Can’t A Guy Wear a Tinfoil Hat These Days Without Being Called Crazy?

Why is that when a perfectly normal, decently attractive man steps out into the world wearing a tin foil hat, everyone automatically thinks he’s crazy? Is it really that implausible that someone might just LIKE the way a tin foil hat looks on his head?

I mean, seriously, a tin foil hat is more affordable, versatile and sparkly than pretty much any store-bought hat you can buy. What’s not to like?

Not everyone who wears a tin foil hat does it because they believe the government is listening in on their thoughts, you know? I mean, I do believe that. 100 percent. But it’s not the PRIMARY reason that I wear this hat.

After all, I could wear any number of hats to meet that goal – iron helmet, enchanted wizard cap, hollowed-out watermelon. It’s just, I CHOOSE to wear a tin foil hat because I like the way it hides my bald spot. Also, if Medusa ever sneaks up behind me, BAM! She catches a glimpse of her reflection and she’s turned to stone.

So, you see, we’re not ALL crazy conspiracy theorists who believe aliens are on their way to earth to round up all us humans so they can sell us to an intergalactic space zoo. Obviously, that’s just not true. Any sane person will tell you that the aliens are ALREADY HERE, slowly picking us off one by one!

And if you think you’re safe just because you’re a cartoon breakfast cereal mascot, think again. Because guess what? Toucan Sam works for them, now.

So you see, it just so happens that a few outspoken bad apples have spoiled the bunch when it comes to wearing tin foil hats. It’s a lot like how Adolf Hitler ruined the perfectly harmless-looking toothbrush mustache for everyone else (which I also obviously also have).

And sorry guys, but not everybody who wears Kleenex boxes for shoes is named Howard Hughes and has an unhealthy fear of germs. I’d show you my driver’s license to prove it, but I burned all my government-issue forms of identification to keep the the FDA from infecting me with the flu vaccine. So you’ll just have to take my word for it.

Come on everyone, this is the 21st century! I thought we put all those narrow-minded thoughts and stereotypes behind us. I mean, just because someone is wearing a New York Yankees hat, that doesn’t automatically mean he’s a Yankees fan! For all you know, he could just be a regular, run-of-the-mill demonic shapeshifter from Hell trying to blend in with human society.

So yeah, when I put it that way, don’t you just feel like an dumb idiot?

Look, I’m sorry I lost my temper. I don’t usually yell at people (just the invisible spiders that try to attack me on street corners). It’s just, I’ve been dealing with weird looks and whisperings behind my back for way too long. I apologize.

Now, can anyone at this middle school bake sale stop clutching her child to her chest long enough to help me out of this straightjacket!? Those little pots filled with the Gummi worms and crushed up Oreo cookie “dirt” just look delicious.

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How to Beat a Dog in a Foot Race

When it comes to most things, us humans pretty much totally destroy the canine species. Racecar driving? No contest. Archery? Easy breezy. Multiplication times tables? Made in the shade. Space travel? Well, technically they made it there first, but us humans have been to the moon. So there.

But one area where dogs still have the upper hand is foot races. Despite a number of highly publicized and valiant attempts from us humans (i.e. Carl Lewis v. Snickers, 1987), those cocky pooches continue to leave us in the dust.

And frankly, it’s embarrassing. Dogs can’t even dress themselves, for God’s sake. We have to do it for them! Where do dogs get their inhuman speed? Is it steroids? No (at least, not in the case of Lewis v. Snickers). Is it the result of an unholy deal with the devil? Almost certainly.

We all love gloating and shouting things like, “in your face” and “Looooser” into our dogs’ faces after beating them at chess or murdering them in a computer typing contest. Here’s how to keep those good times rolling and make sure your next foot race with a dog doesn’t leave you feeling like the inferior species.

Get a Good Head Start

If Fido beats you off the blocks, the race is already over. To ensure a good start, try this: take your mark, get set, and then ball your hand up into a tight fist. Show the dog the fist – wave it around a lot to really get his attention. Then, when the starting gun goes off, pretend to throw whatever is in your hand (nothing) in the opposite direction of the finish line. That dog will turn and start to chase that invisible ball like a sucker. And once he finally realizes he’s been duped, you’re already well on your way to victory.

Consider a Relay Race

If dogs have one weakness when it comes to foot races, it’s passing the baton. Exploit this weakness by inviting three of your fastest friends to race with you. Then, while you’re adeptly using your hands (complete with opposable thumbs) to pass the race from one intelligent life form to another, leg 1 and 2 of Team Pooch are stuck playing tug-of-war with that big, bright-colored stick. Zeus, Bandit: it’s called teamwork. Use it (idiots).

Plant a Bowl of Wet Food at the 30M Mark

Dogs get distracted pretty easily. Placing a big bowl of wet food along the track is almost guaranteed to buy you a few extra seconds. Other items worth planting include squeaky toys, mailboxes, fire hydrants, a hopping frog, a vacuum cleaner and things with interesting smells.

Avoid Using Cats

It’s common practice for us humans to use a cat as a lure to increase our motivation to run faster (“I want to pet that kitty!!”). However, this tactic is likely to be counter-productive when racing a dog. Similarly, hiring a dogcatcher to chase you around the track is also not recommended.

Can the Dog be a Wiener Dog?

If you get to choose your opponent, opt for a wiener dog. Their small frames and stubby legs just aren’t built for racing. Corgis and basset hounds are other good choices. If you don’t get to select the dog breed, at least try to get a pup with three legs or less.

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Dad, When Can We Leave the Bomb Shelter?

Dad, I’ve been staring at the concrete wall over there for a couple hours now, and during that time I’ve been thinking things over. I know you’re just trying to keep my best interests in mind here, but dad, when can we leave the bomb shelter?

Yes, I know you’re worried about nuclear fallout. And you’re right, if we open that door to a nuclear wasteland, we’ll get radioactive poisoning and die a slow, painful death. But – and this is going to sound like I’m beating a dead horse – I’m pretty sure that “nuclear explosion” you heard wasn’t a bomb at all. It was a pot being dropped in the kitchen.

A pot you, yourself, dropped I might add. You’ve agreed with me in the past that the sound of the nuclear bomb coincided precisely with the moment that pot of wet noodles hit the floor. So then, and stay with me here, doesn’t it seem possible that the world remains in tact? And if we open that door, we’ll step out into a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon?

Look, I know I’m your only son and you want to protect me, but sitting down here in this bomb shelter is no way to live.

It’s been six months, dad! Even if there was a bomb, don’t you think the nuclear fallout would have dissipated into the atmosphere by now? God, I’m so bored. You know, you could have at least packed a deck of cards or book of crosswords or something.

No, I do not want to read the bomb shelter instructions manual again! I’ve read that thing a million times already! I want to go outside!

Do you hear that, dad? Do you hear those noises out there? THOSE ARE CHILDREN PLAYING IN THE BACKYARD! And I should be out there playing with them. I don’t know what more proof you need. How could little children – one of which is your own daughter by the way – be laughing and playing if it’s a nuclear winter out there?

And remember 6 months ago, when mom knocked on the door outside? She yelled through the door that if we were in here, it was time to stop playing around and come eat dinner?

NO THAT WAS NOT A ZOMBIE WHO WANTED TO EAT OUR BRAINS! It was mom! And if you hadn’t covered my mouth when I tried to yell back to her, she’d know we were in here! But now she probably thinks we’re dead.

Dad, please. We ate the last of the Beefaroni last night, and we’ve been drinking our own urine for two weeks now. It’s time to give it up. Tell me the code to the door and I’ll let us out of here.

Dad! Goddamn it, answer me! I swear to Jesus, if my legs hadn’t atrophied from sitting in this tiny pit for the past 6 months, I’d get up and kick your ass right now!

Dad? Dad? Oh great, he’s dead. Probably from dehydration. Isn’t that just perfect? Now what am I going to do?

Where did that instruction manual go?

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How To Reminisce About The Good Ol’ Days

In today’s topsy-turvy world, we all yearn for a simpler lifestyle from time to time. And if you take a second and think really hard, you might be able to vaguely recall that such a time once existed. Keep pumping that brain muscle of yours, and you may even be able to recall a fuzzy snippet from this storied golden era of yesteryear – a hoop-and-stick toy here, a belt strap used to carry your books there…

What you are remembering is something called “the good ol’ days.” But these tiny one-off memories just simply aren’t substantial enough to completely lose yourself in the wholesome bygones of a simpler time. No sir, if you truly want to re-conjure those big, meaty memories from your days of yore, then you’re going to have to take a few well-planned action steps.

Here’s what you need to do to jog your memory so that you can effectively reminisce about the good ol’ days:

Whittle Something

If you think there’s no such thing as a time machine, think again. Because when it comes to reminiscing, a sturdy branch of birchwood is your cockpit to the past, and a sharp knife is the ignition switch. With each whittled stroke, you’ll instantly be transported further and further back in time. Once you land on those memories that are wholesomely filtered with a sepia tone, you know you’ve found the sweet spot.

If you’ve never whittled before, no worries. You needn’t make a polished walking cane or corn-cob pipe to effectively reminisce. In fact, merely sharpening a stick to a fine point is generally the preferred way to achieve maximum nostalgia. (tip: for added benefit, sit in a rocking chair on the front porch of an old farmhouse).

Tilt Your Head Up Slightly and Look Off Into the Distance

Unfocusing on the real world is the key to re-discovering those long-buried memories. To achieve this, unfocus your eyes, tilt your head skyward and stare blankly at a random point in space. Crack a small smile, and watch out! Because all those high-finned cars and afternoons at the hop are about to come flooding back.

Blow Some Dust Off of an Old Record

You know those big black discs of vinyl you have stored up in the attic? Those things are called records. They’re like MP3s, except better because the sound quality isn’t as good. If this sounds like news to you, that’s okay. As soon as you climb up into that creaky old attic and start blowing dust off of those big, bulky discs, those little flecks of dust shimmering through the Sunday afternoon sunlight will act like magical pixie dust. Instantly, you’ll be transported back to the time you had that swinging party with the gang on the beach or saw the Beach Boys in that one little club before they made it big.

Run Into an Old Friend From High School

Sometimes, when you are out shopping at one of those discount super stores – or some other “modern” store that completely lacks character or down-home goodness – you will look up to see someone that looks vaguely familiar. This person is an old buddy from high school. You probably played football with him or roomed with her at summer camp. Either way, approach this person and re-introduce yourself.  Together, the two of you will combine mental forces to synergize the heck out of some nostalgic memories.

If you’re having trouble remembering how you two know each other, say this: “Remember Old Man Peters and that watermelon patch of his?” That should get the ball rolling. Then, pull out your whittling sticks or dusty records and, trust me, the memories will come pouring out.

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Still More Street Advertisements

funny street ad

 

 

 

 

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“Crummy Tummy” Earns Coveted Innovation Award at 10th Annual International Bullying Conference

This past weekend, thousands of bullies assembled at the Embassy Suites in downtown Tulsa, Oklahoma to discuss the current state of the bullying industry. Following two days of keynote speeches and interactive workshops (with topics such as “Tattletales: a Growing Dilemma” and “How to Spot a Nerd“), the weekend culminated in an awards ceremony devoted to honoring this year’s most prolific and innovative bullies.

Crummy Tummy Innovator Scary Larry (right)

Each year, the most sought-after award is the prestigious Golden Noogie – handed down to the bully who “most effectively advances the field of bullying.” This year’s winner, “Scary” Larry Dodson, earned top honors for giving the bully community the gift of the “Crummy Tummy.”

The Crummy Tummy, which was invented by Scary Larry back in February of this year, has since caught on like wildfire. Though originating in a small middle school in Topeka, Kansas, bullies as far off as Russia and Laos have cited the new maneuver as a welcome addition to their arsenal of bully tricks.

To successfully perform a Crummy Tummy, the bully must pin down their nerd, lift his shirt and rub the subject’s own sandwich (or other breaded item) on the stomach (tummy) while repeatedly shouting, “Crummy Tummy! Crummy Tummy!”

As Scary Larry explains, “The maneuver can be used alone, but also works as a great topper to a Wet Willie or Indian Rug Burn.”

Naturally, the new school prank is most easy to implement in the school lunchroom, but, as the judges noted, the “dumb allergies of stupid nerds means they almost always have to bring their own lunch.” As such, sack lunches can be found on any target before lunch period.

Other nominees for this year’s Innovation Award included the Icy Undie, Abominable Butt Taco, Reverse Wedgie (for female targets) and, all the way from the Middle East, the Hummus Hat.

The Crummy Tummy won by a landslide, and has been heralded as the greatest leap forward in bullying since the “Hertz Donut.”

When asked how he dreamed up such a simple, yet effective and embarrassing nerd bashing technique, Scary Larry admits it was mostly a case of pure serendipity: “Taylor Fletcher – I mean Gaylor Bitchler – was sitting all alone at lunch and it just happened.”

Not since the legendary Awful Waffle has such an innovative bully tactic been received so well by the bullying community. Surveys handed out during the conference suggest that the Crummy Tummy has already displaced the purple nurple as the 3rd most commonly used bully tactic of the year.

The Wet Willie and Noogie retain their first and second place spots, respectively.

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NASA Discovers “Banana Split” Solar System

Yesterday, NASA was elated to report the discovery of a distant solar system situated more than 11 light years from earth. The solar system is enticing for many reasons, such as the inclusion of several earth-like planets. Also, these planets are revolving around a massive ice cream banana split.

This is the first time in history that astronomers have discovered a solar system that orbits around an “ewie gooey center.”

Initial reports seem to indicate that the banana split has a mass equivalent to two suns. As NASA representative, Drake Blanston, indicates: “this is the most massive extraterrestrial banana split we’ve ever discovered. We’re talking 5 heaping scoops of ice cream, 2 whole bananas, hot fudge and whipped cream. Top it all off with a generous sprinkle of jimmies and one delicious cherry, and we’ve got one enormous banana split.”

Initial reports suggest that the five scoops of ice cream may be orange sherbet, peppermint, blue raspberry, pistachio and chocolate chip cookie dough. However, analysts were quick to note that the green scoop may not actually be pistachio, but rather, a much tastier mint chocolate chip.

NASA was initially skeptical that a sweet, sugary treat could be large enough to serve as the center of a solar system. However, through magnetic resonance imaging, NASA has ascertained that at an “extra dense deposit of fudge brownie cake” lies hidden at the core of the ginormous intergalactic dessert.

Given the large radius of orbiting objects, NASA estimates that this core of super fudge must be incredibly dense. “More than likely,” Blanston states, “if you were somehow lucky enough to eat this fudge, you would only be able to take one or two bites before succumbing to its exceptional richness of flavor.”

The banana split has managed to pull a wide range of celestial objects into its orbit – from giant candy corns and gumdrops to streaming chocolate comets and a cotton candy asteroid belt.

NASA has already formed a tactical team that is hard at work planning a mission to the distant solar system. “We are expediting plans to investigate this solar system,” Blanston confirms, “because, unlike other planetary systems in space, this one looks really, really yummy.”

Veteran astronaut Terry Gilihad has been selected to head the mission once in space. Though the space journey could take as many as 15 years, Gilihad is hopeful that “we will be there in time to celebrate my 70th birthday party.” If this timeline is met, Gilihad and team will start by sampling each scoop of ice cream to determine which is their favorite. They then will proceed to eat the entire banana split, saving this favorite flavor for last.

When asked about the potential for one of the candy planets to harbor extraterrestrial life forms, NASA admits it is a possibility. A handful of the Milk Dud planets revolve at a distance that would suggest an adequate environment for intelligent life to flourish.

“When speaking of finding intelligent life on these planets, there are two primary questions,” Gilihad explains, “One: can the atmosphere retain enough oxygen to produce and sustain life? And two: are these life forms made out of Devil’s food cake? Because that stuff goes great with ice cream.”

The mission to the new solar system is estimated to cost NASA nearly $18 billion. However, Ben & Jerry’s has offered to donate a percentage of funds to the project, provided NASA names the space vessel “Ben & Jerry’s Space-berry Fields Forever.”

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Where Are All the Hideous Swamp Monsters When You Need Them?

Swamp monsters. They sure do have terrible timing, right ladies? I mean, one second, I’m in the backseat of a 1965 AMC Rambler having a steamy make-out sesh with my dreamy boyfriend, the next I’m being dragged kicking and screaming into the foggy night.

Hey, Swampy! Newsflash: that letterman’s jacket flung over my shoulders means I’m taken!

But then, when I’m single, I can’t catch the eye of a swamp monster to save my life. Can they smell my desperation? Or is it that they only want what they can’t have?

And why is it that every time I sit down to have a nice picnic along the waterfront, a swamp monster sneaks up behind me and carries me away before I even have a chance to eat my Ants on a Log appetizer? But then, when I need to get to the other side of a puddle without getting my high heels wet, where is Mr. Seaweed Arms to sweep me off my feet?

Is it because they think I won’t kick my feet wildly into the air and pound on their backs with my tiny fists as they carry me to the other side of that puddle? Because that’s simply not true. I know they like it when I act scared. That’s why whenever a puddle or patch of mud crosses my path, I place my white-gloved hands over my cheeks and scream bloody murder.

It’s supposed to be a subtle hint that I’m looking to get picked up, but does it work? No.

Or how about when I get home and I have an entire trunk full of groceries? Sure, the swamp monster may show up, but it’s like, hey fish breathe, NOT ME! The groceries! I need help carrying the GROCERIES!

But no matter how much I yell in his ear, he just doesn’t listen. Of course, my friend Janice says swamp monsters don’t understand English, but I disagree. I just think that’s what they WANT you to think. That way, they have an excuse to sit around on their lazy slimy butts when they don’t feel like carrying in groceries, mowing your lawn or helping you rearrange the living room furniture.

And what’s the deal with always carrying me to that same pile of wet, rotting leaves under Stony Creek Bridge? Hello!? You took me here last time you picked me up! How about a little variety? What if I don’t want sea algae and fish heads for once? Maybe I want Italian. Or Chinese.

And it’s like, hello. Obviously this is where you took your ex-kidnapped victims too. That pile of muddy sweaters and hair bows is a dead giveaway.

What? I’m not special enough to take to a new hideout? Pfft. Swamp monsters. Am I right, ladies?

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Your Time Travel Device Does Not Impress Me

Gentleman of the engineering department, I applaud all the hard work and long hours you’ve put into building this time travel device. After 14 long months, BioInnoGenFutureAdvanTech Inc. (BIGFAT), has succeeded in our mission to build the first viable, in-home time travel device.

This technology works flawlessly – easily transporting individuals from one point in time and space to another (and back again). Furthermore, your precision ensures that time placement is accurate right down to both the second and the centimeter.

Having said that, ARE YOU GUYS FREAKING SERIOUS!? This is the best you could do? You actually think I can sell this pile of junk to the American public? I mean, sure, I could sell a white fur coat to a bunny rabbit, and I even found a way to sell all those Bear Attack Simulators you guys came up with last fall, but this? THIS!?

Yes, technologically the thing works fine. I instantly zipped right back to 1992, bought a 2-liter of Crystal Pepsi from Eckerd Drug  with my pre-Sacagewea silver dollar, and zipped right back here with no lost limbs or other ill side effects. But when it comes to doing things right, that’s ALL this product has going for it.

No, I’m afraid the abysmal design of this product is far too horrendous. For one, it looks nothing like the time machine devices you see in the movies. It’s a box. A simple metal box with a time dial on the front. BORING.

People don’t want big, clunky boxes sitting in their guest rooms or garages! They want a sleek, sexy TIME MACHINE! Where are the whirring gizmos? Where are the flashing lights? Where is the steam-powered engine!?

Also, there’s no cup holder. I mean, sure, it only took 0.01 milliseconds to reach my time destination, but during that brief moment, my hand was incredibly cold from holding my Crystal Pepsi!

People want cup holders – especially women. Did you know that number of cup holders is more important to a female car shopper than total number of horsepower!? Of course you didn’t. You’re just a bunch of eggheads who know how to bend the laws of space and time.

Well I’ll tell you something: all the physics and advanced calculus in the world couldn’t save this piece of trash from being a marketable consumer product.

I couldn’t even give these things away. Which, I’m told we could probably do because the technology is so ridiculously inexpensive, we could install them for free in people’s homes and still make money off the patent rights.

I’m sorry. No. Shut it down – pull the plug. I’m afraid the only thing left to do is to burn the design plans and bash this overgrown paperweight in with a couple of Louisville Sluggers. Maybe at least we can recoup some of our losses by stripping this box and selling it for scrap metal.

Here are your bats – get to it. And when you’re done, go ahead and get to work on that gas-powered unicycle I dreamt about last night. It’ll work because it’s my idea – and I like my ideas because I am the BIGFAT CEO and I know what I’m talking about. Trust me, the gas-icycle is going to change the way the world travels. So start building.

And guys, this time, DON’T FORGET THE FREAKING CUP HOLDER!

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How to Become a Princess

It’s every little girl’s dream (also mine) to one day become a princess. And why not? As princess, you would have the cushiest job in the world. We’re talking living in a sweet castle, wearing pretty ball gowns all the live long day, and continuously being told how beautiful you are by your royal subjects (now that’s the life). Also, if anyone cheeses you off, well then off with their heads.

If you think becoming a princess is nothing but a pipe dream, think again. It does happen. In fact, a buddy of mine achieved feminine royalty just last week. And just like I didn’t wait around for an invite to come stay at my buddy’s new Romanian castle (indefinitely), you shouldn’t sit around waiting for Prince Charming to show up at your one-bedroom apartment.

So turn off that episode of Gilmore Girls and get cracking. You’ve got to get out there if you want to make your dreams come true. Here are a few ways to become a princess and live your dreams of becoming a tyrannical spoiled brat:

Marry a Prince

Surely you’ve thought to yourself, “If I could just MEET a prince, I could do my Joy Behar impression and he’d instantly fall madly in love with me.” And yes, this would almost certainly work. But the hard part isn’t getting the prince to marry you once you meet him – it’s finding him in the first place. Here are some common ways to “bump” into a prince:

• Get invited to as many royal balls as possible
• Find out where the prince buys his groceries; hang out in the produce department
• Fall asleep in the middle of the forest, wait for Prince Charming to wake you with a kiss
• Surround yourself with dwarves. Prince’s love dwarves.
• Kiss as many toads as humanly possible
• Befriend a crab and sing about…what are they called? Feet.

Get Your Mom to Marry a King

If you’re too comely to attract the attention of a prince, maybe you could get your mother to marry a king (unless average looks run in your family). If your parents are still married, then go ahead and get rid of that nobody father of yours. Try Photoshopping him into an extramarital affair (the gayer the better) and showing the pictures to your mom. Then, help her rebound with the bachelor king of your choice. Tip: kings want one thing in a woman – fertility. So get your mom good and pregnant.

Start Your Own Country

Screw men. Who needs them? If you trek out on your own, you can start your own country and give yourself the title of “President Queen Princess.” Of course, you’ll have to find a plot of land that isn’t already part of another country. Antarctica is a good option (and an ice castle would be super cool). Or, you could simply row out into uncharted waters, drop an anchor and decree your raft a new country (may I suggest Raftlandia?). Either way, bring penguins with you so they can serve you fish and fan you with palm leaves (note: also bring palm leaves).

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