Tag Archives: Humor

A Nose for Gold

Have you got a Nose for Gold?

Growing up at the beach, I never had much use for those little dweebes who would pan for gold in Long Island Sound. All they ever got was a plastic container of cigarette butts.

Well, it is Connecticut's "Gold Coast" but that's not quite what they mean.  (Google Image)

Well, it is Connecticut’s “Gold Coast” but that’s not quite what they mean. (Google Image)

And on my one trip to California when I visited a ghost gold town, well, I was still not all that impressed. But at least they got them some gold. Some of them.

I can't even remember if this is the gold miner statue I saw.  (Google image)

I can’t even remember if this is the gold miner statue I saw. (Google image)

But more recently, I’m thinking that maybe I’ll try my, ummm, hand, at gold mining.

Yeah — me!

In fact, it might just be an opportunity for me to work from home.  I may actually be sitting on a gold mine. Really! Who knew!

More than for personal gain, however, I will do it in the name of science.  You see, scientist now think that this type of mining may just save the planet!  It could reduce the need for more environmentally harmful types of mining.

Oh, I guess I forgot to explain the rest.  You see, I just read that scientists are, ummm, mining for gold in unexpected places. Silver, too. And you know, they’ve found some platinum, too.  A veritable jewelry store of precious metals.

Wanna know where?

In poop.  People Poop.

Really! They’re finding all sorts of shit in there! I just read about it in an article entitled:

Scientists Want to Mine Our Poop for Gold

According to the article:

Every year, Americans are flushing a fortune down the toilet. Literally. More than 7 million tons of biosolids—treated sewage sludge—pass through US wastewater facilities annually. Contained within our shit are surprisingly large quantities of silver, gold, and platinum.

I am prodigious poop producer.   I figure, well, I’m golden.

Google Image

Google Image

I’m hiring pan sterilizers if anybody is looking for a job.

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Filed under All The News You Need, Bat-shit crazy, Childhood Traumas, Crohn's Disease, Disgustology, Extra Cash, Health and Medicine, Hey Doc?, History, Huh?, Humor, Science, Stupidity, Toilets

You Heard It Here First!

One of the benefits of my job is that I get paid to scan the news.  What could be better for a news junkie like me?

Well, today I hit the medical news jackpot!  In fact, this information actually came to me.  Electronically.

Today I learned about a whole new syndrome, that well, will have just about everybody shaking in their pants with excitement.

Restless Genital Syndrome.  RGS.

Google Image

Google Image

According to my exhaustive (5 second) web research, the man to go to if you have it is Dr. Waldinger.  (There are some things you just can’t make up.)

I can’t wait for the commercials.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Adult Traumas, Criminal Activity, Hey Doc?, Huh?, Humor, Longing for Dick, Mental Health, Science, Sex Scandals

Out of this World Facepalm

Sometimes, even a die-hard Democrat and respecter of smart people everywhere like me can’t believe what I hear Republicans say.  But, of course, with YouTube, I get to See and Hear all kinds of things.  I can replay them in case I missed something.  I can marvel that, yup, they did, in fact say something as stupid as that.  Or this.  Yup.  There’s proof.

Oregon State Representative Bill Post eulogized the passing of Leonard Nimoy on the floor of the legislature.

As Addicting Info stated:

Of course, neither Spock nor Nimoy were Republicans. Star Trek is pro-science and about a big government in search of a utopian society. Its themes were equality (although the original Star Trek was sexist) and peace. There was no money on the Starship Enterprise. There were no rich or poor. All basic needs were provided for, including health care.

One of Spock’s most famous quotes was, “the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

Don’t these folks ever listen to themselves?
*     *     *
I learned about this through Dailykos.com which directed me to Wonkette and ultimately to Addicting Info.

 

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How I Became A Famous Humor Writer

You might as well start gagging now. Because as a fake humor expert, I am bound and determined to tell you how it is done.

(Oh no!  I already violated one of the principles of writing — “Show,” don’t “Tell!”  Rats!)

When I wrote my post Trifecta! the other day, many commenters were shocked to find out that I had studied humor writing.

I’m not quite sure how to take that.

I mean, can’t you tell that this has been a life-long pursuit of mine? That I have been through decades of intensive training and Dick Van Dyke show watching?  Doesn’t my brilliant technique shine through? You know, like shinola?

I will stop being an ass now. Although being an ass is fun – and funny (see Steve Martin, for example).  And it comes so easily to some of us …

On to the Public Service Announcement

 PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT!

PSA2

Surprise is an excellent humor technique. Google Image, Natch.

 

When I said that I “studied humor writing” in Trifecta, I applied the first and most important rule of humor writing:

EXAGGERATION

So yeah, I “studied” humor writing. I took a course. One course. Online.

I’d been writing professionally — as a fake medical expert — for years; but it’s very dry. I am not. (Well, sometimes.)  But I wanted to have some fun, and so I started taking writing classes.

Humor Writing I was the second of three courses I took at Gotham Writers Workshop. (The first was Creative Writing 101 and the third was a Memoir course.) You can probably tell by the fact that I took THREE courses from them that I thought they were pretty good – or that I learned enough to justify the cost. Or that the courses coincided with baseball season. Or basketball season. Perhaps Lacrosse.

The first lesson of the class was the hardest, and most fundamental:   Written stories have to be structured differently than spoken ones or they are not funny.

Our first assignment was to tell a funny story you’d told a million times. This’ll be a breeze! I thought. I chose one that I’d been telling for 30 years to tears of laughter. After three days of trying, I posted a question on the online chat room:

“Has anybody else found that they are suddenly no longer funny?”

Everybody in the class felt they were no longer funny.

It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to write.  My hilarious — time tested — story fell flat. Writing that story up made me realize just how different humor writing is from just plain ole writing. And it made me realize that I had a lot to learn. I still do.

Anyway, if you click on the link above, you will get the synopsis of the course. It mentions a few principles of humor writing – ones that I really do use a lot. And the course led me to start this blog – (because what the hell else would I do with the stuff I wrote there?).  I am not sure it would be appropriate to sue Gotham for that, though.

There are lots of techniques and skills that I learned. The ones I use most often are:

The Rule of Three. Things are inherently funnier in threes. The Three Stooges (who I don’t think are at all funny); the Three Little Pigs; the Three Musketeers. The course taught me to look for threes whenever I was trying to be funny. It is something I do consciously now. Because for some reason it really does work. Even when I don’t use threes, I find that looking for them focuses my thinking on the two or four or however many end up in my story.

Snowballing is another good technique. That one I’m pretty sure you can figure out for yourself. Especially after this winter.

It enabled me to find my “voice.” Showed me ways to look at stupid people and present them at their, ummm, most realistic. Dialog. Comparisons to normal life. 

Two of my early blog posts were assignments in the class. They are still some of my best.

Downsizing

Manitoba Bound

I am not promoting or being paid (alas) by Gotham. But I promised to write about my humor writing studies.  The teachers taught me a lot, but much depends on the level of participation in the class.  It was great in the first two, sadly lacking in the Memoir course.

I don’t have any pretenses to being the next Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry.  But if you want to start paying me the big bucks in exchange for some snark, feel free to contact me!

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TRIFECTA!

When I studied humor writing, I was taught something called “The Rule of Three.”

As the second deity in my holy research trinity, Wikipedia, says:

The rule of three is a writing principle that suggests that things that come in threes are inherently funnier, more satisfying, or more effective than other numbers of things.[citation needed]

That is the only reason there are Three Stooges. Because two just wouldn’t be funny. Come to think of it, THREE haven’t been funny since I hit puberty. But still.

Anyway, the Rule of Three works. Three is funny.

So I was delighted this week to learn that the GOP has adopted the Rule of Three! Yes, It’s true. They are pushing the envelope for legislative giggles. Ba Da DUMB!

Google, Natch!

Google, Natch!

Have you been paying attention? Because here’s what happened just this week:

In the Ring on the Right, we have Michele Fiore, Majority Leader of the Nevada State Assembly who has a whole new take on cancer, cancer treatment and what is apparently cancer of her own mouth:

“If you have cancer, which I believe is a fungus, and we can put a pic line into your body and we’re flushing, let’s say, salt water, sodium cardonate [sic], through that line, and flushing out the fungus… These are some procedures that are not FDA-approved in America that are very inexpensive, cost-effective.”

Photo from Crooks and Liars.com

Michele standing up for freedom with Cliven Bundy’s gang. Yeh Haw! Photo from Crooks and Liars.com

It really is amazing just how inexpensive death can be — there aren’t even any copays!

As my Dad would have said, “There’s a fungus among us.” That line is the only thing I could think of to say in light of this previously unknown cancer disclosure. Thanks, Michele.

Deja vu!

Deja vu!

 

In the Other Right Hand Ring is Idaho Rep. Vito Barbieri (R) who showed once again how the GOP really, truly has no fucking clue about women – literally or figuratively.  Or anatomically.

It all happened at a hearing on Tele-medicine – there is a bill in the Idaho Legislature that would prohibit doctors from prescribing medications that can induce a miscarriage — an abortion — from doing so via telemedicine – an online consultation.   Have you seen how fucking BIG Idaho is?  Or how it is somewhat phallic looking?

As stated in the AP Article:

Dr. Julie Madsen, a physician who said she has provided various telemedicine services in Idaho, was testifying in opposition to the bill. She said some colonoscopy patients may swallow a small device to give doctors a closer look at parts of their colon.

Now wait for it.  Here it comes … Your turn, Rep Barbieri!:

“Can this same procedure then be done in a pregnancy? Swallowing a camera and helping the doctor determine what the situation is?” Barbieri asked.

Madsen replied that would be impossible because swallowed pills do not end up in the vagina.

Allow me to rephrase this:

A man who has been duly elected to office – in the United States of America which office grants him a certain measure of control over many things including women’s reproductive rights, does not understand that there is no direct link from the mouth to the uterus.

The AP article went on to state:

Barbieri later said that the question was rhetorical and intended to make a point.

I’m pretty sure that Rep Barbieri made THREE points:

  1. That he doesn’t know shit from shinola,
  2. That he should just dig a hole and crawl inside for the remainder of his life.
  3. He should try stand-up comedy because I have had too few good belly/vagina laughs lately. Until I read this.
You know where I got the stupid photo, already.

You know where I got the stupid photo, already.

Now you know how there is always a serious guy in the comedic trio? This circus of GOPers is no exception.

In the Other Other Right Ring:  Here is the MO of this trio: Idaho GOP state Rep. Christy Perry!

Christy, is (of course) a good Christian. Being a good Christian, she is “pro-life.” Well, as long as that life isn’t breathing oxygen on its own, anyway.

Because Ms. Perry is apparently pro-life only until a baby is born. Apparently she finds it perfectly OK for parents to deny their children medical care in the name of the Lord. For Religious Reasons. And, you know, for FREEDOM!

Remember at this point in the movie, they are removing his intestinal organs.  There is no camera inside there. No vagina either, come to think of it.

 

*     *     *

 

So you see, our GOP reps really have the world of comedy all figured out. Ain’t it a shame though, that they only know slapstick.

And ain’t it also a shame that we as a nation are always the ones who slip on that damn banana peel?  Because we are down on our asses until we get these folks out o’ Dodge.  And DC.  And out of your statehouse and mine.

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Heads Up!

As a woman with Crohn’s disease, knowing where the nearest toilet is is something I have to think about a lot.  Sometimes it cramps my style, makes me avoid activities I might otherwise enjoy.

So imagine my relief when I learned that, in spite of the possibility of having to “go,” I can now help out outside.

Yeah, it’s true!  You can read about it here.  Someone has invented just the thing for folks like me — A special pooper scooper the inventor calls “Loo-cy.”

A motorized combination snowplow and toilet.

Me, I am flushed with excitement over this gadget; because everybody needs to do their civic doo-ty.

*    *     *

There is a conspiracy afoot to have me think about nothing but toilets.

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A Love (?) Story — Revisited

When I tell this story, I always have to put in a disclaimer.  Sort of like Dickens at the beginning of A Christmas Carol, when he says

“It must be understood that Marley was dead, otherwise nothing strange and wonderful could have happened.”

In this case, this fact must be understood:

I was really, really nice to everyone

Promise me you’ll remember that.

Once upon a time, I had a job at a law school.  The most fun job I’ve ever had.  I was the administrative assistant to a student organization, the BSA.  Pretty much the Boy Scouts of America, law school chapter.  The BSA members were 2nd and 3rd year students who did a lot to make the first year students happier during their (relatively miserable and difficult) first year.  They did orientation, taught legal writing, answered questions on where to go, what to do.  The office was large, with comfy chairs and a couch, a full free coffee pot.  A good, friendly place to hang out.  The members did, and so did a core of 1st years who, naturally, tried to become members for their 2nd and 3rd years.

It was a wonderful job.  Basically I answered questions and was nice to people.  Always.  A smile on my face, a laugh, a soft shoulder when needed.  It was easy to be nice in such a fun job.

Substantively, I had to know what was going on with the members’ various activities, because I was the one in the office when the 1st year students had questions.  I had to know what was going on to give the  answers.  Because that was my job.  The BSA members were all nice.  Except Monte.  He wasn’t.  He was a jerk.  Totally uncooperative.  He deserved that name.

Monte was in charge of a very important program that was one of two mandatory moot court programs for all 1st year students.  Essentially, it’s where they learned how to present and argue a case.  A whole case.  They write the briefs and argued the case in front of a panel of judges.  The students had a million questions, and they were also apprehensive, because it was an important part of their first year.  They asked ME all of those questions.

But Monte was in charge and wouldn’t let me know what was going on.  He wouldn’t answer my questions.  He wouldn’t keep me informed or involved.  I invariably had no answer to give to the poor student who really needed one.

Now, it might surprise you to know this, but I really hate to look stupid.  So one day I’d had enough of being unable to help, unable to answer questions I was supposed to answer.  Unable to do my job.  So I took Monte into the back room and politely explained in the nicest possible way, why he had to do things my way.

He responded, and I quote:

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”  And he left.

Me, except I’m blond. And in color.

To this very day I have never been so mad at anyone.

I went back to my desk fuming, steam coming out of my ears, angry tears, the works.  As I stood there, shaking mad, a tall, blond 1st year student entered the office, came up to me and said – oh I don’t remember what he said.  But it was a question about that program.  Monte’s program.

“I DON’T KNOW.  YOU WILL HAVE TO ASK MONTE WHO IS A COMPLETE JERK!” I screamed at the tall, completely innocent blond guy.

He stood there, put his hands on his hips, shook his head and left the office.  He never returned.

I remember it clearly.  Well, except all I can see in my memory is the outline of a tall, faceless blond guy.  Standing there, hands on his hips, shaking his head and clearly thinking “what a bitch she is not very helpful.”

John did not propose then and there.

In fact, we didn’t even cross paths again that we know about during the two years we were there together.  We met again in DC through a guy I was dating who worked with John.  Years after I broke up with the other guy, John asked me out after we met up again at a party.

Whenever someone asks us the “how did you two meet?” question, well, I make sure I tell the story.  Because John claims I fired nuclear weapons at him, which is a slight exaggeration.  And it makes me look bad.

Really, I didn’t shoot at him.

But hey, my husband can never claim that he didn’t know I could be a bitch.  And that has been worth its weight in gold (or nukes) for almost 30 years.

*    *    *

This is an old piece that I’m replaying for Valentine’s Day because, well, it’s one of my favorite “love” stories.  And because there are lots of new followers who didn’t read it.  If you already read it, you can stop here.  See?  I told you I was nice!

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