The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘weird’

Attn: Ellen (7/11/18)

Front

Ellen357a

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

Ellen356b

 

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

I like this picture because at first you see the feet and think, ‘oh weird’ then you see the arm and think ‘AHH!’

Sorta like a first date red flag reveal.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com
OR @DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

 

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The Little Bus, With the Little Passenger

If you are a frequent visitor to my blog then you are aware that my wife and I have a kiddo, and he was born about 7 weeks early. This has led to my wife and I being quite interested in all things preterm (we’re part of a select club you know).

Recently, an article in the journal Science talked about some findings … given that I’m not brainy or enthused enough to read every Science journal (a more ambitious and time-well-utilized version of myself would) … I read a dumbed down article about it from the New York Times.

It ended with this paragraph,

It is almost as though the molecular message being sent by RNA “is a little bus that travels back and forth and is letting Mom know what’s going on,” Dr. Cheng said.  “I bet you they’re going to find that the mother’s going to respond. There’s a conversation going on. That’s what’s cool.”

(RNA is what is looked at by this blood test.)

***

Hi, I’m Gary. I drive the bus that a mother and fetus use to talk to each other and it’s amazing and incredible and whatever, but guys. It is also disgusting.

You know how pregnant women have their ‘water.’ And when it’s go time the water breaks and oh a miracle and blah blah?

You know that water is partially baby urine, right? And that sick baby is drinking that urine?

Do you know what it’s like communicating with a urine drinker? I’LL TELL YOU! IT’S GROSS. Their breath is just … weird. And they have this distinct, ‘as soon as this conversation is over … I’m gonna drink more urine’ look on their faces. It’s weird.

And those little guys are INTENSE. Their hearts beat like … I don’t know, 160 beats per minute? Imagine the tiniest person you know on crack, drinking urine. That’s a baby. ‘Hey look man, I just discovered this, check it out!’ Then the baby goes and like strangles itself with the umbilical cord for a while, all the while staring right at me. Blech. It’s terrifying.

And you know who I haven’t even mentioned yet? The mother. My God the mother. ‘Oh I’m a dad and my wife is more emotional these days and wah wah wah.’ OH YEAH, PAL!? TRY DRIVING A BUS INSIDE SOMEONE WHOSE HORMONES LIKE JUST TOOK LSD AND HEADED TO THE TOWN CARNIVAL.

Seriously. It’s like, you show up and say, ‘hey, baby says maybe 7 weeks to go and it’s digging all the kale you’ve been eating lately, but also it wants you to eat ice cream out of a plastic bag.’ And the mom is like, ‘my little darling angel’ all cooing with love and then the mom thinks about all the plastic garbage floating in the ocean and she starts crying and then the mom thinks about how salty her tears are and wants McDonald’s fries and then she’s SO, SO ANGRY AND I DON’T KNOW WHY.

So you get the message from the mom which is … you know, mixed, and you take it back to old urine mouth.

It’s just.

I don’t know man.

I wish one of the white blood cells would hang out with me sometime, those guys are cool.

Farewell, Sneakers

One day in college I sat down at a dining table where a friend was already sitting. He had a spoon and a yogurt in front of him. My friend, as far as I know, was not high. But he looked at the spoon and said, “Made in China. This spoon was made in China. This spoon has done more traveling than I have.”

Today I say farewell to my traveling pals, and shoes that I otherwise wore out all the time. They’ve been to India, Colombia, Peru and work (work more so than the others).

In their old age they had adapted a few friendly practices. For example, ‘smell holes.’ These were holes in the bottom of the shoes to let out any sweaty feet smells … they had the unintended consequence of making this shoes miserable if you wore them on a rainy day. But hey, nevertheless, great innovative idea shoes and I applaud your self-initiative in opening up those holes without first checking with me.

Another thing that one of the shoes was testing (I assume it was a test to prove the worthiness of this idea before the other shoe adopted it) – ‘efficiency optimizer.’ This was where one of the shoes was slowly starting to come apart at the seams, encouraging me to pick the most efficient route whenever I wore them. Good thinking, shoe!

Goodbye old friends.

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If I Was a Spy

Interrogator: We can do this the hard way … or the easy way.

Me: I’d like to hear a bit more about both options, please.

Interrogator: Well the easy way involves a nice, tall glass of milk and a doughnut and the hard way (Laughs darkly) … Well, it doesn’t.

Me: What type of doughnut?

Interrogator: … Listen. You’re paying attention to the wrong details.

Me: I said. What. Type. Of. Doughnut.

Interrogator: I ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE!

Me: Well maybe head to the backroom and ask what type of doughnut, eh chief?

Interrogator: No. We will torture you, or you will tell us what we want to know.

Me: Are you saying the milk and doughnut were a ruse?

Interrogator: Oh my God. Can someone else step in here? It’s like dealing with my child.

Me: Are you saying your child is out there somewhere, right now, eating a doughnut?

Interrogator 2: Ok Phil, let me take over.

Me: A guy named PHIL was going to torture me? That’s embarrassing for everybody.

Interrogator 2: I just ate a delicious doughnut, and now … I’m going to torture you.

Me: That had absolutely zero tension-building. Just awful … What type of dougnut?

Interrogator 2: Jelly filled.

Me: Oh gross. You want to torture me? Make me eat one of those. Blech.

Interrogator 2: You don’t like jelly filled? Are you crazy? Those are the best.

Me: Dude. No. Maple long john, not filled.

Interrogator 2: Oh sick. You’re a sick, sick man. I can’t torture this man … he’s already broken.

Fin

Epilogue: I escape, and go eat a doughnut.

 

 

 

 

Is Your Body an Extremist?

Recently I woke up around 1030 pm (both my wife and I had gone to bed a bit after 8 – PARTY!) and my clothes were soaked with sweat, as was the pillow I have between my knees, and my pj’s. It was … gross. BUT! My fever was gone, I felt great compared to how I was feeling when I went to bed.

After changing clothes, putting a towel down over my side of the bed (seriously … so much sweat), I laid back down and went to sleep.

But … aren’t fevers crazy?

Your Body: ‘Ok, we’ve got a code yellow. I repeat a code yellow. We have some intruders and we’re going to need to combat this so we feel good.’

Creepy, Dark-Hooded Phantom in the Corner: ‘Burn them.’

Your Body: ‘Uh … I mean … we’ve got lots of different blood cells, maybe we just concoct the right mix of -‘

Creepo: (Smiles) ‘Burn them all.’

Your Body: ‘Nah man, you’re not listening.’

Creepo: ‘Do you feel that?’

Your Body: ‘Wait! How are you doing this? Why are we so warm?’

Creepo: ‘No one likes it when the temp is set to 102!’

Your Body: ‘You’re perfectly freaking right no one likes it. Ahhh. I feel miserable!’

Creepo: ‘Yes. YES!’

Your Body: ‘How am I so cold? Quick! Blankets, all the blankets!’

 

Look, I’m no scientist, but this is how I figure it happens. There’s some pyromaniac living inside you who decides to just light the whole place up whenever something is amiss. 

Psychotic, huh?

Hey Fig Newtons

Hey Fig Newtons … you still exist? I honestly don’t know, and I think it’s because you’re not nearly topical or EXTREME enough in your advertisements.

Let me help you out.

Ad 1

Air Donald Trump’s infamous Mexicans/rapists line

Fade to black

Air a modern day Nazi rally

Fade to black

White text on black screen: ‘Racism is alive and well in America’

Fade to black

Show a Fig Newton with friendly text underneath, ‘Try a Fig Newton!’

Ad 2

We see an armed child walking toward a school, an NRA spokesperson cheers wildly, suddenly an oversized Fig Newton falls from the sky and crushes both of them.

Fade to black

White text on black screen: ‘Problems?’

Show a Fig Newton with friendly text underneath, ‘JUST FIG NEWTON THEM!’

Ad 3

Show a starving polar bear, dying

Show the upward trend of global temperatures over the last few years

Show a puppy, just to confuse people

Then a shot of the most recent Houston flooding

White text on black screen: ‘Your grandkid’s grandkid’s are doomed’

Show a Fig Newton with friendly text underneath, ‘No one’s ever overdosed on Fig’

Fig-Newtons-Stacked.jpg

Source: Wikipedia (my old friend)

 

 

What’s in Their Beards?

Watching NHL playoff hockey, you see a few beards. And, occasionally they show a fella sitting on the bench licking his lips and perhaps … the old flavor saver?

That has NHL fans everywhere wondering …

WHAT’S! IN! THEIR! BEARDS!

Alexander Ovechkin – He actually has a Russian doll of beards, and is savoring the taste of a smaller beard (and I bet you’ll never guess what’s inside that tinier beard!)

LeBeard Grovtuskinovich – Famous half-French, half-Russian hockey player who once said after a game, ‘I dropped my ham.’ Sure enough, an 8 pound ham was found on the ice.

Joe Thornton 2016.jpg

 

Joe Thornton (retired) – David Sedaris, the author, actually lives in his beard and makes him delightful French pastries. It’s one of nature’s weirdest symbiotic relationships (Thornton provides Sedaris with whimsical thoughts).

Sidney Crosby – Play-Doh. Is he great at hockey? Undeniably. Does he desperately need a therapist? And then some.

P. K. Subban

 

 

P.K. Subban – No snacks here. No sir. Instead it’s a small index card with reminders of stuff white people like. Wait. Wait just a minute! Subban, you trickster! He also has an assortment of cheeses to help calm his white teammates when they get too riled.

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