The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘Weekly Wacko’

What’s the Deal with Traffic?

Today I was driving and, oh man, you’ll laugh, guess what happened!? I got STUCK … in traffic!

Zounds! Am I right?

Here’s where it gets crazy though. I had a somewhat terrible thought. I’ve noticed that I’ve had this thought in the past and I didn’t think much about it, but today it really struck me.

Painting the Picture

I’m driving along, la la la, happy times. Then the red lights of anger come on in front of me and the folks on the road go from about 65 mph to 20ish mph. Then we alternate between stopped and going a few miles per hour.

Classic traffic scenario. We’ve all been there. But wait, there’s more.

Eventually the pace picks up some and we’re cruising along consistently at about 15 to 20 mph.

Some time after that I notice a car pulled over on the shoulder. Aha! The redeeming grace of traffic jams (be sure to pack your peanut butter and bread folks, there’s a TRAFFIC JAM out there! ah ha ha ha!) – the curiosity would now be satisfied. There is no faster mystery story you can find. Traffic jam, I beseech you, reveal your cause!

It’s … This car is just … It has it’s blinkers on and it’s just pulled over. Maybe a flat or something, I don’t know, but it looks fine. And traffic is picking up and we’re … We’re out of it.

Seriously? That’s IT!?

THAT’S what caused all this delay?! REALLY?

***

What’s the concern? What was the bad thought?

All that … For a stinking van on the side of the road? I mean, come on! At least have a small fire coming from under the hood or something! Maybe someone running out of the car, ON FIRE … That’d be cool.

Let me be clear – I don’t want anyone to have been hurt. I want it to be like an old episode of the GI Joes. Just watch the intro to GI Joes and you’ll see what I mean.

Look at that, so many bullets fired, tanks, helicopters, you name it, all coming at each other … And not a single person hurt. Maybe some scraped knees from people bailing out of an exploding tank (that’s some trick). If there’s bad traffic, I want the cause to be some GI Joe-esque fight scene. Except, you know, don’t hold up traffic too much.

The last thing we need is an unruly Roadblock …

HEYO!! (Psst, non-GI Joe people, Roadblock is a GI Joe. And he’s got something important to tell you.)

Holy crap, what a frightening PSA.

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Weekly Wacko

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Charlie Sheen’s Most Popular Body Part

We live in a strange, strange world my friends.

About two years ago all of the Charlie Sheen craziness was happening. (You know, when he said stuff like, “Dying is for fools. Amateurs.” This website has a number of his gems.) I took the opportunity to write a silly blog post (because I do that about everything, anyway) and it has led to a really unexpected result.

My blog post talked about Charlie Sheen’s different body parts using crazy phrases (it was a ton of fun to write). One of the body parts was, “You Know …” and the accompanying tag was “Charlie Sheen’s penis.” Here’s what I said about that body part:

Try this on for size – Charlie as a whole is an F-16. Ok. Fine. That’s good. Know what I am? I am your recurring nightmare wrapped in silk and piloting the Death Star without even trying and when I do try, man, you have to watch out because life. can’t. handle. this. Ohmigod I just invented gravity again. Now it travels at 9.9 meters per second squared. Feel heavier? Sorry, deal with it. I already adjusted and broke all Carl Lewis’ records in track and field.

Oh, two year ago self, how innocent and naive you were. Take a look at this weird result. These are search terms that have led people to my blog.

Charlie Sheen penis

At least whoever wanted to see a quokka had their request satisfied.

I’m not sure when it started, because I only recently started looking at the search terms that led to my blog on a somewhat-regular basis. But here are the results, as of today:

  • charlie sheen penis – 37
  • charlie sheen’s penis – 33
  • charlie sheens penis – 25
  • charlie sheen’s dick – 11
  • charlie sheen cock – 11
  • charlie sheen penis pic – 9
  • charlie sheen dick pic – 7
  • charlie sheen cock pic – 6
  • charlie sheens dick – 6
  • charlie sheen penis pictures – 5
  • charlie sheen penis picture – 5
  • charlie sheen cock pics – 5
  • charlie sheens cock – 5
  • charlie sheen penis shot – 4
  • pictures of charlie sheen’s penis – 4
  • charlie sheen’s penis picture – 3
  • picture of charlie sheen’s cock – 3
  • charlie sheens penis pic – 3
  • picture of charlie sheen dick – 3
  • charlie sheen dick pics – 3

Ok, I had to stop. This is really weird. My blog is not popular AT ALL and yet people type this in and end up coming to my blog? Really? My blog is not first page of results material unless you include “dumbfunnery” in your search. How weird are people?

I realize this post will probably lead even more misguided internet weirdos to my blog, but you know what?, maybe this will be their wake up call (doubtful, but it’ll get me more hits).

I’m feeling very disturbed. I’m going to go watch cartoons and pretend I live in a simpler, nicer world.

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Weekly Wacko

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Yogatta Do This

Last week I attended my first ever yoga class. It was interesting.

When I got there the lights in the room were dimmed and two ladies were on yoga mats in the back of the class. They had removed their shoes and were laying there sort of stretching/sort of relaxing. I followed their lead.

When my friend Airplanes got to class she whispered questions to me. I jokingly said, “huh? … HUH!? …” then loudly, “WHAT?!” Airplanes told me that in some classes you don’t speak at all. Whoops.

The class had about eight people in it, about half the class was in their 20s/30s and the other half 50s/60s. And I was the only guy.

The instructor came in and began some crazy talk about the Earth and the Sun and what have you. I was hopeful I would hear a lot of crazy and would be entertained by it, but it was just a steady dose of mildly crazy. Hippy-light. She was good at the soothing tones, but a few things stuck out as funny to me.

Cat Yoga

One of the poses we did was called the Cow. Another, the Cat. For those you pose like you’re a parent and your kid wants to ride a horsey and you are that horsey. So saddle up, buttercup! Then for the cow you do … something … And for the cat you do something else … I really don’t know what. She kept saying so many things so quickly, “inhale and bring your navel to your spine and raise the crown of your head and your navel is at your spine and you’re relaxing and now bring your tailbone UP … and you’re exhaling and …” Meanwhile I would’ve taken ten breaths during this time period. Was I expected to breathe in and hold it for that long? That’s insanity.

To help us with the cat posed she told us to picture an angry cat, how their spine is arched, and we can be that angry cat. Come on … How’s that not funny? A woman in her 50s walking around whisper-telling you to be an angry cat? That’s fantastic.

Fetal position yoga

Now imagine this with someone whispering to you how to be more fetal.

For just about every move (except the one where I laid flat on my back), I felt like I was doing things wrong. But the instructor only corrected me twice.

Once, at the start, we were sitting doing the “Indian stretch” (I’m sure there’s a more appropriate name for it), and we were supposed to have our backs straight. The instructor walked behind me, put her knee gently into my back to straighten it, and whispered, “move your feet further from your groin.”

Let me tell you, that’s a weird thing to have whispered to you.

My theory is that I was so far off on a number of positions that the instructor just didn’t bother to correct me. How bad am I at Yoga? Well …

The other time I was corrected was when I messed up the fetal position. We started by laying flat on our backs, then raising our knees so our feet were flat on the ground. Then we put the right arm out, and slowly moved our hip to put the knees to the ground on your right side. Throughout class, unless it was impossible, I would try to look at the instructor or other people to see what I should be doing. I raised my head to make sure I was doing everything right (because the idea that we would just lay in the fetal position was weird to me, so I thought maybe it was some kind of Yoga variation on the fetal position … nope). Right when I raised my head the instructor happened to be beside me, she leaned in close and whispered, “put your cheek on your bicep … and your left hand by your heart.” I put my head down and grinned like an idiot.

Hoighty Toighty

I went to a fancy wedding and a girl actually played this mini-xylophone type thing. I giggled and asked to take her picture. I had been drinking.

With just a minute or two left in class the instruct got out a little bell and rang it. The noise filled the air. I thought maybe there was going to be some door opening up and a hoighty-toighty dinner would be waiting. But nope. Everyone else continued to lay there peacefully so I followed suit. Apparently a ringing bell is an indication to keep doing exactly what you had been doing.

We got back into the first position (lotus – which I can definitely not do) and the instructor said some more happy thoughts and then the, “namaste.”

Namaste Gumby Man

Namaste, Gumby

If you haven’t done yoga and this is your first exposure to it … I’m sorry. This is a terrible introduction. Give it a whirl, but don’t expect much if you’re as inflexible as I am. I think it could be a good workout, but next time I need to stretch out a bunch before class. I may look like Gumby but I’m nowhere near as flexible.

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