Category Archives: humor

August 6, 2014 · 1:00 am

Siri humor

manIt would appear Siri is slightly hard of hearing. Or at least MY Siri is. She never understands what I am asking for.

The other day I needed the phone number for my favorite doctor on the face of the earth, Dr. Samuel J. Mann. Since he pretty much saved – maybe not my life, but surely the quality of it – I considered him THE Man.

Apparently Siri does not. In fact this was all she could come up with:

“I don’t understand ‘Man’.”

Which stopped me for a moment. You know Siri, I can relate. I don’t really understand man either.

 

 

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April 13, 2014 · 8:08 pm

South Florida Living

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If you have ever visited one of the many communities in South Florida, this will not surprise you. The level of detail is astounding.

You have to believe that this was not written in the spirit of prevention. I would like to know how many poor people got locked in there before this very detailed set of directions was drafted.

I keep envisioning the condo association from Seinfeld spending the better portion of a month drafting this sucker.

The scary thing about this is that I am surely the most likely person to get locked in there. In fact, this was the third time I had thrown out the garbage and the only reason I noticed the sign was because my dad told me to take my cell phone.

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January 5, 2014 · 11:09 am

Number Two

number-two

This post is a little gift for my big bro, for he will love this the most.

A note to preface my infantile ramblings; I grew up in a house where we never tired of bathroom humor. Or bathroom discussion, for that matter. The planet Uranus always got a laugh and was constantly used out of context. There has been major discussion about the quality and frequency of voiding one’s bowels; including joy, empathy and shared enthusiasm over each swing of regularity. Frequency was of the utmost awe-inspiring of discussions. Yes, I am sure a shrink could have a picnic with us.

Come to think of it, my parents never really contributed much to this conversation, so I guess this is more a sibling thing. Although later in life I have to admit my mom did join the discussion often. As the kids grew up they embraced this odd family tradition. Marrying into this is not easy. Gary, well, of course he jumped right in. But my poor sister-in-law did not like this one bit. Poor thing, she was cursed with two sons that brought this to new heights. One of whom, I might add coined the term ‘doody baby’ when he had gone a particularly long time without going. We actually have a full vocabulary based on this topic.

Enter the newest member of the family, my new niece… she vows that she will put an end to this age old tradition. A very strong woman indeed, but no match for our love of bathroom humor. I predict she will be joining in soon enough.

Which brings me to the photo. This bathroom resides at the old Pfizer building in Brooklyn. Yes, all the stalls were numbered, it wasn’t as if this was the only one designated for making “#2”. But the fact that I serendipitously wound up with this stall simply had to be fate, no? Of course I had to take this picture… it was my obligation. I mean, I am the one who has brought you such posts as We are #1…, It’s Toilet Season, Toilet Paper Advertising Smackdown and my absolute favorite Can it Fit in a Toilet? 

You could say I am a professional bathroom blogger. Perhaps I should start a new blog dedicated to the topic. Hmmm… names? WhoGives a Sh*t? or maybe Give a Sh*t! is more positive. Or how about Here’s the Poop. Any other suggestions? Show me some love for coming back to blogging and give me some names in the comments.

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January 2, 2014 · 7:49 pm

Body Image

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As you may know, I am all about girl power. I have raised a strong daughter and a son who has a healthy respect for women who feel good about themselves. We take pride in feeling good about who we are and blah, blah, blah blah, blah… This post features two women who surely take their ideas of strong body image to new places.

Lovely painting, no? Pretty colors. Interesting textures. Makes you feel sort of warm and happy and optimistic about your day, right? And the best part about this baby is it was painted by boobies.

Ok, sort of an infantile thing to say. But seriously, all I had to do was vow to blog again and that old Magnet For The Absurd kavorka reactivated like you won’t believe. First, I signed onto Facebook today to find this post  about boob painting from Taxi, one of my favorite sites.

Yes, boob painting. Marcey Hawk, a rather well endowed young woman, has chosen to take her two best assets and use them to paint with, taking the idea of body painting to a whole new level. This chick certainly is creative. I won’t get into her different methods here, you can read about them over on that Taxi post. The paintings are actually not bad and some of the world’s most famous bad boys are collectors.

As most of my early mornings are spent with post sharing – some professional, some just entertaining – I shared this one. Little did I know that one of my favorite cybergurls would counterpost me in the comments with one of the more outrageous things I have ever seen. And you know me, I thrive on the outrageous. Not easy to make me both wish I had unseen something and be ever so grateful that she shared it.

This one comes with a warning, it is surely not for the faint of heart. You see, as they used to say when I was in High School… tits are for kids. This, my friends, is a video about Vaginal Knitting.

No you did not read that wrong, this crazy Aussie is a ‘performer craftivist’ who spent 28 days in a gallery knitting from a skein of wool that she inserts in… her hey nanny nanny, so to speak. My favorite quote:

It’s unusual and confining. It’s restrictive, but no, it’s not painful. People push babies out of there, it’s a pretty robust area.

Robust indeed.

Honestly, even if I had not decided to blog again, this one would have taken me out of hibernation.

mfta moment

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July 4, 2013 · 12:06 am

Send in the Clowns

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I can’t help but think that dozens of clowns will come racing out of this truck when they lift the back up. I did not underestimate the creepiness of this vehicle.

Once again, poor Gary was urged to ‘catch up to that truck’ so I could get this shot. This is usually when he weighs in on whether it is funny or not.

A focus group of one.

When he decides what I am after is not funny enough I respond with, “fine, get your own damn blog.”

And he still makes sure I get the shot.

The man is a saint.

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July 2, 2013 · 10:20 pm

Ask About Our Duck Feet

duck-feet

Of course I asked. I mean, look at that sign!

There I was picking up Houdini  Iko after she tortured every person at the dog groomer  her bath today, and this sign taunted me from the counter.

Me: Laura, I’m asking about your bag of 20 duck feet. Are they real?

Laura: Yes they are.

Me: Ok, that is more than I needed to know about them.

Then I spent the rest of the day picturing Iko with 20 duck feet in her mouth at one time because she jams as many items in there as she possibly can. Someone please tell me why giving your dog duck feet (20 or any number for that matter) is desirable.

And what do they do with the rest of the duck?

UPDATE: alas, Mashable has an answer to all those footless ducks 

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June 21, 2013 · 1:00 am

Confused Supermarket

pineapples

 

Could I have been the only person who noticed this? I am pretty sure I am the only one who took a picture.

This is proof that most people are on autopilot most of the time. I did spend a little time to see if the melon sign was on the display of pineapples. (too much time on my hands?)

Wait, am I a bad person for making fun of this instead of pointing it out?

Never mind, this falls under the category of doing little things during the day to entertain myself.

 

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June 20, 2013 · 1:00 am

Anti-pervert Hairy Legs

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It has been quite awhile since something made me laugh this hard. If you are my friend on facebook I apologize for the redundancy.

This little tidbit of hysteria comes from chinasmack.

These suckers are ‘full leg of hair stockings” and according to China’s microblogging service Sina Weibo, they are ‘essential for young girls going out.’

I am thinking these would look really hot with a pair of stilettos and a short skirt. I mean, why wear a pair of modest pants or maybe a long skirt when you can totally freak out every guy you come in contact with by wearing these?

Every dad’s dream, right? There is nothing that says I love you better than a gift of hairy leg stocks for daddy’s little girl.

Why do I feel I must own a pair of these? Oh right… Magnet for the Absurd.

You are all very welcome.

Yes, you can consider me fully back to blogging regularly with this post.

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June 19, 2013 · 1:00 am

Big 10 Mom

badgers tickets

Yes, that is my desk. Yes it was a Monday morning and I had plenty of work that had to be done. And yes, I really do have that many screens.

This Monday marked the 7th year in a row (one year being a double with 2 kids involved) that I have been in charge of making sure my little Badgers are able to get their season student football tickets. If you know anything about attending a Big 10 school, you know what serious business this is.

When my daughter first went to UW you had to Fed Ex in your forms. For some reason I missed the last pick up and a friend and I drove frantically through town chasing down the Fed Ex truck. (yes, I have friends who would do this with me)

Why, you ask, is this my responsibility and not theirs? Let’s see, for at least 6 of these 7 years at least one of them was a counselor in the Adirondacks with no cell service and no computers. (worth doing it to know they could actually unplug for the summer) And this year, young Daniel is a working stiff, riding the Long Island Railroad at the exact time that the tickets went on sale.

I am happy to report I am 8 for 8 on season tics for my kids.

Next June I will have that same bittersweet feeling about not having to do this as I had when I did not have any camp trunks scattered all over my living room the second week in June.

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June 10, 2013 · 7:47 pm

Obviously Men Can’t Smell

nosefinger

Or, hey bud, your nose is more than just a place to keep your finger.

Monday 7:30 AM, returning home from an early morning dog walk.

Scene: 2o-year-old son at kitchen table in the ‘I will never get used waking up early and commuting’ intern stupor, hunched over a bowl of cereal praying no one will speak. Not just to him, but at all. Husband preparing to make a smoothie.

Me: Um… don’t you guys smell burning plastic?

Gary: No.

Danny: (silence, or at best an imperceptible grunt)

Me: Are you KIDDING me? (thinking about how the kitchen smelled oddly like we were manufacturing small plastic toys or making shrinky dinks.) Did anyone use the toaster oven or the micro this morning?

Gary: Not me.

Danny: (silence and fear that this line of questioning was not going to be short, only adding to his misery at an hour that is closer to his usual bedtime than one he has considered morning since high school)

Me: HELLOOO, no one smells this?! (now my eyes are starting to sting and the dog is coughing)

At this point I am somewhat convinced there is a direct correlation between possessing a penis and having no solid sense of smell. This realization, of course, comes from a woman who can smell an old sponge in your kitchen…

no matter how far away you live from here.

Gary: (opening the dishwasher) There you go!

And there, seared to the coil on the bottom of the dishwasher, sat the remains of a Tupperwear lid.

In red.

After using the requisite Jewish tool… the steak knife (which is an upgrade from the usual butter knife) we tossed around some brilliant ideas like using a razor blade and slicing the plastic off the coil, running another cycle to re-melt the sucker and peel it off while it is hot, or trying to ‘remove the coil’ ourselves.

Realizing that any of these would result in quadrupling the ultimate cost of the repair I called ‘my girls’ who always seem to have ‘a guy’ (why don’t I ever have a guy, I have lived her for 25 friggin years, I should have at least one guy).

Enter RALPH.

I love Ralph. He can actually smell. AND he can fix!

I love a problem I can fix. Or at least that Ralph can.

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