Tag: funny

Don’t let your Thanksgiving turkey become memorable for the wrong reasons

imageThe countdown has begun. Before long, thousands will be in the kitchen preparing their very first Thanksgiving turkey. As a service to readers, I felt a responsibility to help educate people about foodborne illness by offering a special holiday feature that I’d like to call:

Don’t lose your giblets this Thanksgiving.

Being a writer, I’ve naturally spent a good portion of my career working in the food service industry. And like most writers, it was there that I was able practice my craft and eventually acquire something that ALL good writers must have: A Food Handler’s Card.

Because of this, I can stand before you as someone highly qualified to talk turkey.

So let us begin. Continue reading Don’t let your Thanksgiving turkey become memorable for the wrong reasons

Another performance that took me 90 seconds or less

image Tomorrow night, I and the other six remaining nominees in the “Performance of the Year” competition at The Public Blogger will reveal the results of our Fourth Challenge: “Star Turn.” And although several of us are utilizing video, as far as I know there will be no red thongs involved. At least on my end. Or front. Or whatever.

This week’s challenge required us to incorporate four things into our creation:

1) Written words (350 max)

2) Our recorded voice (60 seconds max)

3) Images created/photographed by us

4) Presentation should reveal something about why we chose to pursue our art form.

Undoubtedly, many of are breathing a sigh of relief that my chosen art form isn’t nude self-portraits, even though it would ultimately still qualify as humor. Regardless, my presentation has been submitted and will be revealed in its entirety, along with the other six nominees’ work, tomorrow night at 7 p.m. when voting goes live for this round. The total time allowed for our presentations is 90 seconds or less, which coincidentally matches my own personal best time in… well, it doesn’t really matter. Continue reading Another performance that took me 90 seconds or less

That time I should’ve called for back-up when talking turkey

During this morning’s editorial meeting, I was once again given the assignment of visiting a local turkey farm to write up a special Thanksgiving piece. If it goes anything like last year’s visit, “special” isn’t really the right word. [Cue gauzy dream sequence and harp music]…

image Over the weekend, I was the victim of an unprovoked and extremely frightening turkey attack. In my defense, there were five of them (technically known as a “gang” of turkeys) involved in the assault, which started because of my proximity to a preening female turkey, which had apparently snubbed her suitors in favor of me.

Possibly because she was confused by my chicken legs.

Whatever the reason, the male turkeys didn’t take well to this and decided the best way to handle the situation was to join forces and, one by one, take turns flapping their giant wings at my [censored]. Before I knew it, I was being circled by an agitated turkey gang and wishing my editor had assigned me to something less dangerous, like covering a Blind Axe Throwers convention. Continue reading That time I should’ve called for back-up when talking turkey

Because sometimes love can overlook a man who drives a mini van

imageNine years ago tonight, I had my first date. I was 40. It’s not that I hadn’t been on other dates in my life. It’s just that, from the very first moment we took each other’s hands, none of the others seemed to matter anymore.

Because nothing compared to this one.

The best one.

The last one I’ll ever want.

Both of us were recently divorced after long, unhappy marriages. We both had two children at home. And both of us had joined a dating website a month earlier within a few days of each other. Fate, it seemed, had already set things into motion. Nine years and one pair of wedding rings later, I’m still thanking fate each and every day…

Oct. 28, 2006:
My search for a red rose after making the hour-long drive to Salem for our first date had put me behind. Coupled with the fact that I hadn’t been on a real date in nearly 20 years, had lost 23 pounds since my divorce several months earlier, and was driving a Plymouth Voyager mini-van, I technically had four strikes against me already. Plus, after several weeks of chatting together on Match.com and long evening phone calls, she had finally posted her profile picture. When I saw it, I realized I wasn’t only in danger of striking out before our date even started:

Heck, I was batting out of my league. Continue reading Because sometimes love can overlook a man who drives a mini van

Scariest part of Halloween? Finding costumes that don’t emotionally scar your kids

image For some of you, Halloween is an exciting time that allows you to bond with your child by making their Halloween-costume dream come true.

For the rest of us, it was a time when we crossed our fingers and prayed that our child’s “Halloween costume dream” was hanging on a rack somewhere at Walmart. Because if it wasn’t, we’d have to make something, and therefore put our child’s emotional health at risk by creating a costume that could potentially scar them for life.

After more than 30 years, I still remember my mother carefully wrapping me in layer after layer of tissue in order to turn me into a frightening replica of The Mummy — and how it took less than five minutes for a light drizzle to turn me into the considerably LESS frightening Soggy Toilet Paper Man. Things weren’t much better the following year, when I dressed-up as a pirate and missed-out on all of the good candy after spending 45 minutes with my plastic hook stuck in the car door. By the time I hit the streets all that was left were Sweet Tarts and half-opened rolls of breath mints. Continue reading Scariest part of Halloween? Finding costumes that don’t emotionally scar your kids

Men: Consequences you can expect from really bad pick-up lines

(Because you can never emphasize enough the importance of avoiding these kinds of ridiculous pick-up lines, especially since my oldest daughter is now out on her own in the dating world, I decided to post this column from a couple of years ago as a public service message. Trust me: It could save lives…)

image I’ve been ridiculously happily married for almost 10 years now, so the singles bar scene is a long-forgotten memory. Or maybe just a deeply repressed one. At least it was until yesterday, when a friend came to town and invited me out for a quick beer. As we began catching up over Dos Eques, we couldn’t help but overhear a series of pick-up lines being exchanged by a group of 20-somethings who — at least in their minds, and thanks to several happy-hour pilsners each — had assembled a list of clever lines no woman could resist. Assuming, of course, the women in question were all desperate to gain U.S. Citizenship.

As a service to single men everywhere, and in particular to that group of 20-somethings once they’ve sobered up, I felt obligated to jot down some of those horrible pick-up lines and explain — through a “trial” and “error” format — what they can expect should the words actually leave their mouths in the general direction of an actual living female, intoxicated or otherwise. Continue reading Men: Consequences you can expect from really bad pick-up lines

I’d like to thank my daughter for finding Nemo — then eating him

image

As I mentioned earlier this week, I’m one of 11 nominees for Performance of the Year at The Public Blogger. While I’d like to believe it’s based on my body of work as a humorist (not the first time I’ve been told I have a funny looking body) I must recognize the fact that, had my daughter not eaten “Nemo,” I probably wouldn’t be here today. It was my third Freshly Pressed post and, by far, got the most responses. And not just from PETA. It helped put me on the Public Blogger radar — which is why I chose to include it as part of my first submission requirement to be voted on by the general public this Monday, Oct. 12 (details to come.)

We were also asked to explain, in one paragraph or less, what our art means to us (above). In truth, it really just says, “Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah… plus I get cookies.” I threw in the other stuff to sound intellectual. Continue reading I’d like to thank my daughter for finding Nemo — then eating him

Want to help kids at St. Judes? Drink your broccoli soda

image As I’m sure you can imagine, being a humor columnist, I am constantly working up a sweat. In fact, I can already feel perspiration forming. By the end of this paragraph, I will be a drippy, sweat-stained mess. Most people don’t know it can take hours to finish a column.

The reason has nothing to do with procrastination, writer’s block or even the ability to Google history of Star Wars universe; many of us humor columnists simply become too sweaty to operate our keyboards without sliding off and potentially endangering ourselves and others. Newsrooms everywhere understand this, which is why we are often placed in special cubicles that are refrigerated.

Or at the very least equipped with a drain pan.

Yet somehow, beverage companies continue to overlook us as potential thirst-quenching icons when developing trendy ad campaigns. Chances are, you’ll never see a commercial featuring a humor columnist at a keyboard with green Gatorade streaming out of every pore in his body. Or witness a humor columnist emerge from a droplet of Propel fitness water and do a back flip out of an office chair (which we often do, by the way, sometimes for no reason at all.) Continue reading Want to help kids at St. Judes? Drink your broccoli soda

Warning labels are impeding the Natural Selection process

(CAUTION: Before anyone gets hurt, I should warn you I’m actually over at Long Awkward Pause today! Feel free to get started here and then join me over at LAP. But please: No running…)

image There was a time when manufacturers included warnings on their products as a way to provide useful information that could potentially save our lives. Or, at the very least, our eyebrows and/or stomach lining.

However, that all changed more than a decade ago when McDonald’s had to serve up a McMillion dollars for the lady who didn’t realize that spilling hot coffee on yourself while behind the wheel of a car can lead to a condition commonly known as “The Open-Road Lap Dance.”

Taking a deeper look, that condition is really just an extension of the more common rule known as “Cause and effect,” which states:

‘Cause I’m dumb enough to place hot coffee next to the most vulnerable spot on my entire body, I am, in effect, going to do something even dumber by spilling it there. Probably before I leave the drive-thru.

Though the woman claimed to be unfamiliar with either of these two concepts, she WAS familiar with the judicial system, and how her coffee mishap could lead to litigation and a new home in the Hamptons. That landmark decision opened the floodgates to a barrage of wrongful injury cases aimed at sending a clear message to American businesses:

We will buy your products.
We will use your products.
And, God willing, we will hurt ourselves with your products and retire early.
(Read more at LAP!)

Things have a way of working out. Unless it involves me and the gym

The only way I'll do push-ups.
Sort of like doing a workout with Dolly Parton.
Forgive me for I have sinned: It’s been nearly two months since my last workout.

That was my thought as I entered the gym last week, ready to pay my penance in the company of those who’d kept the faith in my absence. I had my moves planned: enter quickly, cut left and directly into the weight room, bypassing the front desk and the gym’s owner — a possible “confessional” situation.

But of course I couldn’t be that lucky.

“Hey there, Ned!”

I stopped in mid-stride; so close to the pivot that would’ve carried me to freedom. “Hey, Jim,” I said, smiling meekly. Apologetically.

Jim leaned forward on the desk, dressed in his usual sweatpants and T-shirt lightly stained with perspiration after a 50-minute aerobics workout that trimmed his ballooning body fat from .08 down to .05. He looked at me and folded his hands together on the desktop, as if ready to pray for me. “Haven’t seen you for a while.” Continue reading Things have a way of working out. Unless it involves me and the gym