Posts Tagged With: fun

Who gave you a license?

Who gave you a license?

woman driver2

I can’t stand other drivers! I couldn’t stand them when I was able to drive, and now that my wife does all the driving, I find that I still can‘t stand them! Don’t people remember anything they learned? I remember my driving lessons well. I also remember a lot of my class mates not doing too well. So I guess it goes without saying that those, now adults, get confused whenever they try to recall things they should have learned. The problem with this is, they’re trying to recall these things while driving!

Take the ‘Two-Second-rule’ for example. Do you remember the two second rule? No, it doesn’t mean forget the driving rules two seconds after you take your driving test! It doesn’t mean two seconds after the light turns green you must be doing sixty miles an hour. Nor does it mean that it’s okay to stop on the freeway on-ramp (if you only stop for two seconds) prior to merging. As you can see the two second rule appears to be a confusing rule for many people.

‘Following distance’ is another term I’ve noticed people having a difficult time understanding. It is not defined as the distance traveled when following someone home from the pub.

Reaction-time is another one of those confusing concepts. For example, some people define it as the time it takes to put down their cell-phone and ‘flip you off’. Others think it’s the time it takes to roll down their window and scream obscenities. Amazingly, some people have become unbelievably astute at performing these three actions, and can do them simultaneously. Still others believe that ‘reaction time’ is the time it takes to recover their dropped cell-phone, which slipped from their hand while trying to put on make-up, drive, eat a breakfast sammie and talk on the phone simultaneously. So, what do they do? They search the floor-board with one hand while steering down the road with the elbow on the other arm, trying not to spill the coffee they are holding. Now can you see why other drivers piss me off?

Another driving element many people (myself included) can’t seem to understand is the signage. Alarmingly, school zones are the same areas where you will commonly see signs that read, ’SLOW CHILDREN AT PLAY’! No, it has nothing to do with brain function, nor does it mean that some of these kids can’t even run out of the way! It means…….. aaaaaaagh! What the hell do you care anyway!

Even worse than being confused, some drivers, especially women, lose their minds in shopping mall parking lots . We’ve all seen them creeping along (driving laps around the same lanes of parked cars) circling; looking like vultures waiting for something to die, or we’ve seen them impatiently idling in-place, hell-bent on getting a space close to the door. I submit, if you look closely enough, you will see red furious eyes, and clenched- barred teeth. You’ll also see their white-knuckled death-grip on their steering wheels, and veins popping out of their foreheads, forearms and necks.–

Being able to perform a U-turn, a three-point-turn, as well as being able to parallel park are skills that can certainly come in handy from time to time. Unfortunately, I have come to suspect that many people get confused when they attempt the execution of such maneuvers. A ‘U-turn’ turns into a U-end-up-in-the-ditch turn, a ’three-point-turn’ ends up being a ’three hour display of gear changing ability, and parallel parking looks like someone ran out of petrol (in the middle of the road) and left the car right where it quit!

People who drive like this should have their licenses revoked! Don’t you agree?

 

I hate other drivers!

 

Categories: Guest Posts, Humor, Re-blogs | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

Why do women get married in white?

question mark

Why do women get married in white?

Is it the age old virgin in white thing?

So that they match all the other white goods in the kitchen?

Because they have smaller feet than men, so they can stand closer to the kitchen sink?

No! I don’t think so. Men used to be indoctrinated and brain washed into the belief that women need to be barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen and would profess total incompetence with kitchen appliances and babies nappies, feeding the troops and anything vaguely resembling a broom or cleaning aid. But the girls have out thought us!

Don’t let them fool you guys. All the modern things were designed by women. It’s all a huge conspiracy to get us to prove our undying love by taking away the last bastion of male dominance. The rolled eyes, sighs, tantrums and tears are shared with equal ease in this modern era.

However, with newer, smarter and more technologically advanced appliances on the market they are trying their damndest to prove that it’s no longer seen as a wimpy thing for a man to understand the workings of a kitchen. “Remember I said understand not do!” They are cunningly making these appliances so technologically complicated that they can plead incompetence and allow your male ego to be coerced into doing it. “It’s all a ploy I tell you”. Tables are turning guys wake up!

You don’t need smaller feet to stand at the sink when you have a high tech dishwasher that you can programme using its on-board computer to wash and dry the dishes at the optimum energy saving time. Breaking dishes is no longer an excuse for getting out of the washing up. ‘I can’t cook’ is no longer a feasible excuse for staying out of the kitchen when ovens are available on the market to work out the perfect cooking times and temperatures at the touch of a fancy digital display.

Feigning throwing up while changing nappies is also so last decade. Lemon and beer scented liners are in the pipeline with nappies having pictures of the latest swimsuit models.  Don’t think that all the wives/mothers fall for this crap… pun intended. They are a step ahead of us guys.

Hello! The same applies to washing machines. If you can operate a Playstation, then you can operate a washing machine. That’s their philosophy. See what I mean by women inventors? Simple buttons and attractive displays should be enough to attract the simplest man. Equipped with the latest technology to work out the weight of a load, the optimum amounts of water and ideal wash time there is just no excuse anymore. Some woman with a sexy voice telling you what a man you are while she explains which buttons to push. I bet they’re even working on games that would include hanging the bloody stuff up. Even the environment is catered for with minimum water and energy being used without the need for any forethought on the behalf of man.

Coffee makers have advanced to a point where a few minutes programming to start with will provide personalised coffee to four individuals. Type of coffee, amount of milk, amount of water and water temperature can all be specified. Automatic beer ejectors are on the cards too. A clap of the hands sets the fridge to launch the next beer in your general direction.

So, you’ve been emailed by your fridge with your shopping needs which you picked up on the way home. You make yourself a cup of tea with water straight from the new fangled tap that provides instant boiling water. Throw the dinner in the oven and let it do the working out while you remove clean, dry clothes from the washer/dryer that did its stuff while you were out.

After dinner, waste is fed to the waste disposal unit and the dishwasher takes over with the cleaning while you sit and relax with a cup of coffee made to your requirements and previously timed to be drinkable just when you are ready for it.

A perfect evening for a single man.  What do you need women for? Aren’t they working themselves out of a job. Just saying!

Categories: Guest Posts, Humor | Tags: , , , | 5 Comments

A pocket Tazer for their anniversary?

A pocket Tazer for their anniversary?

pocket tazer

Author unknown but really funny!

 

Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my
interest…

The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little
something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a

100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized tazer.

 

The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no

long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time

to retreat to safety….??

 

WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.

Loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.

Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the

button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I’d

get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the

 

AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is

on the face of her microwave.

 

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that

it couldn’t be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, right?

 

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently

(trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking

that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving

 

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a

second) and then thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But,

if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself

against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as

advertised. Am I wrong?

 

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading

glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand,

and tazer in the other.

 

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient

your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms

and a major loss of bodily control; and a three-second burst would

purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of

water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the

 

All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5″

long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference (loaded with two itsy, bitsy

AAA batteries); pretty cute really, and thinking to myself, ‘no

possible way!’

 

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best ..

 

 

I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one

side so as to say, ‘Don’t do it stupid,’ reasoning that a one second

burst from such a tiny lil ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad. I

decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I

touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and …

 

HOLY MOTHER OF.. . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE …!!!

 

I’m pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up

in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and

over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in a

fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples

on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under

my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs!

 

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging

to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an

attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the

living room.

 

Note: If you ever feel compelled to ‘mug’ yourself with a tazer, one

note of caution: there is NO such thing as a one second burst when you

zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged

from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor! A three

second burst would be considered conservative!

 

A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at

that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and

surveyed the landscape.

 

My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The

recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it

originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still

twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my

bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.. I had no control over the drooling.

 

Apparently I had crapped in my shorts, but was too numb to know for

sure, and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above

my head, which I believe came from my hair. I’m still looking for my

testicles and I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return!

 

P.s… My wife can’t stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift and now regularly threatens me with it!

Categories: Guest Posts, Humor, Re-blogs | Tags: , , , | 5 Comments

Why I hate a Gym

GUEST POST — sent by a friend

 

hippo sceptic

For my 52nd birthday, my wife and children presented me with a week of personal training at the local health club. Although I feel I am still in great shape for a fifty year old my family felt that the loss of a number of kilograms and the shrinking of my stomach bulge so that I could get to my own shoe laces, was the way to go. The sight of Yvette, the young and very attractive fitness trainer, also helped in confirming my desire to get fit, starting Monday…

I started my day at 6:00 am. What the hell for? I was only due there at 9 and I didn’t need to shower before the workout.

When I arrived at the health club she was waiting for me, all raring to go. Beautiful girl, beautiful smile and beautiful voice. I was sold!

The first machine was the treadmill. S**t, five minutes and I could barely breathe, my pulse was racing like an engine on steroids and it had nothing to do with standing next to a beautiful woman. Maybe the effort of trying to hold my stomach in had some bearing on it. Once my heart rate had subsided I tried the stationary bike. Ahh! Much better except that I developed blisters on both butt cheeks after a half hour of pedaling. I hopped off the bike and strode manfully away trying not to walk like I had a carrot up my behind.

The next day I was better prepared, I had applied oils and petroleum jelly to the affected areas on my delicate posterior before I left home so I could stride with the usual manliness. I went for the weight lifting machine this time because I wanted to spare my ass the pain. This was easy, I had always had good upper body strength. She put a couple of weights on and then lay back to show me how it was done. This was easy, except that I couldn’t move the bar. I got up to check what was holding the thing back, but couldn’t find anything. Back on the machine I couldn’t move the frikkin thing but a wisp of a girl could do it, so I suddenly shouted and grabbed my belly. That took the smirk off her face. Pulled muscle, had to go for ice packing at home. Cheers!

I couldn’t lift my arms up high enough to shave and it took all of five minutes to lift myself off the toilet so I phoned in sick but she said that I needed to do light exercises or I would stiffen up. So off I went to face the bloody dragon once again. The others in the gym all had knowing smiles as I screamed my way through the light exercise routine that would have put a marine in the sick bay. Staggered back to my car and sat there silently contemplating suicide.

After four days there wasn’t a muscle in my body that wouldn’t cringe at the thought of further exercise and my whole body felt like I had spent 15 rounds in the ring with Mohamed Ali.

By the fifth day I had consumed every pain pill, anti inflammatory and prescription drug for any kind of illness that I could lay my hands on and I was ready to hire a hit man to get rid of my female persecutor.

The sixth day I managed to get from bed to chair and collapsed into a ball of pain where I stayed for the rest of the day. I dared not open my eyes to watch TV because even my eyelids were sore.

Thanks for your thoughtful gift sweetheart, but let me please tell you where you can place the next one if it’s similar. Come here so that I ca thank you properly. Ow! Even my bloody lips are sore.

Categories: Guest Posts, Humor | Tags: , , , | 8 Comments

Why the hell do we have teeth

Why the hell do we have teeth

tooth fairy

Everything comes in either gas, liquid or solid. That is about all I could remember of my high school chemistry. That, and how to explode a partially dissected frog. No, wait. That wasn’t chemistry class. Silly me. Why would we have a partially dissected frog in chemistry class. That was that other class. What was it called, again? Oh yes, biology.

It seems that in this modern era of instant, super fast, supersonic everything ranging from coffee to food to the internet, it is just not cool, with it or magic to own a cell phone that does not have all the bells and whistles or a conventional stove or oven when you can cook faster in a combination oven, microwave, griller that can simultaneously blow dry your hair and burn your toast, while you wait for your coffee to boil.

Start your day in a shower that steam cleans and dries you as you walk through, like some bloody private car wash, use the toilet that washes and dries you bum, then use your electric toothbrush to clean your teeth. Why! We don’t use the things. Everything is being converted/morphed into liquids. I am not talking about the intoxicating variety of liquids here either. I can still remember soap (the hard bar variety) now when I reach for the soap in the shower the liquid shampoo burns my eyes so that I can’t see if it is the soap, hand cream, conditioner, hair remover or drain cleaner because they’re all in the same shaped bottles.

Pipes and houses would be insulated with all sorts of materials but now they just spray it on.

Sun burn and a tan came from lying for hours in the sun, now they just spray it on.

Stews and casseroles are becoming soups while fruit and vegetables are becoming juice or slushies. Even ice is being liquidized.

I take an abundance of medical concoctions, on my wife’s insistence. Calcium, iron, zinc, vitamins by the million, which were all in tablet form until our last visit to the supermarket! Now they all come in liquid form including the whole scrapyard’s worth of extra metals. Even painkillers are liquid.

Each year families spend thousands of Rands on dentists bills fixing teeth that we don’t need anymore. What a waste of money!

 

 

 

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , | 5 Comments

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