April 2011 - Posts
Easter probably conjures up images of little girls in sweet spring dresses, wearing little hats and brand new white shoes, and little boys in sweet little suits with shorts instead of long pants. You probably think of Easter egg hunts, chocolate bunnies and baskets filled with goodies on top of that plastic stuff that's green and is supposed to represent grass.
Another common tradition we all share is getting a picture taken with the Easter Bunny. Kids react in one of two ways to the giant Easter icon, just like at Christmas: They either love him or scream. There's no gray area when it comes to photography mixed with strangers in costume.
It's my experience that the Easter Bunny is silent, much like the characters at Disney or the mascots at sporting events. Rumor is that they don't speak so as to not ruin the mystique. I think they're terrified of being "outed." Wouldn't you be, if you were walking around dressed as a giant rabbit with a purple vest and bow tie?
I was thinking about the Easter Bunny, and what he might say if he did speak. What questions would he ask? What would his commentary be? Would he offer words of wisdom? Here's what I've got:
• I was robbed. Santa gets cookies, which are better than carrots.
• You owe me. I had an "oopsie" on your husband's bowling shirt – you know, the one you hate.
• Please dispose of your "Fatal Attraction" DVD. It gives me the willies.
• Before you bring your kid to see me at the mall, be sure the kid hasn't just had a 40-ounce Big Gulp and an entire pack of Pixie Stix.
• Peeps are like speed. Adults should partake.
• No, I do not "bedazzle" eggs.
• For the last time: I will not deliver Edward or Jacob wrapped in cellophane.
You know…God likes women. In fact, he loves them. And now we have proof.
A San Francisco man went into an adult video store Wednesday night and mysteriously caught fire. He just…burst into flames. He ran out of the store and into the street, where police officers who were right across the street saw him and called for firefighters.
The man was apparently in a private booth, watching videos, when the blaze, um, erupted. Insert perverted joke here.
Spontaneous combustion is not a new thing. It occurs without any external ignition source, and is usually a slow process that can take several hours of decomposition or oxidation, with heat building up to the point of ignition.
In humans, this phenomenon has been a rumored and often reported event, but there is limited evidence, and the events are generally considered urban legends, or cases of combustion through external means.
The first account of spontaneous human combustion was in 1663, when a woman in Paris just went up in ashes and smoke while she was sleeping. The straw mattress on which she was sleeping was untouched.
There have been hundreds of accounts since that time and they're all the same: the victim is almost completely consumed, usually inside his or her home. There's always a sweet, smoky smell in the room after the fire is out. And there's never any conclusive reason given as to what happened.
Ladies, we all know how the fire started. God sent that sinner on fire. He was in a porn store, watching porn, and sinning against women everywhere, so God lit that sucker on fire.
And with this refining fire comes justice. All is right in female land again. And to men everywhere…remember…God is always watching you.
My niece has been taught that stupid is a bad word. It's negative and shouldn't be used to describe anyone or as an insult toward anyone.
But you know, there are times it's just appropriate.
Police in Narragansett, R.I. have arrested a local man and charged him with credit card theft after he sent a thank you note and flowers to his victim. Yep. He sent the woman flowers and a thank you note. After he charged $2,400 to her credit card.
Another less-than-smart dude has arrested after he posted videos of himself teaching his 15-year-old nephew how to roll and smoke marijuana. How nice of this uncle to train up his nephew in the ways of wacky tobacky.
Perhaps one of the best dumb criminal stories I've heard lately happened in Dallas, Texas. Two burglars broke into a store that sells high-end security equipment. The images of the two men robbing the store were captured on 17 different cameras.
Hello! Never break into a security equipment store. Duh!
But my favorite is the guy who went into a drugstore, announced he was going to rob the place, and then proceeded to pull a Hefty garbage bag over his head, to conceal his identity.
He had neglected to cut eyeholes.
Stupid ought to hurt. It just ought to.
Betty White is my hero. She's a genius. Pure and simple.
The 89-ear-old has just inked a deal to film 12 episodes of her new hidden camera show, "Betty White's Off Their Rockers," in which senior adults will play pranks on much younger victims.
Genius, I tell you.
It oughtta be called, "Punk'd Whippersnappers." Whatever they call it, I'm watching.
I'm pretty much over pollen. It's had me sneezing for weeks, and I've had a headache for days. Now I have a backache. I'm blaming the pollen for that, too.
I am enjoying spring, though. Is it just me or does everything seem greener this year? Guess it's just me.
There's a crazed redbird that is continuously pecking on my window each day. All day. Every day.
While it is true that the bird has mad rhythm skills, I do worry about the little booger. What does he think he's doing? What's going through his little bird brain? Obviously, he can see himself and is attacking as a result.
But what does this say about the little guy? Doesn't he like himself? Does he need therapy? I'm sure we could all chip in and help him if he can't afford it.
Until we can get you into therapy, little guy, back off. You're only hurting yourself.