Category: Humour

The show we’ll never see

Austentatious.

Someone had to do it, I suppose.  I reckon I’d enjoy it. I provide the link for me mOm’s entertainment.

I made meatloaf yesterday.  In case I don’t remember the recipe, it’s a pound and a bit of regular ground beef, four tablespoons of Heinz chili sauce, a good shot of black pepper, ditto powdered garlic, an egg and almost half a cup of bread crumbs.  I think I’ll macerate an onion next time too.  Jeff proceeded to abandon the leftover Chinese food for it, so I’d say that’s a good sign.

Today, I will be putting some effort into an interview between my main character and my newly hatched CBC interviewer.

The Jazz documentary continues to dazzle, likewise Attenborough’s Blue Planet.  Wars between coral species are bizarre and disgusting.  “I barf my guts on you and digest you on the spot!”  “Aiyee! I am fixed to one spot and cannot flee!” Also, who knew there’s a colony species of shrimp? With a queen, and workers, and burly guards with extra large claws!?

I’m singing in church on Sunday, must practice some more.

 

May you find what you seek

In some cultures, that’s considered a curse.  Anyway, to the point; I am looking up stuff on Afghanistan and Persia (now Iran) because I am following information about Rumi.  Accidentally I land on the wikipedia page of the anti-Rumi, which contains a bunch of 14th Century dirty jokes.  They are at the bottom of the page, you’ve been warned, etc.  One of the jokes is so disgusting it could cheerfully be used by people who hate Muslims as propaganda.

We are watching Ken Burn’s Jazz, and it is uniformly excellent.  I wish I could have watched it with John, too.

Off to the library today.  I have a couple of other errands to run.

My request to have assistance in developing anti-racism curriculum is in the newsletter for church.

I can only wonder what my uncle, who got a PhD in Fluorine Chemistry, would make of this website mocking PhD subjects.

cold and snow

Triple amputee zombie pranks Walmart shopper.

Santa Cthulhu.

Blasted through the last of season 1 Miss Fisher last night. I have a new crush. Nathan Page gets an expression on his face when he’s looking at Essie Davis which is extremely gratifying.  Also, as I poked around the internet for more details about him everything I read about him made me think he’s probably a pretty solid customer, with extremely nice legs.

It was midnight before I was in bed… I’m trying to reset my sleep habits; going to bed at 7 is awkward.

Still no repair on internet or furnace.  Re the internet, it’s working right now but will probably quit at some point later today, and as for the furnace, there’s no record that the ducts have been cleaned since Mulroney was Prime Minister (bleaugh).

Keith posted this GEM to facebook yesterday:  I have a long distance relationship with reality, but it’s terribly awkward when we meet face to face.  Given the scansion I think it’s a Keith original.

 

A somewhat likely story

following is fictional…

 

Dad staggered away from the kitchen in an exaggeration of his normal walk.  He had grimly supported Mom through the whole ghastly process of getting the equipment through customs, and grimly supported her in the sequelae, which included about four dozen eggs on the outside of the house and a number of unpleasant encounters with the more tender hearted of their neighbours, including the one neighbour they were always having fencing discussions with, and whom they suspected of allowing access for youthful depredations.

Now the damned machine was here, and it was as if every item which had been eviscerated from his diet was now coming at him as extruded by this knitting machine of the damned.

She’d seen it in a catalog, and ever since had wanted it so.

Dad couldn’t watch.  He knew he would not be able to resist, even knowing where the meat had come from.

________

So, today there was news about knittable meat.  There was also meat you could wear and meat you could form in rainbow layers and other kinds of Modern Foods kinda meat.

I DON’T  want to know what the meat was. In the story, that is. Sometimes the depths of one’s subconscious are a small but entertaining tidal pool.

 

Unitarian humour address for canvass, circa 2002

Good evening, brothers and sisters of the Beacon community. I have been asked to present a humorous homily in a Unitarian vein, and I beg your indulgence as I outline how I approached gathering the material for this evening’s celebration of our community.

First I reviewed my previously delivered comedy routines. As one of them commences with my walking on stage half naked — I will leave to your imagination which half — you will not be surprised that I thought this inappropriate. Unitarians believe in freedom, not license.

Having dispensed with nudity as a means of encouraging people to laugh, or at least to pay attention, I then worked my way through the rest of my gags, one-liners, pithy observations, and so forth.

I made the considered decision to delete the references to sex as also being inappropriate to an intergenerational dinner. The prospect of having the children loudly explaining the jokes to their parents was too much for me.

Then I deleted all the drug references, as everyone knows that drugs are something Unitarians did years ago; we have all long since grown out of it, except for Ibuprofen, of course.

As we are eating, I thought it best to banish all scatological humour. I firmly believe that this is the best part of a family meal, but I have learned that not everyone feels the same way.

As you can imagine, this left me in something of a quandary. I had three jokes left, and while they are all reasonably funny, they didn’t take my audience into consideration.

I then resolved to visit a number of Christian humour sites, reckoning that I would find some jokes that would offend nobody. I now have proof that I am nobody, because I was offended by them. Anybody else who is offended by the inane and the sickly sweet will know exactly what I mean.

In desperation, I visited a Unitarian joke site. Of course I should have done that FIRST, but it’s traditional to check out various forms of Christianity prior to coming to Unitarianism. I came across this gem, which, is seasonal, now that Halloween is over:
(Sings)

Gods rest ye, Unitarians, let nothing you dismay; Remember there’s no evidence there was a Christmas Day; When Christ was born is just not known, no matter what they say, O, Tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact, Glad tidings of reason and fact.

Our current Christmas Customs come from Persia and from Greece, from solstice celebrations of the ancient Middle East. This whole darn Christmas spiel is just another pagan feast, O, Tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact, Glad tidings of reason and fact.

There was no star of Bethlehem, there was no angels’ song; there could not have been wise men for the trip would take too long. The stories in the Bible are historically wrong, O, Tidings of reason and fact, reason and fact, Glad tidings of reason and fact!

This little song charmed me because I believe it accurately reflects our Unitarian principles and it scans. I hate things that don’t scan.

Then I cruised around some more, and landed with this one,
Q: How many Unitarian Universalists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: …well, first you’d have to know whether it’s a fluorescent, incandescent, or halogen bulb, but even then you may have made a false assumption because not all UU’s necessarily even find electric illumination useful, or even believe in Electricity or BC Hydro, although I’d guess most BC Unitarians don’t want to see it sold, whether they believe in it or not… Did that answer your question?
(Helper in the audience. No! How many Unitarians does it take to change a light bulb?)
Well, it dePENDS. Look, I take the question seriously, but I think we should seek consensus on this one. Do you want to strike a committee?

A Christian friend of a Unitarian once remarked that UU’s tend to take a couple of months off during the summer with some churches completely closing. Other denominations might question this practice, by saying “God doesn’t take vacations.”

The response to this is that UU’s are the only ones that God trusts enough to let out of his sight for a while.

Does anybody here know what the four UU sacraments are? (Helpers in the audience.)
– Dedication,
– Marriage,
– Memorial Service,
Allegra: And, of course, Moderated Discussion

What 2 things do UU’s and Dracula have in common?
They both have origins in Transylvania and they both shy away from the cross.

I had a bit of a run-in with a Fundamentalist Christian recently. After getting increasingly irritated by my flippant responses to her dogma, she demanded, “Do you know what’s going to happen when you stand in judgment before God?”
I grinned and said, “She’s gonna have some ‘splaining to do.”

I note that the following hymn is NOT in Singing the Living Tradition; I am willing to believe that it might have been an honest error. (To the tune of Holy, Holy, Holy)

Coffee, coffee, coffee,
Praise the strength of coffee.
Early in the morn we rise with thoughts of only thee.
Served fresh or reheated,
Dark by thee defeated,
Brewed black by perk or drip or instantly.

Though all else we scoff we
Come to church for coffee;
If we’re late to congregate, we come in time for thee.
Coffee our one ritual,
Drinking it habitual,
Brewed black by perk or drip or instantly.

Coffee the communion
Of our Uni-Union,
Symbol of our sacred ground, our one necessity.
Feel the holy power
At our coffee hour,
Brewed black by perk or drip or instantly.

As I say, this should probably be in the hymnal but I am sure that it was an understandable oversight.
I would like to close my homily with a few words on the subject of the canvass.

When I first came under the benign influence of the CUC, it was at the Lakeshore Church in Montreal, with the Rev. Joan Montagnes presiding. (She’s now with a congregation in Idaho.)

When the canvass was announced, the canvass chair got up, brusquely told us that there wasn’t going to be a canvass that year, and sat down. After a brief, rustling pause, suddenly, from all over the church you could hear purses and pocketbooks snap open, making a joyful sound of thanksgiving and support. This is a sound which I hope we will all be able to hear in this community as we continue our journey of discovery and service. It is a strange quality of money that, like people, a little of it with the right intentions, in the right place, really can accomplish great things.

The standup routine known as “Jesus on the bus”.

So I’m sitting on the bus the other day and this guy gets on who looks just like Jesus.  Totally Jesus, except the burlap tunic and the halo.  I’m looking at him and thinking, sooner or later, everybody comes to Vancouver, so why not Jesus?

Then he pulls out a cell phone and I’m thinking, like, this can’t be Jesus, Jesus is in constant communication with everybody important, including me, except I don’t listen to that station any more, because I hate the ads.

You know, (sings a celestial note ‘aaah!’) “Where will you spend eternity? Get the Heavenly timeshare!” (sings a celestial note). I hate that ad. But the music isn’t bad, sometimes I listen to the music, especially when I can’t understand the words.

Anyway this guy who is obviously NOT Jesus starts talking to somebody on the phone and you know how you can always tell when a guy is talking to his mother on the phone?

Within seconds I know he’s talking to his mother, and I’m leaning forward, because if this IS Jesus, I have a couple of questions for his mom, you know, as a feminist and all.  I wanna make sure I talk to her before he hangs up because I likely won’t get another chance.  As I’m listening I realize they are discussing him going to some place in Burnaby to look at a long term care facility for his dad.

And now I’m really freaked out, because if this is Jesus, he’s talking about putting his dad in a home.  How would you prevent God from wandering if you DID put him in a home?

The poor security guard – Hey — you with the beard, get back here.

 

I have a really short attention span.  I’ve only driven away from my kids twice though, and once my husband was in the car so I had somebody to blame.

I know everybody complains about their spouse’s driving but hubby is the only driver I know who can get the airbags to go off when he’s changing lanes.  He said What?  What?  I did a shoulder check!

 

By applause, who hates it when comics ask for an audience response by saying things like “By applause, who likes Celine Dion?” or “By applause, who likes blowing cops to avoid speeding tickets?”  I hate that by applause thing.  It’s a stupid ploy to get the audience to connect to you.  You don’t WANT to connect with me, I might borrow something, like your ID.  No, you want to maintain a respectful distance, and right now you should check your purse.  I love this part, because there’s always one OCD gal who hears those magic words and checks her purse.  Ha ha!  This joke’s for you.

 

I’ve given up on buying clothes that fit.  I’m just looking for clothes that don’t make me look like Rita McNeil.  In a high wind.

 

Driving in this town has brought me closer to God than my sex life ever has.

Why, I am constantly calling upon the Lord, either to save my ass or to smite the living shit out of the clown parade we call traffic.

I’m sorry, that was mean to the clowns.

And I can’t call drivers in this town assholes because some of my best friends are assholes, and my friends can get behind the wheel of a car without becoming a menace to public safety.

Where are the bad drivers’ heads at?    I think I figured it out.  They live in the CARTOON UNIVERSE.  Yes indeed, these people think that gravity and inertia and acceleration rates just DON’T APPLY TO THEM.  So there’s all these people driving around who think that a ton and a half of car can go from 60 to zero in a car length, because their idea of reality came from a Warner Brothers cartoon.

The schools are failing us.  They should have math story problems like, if you rear end somebody in a school zone because you’re following too close, how many teeth will you have left after the guy you rear ended punches you out?  Goodnight, you’ve been wonderful.

 

 

Back to work maybe.

I am hopeful to at least get sent to an interview this week.  In the meantime, I have completed and frozen the turkey soup, which is more like turkey stew, and now must repair the damage to the kitchen – a twenty pound turkey carcase leaves a greasy trail.

Landlord was unhelpful.  I must now wait another month.  Oh well.  Those that burn their arses must sit on the blisters.

New Game of Thrones Mashup.  I did laugh quite immoderately.

Off to Victoria

Kids and Jeff took my car to Victoria.  That means I have the weekend to myself.  I shall use it for making noise, I think.

I didn’t get some of these jokes.  Others are very amusing.

There is a very amusing meme on twitter right now.  I of course have contributed.

  1. Harold Bloom and Maude; Diet Plan 9 from Outer Space, Salvation Army of Darkness, Starship Super Troopers #AddaWordRuinaMovie

     

what a sh#tshow yesterday was…

after the morning, which was emotionally exhausting and frankly a new recent low point, I went into the shop to bake and wash dishes, and within minutes I was lying on the floor wondering what the fuck just happened.

I skidded on a piece of plastic on the floor, collided with the pizza oven, and then the sweet sweet floor rose up to meet me.  I never hit my head or lost consciousness, so I was able to immediately diagnose that I’d dislocated my right shoulder.  I got up from the floor walking like a zombie and shot through with pain, called Jeff, and he couldn’t come get me because he was having mobility issues of his own.  I called 911 and waited.  And waited.  And waited.  I was coping with levels of pain and disorientation that are right up there with giving birth unattended.  I couldn’t control my breathing and I was sweating so hard I couldn’t see.

The boys from #2 firehouse came and attempted to administer oxygen, and tried to put my arm in a sling but I was screaming and crying a little too enthusiastically for that. The firemen were very kind.  I did a lot of moaning and crying waiting for the ambulance.   After a very very long wait for the ambulance (yesterday was a record day for the Emerg because of a lot of MVA’s roof falls tree falls and other crush injuries (the announcements for cleanup help in emerg got squawkier and squawkier while I was in MTU)) I finally dipped my beak in some blessed, blessed nitrous, which doesn’t kill pain as much as it prevents you from screaming about it.

After the eternity of a twenty minute ambo ride I was shoved against the wall in triage and Dr. Lim came within 5 minutes and said, “I don’t think it’s dislocated.” And I said, then why does it hurt like a mofo and I’m walking like a zombie??? He checked again and faster than it takes to describe it, the ball went back in the socket.

Then many hours of waiting for xrays and results, and then I was released with a referral to a bone doc, 6 T3s, movement instructions and a sling, since it turns out the shoulder is broken as well as formerly dislocated.  Right shoulder OF COURSE.

I slept about as well as could be expected and am now attempting to come to terms with what is going to be a longish and interesting recovery. The shop will have to be sold, I can’t do nothing for 6 weeks or however long this takes.  I’ll know more on the 26th when I see the bone doc. I did advise that I have extensive numbness down that arm and that my two outside fingers are very tingly and weak; whether this presages really bad news for that nerve or is just my response to swelling who knows; Jeff advised me to be optimistic but not to lighten up about knowing what’s going on which I think is fine advice.

I am very glad I don’t live alone.  I am super grateful to my church family, who have been souls of kindness.

Today

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Good morning composing  via phone. As a consequence, there May B some inconsistencies in how  text this s.  Katie is returned from her trip 2 Capital m mission . Today we finalize our submission 2 Fraser health I 40 . I said awesome for a key. I said austerity. I said a sorority. I said assorti no that’s not it I said Authority. Thank you.