Airhead Humor

An airhead driving a car became lost in a snowstorm.  He remembered what his father had said: “If you ever get stuck in a snowstorm, just wait for a snow plow to come by and follow it.”

Sure enough, pretty soon a snow plow came by, and he followed it for about forty-five minutes.

Finally the driver of the truck got out and asked what was going on. The airhead explained what Dad said.

The driver nodded and said, “Well, I’m done with the Wal-Mart parking lot. Do you want to follow me over to Best Buy now?”

***

A woman rushes to see her doctor, looking very much worried and all strung out.

She rattles off, “Doctor, take a look at me. When I woke up this morning, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my hair all wiry and frazzled up, my skin was all wrinkled and pasty, my eyes were blood-shot and bugging out, and I had this corpse-like look on my face! What’s wrong with me, Doctor?”

The doctor looks her over for a couple of minutes, then calmly says,
“Well, I can tell you one thing . . . there’s nothing wrong with your eyesight!”

***

I got in trouble at a DUI roadblock.  I was too damned polite.  I asked the nice police officer if he would hold my beer while I fished out my licence and registration.

***

I just watched my dog chase his tail for ten minutes.  I thought, “Wow, dogs are easily entertained.”  Then I realized I just watched my dog chase his tail for ten minutes.

***

My Grandpa died peacefully.  He was a religious man and my good friend Michael inquired if I had found a Bible amongst his possessions.  I said that I had.  He asked me if I knew the publisher.  I told him that I thought it was Guten-something or other!

His eyes lit up and with a trembling voice he asked if it was Gutenberg?  I confirmed it was and he excitedly asked if he could see it, as it would be very valuable, because it was one of the first printed Bibles.  I told him I had given it to a charity shop and it would have been worthless as some smart-Alec named Martin Luther had written notes all over it!

***

A couple celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary which garnered a lot of attention from their community. In fact, a local news reporter showed up to the celebration and was surprised by how healthy and lively the 90-somethings were. After the couple finished dancing to swing music, the reporter started asking the husband questions.

When the reporter asked how the 97-year-old had maintained such good health, the husband smiled. “I give the credit to my wife,” he explained. “When we first got married, we agreed that whenever we argued, the loser would have to walk 2 miles – a mile away from the house and a mile back. I’ve been walking 2 miles a day almost every day for most of my married life.”

The reporter replied, “That’s amazing! But what about your wife? I understand she’s 92, and she’s in great shape too.”

“Well, you see,” began the husband, “she’s been following me that whole time to make sure I really finish those 2 miles.”

Wishing For One-Liners

What do you call those things you blow, and make a wish?….
….Oh yeah, breathalyzers.

I take my wife everywhere….
….but she always finds her way back.

I made a killing on Wall Street….
….I shot my broker.

My neighbors are a fastidious couple….
….She’s fast, and he’s hideous.

My Dad was the town drunk….
….Lots of times, that’s okay – but New York City?

My wife was in the beauty shop for two hours yesterday….
….That’s just for the estimate.

Not all men are homeless….
….but some are home less than others.

I complained to my psychiatrist that nobody listens to me….
….He said, “Next.”

When you breathe, you inspire….
….When you don’t breathe, you expire.

I joined an online dating service for arsonists….
….They send me 30 new matches every week.

When you mix quick-drying cement….
….there are many hard and fast rules.

I’m on the rotation diet….
….Every time I turn around I eat.

My date last night wanted to go someplace expensive….
….so I took her to a gas station.

I lost my job as a stencil maker this week…
…I guess I just wasn’t cut out for it.

Last week I got fired for eating chips on the job….
….now none of the other casinos will hire me either.

Monday morning, rolling out of bed is easy….
….Getting up off the floor is another matter.

The first thing I notice when someone approaches me….
….The audacity.

My grandma reached 100 today….
….That’s the last time I get in the car with her when she’s late for bingo.

The wife asked, “Is it just me, or is the cat getting fat?”….
….Apparently, “It’s just you.” was the wrong answer.

The first rule of The Condescending Club is really complex….
….I don’t think you’d understand it, even if I explained it to you.

I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I called you stupid….
….I thought you already knew.

I’m getting older, and I need glasses….
….glasses of beer – glasses of wine.

I do whatever the voices….
….in my wife’s head tell me to.

😳

Straight Line To One-Liners

I went line dancing last night….
….Okay – roadside sobriety test – same thing.

Have you ever noticed ‘The” and “IRS”….
….spells “Theirs”?

Patience….
….What you have when there are too many witnesses.

If my body is ever found on a jogging trail….
….just know that I was killed somewhere else, and my body dumped there.

Forget world peace….
….Visualize using your turn signal.

Gone are the days when girls cooked like their mothers….
….Now they drink like their fathers

Damn right I’m good in bed….
….I can stay there all day.

Old age is when you still believe….
….you’re going to feel better in the morning.

Instead of a sign that says Do Not Disturb….
….I need one that says Already Disturbed!  Proceed with caution.

The wife and I had words….
….I just didn’t get to use mine.

Funny!!?….
….I don’t remember being absent-minded.

Kids in the back seat cause accidents….
….Accidents in the back seat cause kids.

It was a whole lot easier to get older….
….than it was to get wiser.

It’s not hard to meet expenses….
….They’re everywhere!

I wish the buck really did stop here…..
….I could use a few of them.

Energiser bunny arrested….
….Charged with battery.

Early this morning, there was a tap on my door….
….My plumber has a strange sense of humor.

I just ate 12 pieces of KFC chicken….
…..It’s always been on my bucket list.

A shopkeeper told me to have a nice day….
….I didn’t – so I sued him.

The dumbest thing I ever did….
….was to become an adult.

I sympathize with batteries….
….I’m never included in anything, either.

All dogs are therapy dogs….
….The majority are just freelancing.

My wife’s not too smart.  I said, “Our kids are spoiled.”….
….She replied, “They all smell like that.”

Good Morning….
….I see the assassins have failed.

I took a urine test at the hospital today….
….My kleptomania is out of control.

If your outgo exceeds your income….
….then your upkeep will be your downfall.

A guy said to me, “Nothing rhymes with orange.”….
….I replied, “No it doesn’t.”

Did you hear the rumor about butter?….
….Never mind, I shouldn’t spread it.

’21 A To Z Challenge – A

April’s First Challenge Post – And So It Begins.

Here’s a word that dictionaries insist doesn’t exist – but really should.

ASSHOLERY

There’s something about the X-Y chromosome that fouls many males up.  They don’t know whether they’re coming or going, so it applies mostly to boys (of all ages), although some of the fairer sex qualify.

A nearby 19-year-old was caught doing 221 Kmh in a 100 Kmh zone.  He was late for a Darwin Awards presentation.  Daddy’s Lexus was impounded for a week, and the repair bill for an overstressed engine might be as much as the hefty fines and impound fees.

A local man went downtown, to deal with a department in City Hall.  When he came back out, he could not find his white Mercedes…. with his 4-year-old son in it.  😯  He called the police.  Within minutes – and a short walk – they located…. his wife’s red Jeep, and the child safe.  He has been charged, public intoxication, care and control of a vehicle while impaired, driving over .08 (local alcohol limit), and endangering a child.  His wife is gonna be thrilled!

A man in Toronto duplexed his house.  His upstairs tenant called 9-1-1 because a carbon monoxide detector kept squealing.  Three-tiered response – police, fire and EMT – discovered 100 pounds of carfentanil, 31 pistols and two “rifles”, although one of them was a Tech-9, like the one above.  More an overgrown handgun, than a real rifle.

If guys like this had any real brains, they’d have a real job.  If you’re gonna do something that creates carbon monoxide – stop doing it – ventilate the area – disconnect the detector!  Duh!!  🙄

Donald Trump still insists that he won the 2020 election.  Of course, he also insists that he has more Grammys than Beyoncé.  Women have to own some of this assholery, because far too many of them voted for Trump, and also for Canada’s wunderkind pretty-boy Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau.  They’re the answer to Kojak’s question, “Who loves ya, baby?”

Flash Fiction #216

It’s The Booze Talkin’

Thanx for driving me home, buddy. I appears to be a little tipsy.

Yer the designated driver, an’ I’m the designated drunk.

It’s déjà vu all over again.

Haven’t we been down this street before?

Did you know that a goldfish has a three second attention span?

Did I mention that it’s déjà vu all over again?

I was gonna go home, but I changed my mind an’ turned around ‘cuz I met Bruce Springsteen at the bar. He was walkin’ in, when I was walkin’ out.

Our Glory Days of boozin’ are over, ‘cuz it makes us talk stoopid.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Two Funny Bones

Speaking of which, did you hear about the guy who swallowed his Viagra too slowly?

He got a stiff neck!

What did the baby digital watch say to his mother analog watch?

Look Ma, no hands!

Poor Diet

A man visits his doctor with celery stalks stuck in both ears and a carrot stick up each nostril.  He mumbles, “Doc, I’m just not feeling well.”

The doctor replies, “Maybe you’re not eating right!”

Well, Honestly

A policeman pulls a driver over for swerving in and out of lanes on the highway.  He tells the guy to blow into the breathalyser.

“I can’t do that, officer, I’m an asthmatic, and I could have an asthma attack if I blow into that tube.”

“Okay, we’ll just get a urine sample down at the station.”

“Can’t do that either, officer.  I’m a diabetic. I could get low blood sugar if I pee in a cup.”

“Alright, we’ll just take a blood sample then.”

“Can’t do that either, officer.  I’m a hemophiliac.  If I give blood, I could bleed to death.”

“Fine then, just walk this white line.”

“Can’t do that either, officer.”

“Why not?!”

“Because I’m drunk!”

 

Old Age and Treachery will overcome Youth and Skill every time.

 

Poll Dancing

A young man was hired to make a door-to-door survey for the Vaseline Company.  He rang a bell, and announced his business to the lady of the house, who said she would be happy to answer any questions he had.

“Tell me,” he queried, “do you have any children?”

“Oh yes,” she replied, “I have five.”

“Fine,” he beamed, “and do you use Vaseline?”

“Often!” she stated.  “When one of the kids gets a cut, or a bruise, or a rash.”

“Wonderful,” the young man replied, “Do you ever use it for sexual purposes?”

“Very often.” she smiled.

“Ah….internally or externally?” he continued.

“Externally.” she replied.

“Could you tell me where you apply it?” he asked.

“To the outside of the bedroom door knob, to keep the kids from barging in!”

Gallic Logic

A rural Frenchman was on trial for killing his wife, for having an affair with a neighbor.  Upon being asked why he shot the wife instead of the lover, he replied, “Ah m’sieur, is it not better to shoot a woman once, than a different man every week?”

White Lady Special

One of those do-gooder, lady, settlement workers stopped a hard-looking youngster, and asked where his father was.

“Ain’t got no father.” the kid said.

“And your mother?”

“Ain’t got no mother.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.  When did she pass away?”

“I never had no mother.”

“Then how were you born?” the lady settlement worker asked in dulcet tones.

“Some bum played a dirty trick on my aunt!”

The Golfing Preacher

There was this preacher who was an avid golfer.  Every chance he could get, he could be found on the golf course, swinging away.  It was an obsession.

One Sunday was a picture-perfect day for golfing.  The sun was out, no clouds in the sky, and the temperature was just right.  The preacher was in a quandary as to what to do, and shortly the urge to play golf overcame him.

He called the assistant pastor and told him he was sick and could not do church.  Then he packed his car, and drove for two hours, to a golf course where no-one would recognize him.  He happily began to play the course.  An angel up above was watching the preacher, and was quite perturbed.  He went to The Lord, and said, “Look at the preacher.  He should be punished for what he is doing.”  The Lord nodded in agreement.

The preacher teed up on the first hole.  He swung at the ball, and it sailed effortlessly through the air, and landed on the green and rolled into the cup, three-hundred and fifty yards (meters) away.  A perfect hole-in-one!  He was amazed and excited.

The angel was a little shocked.  He turned to The Lord and said, “Begging Your pardon, but I thought you were going to punish him.”

The Lord smiled.  “Think about it – who can he tell?”

I’ll leave you with a little do-it-yourself humor.  “Michael Jackson!”  He’s the punch line to any joke.  Why did the chicken cross the road?  Michael Jackson!  How is Michael Jackson similar to a grocery bag?  They’re both made of plastic, and dangerous for children to play with.

 

Oktoberfest

Like so many other things these days, Oktoberfest has almost slipped past me.  I have nothing on it in my drafts file, so I guess I’d better get something electronic captured in this here computer thingy.

Since Canada’s weather turns cold sooner than the USA’s, we celebrate our Thanksgiving earlier.  Our turkey day will be this coming Monday.  Kitchener/K-W/Waterloo Region’s Oktoberfest always begins on the Friday before.  That way, after three days of binge drinking, you can be thankful that you’re still alive, and that the hangover headache is receding slightly.  We tap the first keg at Speaker’s Corner at noon on Friday, and throw out the first drunk by about one.

Corporate taxes weren’t enough to provide infrastructure funding, so, because of the strong local Germanic heritage, in 1969 it was decided to imitate the tourist draws of places like Niagara Falls, and hold an Oktoberfest.  There were five German clubs initially, all in Kitchener.  Now there are fest-halls in school auditoriums and Catholic Church basements for fifteen miles.  The Germanic influence is fading.  One of the original German clubs recently closed for lack of new members, and another is struggling.

The original Bavarian Oktoberfest was held for five days, starting October 17.  Nowadays the Germans can’t wait to get at their beer.  Their two-week contribution to Alcoholics Unanimous started on September 22, and wraps up this weekend.

I had an earlier post about the crazy local street layouts.  It’s hard enough to get anywhere on a street-map that looks like a plate of vermicelli at the best of times, and Oktoberfest is not the best of times.  We have at least three main streets with major road-repair happening, and several short sections of downtown streets will be closed for fest-tents, tourist information and music/dancing.  Throw in a hundred thousand confused tourists, attempting to drive in various states of inebriation, and we have a recipe for bumper-cars disaster.

Already, my son’s co-workers are reporting getting stopped in DUI ride-checks.  Oktoberfest brings a lot of income to the area, and many residents take a week of vacation, to work as bartenders, waiters, cab drivers, etc.  Probably even more take the time off and get out of town to escape the madness.

Originally, the organizers wanted to call it a Beer Festival, but the blue-nosed bureaucrats would have none of that.  It is a Bavarian Festival, and only cultural references may be advertised.  When it was younger and smaller, it was a friendly little celebration, and there were cultural aspects to it.  There are still things to do, even for a family.  One of the events is Bogenschutzenfest, an archery contest where the competitors try to hit a stuffed bird, high up on a post.  I guess it takes a drunken German to explain why killing eagles in trees was a good idea in the first place, and why there is a dearth of eagles in Germany today.

Several years ago, one of the nephews got married on the second Saturday of Oktoberfest.  The reception was in the basement of the Catholic Church where the mass was held.  Suddenly a group of Schuplattlers (German clog dancers) showed up and began to put on a show, while their manager held a conversation with the boy’s father.  After three or four dances they suddenly packed up and disappeared.  Apparently they had shown up at the wrong Catholic Church and there was a paid-up audience waiting for them elsewhere.  And these guys were sober!

Residents who live near big fest-halls can probably make five to ten dollars a day, by returning for deposit, all the beer bottles and cans left on their lawns.  Sadly, it doesn’t really pay for the time or yuck factor of also having to pick up food containers, used condoms, panties and other clothing, and human feces.  These days, the cultural competitions include public urination.  There are separate divisions for both male and female. Like the peppermint schnapps/Oktoberfest sausage vomiting, there are prizes for both distance and accuracy.  The artists in the drunkaholic crowd get their creative release by using car keys to draw pictures on automobiles in driveways.

In 1973 the committee issued commemorative Oktoberfest Dollars, silver-colored Trade Dollar coins, good for merchandise or services.  They discontinued the practice in 2002.  I still hadn’t got into coin collecting for the first couple of years, but when I did decide to, I found a plant worker who had extra coins of the years I missed, so I have a complete set.  In 1986, they went to a gold-colored coin which cost $2.  In 1998, they went back to the silver color, but the value was still $2.

Our Oktoberfest only lasts for nine days, but it must be like what living in downtown Las Vegas is like year-round.  Many residents, especially the younger ones, love it.  Many of the older set (not mentioning any names) aren’t too thrilled.  My son has two lapel buttons, which he put on his jacket last night.  One reads, “I’m from K-W, and I hate Oktoberfest!”  The other one says, “Willkomen (Welcome) to Oktoberfest.  Now Go Home!”

I’ve been lucky over the years, only being stopped by the police twice, both times coming home early in the evening from the outlaws’ house.  Once I was pulled into a RIDE check on my bike, about 10:30 P.M. on my way to work for an eleven o’clock shift.  Get drunk and ride a motorcycle?  I think not!

We’ve got an empty calendar next week, not even one doctor’s appointment.  It’s fairly safe to go out during the day.  They’re already doing stops at the Conestoga Parkway ramps this week, but the son uses surface streets to get to work.  He may get through four midnight shifts next week without being pulled over, then we can all relax and wait for things to get back to, what passes for normal in this town.

Skinny Dipping

Good Lord!  There was a bigger stampede that time than when I said to have a drink with me.  You people should be ashamed of yourselves….or party-proud.  Sadly, for you, I’ve led you astray again.  What I’m doing is dipping into recent newspaper stories, to give you the skinny, about a few of the things the local newspaper has seen fit to print recently.  Interesting?  Maybe.  Amusing?  Perhaps.  Entertaining?  I hope so!

First of all, does anyone know how the term “The Skinny” came into being?  If you don’t, don’t feel badly.  Not even Wikipedia can come up with a solid answer.  I don’t like the term.  Personally, I feel it’s too affectatious.  It’s used, fortunately sparingly, everywhere English is spoken, but it seems to be mostly a New York City piece of slang.  Montreal can hate Toronto, but I think we can all hate NYC!  It seems to be a newspaper term that started when some editor wanted to “get down to the skin” of a story.

A local woman has given birth to triplets.  That in itself is a one in ten thousand occurrence.  These three are all identical, which makes it literally, a one in a million.  Her doctor asked her which fertility specialist they’d gone to.  That confused the couple, since these three were naturally conceived.  They have a four-year-old son at home, and just brought home three more boys….and already she wants to try again, because she wants a girl.  She’ll end up with a baseball team, and no cheerleader.  Apparently she named the boys Blake, Lucas and Timothy, because the husband said that, with three chances, he still didn’t get to use his favorite name, Silas.

KayJai blogged about getting ready to withstand Hurricane Leslie, at her home in Newfoundland.  We’ve had a picture in the local paper, of a car, up to the top of its wheel-wells in water.  Seawater or fresh, that’s not going to do it a lot of good.  There was also a picture of a man in St. Johns, who had a three-foot thick tree split and fall on his house.  The ironic part was that Hurricane Leslie brought the tree down on this man’s house on Leslie Street.

Over in the next small city, a female preacher from the Church Of Holier Than Thou, felt that marriages at City Hall should be performed by more than just a clerk.  She went to the council and offered her services as City Pastor, essentially creating her own second, paid, part-time job.  But her particular sect would not allow her to marry same-sex couples, so she fobbed those off onto another preacher she knew, who could and would.

Gay and lesbian couples complained about discrimination, and getting second-tier service.  A court has decided that whoever does the job, needs to perform the entire job, so her fill-in has been appointed.  She “feels let-down”, and, of course, one of her church members has already had an op/ed letter printed, claiming she was discriminated against.  I see no discrimination against her, only her church against gays.  She wasn’t forced to marry gay couples.  She wasn’t forced to remain on the job, against her morals.  The city council had to choose between a city official who would do half a job, and one who would do the complete function.  I know which one I’d choose.  How about you?

A Nova Scotia folksinger has released an album entitled No More Pennies, which is all about the disappearance of the Canadian penny, now that the Mint is no longer stamping them out.  As part of the cover art, he had several images of Canadian pennies.  The Canadian Mint sent him an official cease-and-desist letter, saying that all image rights to all Canadian money belong to the mint.  If he were to sell more than 2,000 album copies, he would be subject to a $1200 royalty fee.  Several days later, after the public outrage died down a bit, and the Ritalin kicked in, the bureaucrats offered him a one-time exemption.  Take ‘er an’ run, me boy!

My wife said recently that my letters to the editor have died back a bit since I’ve taken up blogging.  I had another letter printed recently.  After our local by-election a man had a letter printed, in which he complained about getting an automated phone call, touting one of the candidates, at five to midnight, long after he’d gone to bed.  What particularly irked him, was that he does not live within the riding boundary.

The election committee apologised and blamed the service provider for both the timing and location.  Another man actually took the time and effort to send in a letter pointing out that the victim is now a member of the “connected” generation.  If he didn’t want to be wakened at night, he should “just turn the phone off.”  I submitted a letter which suggested that Mr. Sympathy could provide his own phone number.  That way, if Victim’s mother died of a heart attack, or his wife was involved in a traffic accident, or his son was pulled over after a late party for DUI, and needed bail and a drive home, Sympathy could take a message, and run over to the house and deliver it.

Some people can afford to be disconnected; others can’t.  Some people need it.  For a while, years ago, the local transit company had 888 numbers assigned to every stop in town.  If you called the stop number, the automated system would give you the expected times of arrival for the next two buses.  My daughter’s then-current boyfriend got sick of his drunken buddies calling him up in the middle of the night.  He paid for phone service which included call-forwarding.  Before he went to bed, he would set the system to call one of the bus-stops, or the answering machine at one of the local funeral homes.

1. H.E. ELLIS says:

September 4, 2012 at 7:44 pm (Edit)

Hello Archon and his league of illustrious Canadian-types. I’ve just gotten word that next week there will be a new blog that has to do with Canada. Here’s more info:

http://speaker7.wordpress.com/2012/09/04/canadica-is-coming/

Pass the word along to Kayjai and Harem.

By this method I have been a good boy and done that.  I also include SightsNBytes and all the other readers who would get a kick out of reading about Canadian/American comparisons and contrasts.  It can be reached directly at www.canadica.wordpress.com