Tag: comedy

It’s never too early for a father to begin sabotaging his daughter’s dating prospects

This is the only prom knight I will give my consent to when it comes to my daughter and dating. I am forging a cod piece as we speak. No cod piece, no date.
I had a frightening dream last night. In it, I was wearing an alpine yodeler outfit. The kind with the brown shorts, the white knee-high socks, and the little cap with the feather in it.

Wait, it gets scarier.

I was on vacation with my family. Our kids were older, and my daughter had a boyfriend with her. A space ship landed, and an alien came out yodeling the theme from “Close Encounters.” My wife was calling to me, trying to be heard over the yodeling alien, when I finally heard her cry out in utter desperation:

The cat likes to play checkers.

As you might expect, I woke up in a cold sweat, unable to shake that vivid, terrifying image of—that’s right:

My daughter with a boyfriend.

True, she’s only 11 years old right now. But time passes quickly, and in another 15 years she’ll begin dating. To me, this dream was a clear indication that I should begin preparing myself for the inevitable. When I explained this to my wife, she laughed.

Hard.

I’ve seen drunken pirates with more emotional restraint. Continue reading It’s never too early for a father to begin sabotaging his daughter’s dating prospects

Never had food poisoning? Thank a humor columnist

Something every professional journalist should have: A current Food handler’s Card.
Being a journalist, I naturally have journalist friends who, whenever we get together, want to talk about (yawn) heady issues facing the nation and the world. This is done in a discussion format similar to “Meet the Press,” except that our debates are often interrupted by someone’s beer getting knocked over. Aside from that, it’s just like the show on TV. As you can imagine, our exchanges get pretty heated as each of us presents an important topic of debate.

What is our stance on the Middle East?

Should we overhaul social security?

How do we deal with North Korea?

Or, as I challenged:

Why does the new Bugs Bunny look like he’s been shooting steroids with Jose Canseco?

That’s usually when our debate comes to a screeching halt and I’m forced, once again, to defend my journalistic integrity by explaining the value of what I do, then underscoring it by offering to pay for everyone’s beer. Continue reading Never had food poisoning? Thank a humor columnist

Avoiding the destruction of Earth could come down to a good paint job

Haven’t we seen this movie?
Scientists and Mayans tell us it’s only a matter of time before the Earth is destroyed. Possibly as soon as Dec. 21. Probably by a giant asteroid — whichever comes first. This of course would lead to a cataclysmic event unleashing tidal waves, earthquakes, 6,000 years of winter, and, theoretically, mankind’s final offering as an evolved species:

Survivor: Oh great—now what?

Scientists warn that the only way to avoid total extinction would be to somehow divert the offending asteroid into a different orbit, therefore altering its path into a collision course with something less vital, like, say… New Jersey. Continue reading Avoiding the destruction of Earth could come down to a good paint job

Your decomposing pumpkin could threaten mankind

This weekend, watch for falling pumpkins.
I left the house this morning and made an important realization: What I had assumed was a fleece-lined, bright orange sweatshirt laying crumpled on the front steps was actually NOT a garment at all.

It was our jack-o-lantern.

This realization was made while attempting to pick it up. Though my intention was to give my children a stern lecture on taking care of their clothing, I decided instead to scream uncontrollably after grabbing a handful of pumpkin mucus. Somehow, our pumpkin’s aging process had accelerated, causing it to collapse in on itself and sprout white fur — literally — overnight.

This isn’t an isolated incident. Anyone who hasn’t disposed of their jack-o-lantern by now has witnessed this process, which we can all agree defies the natural laws of physics. One morning, your pumpkin’s face is triangle-eyed and gap-toothed as normal. The next morning, it is Buddy Hackett. Continue reading Your decomposing pumpkin could threaten mankind

Nowadays, the womb is no place for slackers

Unless your baby looks like this, he or she could be a slacker.
Parents used to be satisfied with sonogram images of their child developing in the womb, even though, for all we knew, we were actually watching video footage of a school of mackerel on a depth finder.

“And if you look closely, you can see your baby … right … about … whoops! It’s gone. Something must’ve scared it.”

The doctor would then print copies of these images, which we carried in our wallets to share with family, friends, and anyone unfortunate enough to make brief eye contact. At the end of nine months, the only real expectation any of us had for our child was that they come out headfirst. Laughably, we actually felt it was enough for them to grow from a microscopic egg into a full-fledged human child within nine months.

Those babies, of course, were total slackers. Continue reading Nowadays, the womb is no place for slackers

Cold medicine: The key to true introspection

As if being sick wasn’t bad enough, my laptop burst into flames while I was on the commode. Ask Tina Fey — she saw the whole thing.
I’d like to start by apologizing for this column.

Technically speaking, I’m still writing it. However, given the volume of cold medication I have consumed, and keeping in mind that I have finally given in and, as a time saving measure, moved my workstation to the commode, there’s a good chance my current location is exactly where this column is headed. Making matters worse, the laptop I’m using is about 10 years old. Getting it open was like shucking a Pismo clam. After opening it, I realized it’s the very same model that caused panic aboard a flight to Miami when it overheated and singed the thighs of an intoxicated businessman.

True, I am not on a plane. Yet there are still some frightening similarities:

I am under the influence of Codeine.

I am in a seated position.

And if this morning was any indication, I won’t be leaving my seat for the next few hours. Continue reading Cold medicine: The key to true introspection

Investigating the latest crisis: Flamin’ Hot Cheeto addiction

I thought I was nearly undetectable in my “school teacher” disguise; obviously, I was wrong.
Being a journalist can be dangerous. Especially when it involves middle schoolers and their snack food. I knew this when I approached my editor, who can also be dangerous, particularly when her candy drawer is found empty, even though she keeps it locked with a key hidden in a folder labeled Extra Work for Reporters.

In spite of this danger, I asked if I could go undercover to investigate what Fox News reported as “a growing crisis in schools across the country — and we’re pretty sure that country is somewhere in the U.S.”

What I’m talking about, of course, is the growing crisis of “Flamin’ Hot Cheetos” addiction.

According to an article in the Chicago Tribune, a teacher in New Mexico wants to ban Flamin’ Hot Cheetos from school due to the snack’s complete lack of nutritional value and its addictive nature.

“But Twinkies are fine,” she added. Continue reading Investigating the latest crisis: Flamin’ Hot Cheeto addiction

Coaching kids? Start with jelly donuts

Going downtown for a hail Mary pass into the bucket.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not very athletic. I made this realization in the third grade, when I was knocked unconscious 32 times playing dodge ball. After that first game, I remember waking up in the nurse’s office and being told of a special program for “gifted” athletes who were so special they got to wear a football helmet during recess.

Of course, I eventually figured out there was no “special program,” and openly expressed my feelings of betrayal when I slammed my helmet on the desk of my high school counselor.

After which I was taken to the hospital with a broken finger.

I live with the memory of being an unathletic child on a daily basis. Particularly when I look in the mirror and see a man whose head still fits into a third-grade football helmet. For this reason, when my daughter asked me to coach her fourth-grade basketball team, I smiled, took her hand, and began faking a seizure. I panicked at the thought of providing guidance to a team of fourth-grade girls, any one of whom could “take me to the hole.” Continue reading Coaching kids? Start with jelly donuts

Whatever …

I started to read this story, then thought: “Eh, who cares.”

Product placement…?

While looking for the last box of Count Chocula cereal, I documented proof that product placement isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. I don’t think I’ll ever look at cinnamon toast or Mary Lou the same again.