The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘baby’

Tough Interview Question

I read that one way to have someone prove their ability to communicate difficult concepts in an easy to understand manner is to ask a question like, “how would you explain a website that is http versus a website that is https to your grandmother.”

First, you may have to familiarize yourself with the technical intricacies of the difference because wait … what does http even stand for? I mean I know s is secure or … like … security but … How does the internet work!?

Anywho, I thought of a question I would ask if I was conducting an interview of someone who I didn’t like because I felt he or she was too cocky: “How would you explain how babies are conceived to your grandmother?” Then when the person insists that their grandma knows or that the question has no relevance for being a clerk at a grocery store I would simply state, “If you want the job,” then I would pause for dramatic effect, “then explain to me, as though I am your grandmother, where babies come from. I went to a Catholic high school so … don’t mind me taking copious notes.”

Baby Comedy Routine

Hey folks, how are we all doing tonight? Good?

Ok, ok …

So listen, a few months ago, before I was born, I remember saying, “hey, lady, mother figure, am I right?, I’m like, hey, can’t a guy get a little more WOMB in here?”

No, but seriously, that place she had me staying was awful. It was cramped. It was warm. The food was like paste. It reminds me of a hotel where I stayed in JERSEY. OHHHH. Just kidding, just kidding, New Jersey’s great, I’ve got family out there.

I hope they STAY there!

Heyyyy! Come on! We’re all friends here, ok? Ok.

Anyway back when I was still in the womb, the hotel womb, right, so I would practice my set. Practice, practice, practice, right? But here’s the thing – management there was tough. I remember I started, day 1, and all I did was WORK. You know my first water break was NINE MONTHS into the job.

I’m kidding of course. I loved it there.

So uh … Tough crowd … This room’s gonna need a diaper change.

(Drops mic, exits stage via someone coming out and picking him up and carrying him off)

Attn: Ellen (2/8/12)

Front


Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

You ever have one of those weeks where you’re happily dancing on a could and then babies riding giant swords attack you?

Emotionally, I mean. Not literally.

Am I the only one that feels that way?

Sincerely weird,
DumbFunnery.com