Tag: silly

The Mustard Guru

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I am waiting for a process on this server to finish.
The progress bar is stuck at 27 percent.
“A watched progress bar never completes,” says the guru in the cubicle next to mine.
So, I turn off the monitor.
The guru turns it back on. “Can’t do that,” he says.
I close my eyes. He smacks me on the back of my head.
“Ouch.”
He hands me a packet of spicy mustard from his lunch.
“Smear that on the monitor,” he commands.
So, I do.
He smacks me on the back of the head again.
“Now, lick it off.”

The Bounce House

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We rented one of those moonwalk inflatable bounce castle things for Tim’s seventh birthday.
Sally’s busy with the cake. I have to check on something at work.
Looking over my laptop, I saw the kids dragging the castle in between the house and the pool.
Then from above, Tim shouts KOWABUNGA!
He jumps from the roof, lands in the castle, and then sails in an arc into the pool.
Huge splash. Laughter.
By the time I get outside, three more kids have jumped from the roof.
I yell at them. “I was supposed to go first!”
I climb the ladder.

Too Many Cookies

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The only number of cookies I eat are too many cookies.
I get really sick from eating too many cookies.
I wish I could eat just the right number of cookies, but I don’t think that number exists.
I tried to keep track with graph paper and a clipboard, but it’s covered with cookie crumbs and pink pepto bismol stains.
Maybe there’s something on the label?
The package has a bunch of nutritional data with a suggested serving size: one cookie.
Ever have just one cookie? Only one cookie?
Hardly the right number of cookies. Hardly a number at all.

Corn Dogs

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There’s nothing quite like a fresh hand-dipped corn dog at the county fair.
These aren’t the pre-processed ones you get at the state fair or the grocery store.
You can watch as they pull a hot dog out of the kettle, spear it with a stick, dip it in the batter, and dangle it in the hot oil.
Look behind the curtain, and you’ll see the batter-maid milking a batter-cow into pails, hot dogs picked straight from a hot dog tree, and the oil pumped straight from the Great Vegetable Oil River.
As I said, as fresh as can be.

Ceiling Fan

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I good salesman.
I sell ceiling fan to anybody.
I sell to The Pope.
He say his church, it too hot.
Ceiling fan, it a work? He ask.
You try, if it no work, you give back, I say. No pay.
The Pope, he rich, but he no stupid. He like no pay if no work.
We shake hands, share a pizza. Nice wine.
He buy fan, say put it up in my church.
I look, whoa. Tall ceiling. I need big ladder.
I put ceiling fan in chapel, right on Adam’s bellybutton.
It not pretty, but it a work.

Teleprompter

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The President read the words on the teleprompter, the camera watched him, and the people loved it all.
One day, The President decided to sleep late, so they pointed the camera directly at the teleprompter.
The people loved it much more than they loved The President.
When he woke up and heard that they loved the teleprompter more than they loved him, he appeared on camera without the teleprompter.
The people booed and hooted. They told him to go away.
So, he did. And when the teleprompter was broken, the Vice President’s teleprompter took over.
That’s when people freaked out.

April 1917

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At first, I thought the letter was dated April 1917.
Then, I realized it was addressed to someone named April 1917.
What kind of last name is 1917?
A trip to the Post Office confirmed their identity and the clerk at Window 3 asked if I had opened the letter.
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, at least you’re honest about that, the clerk said, and a set of tongs held by a pair of thick rubber gloves extended from the wall. “Just place the letter on the tray and we’ll get you decontaminated shortly.”
Damn postman. My name’s 1918, not 1917.

A Calendar Of Nobles

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It is the first of the month, and the Archduke of Junius is refusing to abdicate to his brother, Baron Von Quintilis.
Armies are dispatched, and in Quintillis’ defeat, a distant cousin steals the crown for himself.
Lord Julius laughs from his throne for thirty days, but when he wearies of power, hands the crown off to his uncle Augustus, not the rightful heir in the County of Sextilis.
The war rages on, and the nobility worries for the loss of life and riches.
An agreement is reached, and the Earl of September raises his scepter to forgive all involved.

Clown Pirates

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Long ago, I sailed the seven seas, and the winds flew through my hair.
I wasn’t much of a sailor and neither was my crew. We became shipwrecked on The Island Of The Clown Pirates.
It would have been paradise if it hadn’t have been for the balloon animal parrots, big floppy peglegs, and a crazy rowboat that almost a hundred of them climbed out of, one by one.
They had no swords, but every one of them could hurl a wicked custard pie.
So, we decided to join them.
The winds now fly through my gigantic red fright wig.

Headache vs. Toothache

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So, you have a headache and I have a toothache.
Which one is worse?
I’m sure your headache is pretty bad, but headaches are better than toothaches, I think.
Toothaches often require weird people called dentists with some expertise in dentistry to resolve. They use large metal things with lots of sharp edges to stop the toothaches. Or they just poke and prod and jab for a while and then take a mold or two, saying you need to come back in tomorrow for more.
Then the bill arrives, your insurance company turns down the claim, and you get headaches.