Woefully Inadequate Preparation

Woefully Inadequate Preparation

Useless knowledge when you’re about to be cut.

This occurred while I was working as a quality control inspector at a steel coating plant near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I was sitting at my desk filling out paperwork–paperwork that I’m sure was vital to the daily functioning of the plant, and not be interrupted–when the crane operator, Jim, burst into the office.

“We have a problem,” he barked.

Jim tended to have problems more days than not. Urgent problems. Urgent problems of all varieties. (I could tell it was urgent because Jim was using his urgent voice. His urgent voice was similar to his whiny voice, but an octave higher.)

I looked around the office to discover I was the only one there. Crap.

“Houston,” I said to him.

“What?”

“When you burst into a room to exclaim that you have a problem, you’re supposed to say, ‘Houston, we have a problem.'”

“But we’re not in Houston.”

Note: nobody gets me.

“Never mind. What’s the problem?” I asked with genuinely feigned interest.

“Look at this,” he said as he shoved his phone at me. It was a picture of some temp workers standing outside on a smoke break.

“It’s a picture of some temp workers standing outside on a smoke break.” I said.

“You don’t see the problem?” He was incredulous.

“The threat of emphysema?”

“Look closer.” He shoved the phone at me again.

“Okay. They’re all smoking cigarettes, except for that little guy who seems to be holding…a crack pipe.”

“So you understand the problem now?”

“He’s not sharing with the others?”

“This is serious,” he snapped.

“Selfishness is a serious problem, Jim,” I admonished him.

“I can’t be operating a crane out there with people running around all hopped up on drugs.”

“Do people still use the phrase hopped up?”

“Are you going to do something or not?”

To find out if I did anything....http://idiotprufs.com/

Head Wounds, Deer Semen and Fear: A Famliy Reunion

Head Wounds, Deer Semen and Fear: A Famliy Reunion

You’re not related to these men, you should be so lucky.

So you think your family reunions are miserable?

I’m referring to those occasions that include grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, creatures who claim to be cousins, but who you could swear are really albino trolls, in-laws, out-laws, felons, significant others, insignificant others, the cast of that creepy movie The Others.

Do you have that one guy who doesn’t seem to belong with any particular family, but always shows up around the holidays. He wears an eye-patch, has a peg leg, and refers to everyone as Matey.

Does the mere act of thinking about your family make you sweat profusely and vomit a little in your mouth?

Does your calendar have the date of your family reunion circled with the word, Armageddon, written across it in blood?

Do you equate spending the day with the extended family with that disturbing dentist/torture scene from Marathon Man?

When you’re with your family, do you wish you could trade places with Dustin Hoffman’s character?
Did you get all the way to the closing credits of The Hills Have Eyes before you realized it wasn’t a home movie?

Do you read Oliver Twist and think: lucky bastard?

Read the rest here....

Word Abuse: Sea Salt

Here’s a tip for all you budding entrepreneurs out there in New Internetsland.  Got a new product you’re trying to sell?  Then make sure you emblazon the words “Sea salt” anywhere on the package.

Looking for a license to print money?  Who isn’t?!?!?  Look no further!  “Sea salt” will take you to the promise land!  Hawking a new cracker?  Bor-ing!   Throw the words “Sea salt” in there and suddenly you’ve got a one way ticket to Moneytown. 

“Sea salt crackers”.

See that?!?!? Holy shit!  You’ve got a hankerin’ for tasty crackers now, dontcha?

But…wait!!  Did you hear that?  That was the sound of a million registers ringing out at once, from people just like you suddenly giving into the urge for “Sea salt crackers”

chocolate?!?! for real!?!?

And believe you me, “Sea salt” isn’t just for crackers!  Oh, no!  It works on chips, granola bars…and get this…even chocolate!

Not only does “Sea salt” add a ton of credibility to your product, it automatically adds a ton of unscientifically proven health benefits!  Like…it’s not “regular” salt.

“Regular” salt is just so bourgeois anymore.  Want to impress your dinner guests?  Nothing screams class like products  made with “Sea salt”.  Just make sure that your dinner guest either see the packaging or tell them

this one's a double offender. "Artisan".

straight up:  “Not only does that granola bar taste good…it’s good for you!  Because it’s made from real “Sea salt”.

Just ignore the fact that “Sea salt” has no additional health benefit over “regular salt”.  And probably tastes the same, as well.   Facts just get in the way of marketing.

What do you mean you haven't seen the new "mini" show yet?!?!?  What are you waiting for?!?!?

Ten Years Ago Today: Dad Died

Today's story is very personal. If you came looking for teh funnay, I can't bring it today. Having said that, I think many of you will relate to what I am gonna write about.

10 Years Ago Today

June 5, 2004 was just another day at the Dumbass Dome. So I thought.

Dad, Debbie, Adam & Sara, c. 1996

I was doing the normal routine - having a beer for breakfast, smokin' a fatty and getting tuned up for work. I was walking past the front door of my house when I saw a black Toyota zoom into my drive way. It was my sister, Cheryl. From Dallas. 100 miles away from where I lived.

Instinct told me that something was wrong.

Very wrong.

It was.

Very wrong.

Read the rest.....

Nothing like a binkytini for buying yourself 5 seconds of silence

Okokok.  Here’s what I want to know.  Which one of you sickos is responsible for this disclaimer:

C’mon!  Fess up.  Stand up with pride.  Who served up a binkytini to their lil darling, for just a few hours of precious sleep.  Don’t be shy, now.  I’m not condemning you.  Oh no.  I know far too well that desperate times call for desperate measures.

Now look…I ain’t condoning slipping your kid a mickey (as it were) to save your sanity.  Not at all!  I’m just saying…I feel your pain.

If you haven't caught the premiere of the Almost Internet Famous Internet "mini" show, then you are just bringing shame upon yourself AND your family.

Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants

The Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ant. How would like to get a package of these?

In a recent post, But Seriously, I described of my use of Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants when dealing with critics. When I receive criticism I feel is unwarranted, I drop a package in the mail to the criticizer. The package contains a colony of the ants in question. The label on the package reads: shake roughly before opening. (The only thing Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants hate more than critics is to be shaken roughly.)

Note: For criticism to reach the Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ant level, it has to really hurt my feelings; if I exhale a feeble whimper followed by a pained, why, upon receiving the criticism, you’re getting ants in the mail.

It would seem there some people out there who don’t believe that Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants are real. People who all suddenly seem to be experts on Amazonian wildlife and entomology. People who say they’ve done their own research and can’t find any evidence of the existence of such an insect.

Hey people, Google doesn’t know everything.

These people claim that no self-respecting taxonomist would give an ant such a silly name.

Things are often given weird or inappropriate names. Have you ever seen a person and immediately thought to yourself: that person’s parents misnamed him; his name should be Rat-Bastard Morgan instead of Piers.

Note: My deepest apologies to Piers Morgan and his family, that was entirely uncalled for, but I really like that joke.

They also say that ants don’t sting: they bite.

Nature provides us with many oddities and exceptions: mammals don’t lay eggs, but the duck-billed platypus does. Birds don’t swim under water, but penguins do. Humans don’t shed their skin like snakes, but Hugh Hefner does. The list goes on and on.

Note: No apologies for Hef: he’s a reptile.


Let’s say for the sake of argument, the name Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants, is in fact a product of my fertile if not slightly warped mind.

Read the rest here...

Drunk Dumbass Goes On Midget-Tossing Rampage!

Physically speaking, I am a small man.

Some Dumbasses would say the same about my mental capabilities and character too.

The ones who carry these ludicrous thoughts around with themselves are either

• 1) Liberals or
• 2) Those who wish to dethrone me as The Fearless Leader of the Dumbass Horde.

Let me tell you sons of motherless goats in Group 2 that it ain't gonna happen.

As far as Liberals go, I ain't skeered of a bunch of sissies who want to turn the USA into Fwance. What a perfect match. The Fwench wouldn't fight to save their own mothers and Liberals won't work to save their own mothers. Knowing that, I'm pretty sure that my reign as The Fearless Leader of the Dumbass Horde is safe.

Read the rest......

Punch an Idiot in the Face Day

jack elam you sure ask a lot of questions
happy face idiot
wifes feet dont smell enough
cartoon scientists pictures
punch an idiot in the face day
bug eyed cartoon characters
job interview with gator boots
school counselors dumb
my idiot neighbor

A few weeks ago this cluster of search terms appeared on my stats page.

Several random thoughts immediately leapt into my brain.

Note: there’s a lot of room in my brain for random thoughts to leap, stretch out, or do an entire gymnastic floor routine; it’s pretty vacant up there.

Thoughts such as:

• What kind of questions does Jack Elam ask, and why are there so many of them?
• How badly do your wife’s feet have to smell for it to be enough?
• How do you know my neighbor, and how do you know he has a happy face?
• Wow, this blog certainly attracts some weirdos (but not you).
• Punch and idiot in the face day? Is that a real thing?

After doing an extensive amount of research–Google–I discovered that “punch an idiot in the face day” does not exist.

Bitter disappointment.

Then I had another thought: just because something isn’t, doesn’t mean it can’t be.

Read my solution here....

Giant Sucking Sound: Dumbass Siphons Sewage, Not Gas, From R V!

It is for the newer Dumbasses that I bring back one of the funniest (and most popular!) stories in the History of Dumbass News!

Read the rest here.....

Marketing Genius: Get a FREE Pizza with a Vasectomy!

As we all know, the economy is in pretty rough shape.

As a result, many retailers are offering incentives for you to shop at their business. You know what I mean...buy 1 get 1 free, late night sales that offer deep discounts, etc.

That said, I found a business with an incentive that tops anything you've ever seen before.


Snip Snip

A doctor in Sandwich. Massachusetts had a plan for all you guys on the go. This special gives new meaning to the term "March Madness". For you men about town, Dr. Evan Cohen is offering with each vasectomy in March, a FREE pizza! Yes, men, while some guy is fooling around with your nut sack, you can enjoy a nice, hot pepperoni pizza!

Pepperoni.

Ironic, ain't it?

Read the rest.....

Big Foot Hoax Turns Dumbass Into Roadkill!

We have covered some very strange Dumbass Ways to Die here on Dumbass News and we'll do so again today,

But, let us first review some of the stoopid ways that some of our Dearly Departed Dumbasses have left this veil of tears.

One example of a real good way to die (unless you're the dead person) is during sex.

In one story, we found out about a woman who died doing the dirty deed with her husband. No she didn't bite the Big One having the Big O, she bit the bullet. Literally shot to death by her old man during some freaky Dirty Harry Sex Game. I have heard of sex weird ass sex toys, but a .45 ain't one of 'em.

Then there was the case of some Old Guy keeling over during a lap dance at the local Jiggle Joint, or the Titty Bar as some of you prefer.

Those Dead Dumbasses have nothing on the guy we will be highlighting today.

Read the rest.....

Cyber Crime Solved by Pic of Boobs on Internet!

Best of Dumbass News

Certain subject matter draws readers to this blog like a candy store brings in fat kids.

If you were to go to the "Dumbass Search" feature located in the right side bar and typed in nekkid, tattoos or boobs, you would come up with the most popular posts this blog has put forth.

I have written some outstanding articles dealing with other material, but nekkid, tattoos and boobs are hands down the favorite topics of the Dumbass Horde. Hit up those three links and you'll see exactly what kind of perverted Dumbasses I get reading my award-worthy filth. You can thank me later.

Read the rest.....

No Check In the Mail; Guy Bites Mailman! By s2!

Man bites mailman, however, is Dumbass.

Meet Robert Kiefer, aged 25, of Akron, Ohio:

Mr. Kiefer was anxiously awaiting a check. His disappointment that said check didn't arrive was made manifest when he chased down the 56 year old mail carrier, snatched his pepper spray, squirted it in his eyes, and threw him to the ground. In the ensuing moments, Kiefer is alleged to have bitten his victim 3 times.

Police officers found Kiefer and the postman engaged at a nearby intersection, surrounded by a small crowd of onlookers. Intervention led to a short lived scuffle between Kiefer and law enforcement. Seems they had pepper spray, too.

Research revealed that the dumbass lives in a single family dwelling owned by someone named R. Kiefer, but that individual is in his eighties. This leads me to believe Dumbass is living with his grandfather, or a relative of his grandfather's generation.

Questions:

From whom, then, was the check (that didn't arrive) coming? Or not coming, as the case may be.

Onlookers? Nobody stepped up to aid a 56 year old man, defending himself against somebody half his age? And why is there no cell phone video available?

Is this dumbass a likely Occupy _______ member?

Going out on a limb here, but what line of work do you suppose he does? I ask, because it is apparent that waiting on the mailman is NOT a lucrative career choice.

Even for a dumbass.

"Situational Awareness Photos" by s2, Dumbass Emeritus

Stoo, Dumbass Emeritus is a long-time member of the Dumbass Horde. 

Stoo has also contributed mightily, through observation and content, to the preservation and dissemination of Dumbassery.

Today, Ladies and Gentlemen, stoo, Dumbass Emeritus, makes his initial foray into the blogosphere as a Public Provider of Stoopidity with this collection of photos entitled "Situational Awareness".

I know, the urge to relieve oneself can be all consuming, but don't let it lead to actual, you know, consumption.

Yeah, trophies are nice, and all, but....

Okay, narcissism in a Dumbass trait, but what about the person that took this photo? Unless the skinny broad also has a tripod mounted camera on a timer, that is.

Boy, is she gonna be pissed!

She doesn't hear the cat telling her to look out?

Non-lethal, and he IS getting a nap out of the deal. So, silver lining.

Career politicians should know all about Situational Awareness. Happily, David Cameron of the UK, is clue challenged.

Okay, so they're pretty young, and mostly blonde. Still...

They THINK they're having a good day. All that is about to change, though.

Now here, the subject (pronounced Dumbass) seems to be trying for Situational Awareness, so the photographer is some special sort of jerk.

Different guy, same ol' Dumbassery.

Dumbasses, the lot of 'em.