Tag Archives: humor

August 5, 2014 · 2:06 pm

CSI Nursery School

csi

 

This!

I saw this in a parking lot last Sunday and it struck me as so funny. Is this where the little investigators go to train?  Instead of blocks and legos do they do fingerprint dusting and dna testing?

Oddly enough, CSI does not stand for Crime Scene Investigation, but rather Congregation Sons of Israel. Apparently no one thought about how ridiculous this might be when they abbreviated their synagogue name. But then to make a sticker for the nursery school (I thought the PC name for that is pre-school), and use a handprint, no less… no one? Not a soul thought about the humor?

Personally, I would have done a fingerprint as a logo instead of a handprint, but hey, not everyone is a graphic professional.

Having sat on a synagogue board in the past – where the discussion of roof tiles and catering chairs, traffic patterns and fundraising efforts are discussed for weeks on end… this?

Yep, I will crown this with the famous MFTA status.

(And yes, I think I might be back to blogging. There are simply too many wonderful things that amuse me lately not to share.)

mfta approved

 

 

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April 30, 2014 · 4:12 pm

On Perfection

Yes, I am trying to find my way back here regularly. Be patient, I am working on it. And as I was thinking about how I strive to always reach my own expectations of what the perfect me is supposed to be, the following video came up in my Facebook stream.

Today I will bring you one of the best things that came out of starting this blog… meeting Darylle Pollack. Our paths crossed in such crazy ways. First we blogged together at the now defunct 50-something mom blog (where I lied about my age at 49 to get in, how funny is that?). Then on some crazy winter day when my daughter was a freshman at UW, I tweeted something about the weather gods being kind so my daughter could get out of Madison safely. Moments later I received  a tweet back from Darryle that she, too, had a kid there. From then on we became instant friends.

Everyone should have a Darryle in their lives. So today I am sharing her with you. Enjoy.

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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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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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June 20, 2013 · 1:00 am

Anti-pervert Hairy Legs

anti-pervert-hairy-stockings-for-girls

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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May 5, 2013 · 10:35 pm

Who Writes This Crap

charmin

Pun intended.

‘We all go. Why not enjoy the go?’

Hey Charmin, what were you guys thinking?

I am in the business. I am fully aware of the countless taglines submitted, the late nights getting silly around a conference table laden with candy, the absurd options that come out of these sessions and the painful layers of approvals.

I cannot help but think this one was a joke that somehow slipped into the pile and someone who was running out to catch a plane or go to a kid’s soccer game signed off on it without thinking.

Because, you know, even those of us who ‘enjoy the go’ – and believe me, I am one of them – know that this is just too absurd to be real. If you must know, bathroom humor and discussion of toileting has always been a favorite topic in my family. The joke is that it only takes about 15 minutes when we are all together before the discussion turns to… going. So if anyone would be the market for this, it would be us. But it sort of falls flat for me.

Now don’t get me going on the ‘Ultra Suave’ subhead to Ultra Soft. (picturing a guy with an ascot sitting on the bowl practicing smooth pick up lines) *There is nothing like humor when you are your own target… it was just pointed out to me that Ultra Suave is the Spanish translation for Ultra Soft… damn, apparently I would have done poorly on that trip to Spain. Imagine the trouble I could have gotten myself into there.

I will give this brand credit for their ‘sitorsquat’ public restroom app. Although, if I am not mistaken, they stole this idea from George Castanza.

FYI, I am a loyal user of Charmin despite their silly taglines and even though I know it is bad for the environment. There are some places I will not sacrifice, and let’s face it, butt suave is where it’s at.

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April 7, 2013 · 8:58 am

You CAN pick your friend’s nose

Corbis-nose picking1

Remember that stupid saying,”You can pick your friends; and you can pick your nose; but you can’t pick your friend’s nose”?

I never really got that. I mean, people do all sorts of weird stuff with orifices (or is that orifici?), I would imagine a little nose picking amongst friends might be going on out there with the non-germphobic crowd.

I digress, this post was spawned by an email from the stock photography site, Corbis. I have been a Corbis customer since the olden days of graphic design when they would send out these delicious print volumes of stock photo images and we would flip through the pages to choose the right image. And instead of emails, we would receive teaser postcards with images like these to get us to call and do a search. Yes, I am aware this is the Art Director’s equivalent of the ‘I used to walk to school 10 miles in the snow’ story that my dad used to tell us. All you youngun’s, you will have these stories about archaic, clunky handheld mobile devices instead of the chip behind their ear that your kids will have.

Ughh… digressing again. The point is, the other morning, on a particularly difficult day for me (stay tuned for more on that on Tuesday), the photo above showed up in my inbox. It had that Sleeper-esque feeling about it and just the visual made me laugh. Their 20% headline was excellent for their purpose, but this headline popped into my head:

You CAN pick your friend’s nose.

I know, I am brilliant. What a lovely promo for a plastic surgeon… maybe a 2 for 1 deal! It made me laugh on a morning that laughing was the last thing I thought I would do, so thanks Corbis. But, the best part was yet to come when I clicked over to their site (yes it worked, they got the click-through from me and put Corbis top of mind), I found this photo… the pay off.

The proverbial ‘picked nose’.

corbis-nosepicking2

Yeh it could be time to pitch a plastic surgery team. Anyone in? Other headline ideas?

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February 20, 2013 · 10:35 pm

Lady Anti-Monkey Butt

anit-monkey-butt

I saw this the other day in the oddest of places… the hardware store. I am still unclear why it was on the shelf next to the Duck Tape (not to be confused with the Duct Tape).

Perhaps this was the animal shelf.

I had a vague memory of this stuff and went back into my archives to find that I had written about the male version back in October 09. Yes, I have been writing that long… much longer actually; about stuff like anti-friction powder, so yes, you could say I have an impressive body of work.

I simply love the hot pink butt on this monkey. The pink bow, the thumbs up, the crazy grin of anti-friction relief, the pearl earrings for G-d’s sake… she is just fabulous.

I think I was drawn to her human stance because I just finished a 582 page book about a talking chimp. I have this odd feeling that all the animals around me can really talk but they are clamming up because they don’t want to make a scene.

No, I don’t think I have snapped.

Back to the powder. Anti-friction? Is it me, or do I just not feel that there is so much butt friction in my daily life that I need something to counter it. Perhaps it is this – my son always complains about a condition he calls swamp ass. So the first thing I thought of when I saw this was how great it would be for lady swamp ass. You know, like the Virginia Slims of ass relief. And then I read that post from a few years ago and I had the same thought (sans the Virginia Slims).

So now I am snapping AND losing my memory.

Who cares. The thing that counts is that I am blogging again. And after a long period of being serious, I feel compelled to be absurd again. That can’t be bad (not as bad as butt friction, anyway).

So, for those of you who missed me and were starting to complain…

You asked for it!

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January 21, 2013 · 10:57 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday – As Long as You’ve Got Your Health

sprined-ankle-and -dog

My nana used to say this all the time. As would be fitting for a young person I used to smile sweetly in response and go about my business without giving it much thought. I mean, older people said stuff like this all the time, right?

In the last almost 3 months I have thought about this often and I am pretty sure Nana is waving that perfectly manicured finger at me from wherever she is. I can just about hear her signature, ‘Now, Amy Dear… I TOLD you!”, echoing in my head. (For a while I was convinced she thought Dear was my middle name).

For those who were regular readers, you have noticed – and complained I might add, in an endearing way – about my sparse postings. I am working on getting back here, but it seems I am a rolling series of calamities waiting to happen.

Not wanting to bore you with the blow by blow details, let’s just say I have run the gamut. I have decided that rather than bitch about it I will try to point out the humor in what I hope is the tail end of this run.

  1. After 2 rounds of sinus infections and countless antibiotics, I finally felt as if I could breathe clearly again and all was good with the world. That is when while making the bed, the dog decided to ‘help’ and popped me so hard in the nose I almost passed out. As I ran to the bathroom, bleeding profusely, it occurred to me I had never known what is was like to take a hit to the face. It sucks, btw. And breathing… not going to lie, it’s not so great.
  2. If you remember, I had a little ‘mishap’ with my blood pressure and they changed my meds. All was good with the world till…. I looked down to find my Aunt Bessie’s ankle on the end of my right foot. Yeh, that’s right, I was pretty much in the market for support hose and a hairnet. (BTW, I am unsure whether I had an Aunt Bessie or if she had swollen ankles but it makes the story better so go with it). I called the doc, he changed my meds, the ankle started to go down, I tossed the hairnet and all was good with the world. Until…
  3. I slipped on some towels and fell down the stairs carrying 2 laundry baskets and sprained the same friggin’ ankle! Yeh, that’s right, the one I was supposed to watch for swelling to make sure the new meds were working right! I was, however, wearing shorts and sneakers getting ready to go on the elliptical, so I am deeming this a sports injury. (Please give me this one)

The moral of this story? Jewish girls should not do laundry? Dogs should not make the bed? Nope.

The moral of this story is that Nana was right!

So if you happen to see me gimping down the street, be kind. Offer me a little bubble plastic. Or maybe a helmet. And remember:

As long as you’ve got your health…

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December 4, 2012 · 10:47 pm

Fun With International Symbols

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I work long hours. My office is in the basement and every once in awhile you can find me laughing out loud down here. You know my motto, it is always good to find little things to amuse yourself.

Last night I was doing an image search for an infographic project and I needed to weed through pages of stock icon art. I almost passed this one by, but (no pun intended) the yellow struck me and I stopped. Then I tilted my head a bit and took another look. Was this what I thought it was? Um… yeh. The search term field had it spelled out loud and clear:

Rectal exam.

International symbol for rectal exam?! Well, I suppose this would come in handy in a foreign country. You know, when you are having some intestinal distress and taking over the counter meds doesn’t make as much sense as having a friggin’ rectal by someone who does not speak your language. Would this be off the street signage? Exactly where would we find this symbol?

I also came across this series:

stock-illustration-16750656-toilet-bathroom-pregnant-handicap-public-sign-icon

 

Not sure why mom/baby, wheel chair guy and trash man find their way to same page as pee boy and squatting pee boy (what the hell is that?) BTW, I believe the little squatter is wearing a shirt and no pants… wrong on all sorts of level. I love the legs up on the toilet guy. That would come in handy when illustrating a piece about perverts that hide in ladies rooms. Or my fave – the kneeling pucker, AKA the international symbol for  college freshman.

Anyone want to take a crack at the one next to pukey boy? Does that illustrate the pain one feels when trying to flush one’s foot down the toilet?

OK, I admit it. Sometimes my job is more fun than recreation. Sometimes my job IS recreation.

And seriously, who can pass up a little bathroom humor.

Thanks istockphoto, for an entertaining evening.

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