Taglines and more Taglines

Taglines and more Taglines

Because they haunt your dreams.

“Striving every day to do the least idiotic thing possible, generally failing.”

 

The above statement has been the tagline of this blog since its inception–sadly, it’s also been the guiding principle of my life–but it feels as if it’s time for a change. (For the tagline, my life’s a irreparable heap.)

So I’ve decided to try out a few alternatives:

idiotprufs: what happens when you don’t listen to that nagging little voice in your head.

idiotprufs: read by four out of five drunken monkeys-written by the fifth.

idiotprufs: the blog that is wanted by the authorities for questioning.

idiotprufs: just do it. (Evidently the people at Nike think they own everything.)

idiotprufs: the blog that got so drunk last night, it can’t remember anything it did.

idiotprufs: the last blog you will ever read…after you’ve stabbed your eyes out with a shrimp fork
.
idiotprufs: the blog that makes my friends deny they know me.

idiotprufs: the reason most of my family no longer speaks to me. (I wish I had started it sooner.)

idiotprufs: the reason I’ve been burned in effigy by Bolivian pudding makers.

idiotprufs: reading it will make your breath perpetually minty fresh.

idiotprufs: the blog labeled a bitter disappointment by its parents.

idiotprufs: the blog that was a banana slug in a previous life.

Read the rest...

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....

Bees and Calligraphy

Bees and Calligraphy

In my spare time I like to improve my yodeling.

First a few personal facts regarding the differences between bees and calligraphy:

1. I have never been stung in the face by calligraphy.
2. I have never gotten a D on an art project written in bee.

Good things about bees:

1. If you don’t happen to have any Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants, Africanized killers bees will work in a pinch.
2. It is hysterical when a bee stings a mime.
3. Pollination. Bees pollinate a vast array of plants, helping to propagate many types of fruits and flowers. I’m also pretty sure Donald Trump’s hair is some sort of hive.
4. They make honey, that sweet nectar byproduct without which Pooh bear would have never gotten his head caught in a honey pot, in that adorable image by A. A. Milne.  If it weren’t for that image, I’d have nothing tattooed to my left butt cheek.

Good things about calligraphy:

1. Because of calligraphy, nib manufacturing is still a thriving business in Bangladeshian sweat shops.
2. Without calligraphy wedding invitations would have to be written in silly fonts.
3. Anything written in calligraphy looks super classy; like William Shakespeare threw up on a piece of paper. (It’s how the entire first act of Much Ado About Nothing was written.)

Read the rest here....

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...

But Seriously

You’re just not serious enough.

My blog has recently received a criticism that I feel necessitates a response.

Note: when I write that my blog has received a criticism, what I mean is I’m choosing to focus on one criticism from the myriad of criticisms I have been inundated with. Criticisms of a variety and amount, they compel the use of the words myriad and inundate.

I have a meticulously constructed an eight step process for dealing with criticism.

1. Dismiss it initially with a forced chuckle.
2. Allow it to slowly creep back into my thoughts.
3. Push it to the dark recesses of my brain where it will exist as a tiny glowing ember.
4. Consciously ignore the fact that the glowing ember is growing into a substantial blaze.
5. Remain in a state of denial as the blaze turns into a raging inferno.
6. White-hot seething rage.
7. I suddenly realize that I’m just being silly and relax.
8. The next day I drop a package in the mail to the criticizer. The package contains a colony of Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants. The label on the package reads: shake roughly before opening.

Note: Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants hate to be shaken; they especially hate to be shaken roughly.

What was the criticism that triggered this post?

This blog isn’t serious enough.

Ridiculous. Here are some of the serious topics this blog has tackled:

Click here to find out what these serious topics are....

Top 15 Cameraman Gripes on the Set of Amish Mafia

The Children of the Corn--all grown up.

Number 15

Horse chigger bites itch like crazy.

Number 14

The way Steve is always referring to his beard as "The Babe Magnet."

Weird Al Yankovic doing his best impression of Steve.

Number 13

They can never remember their lines.

Number 12

How they turn everything you say into something risqué by punctuating it with, "'tis what she sayeth."

Number 11

The way they laugh hysterically after they intentionally lead you through a pile of horse crap.

Number 10

The Amish have no idea how to make a good martini.

See the rest of the list here....

Spring 2014: More Mooning Garden Gnomes

The prickly weed; an under appreciated weed.

The signs of spring are all around you:

• The temperature has warmed.
• The sound of birds chirping in the morning has replaced the sound of snow blowers and the guy across the street complaining bitterly as he scrapes the ice from his car.
• And the sound of his cursing as another ice-scraper breaks off in his hand and he yells, "that's it, I'm leaving this God forsaken weather and I'm going to Texas," as shakes his fist at the sky.
• Soon to replaced by his cursing as he scrapes bird crap from his windshield as he shakes his fist at the sky.
• The final remnants of where Gerald the neighbor kid, wrote insults to you in the snow with his pee, are finally melting away. That kid has a vivid imagination and a huge bladder.
• Your neighbor will begin work on his annual garden. In the coming months, he will regale you with baskets of fresh vegetables. He will explain to you that his garden has produced so overwhelmingly, that his own family couldn't possibly consume all the bounty themselves. Smug Jerk.
• Your other neighbor has once again placed a mooning garden gnome, Willard #6, facing your kitchen window.

Read the rest here...

"I'm Just so Happy to be Here" By Idiot-prufs

Idiot: a dolt, a dullard, a mentally deficient person, the guy who drives down the road with his seatbelt hanging from the door making sparks on the road.
Idiot-pruf: Any lesson learned as the direct result of an overt act of idiocy or the observation of an overt act of idiocy.
Example: If you don't want to be mocked by your friends; don't drive down the road with your seatbelt hanging from the door making sparks on the road.

I can hardly contain my excitement at the prospect of my blog, idiot-prufs, joining the contents of That Drawer in the Kitchen. I'm feeling dizzy with giddiness, my palms are sweaty, my head is swimming and my stomach is in knots. And I'm almost certain it has nothing to do with my dysentary.

Let's examine the contents found in a typical kitchen drawer:

• Assorted rubber-bands.
• A flashlight with no batteries.
• Batteries.
• A roll of unused Mr. Yuk stickers.
• A scrap of paper with the number for the poison center hotline hastily scribbled on it.
• That menu from the China Jade restaurant, that jams the drawer every time you try to open it.
• $2.79 in Canadian coins. (Canadians just call them coins.)
• That cool rock you found that is shaped just like a duck.
• A pen that doesn't write.
• A pen that writes but also leaks ink all over the place.
• An empty bottle of stain remover.
• An expired coupon for a bottle of stain remover.
• A box of 20 ultra petite condoms. (My kitchen drawer is not your kitchen drawer; don't judge me.)
• The manual for the toaster oven you threw away four years ago, after it caught on fire because you didn't follow the instructions in the manual.
• A butt-load of irony.
• Idiot-prufs the blog.

I'm just so happy to be here. Stay tuned.


Note: idiot-prufs has often been referred to as the juggernaut of the blogging world. Generally by me. Occasionally by others. But mostly by others when I lie about what others have said.

***Y'all Be Sure to Visit I.P.'s Blog - Idiot-Prufs ***