Tag Archives: Word Press

It’s a Joke, Son

My husband John makes a point of not laughing at my jokes.  He pretends that I am not the funniest person he knows — even though I often hear him repeating my zingers with a chuckle.  John has helpfully suggested that whenever I am “trying” to be funny, that I should hold up a flag to let the world know.  I counter that he is humor challenged.

As it turns out, I recently learned that there are loads of humor challenged folks.

And they read our blogs!

SHIT!

Now most of you know my good bloggin’ buddy, Peg-O-Leg.  Well, Peg was Freshly Pressed just yesterday!  It was a delayed FP’ing for a post she wrote over a month ago, entitled: Facebook Ruined My Life, Now They Must Pay.  It’s about how she wants to sue Facebook because somebody put up an embarrassing picture of her from her childhood.

It was a joke, son.

But the thing is, she got comments from strangers criticizing her for suing Facebook.  I’m not joking, she got nasty comments about the lawsuit she was clearly making up for a humor blog.

Just how many humor challenged folks are there?

***

Peg’s predicament reminded me of one of my very early posts.  I couldn’t resist reposting it, because, well, it was my very first blogging experience with possibly humor challenged folks.

Manitoba Bound

It’s time to export all the stupid people in the United States to another country.  Congress will go along with it as long as we can designate “stupid people” a commodity.  A trade lawyer I consulted suggested that designating them as “spare parts” under the Anti-Counterfeit Trade Agreement would permit widespread exportation of stupid people from all over the country.  It would also ensure that only “real” stupid people and not fake or “counterfeit” stupid people qualify.  US export numbers will skyrocket, the debt limit will take care of itself, and we won’t owe China a penny.  Or a Yuan.  The economy will be saved.  More importantly, I won’t have to deal with them any more.

I decided to send them to Canada – nobody lives there, anyway.  Manitoba, to be exact.  Why?  It’s easier to spell than “Saskatchewan.”  Manitoba is right there in the middle of the continent where the stupid people won’t be able to hurt themselves.  Like one big padded room.   They will be safe, happy, well cared for.  Cable TV.  Internet access — even broadband.  I’m not unkind, you know.  A team of teenagers will be available to help them turn on their TVs, stereos, DVD players, mobile phones.  Friends and family members can visit anytime.

There are a lot of stupid people in the US, you say, so where do we start?   We’re starting with the ones that bug me the most.  It’s only fair.  After all I am the brains here.

I deal with stupid people every day.  I work in medical products litigation.  Stupid people believe the TV lawyers’ mantra “Sue then Retire.”  Each time I walk into my office, I am smacked upside the head by the stupid actions of stupid people who sue for big bucks.  I learn way too much about them, sort of like when you interrupt your 74-year-old uncle in the shower.  You’d be happier without the image.

          I want them outta here.

 Here’s a contender:

 A woman named Mona was sick.   Mona went to her doctor and was given a 30 day prescription for the drug that would treat her.  She took it to the pharmacy where the pharmacist typed up a label and put it onto the bottle that the manufacturer dispensed the tablets in, because conveniently, those pills already came packaged in bottles of 30 pills.  Terrific!  Safe!  Foolproof!  How many times have you gotten medicine this way?  Loads of times, I wager.  Have you gotten it that way lately?  Nope.  Thank Mona.

Now Mona is a very precise woman.  She carefully monitors everything.  She uses a pedometer to count her steps, compares food package labels. Understands the food pyramid.  She doesn’t walk when the “Don’t Walk” sign starts blinking.  She knows the calorie, carbohydrate and vitamin content of everything she swallows. Brushes her hair precisely 100 strokes each night.  Flosses.  Therefore, she read the label that came with the pills from the drugstore, too.  She opened the sealed package, and poured out her first dose.  That’s when Mona’s ticket to Manitoba was punched.

Because when she dumped out that first pill into her hand, she also poured out a tiny crunchy plastic package about a half inch square.  It contained salicylic acid – packages like that are put into many products to help keep the contents dry and to prevent mold.  The little package in her hand said “DO NOT EAT.”  So she didn’t.  At all.  She didn’t eat for 30 days while she took her medicine.

She didn’t call her doctor and scream:

          “You never told me I couldn’t eat!” 

She did not call the pharmacist and say:

          “Can I at least have toast?  Or Jell-O?”  

And when she got very ill from (1) being stupid and (2) not eating for 30 days, did she feel embarrassed?  Did she pack for Manitoba?  No.  She sued the pharmacy and the drug manufacturer for millions of dollars for pain, suffering, and lost wages.  She won.

So Mona goes first.

And the woman who fell into the shopping mall fountain while texting and then sued the shopping mall?  You saw her.  She went onto local and national news shows to tell the story and to complain that no one helped her after she fell.  She said repeatedly that she was embarrassed that everyone she knew had seen her fall into the fountain on YouTube.  She was upset at being called “Fountain Lady.”  She appeared on television voluntarily, where they replayed the video three times for people like me who hadn’t yet enjoyed it.  She made absolutely sure that “Fountain Lady” was unmasked, because this caption appeared at the bottom left of the TV screen:

CATHY CRUZ MARRERO

“FOUNTAIN LADY” FIGHTS BACK

Her ticket is printing now.

 

 

113 Comments

Filed under Adult Traumas, Bloggin' Buddies, Conspicuous consumption, Criminal Activity, Diet tips, Disgustology, Health and Medicine, Huh?, Humor, Law, Mental Health, Stupidity, Word Press

Nichole

Sadly, this story does not have a happy ending.

Nicole

The Web is a wonderful tool to help people. Please reblog this and spread Nichole’s face around WordPress, Twitter, Facebook, etc.

She could be anybody’s sister, daughter, friend.

5 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized, Word Press

Biting Me

Do you ever feel you are being bitten in the butt by your own advice?  Well, that’s how I’m feeling right now.  And it is, well, it’s a bit odd.  Because as I’m sure you’ve noticed, my advice is usually something you can depend on.  Live by.  Hang your hat on.

You see, a while back, my blogging buddy TwinDaddy of StuphBlog wrote a post about how uncomfortable he is getting compliments.

Naturally, being the good friend/know-it-all that I am, I gave him a piece of advice:

“[G]et used to it, TwinDaddy,” I said in the comments.  “We folks who hang out here think you’re swell.  Now say thanks and smile.”

And isn’t that the proper way to respond to a compliment?  No hemming and hawing, no self-deprecating remarks, no false modesty.  Just a simple thank you and a smile.

But tonight I find myself in a bit of a dilemma.  A quandary.  A pickle.  And well, I’m not sure if my own advice isn’t coming back to bite me.  Because I’ve gotten a compliment and I don’t really know how to respond.

I feel like hemming and hawing.

I feel like making a self-depreciating remark.

I feel like being unusually/unnaturally modest.

You see, the last week was a fantastic one here at FiftyFourAndAHalf.  Out of the STAT-is-sphere, if you know what I mean.  And it follows closely on my tour of the ‘sphere, with Peg and Darla and Michelle.   March has been a blast.

And it is ending just as well as it began!  But it is a bit confusing.  Because this past week, I’ve gotten more followers than I got in the entire rest of my nearly two years of blogging.

Cool, you say.  Congratulations!  I want to puncture her ego (oh, wait, you wouldn’t say that to me, would you — you’re my friend!) But the thing is, I don’t know how to accept this ummm, compliment.  Why not?  Why not just smile and say thank you?

Because in the last week, I haven’t written a word.  Nope.  Not one.

So I’m trying to figure out if the secret to getting more followers is to, ummm, not write anything.

To my new bloggin’ buddies – welcome.  I’m in the process of checking out your blogs.  Thanks for stopping by here and letting me razz you a bit.  Thank you for following me.  I’m smiling.

Google Image

Google Image

131 Comments

Filed under Bloggin' Buddies, Humor, Writing

For Peg O’Leg, Me and Medbh and For What Should Have Been

One if the best things about blogs/bloggers/blogging is the camaraderie.  Because the more we all write blogs, the more we all read blogs and the more we all comment on each other’s blogs, the more fun we have.  And of course, the more likely we are to meet fellow bloggers face to face in the unemployment line.

No, no, no.  That’s not what I mean.

What I mean is that, we bloggers like to spread the wealth. Share the fun.  Tell each other about other fun places to visit and enjoy.  Other folks’ blogs.  The more the merrier.  (Hell, who wants to work at work anyway.)

Today I am honored to be pulled along in the wake of one of the funniest of all of my bloggin’ buddies, Peg O’Leg at her blog Peg-O-Leg’s Ramblings.  Yup, today I’m posted over at Peg’s in her pretty darn new Wednesday feature called

“THIS One Should Have Been Freshly Pressed”!

Most of you know Peg as a gifted humor writer who can stand her ground among other brilliant Irish writers like James Joyce, Bram Stoker and Medbh McGuckian.  Unlike Joyce, Peg is NEVER boring.  Unlike Stoker, Peg never terrifies us.  And unlike Medbh McGuckian, we all know who Peg IS.  Plus we can spell her name, which is nice.

Now Peg created her “Should Have Been FP’d” feature after realizing that all of us bloggers, from time to time, hit the PUBLISH button thinking-hoping-wishing that the brilliant piece we’ve just posted will hit the Big Time.  Reach the masses.  Be Freshly Pressed.  And then it misses.  It doesn’t.  It isn’t FP’d.  Our hearts are broken when only two people end up reading that brilliant post, our STATS tank, and we need to drown our whines, in wine, ice cream and chocolate.  Or, in Peg’s case, in anything Reese’s.

This has happened to you.  It has happened to me.  But Peg, with her big heart and blog feature eased my pain.  So head on over to Peg’s to sample one of my favorite humor pieces and take in a big bunch of Peg’s.  Please?  I bribed her into including me in the feature by promising her brilliant stats.  Don’t let me down!

The Ultimate Honor

The Ultimate Honor

Here’s the link in case you missed the other three links:  http://pegoleg.com/.  Not that I’m anxious, mind you.  I just don’t have enough chocolate on hand to cope if you don’t head on over to Peg’s.

19 Comments

Filed under Bloggin' Buddies, Books, Freshly Pegged, Humor, Writing

Nobody knows the notifications I see

They’re a tease.  There on my iPhone before I “Slide to Open.”  Responses to all the incredibly clever comments I’ve made since Friday.

But when I turn on the phone – I got nothin’.

When I turn on the computer – I got nothin’.

When I try to post this little piece to bitch at Word Press — I got nothin’

Word Press?  What the fuck are you doing?

47 Comments

Filed under Humor