Weird Stuff

I doubt anyone who has a job aspires to someday work at a place with “hut” in the name. I only know of three huts: Pizza Hut, Sunglass Hut, and Pita Hut. I might be missing some, but I’m pretty confident none of them are named “Constitutional Law Hut,” or “Anesthesiology Hut.” I would rather get legal advice or medical care from someone in an actual hut, than in a place that isn’t a hut but calls itself one. It’s fine if you actually work out of a hut. Maybe you’ve got a Santa Fe alterna-tribal thing going on, like the name you gave yourself has all consonants and you cured my chronically itchy ears with an exotic putty. Continue…

Dunkin Donuts – 8am and I’m going on 3 hours of sleep.

The tile in the bathroom of this Dunkin Donuts is the same as the rest of the floor. Nothing says “I don’t care about ambiance”  more than continuing the tile flooring straight from the eating area to the defecation zone. Actually, is that common? Now I feel like I don’t know if that’s normal or not. Shouldn’t it at least be a different color, so we can separate ourselves emotionally from the two places? I have a certain mood while I’m eating, and I need that mood to morph quite a bit when I visit the facilities. Continue…

Thank God I live with insane people. My wife just barged into my office at 9:45am to tell me this:

“Oh my God, Silas just invented a new dance move, I think it could really catch on.”

I took off my headphones to hear the rest.

“You know how there’s raise the roof, right?”

“I’m familiar with it,” I said. She was stoked enough to give me a demonstration anyway.

“OK.” She had to catch her breath from excitement, “Silas just invented ‘Cut the Roof.’ It’s like raise the roof, but it’s a cutting motion instead of a raising motion. It’s like you’re cutting open a bag of confetti over your head.”

From what I could tell by her demo, “Cut the Roof” appears to be more of a frenetic chopping motion, like someone with machetes desperately trying to clear over-hanging vines. Continue…

Stuck to the back of a minivan was a bumper sticker in the shape of a bone that read: “I love my Granddog” I saw this during the first 30 minutes of a 4 hour drive. I spent the next 3 hours and 30 minutes asking myself “WHAT THE HELL IS A GRANDDOG?!” I actually yelled that to myself alone in the car. Here are the possibilities as I see them.

Possibility 1:

The person driving the car had a daughter who was, by some freak genetic mishap, born a canis familiaris (dog). That dog (the driver’s daughter) had a child of her own (with another dog? Continue…

After a little Internet investigation and a short call to Munich city hall, I was able to pull out these details about the young Willy Wonka. I’m in a bit of a hurry, so I haven’t been able to fact check these or put them in chronological order.

  1. He briefly attended Antwerp Technical College where his nickname was “Sticky” (origin unknown).
  2. He was a founding member of “Willy’s Wooden Shoe”, a popular sketch group in Berlin. It was there that he developed a character he called “Verkrüppelt” (loosely translated as “The Gimp”). He appeared on stage as a crippled older man, only to surprise the audience later with various acrobatic feats.
  3. Continue…

My friend Jeremy has a great policy: If you’re going to call in sick to work, make it something your boss will be too scared or embarrassed to question. He has used “I have to get my lung drained” on multiple occasions. The response is usually, “Oh God, take as much time as you need.” BINGO. Here are some more suggestions. Try them out and let me know how they worked for you.

  • Organ rejections. “My body is rejecting the pig aorta I got when I was 17. Did you know I had a heart defect that caused me to need a pig aorta?
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My name is Barney The Pink (Von Hossenfeffer) and I’m a dead pirate. I’ve been waiting a long time to write this. If you’re expecting me to say things like “aye matey”, “shiver me timbers” or any of that other crap, you’re gonna be disappointed. We never talked like that. I don’t know where it came from, but I blame Robert Louis Stevenson. That might be the wrong person. I can’t read.

There are so many misconceptions about us. First off, why do you think we all dressed like Beethoven? That’s all from this Captain Hook character you have, right? I should sue over that guy, all dressed like a harpsichord playing ghost on Scooby Doo. Continue…

I’m 22 years old livin’ in Idaho and I wake up everyday thankin’ G to the OD that we don’t belong to Britain anymore. Here’s my awesome reasons.

  1. Are you guys allowed to blow shit up in your backyard? Oh right, you don’t have backyards. Good luck not blowing off your finger while setting off a Roman Candle on your faggy Juliet Balcony.
  2. Your country is old as shit. That’s why you’re so boring. You ever meet an old person? They have no idea how to party. The US of A is  21 years old today AND EVERY DAY. That’s why we’re constantly  gettin’ our rage on.
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Executive producer Gerry Marshall claims to have come up with the concept of Mork and Mindy during a phone call with an ABC executive. Here’a the transcript of that phone call in 1977:

  • Teddy (fake name given to ABC executive): Teddy here.
  • Marshall: Teddy, I’ve got a young comic. He’s hairy, full of energy and mega weird and he killed every single show at the Comedy Store this weekend. Standing ovations. I wanna do something with him.
  • Teddy: Wow, sounds out of this world.
  • Marshall: Did you say  out of this world?
  • Teddy: Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
  • Marshall: Alien researcher from a another planet ?
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I spent the morning at Home Depot starin’ at stuff.  Then I got all bored so I called my friend Steve who’s workin’ on his Fiero in his garage and went over there and drank a shit ton a beers. His wife made nachos and wings, and I ate the shit outta those too. His kids are old but they came and hung out a little. His son is cool as shit and knows more about cars than him or I do.  I stayed there a couple hours till I got all antsy. Plus Steve’s wife was lookin’ at me all pissed off like she wanted me to leave, so I put my shirt back on and got the hell outta there. Continue…