes even slightly (well, almost) valuable citizens, but geeks tend to remain creepy geeks their entire lives. 

Because of this, you will find many more people with nerdiness in their background in the higher class jobs than geeks, considering most geeks tend to remain the creepy old janitor in the science building.  After all, who in their right mind would rather hire a creepy geek over a dashing nerd.

By using the methods of telling them apart, the ways girls treat them, and the jobs they possess is it quite easy to examine the ways in which the two societies of nerds and geeks are alike and unlike.  (It is also obvious that nerds live far better lives.)  However, it could also be said that nerds could not exist without geeks, and likewise for the geeks living without nerds. 

If there were no janitors, there would be no dashingly handsome scientists, and if there were no single society that girls could always  refuse to dance with, they would refuse to dance with anyone. Furthermore, if there were no weirdoes showing up in sci-fi costumes at conventions, it could be argued that the Star Wars movies would never have been made. 

Again, from the nerds point of view, if there were no dashingly handsome scientists making messes everywhere, there would be no need of janitors, and if there were no group that girls could use to regard themselves as having done their good deed for the day, they wouldn’t be able to chew up and spit out geeks as thoroughly as they do. 

It can clearly be seen that these two great societies would not exist without each other.  In light of that fact, a wise man once wrote, “If a nerd falls down, a geek may help him up, but pity the geek who falls and has no nerd to help him up.”

But Pity the Geek Who Falls: Part 2

(The following is the second part of a three part treatise on two semi-not-so-secret societies. Read at you own risk.)

In the same way, another comparison that might be drawn between nerds and geeks is the way that girls react to them.  While this might not seem an appropriate criteria, the study of this topic can prove minimally enlightening, making it far more worthwhile to the reader than say, listening to a political speech. 

Believing that nerds and geeks are both separate species altogether, (a belief held by many others within the higher authorities), females have consistently taken to seemingly unfathomable endeavors in order to avoid both of them, although even their methods can’t rid them completely of their presence. (Well, there was this one girl that blew up a nerd’s building complex, but let’s not talk about her.) 

When the occasion arises that a female happens to collide with one of the representatives of either of those kingdoms, her reactions may be foretold if one is aware whether the guy is a nerd or a geeks.  (There has been discussion on whether females are a separate species altogether, but let’s not talk about that either.) 

For example, when a nerd, who is at, say, a barn dance, goes up to a girl and asks her to dance, even if that girl is not known for kindness, there is an exceedingly small chance that she will refuse him, although when a geek tries the same thing, he will be chewed up and spat out. 

Why the difference?  Generally, nerds are known for being nice guys who just don’t fit in, so out of pity, (nothing else, believe me) the girl will accept, but as everyone knows geeks are creepy.  So while the feminine mind views each them with approximately the same amount of disgust, nerds do get the best of it in the end.

But Pity the Geek Who Falls: Part 1

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(The following is the first of a three part treatise on two semi-not-so-secret societies. Read at your own risk!)

For millennia two forces have always existed, shifting the path of history in numerous ways, each of them believing themselves better than their rival.  These forces are: nerds and geeks.  Until almost twenty years ago, nerds were looked down upon in disgust, while geeks were plain creepy. 

But now, with the most recent revelations of the mystical conundrum called human fads, nerds are looked upon with awe, as they dashingly stride down the hall, waving to each person right before they walk into a wall and knock their glasses off, although geeks are still creepy.  The mysteries surrounding these two societies, no, these two races, have never and will never be fully understood, with the complexities of their similarities and differences being too numerous to unfold. 

However, there are certain things, such as the characteristics you can use to tell them apart, the ways girls react to them and the jobs they will have as adults, that are quite useful to know if you ever want to study nerdology or geekematics.  But in the end, in spite of the any differences they might have, they are still eternally entwined and reliant on each other.

Using superb methods of observation and deduction, it has been revealed that it is in fact possible to tell the difference between these two secret societies.  While both nerds and geeks practically always have pale skin (from staying indoors), generally geeks have a much more pastel skin tone from being isolated in a dark basement with only a hi-tech, customized computer, because once in a while nerds have to actually go outside, if only to rent another book from the library. 

Another way of tell them apart is by facial hair and handicap equipment.  Behind every smiling face that glistens with glasses and braces, you can be sure that a nerd lies hidden, while most people who look as if they haven’t shaved for several weeks and who are sporting cybernetic limbs are probably geeks. 

Finally, the ultimate way to tell nerds and geeks apart is by the way that the two different species express themselves. But wait, you say, how can you tell who is who by how they talk? IDIOT! I’m not referencing how they talk! Stop interrupting and let me finish!  Anyway, the final, diabolical way of telling the difference between the realms of nerdiness and geekdom is to go to a convention such as Comic-Con. 

At these places, nerds, who are always dressed up in fanatically fabulous fantasy costumes, do not hesitate in making their presence known, while geeks always wear sci-fi costumes.  All of these methods have been tried and tested and have proven reliable about fifty percent of the time in identifying nerds from geeks, proving that these methods are a valuable commodity out there in the wide world. 

Two Guys on a Porch

Sven Hurtsalot and I were sitting out on his front porch a few days ago.  We were sipping iced root beer, tanning our feet (real men do that, right) and swapping accurate retellings of the good old days.  That is if the good old days had existed in the first place.

“Once I kissed a lizard,” he said after a long lull in the conversation.

“No you didn’t,” I said.

“Yes I did.”

“No you didn’t, that was my grandmother,” I told him.

“Oh.”

It was at that point that the quality of the conversation began to diminish.  As I poured my sparkling sarsaparilla down my guzzle, an odd sensation began to grip the ends of my toes.

“I get the feeling that bare feet outside during the winter is a bad idea,” I remarked after trying to figure out what that sensation was.

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about, the bears seem to love their feet,” Sven responded, one of his toes falling off and rolling down the porch.

I took another gulp.  The wind howled by, even as huge icicles began forming on the edge of our chairs.  Clearly, the Jamaican weatherman had got the forecast wrong.  Or was that forecast for Jamaica?

At that moment, Sven’s phone rang.

“Hello,” he answered.  “Yes.  What?  No…it can’t be.  Your uncle?  His brother?  Her third cousin twice removed?  Where?  I will.  Don’t worry, it’ll only take a little bit.  You’re welcome.  Never call me again.”

“What was that about?” I asked as he hung up, flinging his phone into the yard some 4 feet away for some reason.  I could never understand his stupidity.  Now he would have to go buy a new phone.

“The pizza place just called to say that our pizza delivery guy had an accident on the highway.  He suggested we take a moment of silence.”

“That’s too bad,” I said, musing over the brevity of life.

“I know, I wanted that pizza,” Sven grumbled.

“Should we go inside yet?”

“Nah, the Jamaican weather guy said it’s eighty degrees out here, we’re fine.”

“If you say so,” I said, proving my own stupidity by hanging out with this guy in the first place.

The end.

The Kindly Old Maniac

I hate *cough* being sick, don’t you? So in lieu of illness, enjoy this masterpiece of long ago, an original creation which hopefully will get a few laughs.

The Kindly Old Maniacdetectiveprofile_Clip_Art

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(Curse you stupid numbers that won’t go away! Sorry, technical difficulties. Enjoy!)

Part 1

Throughout the entire city, icy winds were constantly and furiously blowing, making the entire population of Wichita, which included this illustrious private eye, basically miserable.  It was about ten o’clock in the morning and I was sitting in my chair behind my desk, relaxing with a cup of stale, green coffee and last week’s newspaper.

Tentatively, I raised the cup up to my lips, giving the coffee a once over to make sure that there were no living organisms squirming about in it.  With my secretary, you could never tell.  As I was about to gulp down that repulsive fluid, suddenly a knock at my door alerted me to the presence of someone outside of it.  I was about to shout for my secretary to come and open the door, when I remembered that she hadn’t come in today. Or yesterday. Or last month.  In fact she hadn’t been here in quite a long time. 

Musing over where my coffee had actually come from, I calmly strode over to the door in order to save my building from structural damage due to the fanatic’s excessive pounding.  When I graciously opened the door, a wild-eyed maniac, with a fierce look, came bounding through. 

“Are you the owner of this hole in the wall?” he asked, eying my office with disgust.

“No, I only rent it,” I replied nonchalantly, a slight regret that I couldn’t even afford to own a dump like this. 

“Whatever,” he continued, “In any case it doesn’t really matter.  I’m here with a proposal that could help make you filthy rich.”  Instantly, I smiled a bright, warm smile at this kindly old gentleman who had come into my office.  In my most benevolent voice, I held out my cup to him and offered, “Coffee?”

Part 2

Two hours later, I was relaxing in the sitting area at the hospital, waiting for him to finish having his stomach pumped.  Who knew that my coffee would have such an effect on him?  I shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if he had actually drank it.  Finally, my potential client was escorted out of the ER by a couple of doctors creepily dressed in long, white lab coats. 

Coughing as he walked over to me, the man eased himself into one of the stairs that stood by the wall, evidently joking around by pretending to be distressed upon seeing me.  “Well,” I said, “now that we got that out of our way, what was is you were going to offer me?”  He glanced up at me and gave a slight groan. 

After a few minutes he shook his head and mumbled, “I guess you’re all I got.  Nuts.  But anyway, you see there’s this big reward out on this one infamous criminal and I mean to collect, but I need someone with police contacts to help me out so that it’s all legal.  Believe me I would use the police, but as you know, they aren’t allowed to collect the reward.  So how about it? We’d have to go trudging through quite a bit of this mud and muck outside, but it’s a good profit at the end.” 

Throughout his entire presentation, I had assumed a look of eager expectation, but upon hearing that it would involve going outside for periods of time into this weather, and some actual work, I hastily assumed my that’s-interesting-but-not-for-me look. 

Once more, smiling benevolently, I turned to him and replied, “You know, that’s real interesting, but that’s not for me.  But say, if you ever need help getting rid of the cash once you’ve caught this criminal and collected the reward, be sure to look me up.”  I warmly shook his hand and strode out of the hospital, opened the door of my car and drove away.  For some reason, he came running after me for a little while, yelling and waving at me.  Being a nice guy, who was always friendly towards people even if they were a bit eccentric, I smiled and waved back.

Part 3

It was three o’clock in the afternoon on a particularly cold winter day and I was sitting at my desk, breathing in the musty air that permeated the surroundings.  Cautiously, I reclined back in my seat, remembering that I still had to have my chair fixed as soon as I could afford it.  On my desk sat this week’s newspaper, most of it still readable. 

As I picked it up, the headline, which seemed to be quite long, caught my attention.  It read, Hard working citizen catches hard faced criminal, even without help from outside source, collects huge reward.  Rather impressed that they were able to fit so many words into a single headline, I picked it up and started to read about how this one man had sought the help of a lazy, irresponsible private eye and then, after being rejected and staying in the hospital for two weeks because of pneumonia, which he had contracted from running home through the cold weather after having his stomach pumped at a hospital, had gone and heroically collected this criminal all by himself.

On the spur of the moment, I flipped through a couple of pages and came to a picture of the man himself.  Sitting there, looking smug was a picture of the very man who had tried to enlist my help three weeks earlier.  I sat back, digesting this piece of information, wondering how dumb that guy could have been, to walk home from the hospital out in this weather.  He could’ve just used the car that he had left here when I drove him to the…Oh.  That helped explain the screaming and waving. 

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10 Things That Bug Me

It is so very tempting for a blogger to pour out his complaints on the web, hoping that someone somewhere will empathize with him (preferably someone fabulously rich).  However, the point of this blog is not to voice grievances or wile any in worthless humor, but to give serious thought to serious subjects, helping to deepen the intellectual properties of all its readers.  NOT!

Enough chatter!  Some things in life I enjoy, some things I don’t.  Most things fall into the second category.  For a list of prime examples, I present this post for your enjoyment!

1: Small garbage cansindex

You all know exactly what I mean! Not only do you have to take the trash out sooner (as if the curse wasn’t close enough to us already), it’s practically impossible to make a basket with your trash.

“He shoots, and it’s off the rim!”

“Curse you small garbage cans!”

2: Fat free Ice Cream

It’s ice cream. You can’t take the cream out of ice cream.

3: Cold without snow.

Me: “Hey mom, it’s negative two outside, I’m going to jump off the roof into the snow!”

There was no snow.

Two months later, after finally getting all of my casts off: “I hate cold.”

4: Multicolored hairdos.

Me stopping a middle aged woman on the street: “Lady, I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got a creepy fungus that’s turning the end of your hair purple, and man, is it ugly!”

If you value your life as you know it, don’t say that to anyone. EVER!

5: Cracked open doors

How hard is it to close a door? You would think simple, right? NOT!!

6: Fat people eating greasy cheeseburgerscheeseburgercolor

If you’ve never seen a truly obese person eating a juicy cheeseburger, you might still have a chance at happiness. Otherwise, that horrifying, disgusting,  fascinating image will burn itself into your mind for all eternity!

7: Happy people

Those that think life can be joyful and filled with mirth.  Idiots.

8: Overachievers

Known affectionately in classrooms around the world as “the Nerd”. The ones who make your carefully crafted, hours in preparation, iguana presentation look like frog guts splattered over a dead log, when compared to their eighty foot tall robot lizard, leaving emotional scars that never truly…I’m sorry, *sniff*.  I think I need a moment.

9: Teenagers

I would elaborate, but frankly, it’s not worth it.

Let’s face it. It’s pretty obvious by now that what bugs me more than anything else is…

10: PIZZA WITH VEGGIES ON IT!13002986555192665581

IT’S A PIZZA! STOP TRYING TO MAKE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING IN THE WORLD HEALTHY! CAN’T YOU LET ME DIE OF CARDIAC ARREST IN PEACE!!!!

There.  Now you have seen past my brutish exterior and deep down into my soul.  Laugh at me if you may, scorn my deepest fears if you will, but at least remember that I was once like you.  Then I saw a happy, fat teenager eating a juicy veggie pizza while presenting an eighty foot tall lizard robot.  Welcome to my life.

College Students Are Stupid!

Let me just say that on the whole, college students in America must have collectively theuntitled lowest IQ possible in a living organism (and that includes ducks!) Now I’m not talking about Ivy League schools, but those cheap community colleges that accept you if you have a heartbeat, however faint, and a stench. For example, read some of these questions I have heard college students actually ask. And I kid you not…these really happened.

1: When was the war of 1812 fought?

2: The Mona Lisa was filmed in Vegas, right?

3: Did World War II happen before or after World War I?

4: Is Papa New Guinea on the right or left of Sweden?

5: It’s hard to believe that the Pilgrims lived without Facebook, but at least they had Twitter.

6: (With a dead serious face) “Hey guys! Two plus two equals four, right? But two times two also equals four! How is this possible?”

7: “In my history class they brought in a guy who said he was a veteran, but when I asked him how many animals he had saved, he just gave me a strange look. Some veteran.”

imagesF1IC6M94In addition to those intelligent sentences that now have you rubbing out your eyes, check out these Q&A’s that I’ve either seen or heard.

Question: Who freed the slaves?

College Student’s Answer: What slaves?

Question: Give the definition of ignorance.

CSA: If you tell me what it means, I could give you the definition.

Question: If today is the 26th of January, yesterday was?

CSA: Boring.

Question: What is the capital of the France.

CSA #1: The letter “F”.

CSA #2: Either Denmark or Louisiana.

Question: If a man on an airplane is traveling at 167 kph due south  from Chicago, and a woman is driving a speedboat up the Mississippi river at 80 mph, as well as a turtle on the freeway in Dallas doing six feet per hour, while at the same time children in Africa are starving, what color is the sky going to be?

CSA: …puppies! 🙂

Remember, these people breed…and vote!

The Adventures of Bob Dooshbagh, Private Eye

Ep. 1: Trouble in Marigold

It was about three o’clock in the afternoon on that fateful day of my career as a private eye.  I was sitting in my office in Wichita, having no case to work on at the moment, breathing in the musty air that permeated the surroundings and listening to the static of the radio and the sound of my secretary filing her nails.  I stood up and walked over to where the brown pot full of black coffee was standing.

After I poured myself a cup of the strong, stale stuff, which had a faintly green look about it, I raised it up to my mouth, feeling a burning sensation as the heat of the coffee and the occasional chunk of coffee beans tore down my throat.  Someone needed to teach my secretary how to make coffee.  It wouldn’t be so bad if she had other accomplishments, but as with many other ninety year olds, her skills were limited.

I was just running around to yell at my secretary when… Trouble came through the door.  Her eyes were like marigolds.  Perfume wafted up from her dress, as she stalked gracefully over to me and asked a me, in an melodious voice, a question that I will always remember…”This isn’t the ladies restroom, is it?”

Dazzled by the shimmer of her hair and the sparkle of her eyes, I thought about rejoining with a witty comment about chocolate frogs.  With this in mind, I calmly shook my head and jauntily mumbled, “Uhhhhnu”.  She appeared a bit startled at this ravenous display of eloquence, but she pulled herself together and graciously walked out the door and out of my life.  Still somewhat dazed, I sat down and took a sip of that wondrous coffee.  It’s always amazing what can happen in a period of about two minutes in the life of a private eye.

Disturbed: Chocolate Pizza and Christian Book Reviews

A friend of mine, Sven Hurtalots, and I were driving home from a church event when he said, “You know what this country needs; cheeseburger tacos.”country-road2560

Mind…blown. Frantically, I struggled to think of something that could possibly match the sheer brilliance just displayed by a definitely not-so-brilliant guy.

“Yeah, well, you know what else we need?” I asked.

“Chocolate pizza,” he said, unfazed.

Darn! He did it again! From a guy who’s based his life philosophy on the shapes of gum he finds under car seats, he came up with not one, but two genius ideas in one car ride! I had never been so outmatched.

Sweat began forming on my elbows, a hormone disorder I have never gotten used to. This was getting serious.

“What about Christian book reviews?” I blurted out.

books[1]Bingo. Once again I came from behind and felled my opponent. But seriously, has anyone else noticed the startling lack of Christian based book reviews? I know I have. As a youngster, I spent as much of my time as I could reading, no DEVOURING any and all books that came my way. Out of the Silent at five years old, The Lord of the Rings at eight, and far too many others to mention.

However, whenever I wanted to start a new book or series, my mother would always have to read through them for me. Considering that I read an estimated three thousand different books during my first ten years of life, imagine how much of her time was spent on that.

Why hasn’t there been a website devoted to Christian reviews of books before? We have PluggedIn (an excellent site, and no, I am not getting paid to say that) for movies and video games, not that reviews of either are hard to find, but none for books.

With this in mind, I am going to do my best to fill the vacancy via this blog. Having already a wide experience with reading thousands of mainstream books that youngsters will be wanting to read, I could pretty much tell you in person anything you might want to know, but since we can’t meet in person (alas, love lost before tis even found) this might be the next best thing.

Just to clarify, humor, life lessons and other things will still find they’re way here, so no need to worry about that, not that anyone was. However, in time, if traffic to this site picks up and most of that traffic seems centered on book reviews, I could see purposing the entire blog towards that one goal.

So go on, comment below and let me know what books you want to have reviewed. No guarantee on response time, but it should be less than two weeks (in the case I haven’t read it) and less than a week in the case that I have.