SADPROM DOTCOM

Animal Versions of GOP Leaders

2011-11-28T09:54:00.001-08:00

Herman Cain - The Fedora Enthusiast's Candidate

2011-11-27T20:05:00.000-08:00

Herman Cain is often seen on the campaign trail sporting a fedora. In doing so, he joins a long tradition of African-American men who choose to wear this particular style of hat. See below for a brief sampling of some other notable examples:

MORGAN FREEMAN IN SE7EN

KOBE BRYANT IN GQ

SNOOP DOG IN THIS ONE PICTURE

MICHAEL JACKSON (debatable)

MICHAEL JORDAN (not debatable)

CRIME WATCH GUY

With this Passport, the World is Your Couch Fort

2011-11-27T19:34:00.000-08:00

Just ordered a new passport. It came in the mail with this brochure, which has CLEARLY not been updated since the early sixties. I gotta admit, it's pretty inspiring to see we still have the confidence to claim the entire globe as our possession.

Thanksgiving Wins At Being A Holiday

2011-11-23T13:31:00.000-08:00

Picking a favorite holiday is kind of like picking a favorite color. It doesn’t really make any sense, it’s stupid and childish, but you can’t help eventually deciding that one of them is the absolute best. Everybody does it. For example, my favorite color is blue (I mean, come on, have you ever heard of the sky?) and my favorite holiday, by far, is Thanksgiving.

Like anyone who has an opinion on something that doesn’t matter, I’m determined to have the MOST CORRECT opinion on it. I will not tolerate any objections—Thanksgiving is the best holiday. If you don’t agree, your favorite color is probably burnt umber or something.

However, no one’s perfect. I understand that some people out there may have somehow become misinformed. As a public service, here’s an educational list of reasons why Thanksgiving is better than whatever stupid day you think is so awesome:

IT’S NOT ONE OF THE DUMB ONES

There are a number of holidays that are pretty outdated, but we vaguely acknowledge them with their own Google banners because it’d be awkward to pretend they just don’t exist. Groundhog Day is great and everything, but we could probably change it to Bill Murray Day and everyone would be happier. I think we can get rid of Presidents Day, unless it’s to remind us of a time when people actually liked presidents (mostly because they still had beards). Also, Arbor Day is ridiculous. Trees are idiots.

THANKSGIVING’S NOT RACIST

At the risk of sounding PC, what the fuck is up with St. Patrick’s Day? The whole thing is just people pretending to be Irish by getting SUPER drunk. If holidays are about stereotyping, then let’s celebrate Cinco de Mayo by taking a nap, or observe Martin Luther King Day by being late to everything. The worst generalization in Thanksgiving is that Indians are nice and good at farming.

BUT THANKSGIVING IS SEXIST

No matter how progressive your family, on Thanksgiving Day they party like its 1959. Men watch football. Women do the cooking. As a man, THAT WORKS FOR ME.

IT’S NOT NEW YEAR’S OR HALLOWEEN

People really like to say their favorite holiday is Halloween, meaning they like dressing up and getting sloshed. But let’s be honest, which of those two things do you like more? The whole costume thing is just an opportunity for boring people to show how “whacky” they are. Ugh. As for New Year’s, it’s a huge party where everyone wakes up the next day and makes a resolution to be a better person. That holiday already exists. It’s called ‘every weekend.’

IT HAS A COOL STORY

A great holiday centers around a made-up legend. Veteran’s Day is a noble cause, but its too real to inspire a celebration. Christmas and Easter already had fairy tales about that friendly carpenter, but people couldn’t help adding more about a jolly grandpa, airborne deer and a rabbit that gives out eggs for some reason.

Although the Thanksgiving story may be based on true events, it’s clearly about as accurate as a movie based on true events. But the idea of a neighborly meal between Pilgrims and Indians distracts from how things got all Cowboys and Indians a few years later. Regardless of the truth behind the First Thanksgiving, its hard to fuck with the spirit of the holiday. It’s about being thankful. Compare that to Christmas, which has been corrupted beyond all recognition into one giant stressfest.

Celebrating Thanksgiving is easy. Think about someone who has nothing, I mean really nothing. Someone who’s starving and cold and alone. Now think about all the shit you have. Think about all the people who help you out with your problems. Think about how lucky you are. There. That’s it. That’s Thanksgiving.

The Picinic Table President

2011-11-23T12:51:00.000-08:00

Jon Huntsman's people have clearly decided that the best way for him to get more attention as a presidential candidate is to wear more shirts with checks:

Benn Diagrams 2

2011-05-31T17:42:00.000-07:00

Another Venn Diagram for Cassie McQuater's "Venn Diagram Museum." It is about the junction of "making money" and "having fun."

On of the most annoying things about this blog format is that you need to click on pictures to see them properly. I understand that people on the internet are reluctant to click on things, but PLEASE CLICK ON THESE THINGS:

Benn Diagrams

2011-05-31T17:36:00.001-07:00

Cassie McQuater recently commissioned entries for a "Venn Diagram Museum." Here are some I made that attempt to describe several popular drugs. It is titled...

THE VENN DIAGRAM DRUG INDEX

You must click the images if you want to actually read what they say:

Online Harassment Seminar

2011-02-21T11:57:00.000-08:00

My place of employment required me to complete a one-hour online sexual harassment seminar. Did I complete the entire thing? Yes I did.

Did I screen-grab images then edit them in the MS Paint on my work computer? YES I ALSO DID.

They now have funny captions! Click the first image to see a slideshow:

Let's Get Real: The Interview

2010-09-11T09:35:00.000-07:00

“Let’s get real." he said, "The job market is terrible. You may have great skills. You may be a hard worker. But there are thousands of people out there just like you that are applying for the same positions.

“So how do you distinguish yourself?" he asked, "It's simple: the interview. Following a few easy guidelines during the interview process can really help set you apart from the crowd. Let’s go over some basics:

“First thing’s first: how do you dress for success? Everyone knows that you should come to any interview in business professional attire. Name brands are important. Wear a nice watch. The more obviously expensive your clothes, the more you will seem like you don't need any money, which is a surefire way

“So why not show up in clothes that are literally made of money? I am not being metaphorical about this. I’m talking about taking twenty dollar bills and sewing them together into a trim, stylish, non-gender-specific suit. And while we’re at it, I’m pretty sure it is possible to make thread out of gold. Although I am neither a metallurgist nor a seamstress, it’s worth looking into. The subtle glitter of golden thread will really show potential employers that you would make an excellent employee.

“Now I don’t want to be discouraging, but a sharp appearance is not necessarily enough to get you hired. Once you’ve impressed them with your WealthWear®, they are going to start asking you a bunch of questions. The first questions that the interviewer will ask are probably going to be about the logistics of walking down the street in a suit made primarily of American currency. Try to move past that quickly.

“Then you will be asked about how your education, expertise, and professional background relate to the position that you have applied for. It is very important to keep in mind that the answers to these questions are none of their fucking beeswax. Remember, if at any time you start to get uncomfortable, it is your right as an interviewee to have your lawyer present.

“Of course, that is only if things start to get out of hand. It probably won’t come to that. Just stay calm, be cool, and wink as often as possible. It helps to throw in a few veiled compliments about the interviewer’s sexual appeal. If you then sense that the interviewer is attracted to you, imply that a strong professional respect between you could―who knows?―turn into something more.

“Just be sure to remain fairly enigmatic and elusive. When they ask where you went to school, tell them that the name of the school is an unpronounceable symbol. If they ask you where the school is located, make a mysterious expression and allow several moments of meaningful silence to pass before discreetly pointing to your genitals.

“It doesn’t take much to successfully navigate any interview. Just follow my advice and you can get ahead in this highly competitive market.

“Believe me. I’ve interviewed dozens of people in my career. And, pending my inevitable vindication in several upcoming lawsuits, I will interview hundreds more.

“Anyway, thank you so much folks for taking the time to hear my thoughts on this today. It’s people like you who make people like me what I am. Now let’s get real… Would you like to hear the specials or do you already know what you want to order?”

Short Sheets

2010-01-07T19:31:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my friend Maria asked me if it was a good idea to buy sheets. This is in keeping with our usual pattern of conversation where she is genuinely stressing out about something I find ridiculous, and so I end up making wisecracks and being generally unhelpful.

You see: she's been in her new apartment almost three months now and she just bought a bed. Up until now, she's just been sleeping in a vaguely defined pile of her softest possessions. But now that she has a bed, she's debating whether or not to get sheets, so she called to ask me what I thought. I told her that though I do not know the standard for women, for men having sheets on your bed is like having windows on your van: it says that you are probably not a rapist.

And, just to be clear, when I say that Maria has bought a "bed," I do so generously. What Anna has actually bought is a twin-sized box spring and, purchased separately, a full-sized mattress to balance on top. Together they make up a giant two-piece Jenga, which she lays atop to slumber every night. When I asked why she would buy mismatched components of the seemingly simple and common apparatus known as a "bed," she ignored me and started talking about how she has been getting horrible sleep lately.

"I have really strange dreams," she said. "I'm standing near this volcano, and the ground around me is really unstable. And I know that if I walk in any direction the ground is going to open up and swallow me."

I told her that this makes sense. Any slight toss or turn in either direction will flip the mattress over and send her legs up in the air with a surprised scream, pinning her now very awake self to the hardwood floor.

"I think I'm drinking to much coffee," she said.

When she told me about her sleeping situation, I told her about a similar situation I had the summer after my sophomore year of college. Back then I had only a sheetless twin mattress in the corner of a preposterously cheap room to call my own. But, I said, I didn't really mind the bare and crack-den-like arrangement on which I fell asleep. Because, at that time, "falling asleep" was really just a euphemism for what happened at the end of every night after a few hours of drinking beer on various porches with my friends. So most nights the lack of sheets went pretty much unnoticed.

I did, however, eventually learn that summer why bedsheets are like van windows.

She then proceeded to recount the entire premire of The Bachelor to me. Maria is one of these friends (though she may be the only one, as far as I know) who asks for advice, and the question ends up haunting me for days. "Should I buy sheets?" She asks for advice that makes you fundamentally question assumptions that you didn't even know that you had. In order to answer her question, I had to consider sheets on a level that is far more philosophical than I'm comfortable with.

Should one buy sheets? I mean, guess so...

You can definitely justify a basic white cotton set. But if you get right down to it, there's a certain thread-count at which it starts to get irresponsible. The more I think about it, the more I cannot for the life of me decide if I should or should not own sheets. "Should" just isn't a word that really enters into my relationship with my sheets.

As always after Maria asks me advice, I'm starting to drive myself crazy. I have to drop it before I flip the metaphorical mattress off my mental boxspring. I'm going to go buy a beer and try to forget about sheets altogether.

My Grandpa Owned A Grocery Store

2010-01-01T21:49:00.000-08:00

I don't think I would make a very good grocery store owner. I lack the necessary organizational skills and drive. Everything would start out good, but after a while I'd get lazy. People would come in and the floors would all be unmopped and the aisles would have empty shelves with open boxes scattered everywhere. It would takes hours of wandering around and peaking under cardboard flaps to find anything.

Also, you'd have to be real careful not to move the boxes, because I know right where everything is and if you move one I will never be able to fucking find anything. Actually, maybe all the customers should stand at the front of the store. Just shout out requests and I'll come back with what you want. But if you ask for something weird or stupid, then you won't get it. No one needs a zester. You can make your more retarded purchases at goddamn Walmart thankyouverymuch.

Seeing as my favorite thing in all grocery stores is the lobster tank, there is going to be a really really big lobster tank. And each one will be dressed up like a little lobster person, ideally a famous figure from history. If you would like to purchase a lobster, you must correctly guess its costume and tell me how that historical figure died. Then you must promise to kill the lobster in the same way before you eat it. For the customer's convenience, I will do my best to come up with historical figures that died by being thrown into a pot of rapidly boiling water. Though I'm not sure I can think of any off the top of my head. Also for the customer's convenience, I'll try to avoid historical figures that died of old age.

Perhaps during the holidays we'll stage a little lobster pageant, reenacting the nativity. I'm not sure about the logistics of making lobsters stand still to act out their the birth of Christ, but I imagine the audience will be forgiving if Joseph and one of the Magi claw lightly at each other. And, before you ask, the baby jesus lobster does cost extra but is probably the most delicious. Oh, and please don't sit on the boxes. I'm kind of touchy about the boxes.

Maybe it would be fun to own a grocery store. Or maybe just a novelty lobster aquarium. That way my top actors wouldn't keep getting eaten.

Wannabe Cupcake Muffin

2009-12-19T10:59:00.000-08:00

I told everyone at work yesterday that I used to be in a heavy metal band called "Wannabe Cupcake Muffin." This isn't true, but I was really really bored. And when things get that way at work, I start approaching my coworkers and telling them elaborate lies about my life. It's actually probably my favorite work hobby.

But I didn't make up the phrase "Wannabe Cupcake Muffin" as the name of an imaginary heavy metal band. A couple of summers ago when I used to spend most of my time hanging out with friends instead of working, someone came up with the idea that we should all design t-shirts for threadless.com. This was basically a ploy to get a windfall of extra beer money because, as most everyone knows, threadless pays $5000 for good t-shirt designs. So one night, more as a joke than anything else, we riffed on t-shirt ideas and some one (I don't think it was me) came up with the words "Wannabe Cupcake Muffin."

After drinking some more beers, a complete vision for the t-shirt started to form. The premise was a muffin looking in a bathroom mirror, probably late at night after its little muffin wife had gone to bed. The muffin was slowly applying frosting to its top, just experimenting to see how it would feel to dress up as a cupcake. "Not for any reason or nothing," the muffin would say to himself. "More like as a joke." But he wouldn't tell any of his muffin friends who he worked with down at the factory about it. And when the boys started to make fun of Jerry for not coming bowling because he had to go curtain shopping with his wife, the muffin would mock him louder than anyone. "Jerry is such a little dessert," he would say, not remembering that the night before he had spread pink icing across his muffin top.

Needless to say, this was a difficult story to convey with the picture on the front of a t-shirt. It makes for a pretty confusing image. The similarities in appearance between a cupcake and a muffin, which is kinda the point of the whole thing, actually made it really hard to draw. How do you make a muffin that is distinctly not a cupcake, but also has frosting on top? And where do you put the arms? Or the eyes for that matter? It's perplexing to the t-shirt viewer, and you lose all the gay/tranny subtext.

And as the name of an imaginary heavy metal band, it was not too successful either. Nobody really believed me. But maybe that was because one of my coworkers brought in muffins that had this sweet peanut butter frosting on top. So it was pretty clear where the idea came from.

You know that thing...

2009-12-19T08:39:00.000-08:00

You know that thing where you are walking directly at someone on the sidewalk, and in order to avoid running into each other, you use super-subtle body language to mutually decide if you will both go right or both go left? I was doing that thing with this businessman who was talking on a cell phone, and he shifted his torso every so slightly to the right, indicating that he wanted to go that way. But, for personal reasons I'm not going to disclose here, I wanted to go left. So I made it very clear with the direction of my stride that I was going left and that was that. This apparently came as a surprise to the businessman, who had to do a little stutter-step to avoid running into me. But then, when I passed him, I heard him talking on his phone and he was British.

Wtf? Why didn't he naturally go left?

Three Frisbee Players

2009-05-19T10:04:00.000-07:00

About three days ago, I saw one human, one cartoon dog, and one gorilla walk out the Art Museum on State street togather. They had a frisbee and were clearly headed for the law quad. Their appearance was both bizarre and strangely casual.

One was dressed in the usual uniform that almost everyone in the world wears (frayed shorts, logo t-shirt, flip flops). The second guy was dressed in a gorilla costume. The third member of their party was dressed up as a yellow-spotted cartoon dog. They were chatting about something as they went to play frisbee. The normal-dressed one was clearly having a little trouble hearing the other two through their masks.

What was particularly strange about the costumed frisbeeists was how normally they were walking. Usually, if someone is in public wearing a costume, they work for some Chuck-E-Cheesesque or Disneyish corporation. And if that's not the case, then they are a zany person who likes the attention of dancing around in a costume.

But these guys were walking at a normal pace. No jumping around, no antics. Nothin. And now that I think of it, it's probably harder to behave normally in a cartoon dog suit than it is to behave like a cartoon dog. But this guy was doing it.

When they came up to cross South U. in order to get over to the Law Quad, a group of black kids on the corner started hollarin' at them. Their general sentiment was, "Holy shit! A dog!" They didn't really mock him, or his gorilla friend, so much as marvel at him. The way you do when someone wears a costume in public.

And the yellow dog turned his body to them in a way that said, "C'mon. You really gonna give me some shit about this." As much as person whose entire body is hidden under yellow-with-black-polka-dots felt can have an expression, this guy seemed wearied and resigned. As though he were some opressed minority that was no longer outraged or sad about being singled out, just exasperated.

The dog walked off into the law quad shaking his head, and the gorilla and the normal person patted him on the back. "It's ok man," they might have been saying. "Don't let those jerks get to you."

I imagine that the yellow dog just shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't care. There will always be ignorant people. It's fine." And they played frisbee all day until the sun went down. It was probably really fun.

5 Questions You Must Ask Yourself Before Leading a Happy and Successful Life

2009-02-19T06:53:00.000-08:00

Congratulations! By purchasing this book, you have started down a five-step process to a happy and successful life. You may be asking yourself, "How can only five questions bring me something that great?" Well, stop it. That is not one of the five questions.

Human culture has searched for the key to a happy and successful life for thousands of years. But where religion, philosophy, and pharmaceuticals have failed, a simple list of five questions will be successful (and happy). But don't take my word for it.

On second thought, take my word for it. And I'll tell you why. I not only thought of the five questions, but I've also provided answers that you can pretend you thought of yourself. What could be better? (For the record, I was being rhetorical. That is also not one of the five questions. But if it were, the answer would be 'nothing'). So let's not delay. You probably don't want to live even one more minute with your unsuccessful and depressing shell of a life. I assume that's how you feel. I wouldn't know because I not only thought of the questions AND the answers, but I was also born into an affluent and good-looking family, so life's been pretty easy for me. Here we go:

Question One:
Did I actually buy this book?
The five questions have no ranking of importance, each one is vital to a happy and success life. That being said, this one is really really important. That's why I put it first.

Buying this book is key to leading a happy and successful life. If you checked this book out from the library, you have done so expressly against the author's wishes. Apparently you can't get your own book banned from a public library. But if you ever attempt to, I recommend you not use the word "freeloaders" to refer to library patrons because it makes the librarians angry. That's not part of the answer to the first question. That's bonus advice.

So no libraries. But even if you borrowed this book from a friend or are reading this in the bookstore without intending to buy it, you have still already answered the first question incorrectly. Don't panic. I'm going to help you through this.

If you are at the bookstore, carefully follow these instructions: walk up to the cashier, show them this book, slowly set your wallet on the counter, and then leave the store without saying anything. Hopefully they will take the price of the book out of the contents of your wallet. If not, it still sends a powerful message that other people might see and say to themselves, "Maybe I should get that book." If there isn't enough money in your wallet, then you just made me look pretty bad. Thanks a lot.

If you borrowed this book from a friend then drop it like it's burning your hands, scream, and slap that so-called friend across the face. Tell the asshole that he (or she) was warned that this would happen. By the way, some more bonus advice: don't lend this book to a friend.

Now that you have a legally obtained a copy of this book (using libraries, browsing in bookstores, and borrowing from friends are all illegal; I looked it up), you have successfully answered the first question. Aren't you happy? You should be, but not too much. You're only one fifth of the way to a happy and successful life. You should be 10% happy and 10% successful, which adds up to 20%, which is equal to one fifth (I also looked that up). Now that we're ready, let's get on to question two...

Question Two:
Why are there five questions instead of four?
Wow. Excellent question. You sure are smart. It turns out that publishers outright refuse to print a self-help book entitled, "4 Questions You Must Ask Yourself Before Leading a Happy and Successful Life." Even if you tell them that four questions are all that are really necessary, and that it took you several afternoons of zoning out just to come up with that many so you'll be damned if you have to think of anymore, they'll still insist on five. It's some bullshit marketing thing. You know, I have an agent that I pay good money to stand up for me on shit like that. Whatever. So you've answered number two. Congratulations and blah, blah, blah. Moving on...

Question Three:
So is Question Two just filler?
No it is not. Next...

Question Four:
Wait a minute. If you told me in Question Two that you had four questions and then added one, how is it possible that Question Three references Question Two?
Allow me to answer your question with another question. Put your finger on this page to hold your place, close the book, and look at the title. Does it say "5 Questions You Must Ask Yourself Before Becoming a Fucking Smart Ass"? No it does not.

In fact, you're burning through these questions pretty fast. Why would you waste one on a clarification? That's like wishing that the genie reveal why you only get three wishes. Who gives a fuck? Your first wish is that the genie tell you the best possible wish you can make, your second wish is whatever he tells you, and your third wish you keep in the kicker for a rainy day. Everyone knows that, dumbass! So why are you badgering me with your crazy logic?

Remember all that bonus advice I gave you before? C'mon. Be cool.

Question Five:
I really just picked up this book to learn how to get rich because I assumed that's what you meant by "happy and successful." And since I only have one question left I guess I'll get right to it. How do I get rich?
See how far you've come? Knowing what you want and how to ask for it are two vital parts of confidence. And confidence is vital to getting people to believe whatever you say. And if people believe whatever you say, then a world of opportunity opens up to you. Is that true? Maybe. But I wrote it with confidence, and you believed me. Even if you didn't, you bought this book and now I am happy and successful. See? All it took were five questions.

AFTERWORD:
It occurs to me that you might interpret this book as a recommendation to write your own self-help book. If you do that I will sue you. I don't need a bunch of competition out there. Find your own thing and back off mine.

My Stamp of Dissaproval

2009-01-29T09:04:00.000-08:00

True story:

I wrote a thank you note to my grandma at work this morning. As a graduation present, she paid for my plane ticket out to San Fransisco for spring break. And because I'm trying to save money for after I graduate, I might not have been able to go on a trip if she had not given me such a nice gift. So I wrote her a thank you note and sealed it in an envelope because my grandmother does not own or known how to operate a computer, so I couldn't write her a "thank you email." Plus everyone likes getting letters, older people especially.

So when I got a break off work I went to the post office. At the service desk I asked for one stamp, paid for it, and peeled it off the backing. I was just about to stick the stamp on the envelope (like you do) when I suddenly realized what was on it:

This caused me to hesitate.
'Well, it is just a stamp,' I said to myself. 'It doesn't matter what's on it. Grandma probably won't even notice.'

'Are you fucking kidding me?!' I replied to myself. 'It's a picture of a sad old lady who can't remember who her friends and family are. DO NOT put that on a thank you note to your grandmother.
'Also, the implication that your grandmother would be too confused to notice the square inch color picture on an otherwise completely white envelope is a little insensitive considering you're fully prepared to send her a reminder of her own impending senility.'

"Excuse me," I said out loud. "This may seem a little strange, but may I have a different stamp?"

Alas they wouldn't let me exchange it because I'd already peeled off the backing. Luckily they cost only forty-two cents and I'm not from 1914, so that doesn't strike me as a lot of money.

Now I know that this was an unfortunate coincidence, but does it not seem a little shortsighted on the part of the post office to mass-produce a stamp that just says "Alzheimer's" on it, accompanied by one of the sadder pictures I've ever seen. Not even "Support Alzheimer's Research." Or maybe that's a little long. At least it could say "Alzheimer's SUX!" or "Remembering RULES!" Anything would be better really.

I'm sure that whoever designs stamps sees every one as a little opportunity (or maybe he is fully aware that no one is paying attention) but WAY more old people use the mail than young people. I don't think that they need their stamps to be a harrowing reminder of the realities of growing older. And on a somewhat related note, what's with those clouds and tiny sun? Does she have Alzheimer's on Venus?

The folder's getting a little crowded, but I'll think I'll file this in my brain under 'W.T.F.'

Twin High Maintenance Machines

2009-01-22T13:09:00.000-08:00

True story:

When I went into the bank today, This Year by the Mountain Goats was playing on the sound system.
Jesus.
Since the financial meltdown bankers are becoming way more ftw.

Entendre Has Only One Meaning

2009-01-22T07:11:00.000-08:00

If you're the sort of person that makes a lot of horrible puns and a lot of unwelcome sexual advances, then you often hear the word "entendre." As far as I can tell, "entendre" is a slightly Frenchier (i.e. classier) way of informing someone that that is what she said. So I tried to look up entendre in the dictionary but it isn't there. But it is--like almost everything--on wikipedia.
Like having a tub of Vaseline around the house, Wikipedia is sometimes fun and sometimes useful. As well as being a place where you can add pictures of Donald Duck dressed up as firefighter to an article about Roe v. Wade, wikipedia also sometimes has very informative informational facts. Check out these tidbits from the page on double entendre [all words in brackets are ones that I added]:

The British phrase equivalent to "That's what she said" is "...as the actress said to the bishop". [For example: "Be careful putting all of that blood pudding into my boot...as the actress said to the bishop." This, by the way, is my new favorite phrase.]
'That's what she said' is a "a prime example of casual humor in Africa." [I swear to God that is exactly how it is phrased: casual humor in Africa.]
...in Are You Being Served? [a British comedy], Mrs. Slocombe makes frequent references to her "pussy", such as "It's a wonder I'm here at all, you know. My pussy got soakin' wet. I had to dry it out in front of the fire before I left." Someone unfamiliar with sexual slang might find this statement funny simply because of the references to her pussy cat, whereas generally a viewer would be expected to detect the innuendo ("pussy" is sexual slang for vagina). [Once again, I didn't change any of that.]

While I was reading this wikipedia article at work (I'm not very productive while I'm at work, sorry Obama!), my coworker mentioned that her semester was very busy and that she felt like it would be over soon.
"It's going too fast. I can't enjoy it," she said.
Seeing an opportunity to use my new favorite phrase, I replied with a wink:
"...as the actress said to the bishop."
Apparently she was not as knowledgeable about British culture as I was, so she had no idea what the hell I was talking about. I helpfully explained that I was comparing her semester to intercourse and her feeling that it was going by quickly to premature ejaculation. She very convincingly pretended not to be amused.
So I started reading out loud from the wikipedia article to her until I got to the section entitled, "Triple Entendre."
"There's no such thing," she said.
"Of course there is," I replied with my famous patience and understanding for complete idiots. "It's a pun that has three meanings instead of two."
"Give me one that actually has three," she said.
And even though I thought that would be a pretty good moment to pull out a 'that's what she said,' I restrained myself. It wouldn't have made a whole lot of sense anyway.
Instead, I read her some triple entendres from the examples in the wikipedia article. Unfortunately all three of them sucked really bad. One of them was in French. This one was the worst:

[Another example is] the children's rhyme "This little piggy went to market." Typically a pig goes to be sold at market, but in this case the context suggests it went to buy something. The third meaning is going to sell at the market, as a farmer does.

What the fuck does that even mean? As a farmer does!? Is that really the point behind that nursery rhyme? I doubt it.
Not surprisingly, my co-worker was still not convinced that triple entendres actually exist. So I made one up.
"If there were an African-American announcing a baseball game, and while announcing that game he talked about how the home team's uniform had been redesigned with a different chromatization, you could say that he was making a color commentary."
At this point I awaited her applause.
"But that doesn't count," she said.
"Why not?"
"Because it isn't sexual. Entendres have to be sexual."
I said that it was borderline racist, which is kind of like a sexual joke (once again, sorry Obama).
"Still doesn't count," she said.
Ugh. Some people are impossible to please.
Anyway, almost entirely out of spite, I came up with three triple entendres of a sexual nature. Here they are.
Punchlines are in italics (explanations are in parentheses):

There is a coal-mining town in Pennsylvania that has a small, conservative community. Almost everyone works in the mine. One day a worker is caught sexually abusing an underage girl. But because the community is so small and repressed, everyone sweeps it under the rug so that it doesn't become a major deal. It is thereafter known as the Minor (Miner) Incident. (He's a miner, she's a minor, and the event itself is minor).
There's a prison camp where all the guards are nutcrackers and the prisoners are all walnuts. The guards need to get some information out of a particular walnut prisoner, but the prisoner has lost his mental stability under the stressful conditions of the prison camp. In order to get the information out of him, the nutcrackers apply a particularly brutal and sexually based torture. But because of his mental condition, he yields no useful intelligence and becomes known as a tough nut to crack. (Nut like his balls, nut like he's crazy, and nut like he's an actual walnut).
This one is the best: The US Military decides, because of reduced funding, that they are going to have to close one military base within the country's borders. Without having any better way to decide which one will be closed, the military determines they will have a round-robin softball tournament. Each base puts a co-ed team together. After the first game of the tournament, the winning team has secured the future of their fort. There is much celebration. In the second game, things are tense. Everyone knows that losing the game could mean losing their jobs. As one team falls behind late into the seventh inning, they start to pull dirty tricks. One player takes a long lead off first. Then, suddenly, he gropes the breast of the female first-baseman in order to distract her and then makes a run for it. He slides in under the tag and the umpire yells, "SAFE!" His team goes on to win the game and he is always known as the man who stole second base. (Second base like the second military fort, second base like her breast, and second base like the white square on the ground).

If you're reading this in a public place, all the people around you are no doubt wondering why you're groaning so much. Tell them you're only groaning because you love it. Then wink and say, "...that's what she said."
Unless you're British.

The Introduction

2009-01-21T18:42:00.000-08:00

This is my second blog. The other one is called The Central Punchline and it's a literary blog with a bunch of poems and short stories. But I've decided, after posting on it for a few months, that it lacks a certain level of awesomeness that I demand from all my activities. You see, a "literary blog" is sort of like a "literary Garfield comic" or a "literary pillowcase" insofar as all three are a thing preceded by the word "literary."
So this is an attempt at more traditional blog. If you're a fan of The Central Punchline (and if you're not I formally invite you to go suck it) don't be worried. I'm going to keep posting all the fake stories I make up over there. This blog will be true stories about my life with just the usual level of lying that I do when I talk to my friends and family.
Actually, that may have been a lie. I intend to write some fiction for this blog, but it will all be the typical sort of silliness that God invented the internet for. And all true stories from my life will be--it goes without saying--awesome. It won't be one of those blogs where people just complain all the time. I hate that. It's just boring. I mean, why bother bitching at the internet? It can't talk back at you. You're just publishing the fact that things annoy you and you expect everyone to read it. I mean who cares? I mean, it's not like I really care, but it's just like, it just bothers me ok? I hate it....

But seriously: This blog twill be awesome. Follow it.