The Lighter Side

Move Over Elf On the Shelf

2013-12-11T15:26:00.000-08:00

“Elf on the Shelf.” What an ingenious way of reminding kids that Santa is watching and that they need to be on their best behavior during this wonderful and festive time of year. The only problem is that it's so short lived and the Elf disappears back to the North Pole shortly after Christmas, leaving parents with few alternatives for keeping their kids on their best behavior the rest of the year. That is, until today.

I am excited to announce that I have come up with my own brilliant idea for influencing children’s behavior, much like Elf on the Shelf, only with applications that will last year round. Introducing “Monster in the Closet”, the completely fun (for parents) way of scaring the hell out of their kids into behaving. Simply hide the monster at night where your children can find it the next day creepily watching them. After reading them the wonderful and imaginative story that comes with it, your children will be too frightened to behave badly. In the story we discover a monster has been sent to your child’s home in hope of dragging one or more of them, if caught misbehaving, back with it to Monsterland, where if it doesn’t eat them first as part of its dinner stew, will have them performing hard labor in one of its many “Monster Camps”, much like what you would find in North Korea, only worse.

What constitutes naughty behavior, you might ask? Simple enough - whatever the parents deem to be naughty. It could be throwing tantrums, fighting with siblings, back talking parents, getting bad grades, not doing chores, etc. The list can go on and on. When a bad behavior is presenting itself by a child a parent merely needs to point out that they “sure hope the Monster in the Closet isn’t watching them,” and watch as the child instantly stops what they were doing like magic. Parents will be delighted at the hours of good behavior “Monster in the Closet” brings into their homes. Might I suggest when first reading the book that you and your children come up with a name for your monster, it can be a real bonding experience for your entire family.

I’m sure many of you are probably wondering, can this be considered cruel? To which the answer is, absolutely. Could I possibly get in trouble for doing this? There’s a great chance that you could. Does this thing really even work? Yes, unbelievably well. In fact, no children psychologists will recommend it because they know how much business they will lose because it works so well. That's a promise, which is so much better than a money back guarantee, just ask any politicion that tried to sell you on ObamaCare. And like I said, the best part of all of this is that it lasts all year long while knock-offs like Elf on the Shelf last for only a very short season. So why bribe your kids into behaving well for a short time when you can scare them into being good for a lifetime? Monster in the closet is a keepsake every young family should have as it's sure to build memories that will last a lifetime.

Real or Fake?

2013-12-04T00:58:00.000-08:00

The great question of which is better, real or fake, has gone on throughout the ages. Supporters of “real” will say we need to enjoy the natural beauty God has given us. We should be happy with “au naturale” and not be ashamed of it. Supporters of “fake” will insist they enjoy having something crafted for its beauty; something that is built to look great and withstand the test of time. And these same people will insist that nobody should judge them for choosing to go “fake”…it’s their choice after all and nobody else’s. With the Christmas season upon us, the debate over a real or fake Christmas tree is once again rekindled.

For me and my family, we have chosen to go fake, but it hasn’t always been that way and it certainly wasn’t an easy choice. I used to be a believer in going natural, the way God had intended it to be. I had convinced myself I was happier this way. Then one Christmas my whole attitude changed. I noticed several weeks after setting up the tree (the day after Thanksgiving of course), how misshapen it was. I found myself constantly adjusting the tree in hopes of finding the perfect side for facing out. It was during one of these particular moments of adjusting that I noticed how badly the tree branches were drooping. They were not as perky an upright as they had once been. They were drooping so badly that the ornaments seemed to have a hard time staying on the tree as I was constantly picking them up and replacing them. It dawned on me that the hours of our small kids pulling on the branches in attempt to get at the wonderful ornaments as well as the amount of time that had gone by since the tree had been cut down had started to really take its toll on the poor tree. Yes, I partially blame our kids for causing the tree’s droopiness. It just wasn’t as upright and full like it had been when it had been freshly cut and brought home from the tree farm. The lower branches drooped so badly towards the ground that we were unable to even fit any large gifts under the tree, and instead had to settle on trying to fit only small flat gifts under it such as books or clothing, you know, the boring stuff. The beautiful train that we had circling the base of the tree was completely hidden from the saggy branches.

The point at which it really hit me at how saggy, droopy, and lifeless our tree looked, however, occurred during a Christmas party we held at our house about a week before Christmas. Nobody said anything out right or to my face, but their disapproving stares and looks of pity towards the droopy tree didn’t go unnoticed by me. I felt embarrassed, I felt ashamed. I felt uncomfortable to be in my own house while guests were there. I know I had been taught my whole life that I should always be happy with the tree that we had received and not try to compare it to others, but as I watched guests, in my house, stare at my tree in pity, I couldn’t help but think about all the wonderful trees some of my friends had in their homes, many of which were fake but were beautiful. It was at that moment I longed for the perfect tree and decided I would do what was necessary to get it, even if it meant purchasing a fake one.

I went out the very next day to Home Depot and after consulting with a garden specialist there, settled on the prefect tree. I was surprised at how real it looked and felt. Sure it cost me a good chunk of change but the whole process was so easy and the garden specialist took great care of me and helped me feel comfortable throughout the whole procedure. The best part of the whole thing was that I was able to pick out the exact size I wanted. The key is not to go too large but too pick the right size to match the home. Really though, in the end, just make sure it is a size of tree you are happy with because you’ll most likely have it the rest of your life. They build these things to last nowadays, not like the first ones they came out with where people were having lots of problems with them breaking and had to have them removed from their homes because of the complications.

The tree I ended up with was full, perky, and beautiful. It didn’t sag or droop like the real one, even weeks after Christmas was over and I was still too lazy to take it down. Well, that and the fact that now that I had the fake tree I wanted people to be able to see it in all its unbridled glory. Finally I had something I could be proud of and I wanted it on display for the whole world to see. No more trying to hide it. I had spent good money on it and wanted people to notice. It’s funny because now when people come over and it’s up, people are always amazed at how real it looks and are asking if they can touch it because they just can’t believe it could possibly be fake. It sure makes me feel good.

So yes, I am the proud owner of a fake tree, and you know what? It’s FANTASTIC!

"Let's Move" Away From This Healthy Crap

2013-09-07T10:59:00.001-07:00

So it seems that Michelle Obama's "Let's Move" anti-obesity program has become the "Let's Move Away From This Anti-obesity Program" program, as kids are literally scrambling to get away from it. Apparently kids don't like food that tastes very similar to card board and wood chips. Who could have guessed? Either way though it looks like her program has been quite a success by getting kids to do exactly what it was designed to do...move! Even if it is just to avoid the food offered by the program.

Many parents have commented on the success of the program, saying things like, "I've never seen my kid run faster in their life just to avoid something...not even from chores."

It’s hard to discount the huge success the program is having on getting children to move even though the "Let's Move" program started from a simple mistake by the First Lady. Supposedly the original intent of the program was meant to be an after school program for children to watch movies and socialize with one another called "Let's Movie." However after a tragic spelling mistake, in which the ‘i’ was dropped in ‘movie’, the program became "Let's Move", which left Michelle and the rest of her team scrambling to come up with recipes designed at eating more healthy. This explains why the food tastes like crap and why kids are literally running away from it.

When asked about the original program and the spelling mistake, Michelle Obama acknowledged that spelling was not her strong suit and never has been. "You should have seen my spelling mistakes in college," she said. We would love to verify her statement, however, since she and the President, continue to refuse to release their college transcripts while maintaining how transparent this administration has been, we are unable to do so at this time.

When asked if she's seen a difference in her own kids because of the program, the First Lady responded by saying, "Sasha and Malia? Oh no, those two wouldn't be caught dead eating that crap. I'm just stoked if they'll even try their vegetables at dinner and that’s typically only after adding lots of butter and promising them candy afterwards if they’ll eat it. I'm not going to force a program like 'Let's Move' on them. That would just be cruel and I'm a much better parent than that. But I would like to take this moment if I could to remind the rest of the nation to get out and 'Let's Move' to better health."

Fun Facts On America's most Beloved Pet, the Goldfish

2013-08-05T16:06:00.001-07:00

Did you know that the average life span of a goldfish is 20 years? I had no idea they could live that long. Of course when placed in a tank with a piranha their average life span decreases to 20 seconds. Depending on how hungry the piranha is of course.

Also it is a known fact that if you keep a goldfish in the dark it will eventually turn white. Upon hearing this news, Rev. Al Sharpton has said he plans to take a serious look into this claim before planning any formal protests or taking any specific legal action against goldfish in general. However, he does feel that there are many other colors the goldfish could turn besides white and hopes they will consider these other colors just as equally. He also refused to rule out asking Eric Holder and the DOJ to look into this matter as well.

The Science of Goose Bumps

2013-08-05T15:44:00.000-07:00

I thought this was interesting. When you get goose bumps when you are cold, and the hair stands up, the hair helps to trap air against the skin, making you feel warmer by keeping in your body heat. My wife didn't find this quite as interesting as I had when I gave her a similar explanation right after farting under our covers last night. In fact she seemed pretty disgusted, even after I explained that it was, simply, science at work and that the covers was actually helping to keep the warm air in. And to think, that she is the scientist.

Watch Out, Here Comes a Temper Tantrum

2013-08-05T15:36:00.000-07:00

In ten minutes, a hurricane releases more energy than all the world's nuclear weapons combined. But this is still only a fraction of the energy released during a ten minute tantrum from a 3 year old. Scientists are looking into way to harness this energy, without destroying the world. Apparently it's not as easy as taking candy from a baby...although that will most certainly cause a tantrum.

Butt It's a Photocopier

2013-08-05T15:28:00.001-07:00

23% of all photocopier faults worldwide is caused by people sitting on them and photocopying their butts. What I gather from this statistic is that there is a real market for a photocopying toilet. You know, something with the photo printing abilities of a photocopier but the long lasting durability of a toilet. Move over Bishub, introducing the Shizzhub!

Minvans and Adult Diapers

2013-08-05T15:22:00.000-07:00

As a lot of you know, I drive a minivan. Or maybe I should say I actually own and drive a truck but our family vehicle is a minivan. I have people all the time ask me why I chose to purchase and own a minivan, as if I had a choice in the matter. Come on people. I have 4 kids, a wife, and a crapload of stuff to haul around. A Honda Civic or Toyota Prius ain't gonna cut it. I find this question to b...e a little offensive because it's not something you choose to do but it's something that happens to you. It would be like asking someone who has cancer why they chose to have cancer. Nobody chooses to have cancer just as nobody chooses to own a minivan, it just happens.

I look at minivans much in the same way I do adult diapers. When it comes down to it nobody wants you to know they have it or want you to see them in it, but it has it's purpose and it certainly makes life a helluva lot easier. Life happens, and eventually you realize that these things (adult diapers and minivans) are inescapable. Reluctantly you come to realize that you have no choice but to submit yourself to them, knowing in the end, as hard as it may be to accept, that it really is for the best.

To Bee or Not to Bee, That is the Question

2013-07-30T14:33:00.000-07:00

So this morning at work in honor of the high number of bee stings some of our employees have been experiencing this summer I decided to read of some interesting bee facts during our weekly safety meeting. Here is a list of some of those facts (in quotes) and a few of my own thoughts on them as well.

“Bees can count to four.” – Big deal. Can they count backwards from four. All other numbers elude them I guess.

“Honey bees can fly up to 15 miles per hour.” – They have been recorded at even faster speeds than that but usually when stuck to the windshield of a moving vehicle. I guess there is a rule or something about the bees having to be alive in order for the speed to officially count. Dumb rule if you ask me.

“Bees and wasps are some of the most feared insects due to their ability to sting and their great mobility.” – This is why I refer to them as the ninjas of the insect world.

“There are 314 million people who currently live in the US. Bee stings cause between 40-60 deaths each year on average in the US.” – What I gather from all of this is that you have a much greater chance of dying from a bee sting if you are actually stung by a bee than you would if you weren’t stung by a bee. Scary stuff.

“Honey bees will travel up to 3 miles from their hive in search of food.” – Lazy insects. I’ve been known to travel over 20 miles just to get to the nearest McDonalds for food and that includes during rush hour.

“The Honey bee Queen may lay 600-800 or even 1,500 eggs each day during her lifetime.” – This is where the expression “busy bee” comes from. It’s much nicer than saying “bee slut.”

“The only insect who produces food for humans are honey bees.” – Oh really? Then what is it that my collection of dung beetles produces that I’ve been eating all of these years, if not food? It makes a great cracker spread, that’s all I know.

“Honey bees never sleep.” – Who could, with that constant and annoying buzzing sound around all the time? No wonder why bees are so easily angered…they are tired all the time.

“Wasps that have consumed fermented juices have been observed, eventually, to become drunk and pass out.” – If they get caught flying drunk they are likely to get a BUI (Buzzing Under the Influence). Is this considered “sleeping on the job” if Worker bees are caught doing this? You’d have to think that the Queen bee would always be drunk with as many kids as she has, or at least she’s gotta have a good “buzz” going all the time. Get it buzz?

“Bees can recognize human faces.” – Which is why you should never commit a crime in front of a bee because they’ll recognize your face in a police lineup. Also don’t commit a crime in front of an elephant because obviously, they never forget. I hear the F.bee.I is looking at using bees in helping identify people out of large crowds.

“The only bees that die after they sting you are honey bees.” – Live like a honey bee, die like a honey bee, is what I always say.

“Wasps on the other hand are able to sting repeatedly.” – It’s no wonder why I hate wasps so much.

“Bees communicate with each other by dancing and by using pheromones.” – Pheromones are a nice way of saying “farts and body odor.”

“Brains of bees are the size of a sesame seed.” – Which explains why they can only count to four…it’s all they have room for. But it doesn’t explain why they are so good at recognizing people’s faces.

“Honey bees have to consume about 8 pounds of food to produce one pound of beeswax.” – That’s nothing…I have to consume a whole heck of a lot of food just to produce a little ear wax.

“Honey bees are responsible for pollinating approximately 80% of all fruit, vegetables, and seed crops in the US.” – The other 20% of fruits, vegetables, and seed crops in the US are pollinated at the hands of illegal immigrants. It’s no wonder the bee population is on the decline…Illegal immigrants are taking all their jobs.

“Honey bees are designated “state insect” in 12 different states.” – But if you ask any bees how many states they are listed as the “state insect” in, the answer is always the same…four!

“Honey bees do not actually “make” honey, but instead they convert the nectar they gather from the flowers to the thicker honey, by constantly regurgitating it and allowing it to dehydrate.” – Makes me wonder what our puke might taste like if we put it through the same process. Yummy!

“The honey bee is believed to be introduced to this continent by the European Settlers and Native American’s referred to the honey bee as the “White Man’s Fly.”” – I’ve heard the same expression before, only it was when I accidently had the zipper to my pants down in a predominately black neighborhood.

“The Queen bee receives about 90,000,000 sperm from mating with a male but she controls how they are used.” – Nice to see females are the same no matter the species…like to be in control.

Hostess: Too big to Fail

2012-11-17T01:46:00.000-08:00

With the news of Hostess closing its doors for good, came the sudden realization that yet another chapter is ending in America’s great story. Customers are left to scramble for the last crumbs of Hostess products from store shelves, making the annual mad dash on Black Friday look like a (Hostess) cake walk. I for one am heartbroken at the news. I wish I had a box of Twinkies to drown my sorrows in, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be. Instead, like so many other Americans, I will be forever left to wonder what could have been.

Hostess, the bakery company that has brought us such timely classics such as Zingers, Suzy Q’s, and Ho-Ho’s, not to mention favorites such as Twinkies, Fruit Pies, Sno Balls, and Ding Dongs, has announced they are no longer financially soluble and are therefore closing their doors for good. News hasn’t rocked the food and beverage world like this since Wilie Wonka announced he would be shutting the doors of his famous candy factory – and even then, that was only in a fictional story. Americans are left to wonder who will be next? If it can happen to Hostess, why not other great American food companies such as Hershey’s or Kraft or Hebrew National? I personally cannot even imagine a world without Kraft imitation cheese slices, which completely revolutionized the hamburger industry.

I have never been a fan of the Wall Street bailouts of the big banks and auto industry, only because I find the concept of “too big to fail” to be a slap in the face of every business that has struggled to keep their financial house in order, not to mention the financial burden it puts on the American People. But the news of Hostess has left me to wonder, if any bakery is too big to fail, certainly it would be Hostess. Hostess Brand is as American as apple pie, baseball, or the groovy hippie movement of the 70’s. Certainly Hostess is a company deserving of the financial backing of Chinese borrowed money from our government. I mean if not Hostess, then who?

I, like so many others, am left to wait and see what will happen. The Sno Ball, Mr. President, is in your court…the only question is what will you do with it?

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

2012-05-13T22:50:00.000-07:00

I’m no politician, but I’ve been known to tell a whopper or two in my life. Especially as a kid. But many times it wasn’t exactly lying that I did, per say, but more like hiding the truth about something that had happened. I can recall one particular Saturday morning when I woke up rather late to an empty house (my family was all gone, which, with a family of eight was very rare) and found a note from my mother stating that I was to shovel my assigned portion of the driveway before I could go out to play with my friends (I lived in Alaska, and in Alaska those are the sort of chores you get). Of course I was outraged at my parents’ demands, as any 13 year old boy would be. How could they expect me to shovel the driveway…on a Saturday of all days? I know what most of you are probably thinking. “Oh the horror. That’s child abuse.” Exactly my sentiments.

I reluctantly and angrily began to shovel the driveway, muttering more than a few choice words under my breath. After almost a whole hour of shoveling (or so it seemed…it was probably more like 20 minutes but who is keeping track of such minor details) I had but a small area of snow left just under our old yellow Subaru, which was parked in front of our garage, so I ran up to my dad’s dresser to retrieve the keys so I could move the car. The yellow Subaru had a manual transmission (for those of you who are too young to have heard of such a thing, it means it had a stick shift and a clutch, which were very tricky to operate, especially for a 13 year-old kid). Still quite peeved at my parents for ruining my perfectly wonderful Saturday morning, I placed the key into the ignition and turned the key while flooring the gas, without first engaging the clutch. You see, cars back then worked differently than they do now. They didn’t have all the latest fancy safety measures and automatic crap that keep folks today from getting whiplash every time they turn the key. It took real skill to drive a car…skill that I certainly didn’t have. So as I stepped on the gas you can probably guess what happened. The car totally lunged forward into the closed garage door – a door that had been freshly painted just the summer before!

You know how people talk about near death experiences, the ones where everything moves in slow motion while their lives flash before their eyes? That’s exactly what happened to me. I actually saw my life flashing before me on the panels of the falling garage door. You see, the laws of physics tell us that a moving object (such as a car), when coming into contact with a stationary object (such as a garage door) will move that stationary object (garage door) if the mass of the moving object (car) is bigger and has enough force behind it (floored accelerator pedal) than the stationary object (garage door). Please don’t ask me exactly what law of physics this is, because at that point I neither knew nor cared to know. I just knew it existed because I was witnessing, first hand, the law in action.
As I sat in the stalled car, which was now conveniently parked halfway into my parents’ garage, (notice how I identified ownership of the garage? This will become important for obvious reasons later) a simple thought crossed my mind. That thought was of course, “I’m dead,” since it was my parents’ garage (see now why I needed to point out the ownership?). Not knowing where the rest of my family had gone or when any of them would be back, I scrambled faster than any 13 year-old boy ever has to fix the garage door. It didn’t matter that the railing and lag bolts had been ripped from the walls or that the individually crafted panels of the garage door laid crumpled like an accordion on the garage floor. I had one task and one task only, and it was to save my own life by repairing the damage before any witnesses (brothers or sisters) could see what had happened and report back to my parents.

I really don’t know how I did it, but to this day I can faintly remember hearing a choir of angels singing and a surge of strength that could only have been sent from above. I can attest that it wasn’t my time to die that day. Somehow with powers beyond my own I was able to lift the garage door back up and reset the lag bolts into the wall. And after patching the half inch gap that now stood between the garage door and wall with one inch weather stripping - not to mention ignoring a rather large dent in the center of the door where the bumper of the car first initiated the contact - the garage door was as good as new. In fact nobody even realized anything had ever happened to it. It wasn’t until 20 years later that I actually had the courage to tell my parents what had happened that fateful Saturday morning. I never technically lied about the garage door, but I certainly didn’t ever tell anyone the truth. In fact, when I finally did muster up the courage to tell my parents about what happened to the garage, it was only because I figured my statute of limitations had expired. How’s that for honesty?

Tantrum Time

2012-05-13T22:35:00.000-07:00

I really hate it when my kids throw a tantrum in a public place. They're smart and know they got me because it's a public place where other people are around and watching. I'm in their territory. The only thing I hate even more then a child throwing a tantrum is when someone approaches you with advice on how to handle the situation. Like I'm doing something wrong. Like the tantrum is somehow my fault. Yea, it's my fault, I didn't give in and give my child the damn candy bar she wanted because I didn't want her to ruin her appetite for dinner and have her mom mad at me. I'm not ruining my chance at some snookie later over a candy bar.

Next time someone approaches me with parental advice about a screaming kid I think I'm going to say, "Look buddy, I might not be able to smack my kid right now but there's nothing stopping me from smacking you across the head right now. So back off." That would actually feel pretty good.

Happy Mothers Day

2012-05-13T22:27:00.000-07:00

When I was in the eighth grade there was this girl I sort of had a crush on, who told me that I had the longest and prettiest eye lashes she'd ever seen. It was during our social studies class and she told me this while the teacher was talking and we both should have been listening (I know we were being naughty).

The word “pretty” is not something you should ever say to a boy at that age, not at least when describing something about them. Needless to say that night I used a tiny pair of scissors I had found in my mother’s makeup kit to cut off my eye lashes...completely…they were gone, nothing but nubs. The next day the girl obviously noticed and asked me if I had cut my eye lashes off. To which I lied and said no. Who was I trying to kid. What I had done was not only obvious but also pretty stupid.

The point is, girls make boys do silly things in life. Which is exactly why I blame everything stupid I do today, on my wife. You see, it's her fault. She is an amazing, accomplished, highly intelligent, and beautiful woman in which who's presence I do stupid things. I'm so in love with her that my mind is unable to focus on much else and I become unfocused and unreasoning moron. I lose my better judgment around her, resulting in a blubbering and bumbling idiot. Happy Mother's Day honey, I love you. And a happy Mother's Day to all the amazing women out there, mothers or not, you make the world a much stupider place (and yes I realize stupider is not a word…blame my wife for me using it.)

Parental Rule #45

2011-04-11T22:59:00.000-07:00

If you see a foreign substance and you’re not quite sure if it was produced by your child’s nose, mouth, or rear end…do not under any circumstances give it the taste test to try to figure out what it might be. Always assume it is something from your child, even if it does look like rich fudge topping. It’s much better to be safe than sorry. Trust me on this one.

The Etiquette of Laughing

2011-04-09T19:50:00.000-07:00

Are you confused about what to do when somebody at the office cracks a joke? Do you laugh or report them to HR? Never fear, Mr. Office Etiquette has come to your rescue with: the etiquette of laughing at jokes in the office.

If the person delivering a joke is your boss, laugh. Laugh long and laugh hard. As a general rule, regardless of what your boss just said, laugh. The exception to this rule is if the last thing out of your boss sounded like, “Urp!” In this situation, laughing out loud is discouraged.

If the person is attractive to you, you should laugh but not as hard as if the person was your boss. Make up for the smaller laugh by ending the laughter with a smile and eye contact. A long smile, mixed with friendly eye contact, says, “Please find me as attractive as I find you.” It never works, it just makes your cheeks hurt and your eyes water but all the dating magazines recommend it.

If the person is a temporary employee, don’t laugh. In fact, pretend you didn’t hear the joke. With temps, you can get away with walking out on them mid-joke. Who cares? What can the person do?

If the person is a consultant, don’t laugh. They are not paid huge sums of money to crack jokes. They are, in fact, paid huge sums of money to do nothing. Make them earn it.

If the person delivering a joke is your friend and the joke is not funny you are obligated to laugh. This shows your support. Imagine you were cheering for that person at a baseball game and the person had just struck out. Laughing at the joke says, “Nice try, you’ll get ‘em next time.” Not laughing at the joke says, “You just lost us the championship game, you idiot. No Christmas card for you, Grinch.”

If somebody just made an off-color, rude, racist, or sexist joke, tell them you are offended and didn’t appreciate that joke. If you really don’t like the person, report them to HR immediately. This will earn you respect. Be sure to remember the joke and crack it with your friends when you’re off the clock – and then feel free to laugh as hard as you want.

If somebody is telling a long joke I can guarantee that they will forget the punch line. You will laugh harder at them for trying to remember the punch line than you will three days later when they finally remember and deliver the ending…at which point you can’t remember the joke anyway. Do not include them on your Christmas card list. This is your revenge for allowing them to waste your time.

No matter how funny your joke is, nobody in the company who ranks above you will laugh. This means, your boss, her boss, etc. The ironic thing is that you will hear them recycle your joke at the next meeting and you will be required to laugh heartily at it. Don’t expect any credit for it…not that you do since you are used to the fact that they get the bonuses because YOU work the unpaid overtime.

The funniest joke at the office ranks a 3.5 out of 10 in normal circumstances. This is because 1) at the office you and your coworkers are generally sober, and 2) most of the office employees (ok, ALL of the office employees) are nerds. Nerds laugh at jokes that rank 3.5 out of 10. Outside the office, you only laugh at jokes that rank 6 out of 10. Think about it.

(Tag line: Mark Palenske has spent a career figuring out when to laugh at jokes in the office, which might explain why he has so often been demoted.)

The Etiquette of Door Holding

2011-04-04T23:58:00.000-07:00

In today’s society, the proper social etiquette surrounding door holding is as misunderstood by men as decent music is by Justin Bieber. Therefore, today’s article is dedicated to door holding etiquette.

A man should always hold the door open for a lady. Because Lady Gaga and the rest of society today has nearly led to the extinction of the “lady species”, men should give the benefit of the doubt and hold the door for anybody with any qualities that might be female.

If somebody holds a door open for you, you are required to perform an awkward half-run or fast-shuffle to get to the door as quickly as possible. This effort on your part is required to express appreciation for the person holding the door for you.

The maximum Door Holding Length is 10 feet. This means that a man should hold the door for any woman within 10 feet. If you hold the door for women more than 10 feet behind you, all sorts of problems arise. For example, the party you were with has long since forgotten you, disappeared into the restaurant and ordered their food while the woman for whom you are holding the door is forced to perform a half-run, arriving to the door in a sweat, in order to express her appreciation to you. The only exception to the Door Holding Length of 10 feet is if the person who is approaching the door is extremely attractive. In this situation, the Door Holding Length can be extended to 1 mile.

Bathroom stall doors should never be held open. This is because the only people you should see in the restroom SHOULD be the same gender as you. If this isn’t the case, one of you is in serious trouble, and neither of you should worry about holding the door as you race out to check and confirm you are indeed in the proper-gender restroom.

Elevator doors should be held open only if 1) eye contact was made with a person outside the elevator, or 2) the person is attractive to you. Shouts of, “Please hold that elevator, it’s an emergency!” can be ignored if neither of the two rules was met. Pretend you find something on the floor intensely interesting and avoid eye contact as the elevator doors slowly close in the person’s face. Etiquette does demand, however, that you wait until the doors close before you smile.

Unfortunately, society has degraded to the point that holding a car door open for a lady is no longer expected. In many situations, it is strongly discouraged, as the woman might assume you have alternative motives for approaching her and might hit you upside the head before spraying your eyes with pepper spray and kicking your shin.

You should ALWAYS hold the door open for any mother, especially your own. She can use the pepper spray on you as she sees fit. She has earned that right.

There are two door holding jokes, neither of which is funny. The first involves two men who simultaneously meet at the door. One will hold the door and with over exaggerated hand motions, wave the other through the door and say, “Age before beauty.” If somebody cracks this joke around you, proper etiquette allows you to spill your drink on their pants while walking past them.

The second joke, while funnier, is considered to be in poor taste in higher society. As you hold the door open for somebody and they walk through, stick out your foot and trip them. This joke has never gotten old.

I hope that these rules can be posted on doors throughout our nation to help men understand their obligation regarding door holding. Plus, it’s easier to trip somebody when they’re reading a sign on the door.

(Tag line: Mark Palenske was only kidding about tripping people…his humor has never progressed beyond the old, “Age before beauty” joke.)

Sketch & Doodle

2011-04-02T21:07:00.000-07:00

(Click on comic strip to enlarge)

Work Place Etiquette

2011-03-28T21:07:00.000-07:00

I’m writing today’s column to help people properly understand everyday work etiquette. For example, on the rare occasion that somebody asks you a question you actually know the answer for, please don’t respond with, “I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you.” That joke was not funny the first time it was used, and unlike wine or memories of high school glory, it has not improved with age. Additionally, let’s face it, we read about workplace murders in the newspaper or online everyday, and when was the last time you read something funny online?

If the only noise coming from your cube is, “click, click, click” everybody knows you are playing Solitaire. (To confuse your co-workers, randomly type something once in a while or pick up the phone and have a conversation with yourself – just don’t ask yourself any difficult questions, you may blow your own cover).

If you pass somebody in the hall for the fourth time in an hour, please don’t ask, “Didn’t I just see you?” followed by a forced chuckle, “ha ha.” Instead, ask for their manager’s name and immediately report that person for not working. If the person is YOUR manager, smile and pretend you knew that already.

When returning from maternity leave, no matter how cute you think your child’s first bath was, showing the pictures to male co-workers named Mark Palenske can cross the line. That goes the same for first diaper changes, spit ups, and basically any photo the child is not cleanly dressed and sleeping. Remember this line, “If they’re dressed all cute and their shirt has no puke, show the photo and I’ll smile…show the child naked, and I’ll run a 4 minute mile.”

One of the worst work place etiquette infractions deals with poor conversation topics. No matter how big a fan you are of (please insert the proper noun): Star Trek, Survivor, your recent kidney stone operation, Paris Hilton, or University of Utah sports, it is safe to assume the rest of the planet cannot stand that topic.

If you are the only person speaking to a room full of slack-faced and drooling people, you are (there is no gentle way to say this) boring. Remember, it is not considered a conversation if you are only person speaking. Or if the topic involves Star Trek. Or if the topic involves naked photo’s of your newborn baby.

Clipping fingernails in the workplace can only be done in one situation: you work at a beauty salon and you are giving a manicure. Otherwise, wait until you are in the privacy of your own home, preferably during dinner when your spouse isn’t looking. Although it is impolite to clip fingernails at the office, etiquette does allow you to chew these same nails, or borrowed pens, to your hearts content.

If you notice somebody leaving a bathroom stall and exiting the restroom without first washing his or her hands, duty demands that you immediately go gossip with the entire office about it, to warn everybody of the disgusting situation. Of course, washing YOUR hands isn’t necessary since sending out this important information requires all diligence.

If people laugh at whatever you say, you are either: 1) very, very funny, 2) very, very attractive to the opposite sex, or 3) very, very important. Regardless of which, I hate you. If people never laugh at things you say you are either: 1) not very, very…nevermind.

No matter how quietly you think you are talking to your girlfriends, when sharing juicy details of last-night’s make-out session with your boyfriend, the entire male office is listening. Work place etiquette requires that you either turn up your volume so they don’t strain their necks while eavesdropping, or save it for the comfy couch in the girls’ restroom.

On the topic of comfy couches in the girls room: if you are female, please never brag to your male co-workers that you just took a thirty minute nap on the couch in the girls room. Men, who are unaccustomed to any modern conveniences in a bathroom, feel fortunate if we are able to dry our hands on a paper towel instead of our shirt before leaving. Also, we find it disgusting to imagine resting anywhere near (let alone in) a restroom.

If you find it necessary to crack a joke in an email, do not follow it with ‘haha.’ It makes you sound desperate, as though nobody other than yourself would ever find you funny. Instead, follow it with the threat, “If you don’t laugh at my joke, I’ll fire you.” Believe me, that will get the readers attention far better than a stupid joke. Unless the recipient can fire you. Haha.

This concludes today’s column. Please feel free to make a copy of this article, circle a particular paragraph for emphasis, and leave it anonymously on an annoying co-workers desk. (Of course, if I find this article on my desk, I will fire the person responsible. Haha).

Tag line: Mark Palenske wants to let everybody know that, although his column suggests otherwise, he does not have the authority to fire anybody.

Sweet Poetry

2011-03-26T00:22:00.000-07:00

They say poetry is for intellectuals. Well I’m not an intellectual but I sure as heck would like people to think I am. So with that in mind I’ve decided to explore the deeper side of life by writing some poetry (of course on the humorous side). I hope you find my stuff thought provoking. This is a poem I wrote called Crazy Heart and boy is it deep. It'll make you think, that's for sure. Please feel free to share your thoughts and feelings in the comment section below.

I’m sad. I’m crying.
Yet no tears come to my eyes.
Then I realize that I’m smiling
It’s difficult to cry while smiling.
No wonder no tears are forming, no tears are falling.
My eyes are scrunched, squeezing, trying to cry
but my mouth is simply smiling.
My mouth is overpowering my eyes.
My eyes have lost this battle.

With my eyes all squished and wrinkly
And my mouth all wide and smiling
I realize how crazy I must look.
But I’m not crazy.
Far from it.
So don’t you dare call me crazy,
Unless you mean “like a fox.”
I’m not crazy. Fool.
You are.
Quit being so judgmental.
My face may appear crazy on the outside
But you…you, are crazy on the inside
And that’s the worst kind of crazy.

If we were Indian, which I can say because it’s a poem
Otherwise I would have to say Native American.
But if we were Indian
I would be called Crazy Face but you,
You would be called Crazy Heart.
So don’t judge me, just love.
And let me cry in peace.

Dating Pointers For Men

2011-03-23T23:39:00.000-07:00

I recently read an article about Scott Peterson. You may remember him from several years ago….he was the man convicted of murdering his wife and unborn child while having an affair. Scott has received multiple marriage proposals from women across the nation. I don't understand why an adulterer sitting on death row is considered a good catch. Still, I can't help but feel bad for the clueless bachelors who are competing with the hardened inmates of the prison system…and losing. Let’s face it, prisoners have the advantage of working out all day and keeping in great shape. Plus, a woman will ALWAYS know where her prisoner is.

Therefore, I intend to help even the odds for out-of-shape, out-of-prison bachelors everywhere. Because I am married, and haven’t dated for many years, I am in a unique situation to give advice to unmarried men about how to become more attractive to the opposite sex. One might assume I am qualified because I used these same techniques and they successfully worked for me, but those people would be wrong. Instead, I tricked my wife into believing I was a death-row inmate who was convicted of murder, but that story is for another day.

Guys, some tried and true methods for impressing women include cleaning your apartment. By cleaning, I don't mean kicking filthy laundry underneath the bed to rot. Women, for some strange reason, like the idea of dating a man who can keep a clean, rodent-free apartment. Therefore, I recommend hiring a maid service since no man in the history of the world has managed a clean apartment. If you cannot afford a cleaning service, one will be provided for you. That’s right, I recommend moving back home. While women don’t normally get too excited about dating a 30-something man who lives with his parents, they do seem to prefer it to stepping on rats late at night.

Women love flowers. Flowers are to women what fire hydrants are to dogs: something bright that they like to sniff. Recommended flowers include roses, daisies, and those pretty yellow things. Never, ever try and impress a woman by showing her the collection of mushrooms growing from the rotten clothes beneath your bed. Mushrooms are not flowers, and trust me, in this situation your gardening skills will be wasted on her.

This next method should go without saying, but because this article is for men, I will say it. Don't flirt with other women while on a date. Many single men, and far too many married ones, fail to grasp this concept. An example will help to illustrate the problem. At dinner while being served by a cute waitress, do you chat her up and ignore your date who sits across the table and glares into her drink? If you answered “yes” I had better explain it in a simple-to-understand analogy: when you watch a football game, do you cheer for both sides? Of course not! Pick a team and go with them all the way. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Another option to impress the fairer sex is to take it slow before making the first move. Generally, busting a move the first date sends a signal of, "I watch too much tv and believe everybody makes out on their first date." While this works for the men on television, you have two things going against you: 1) the story on tv is scripted by idiots (mainly unmarried men) and not even close to reality, and 2) you aren’t nearly as attractive as the men on television. Instead, impress a lady by talking with her intelligently about something other than tv, sports, or how cute the waitress who served your dinner happened to be. If you have never tried an intelligent conversation before, which may be very likely, take it slow. Practice with yourself in front of the mirror and eventually you will be very surprised by the results. Only then are you ready to try it on a date, but please, leave the mirror at home.

Favorite, wrinkled shirts are great for wearing around home where nobody will ever see (or smell) you, but are forbidden on a date. Think about it, gentleman, Scott Peterson didn't get any marriage proposals until AFTER he changed into a freshly laundered jail suit. Try dressing up yourself. Stripes are in this season.

Under no circumstance should you ever tell a woman what you are really thinking. Doing so might cause her an upset stomach or possibly, depending on how much you actually tell her, heart-failure. Instead, lie. Lie through your teeth. In the rare case that you are actually thinking about your date, and not 1) the waitress, or 2) your favorite sports team, tell her you are thinking about her eyes. In a situation like this, as with boxing, you want to focus your efforts on your opponents face…the rest of your date’s anatomy is off-limits for discussion. Off-limits, gentlemen. Don’t mention anything but the eyes.

If single men are unable to follow these rules, I’m afraid that the nation’s jail cells will fill up with men hoping to get married. Men, there is hope! Once you’re married, these rules no longer apply.

Tag Line: Mark Palenske has never done jail time although once, in third grade, he did some serious “time out” time for a crime he swears he didn’t commit. It was his brother. The case is still under appeal.

Career Ambitions

2011-03-22T00:21:00.000-07:00

**In order to appease the voracious appetites of my faithful fan base, I'd like to introduce you to my older brother, Mark. He may not be quite as funny and WARNING: he may not use quite as much toilet humor, but he's getting there. We have always talked about writing together, so we decided to finally make it happen. Here's one he wrote, and aside from the unfortunate dearth of potty talk, you can always recognize his work by his tag line. Enjoy!**

If you are anything like me, and I know I am, then you knew just what you wanted to be when you were younger. And for me that was a dictator of a third world nation. Call me strange, go ahead – you wouldn’t be the first, my shrink was – but the job of a dictator had a lot of fringe benefits that appealed to me in my youth. The lawlessness they lived by, the national holidays in their honor, the money, fame, and opportunity to see their portraits painted on every street corner made me want to jump in and lead a coup somewhere.

Then came the collapse of Saddam, the Taliban, and most of Northern Africa and I began to have second thoughts about my career aspirations. I decided I needed a profession with equal rewards but less risk. I ruled out the NBA mainly because I hate the shoes they wear and would feel awful endorsing a product I didn’t believe in, in return for only tens of millions of dollars a year. That fake lifestyle just isn’t for me…better to spend my life slaving away at a company I don’t enjoy that sells products I prefer not to purchase.

Therefore, I naturally shifted my career aspirations to becoming CEO of a fortune 500 company. They have a great retirement program. Cook a few books, scam millions of investors from their hard-earned retirement, fire my employees and replace them with slave labor overseas, con the government out of billions in owed taxes, and then get slapped with a short sentence to a five-star resort called ‘Federal Prison’ until I could live out my life as celebrity-billionaire and date girls my grand-daughters age. (You should have seen the face of my career counselor in college when I explained this career path to her—until I explained it to her, I don’t think she realized it even existed).

Unfortunately, my wife’s response was even less positive than my career counselor’s had been.

I have therefore finally settled on the next best thing: becoming an online blogger with my younger brother, Jared. The fame, money, and national holidays in my honor don’t quite measure up, but there’s something to be said about working from home in my pajamas while listening to music. Even Saddam never had it this good. Unless, of course, he ever made it to Federal Prison.

Once I settled my mind on the blogger career path, I realized that there is a lot I can do in this humble job. For example, I can make fun of other people in the name of ‘freedom of speech.’ And if they somehow track me down in my home and retaliate by punching me in the nose, I can sue. God bless this nation.

So, after great deliberation about the topic for this first column, and after consulting my lawyer regarding lawsuits, I have narrowed my choices. I have selected the most annoying, loathsome, insincere rodent known to mankind. No, I’m not talking about myself. This topic is aimed at the morning radio talk show person.

Talk about annoying, no pun intended. These disk jockeys are always announcing a song they’ll play right after another commercial break. Their humor (which I can safely say is far worse than my own) hasn’t been considered funny since the third grade…and even back then it was only ever considered funny by the weird kid who couldn’t sit still and always smelled badly. It has become so bad, I no longer listen to the radio….instead, I call random tele-marketers and start up conversations. I need help on many levels.

Therefore, I’m calling on concerned citizens of this great nation to do whatever must be done to save music on morning radio shows. Even if you didn’t vote in the last election, can’t spell your own name, or aren’t sure if you have a pulse, we could use your support. That’s right, I’m encouraging a grass-roots, radical wing to emerge and sue the pants off of any radio station that refuses to play music. If we can add frogs, owls, flowers, and O.J. Simpson to the endangered species list – saving them from certain extinction – surely we can get federal protection to keep songs on the radio.

To drum up support for this measure, I will focus on the positive: eliminating morning radio talk shows would reduce traffic accidents on our freeways. Instead of fumbling around in a dark cab of a truck, frustrated at the lack of music, while balancing a half-eaten apple and the steering wheel in one hand, and a pop tart and radio dial in the other, we will be able to keep our eyes where they belong…reading the bumper sticker on the car ahead of us.

If you know any morning radio show personalities, do the world a favor and give them this article. (And judging by the stupidity that passes as conversation on their shows, you might have to read the column to them, or at least help them with the larger words).

Please stress this part when you read it to them: “SHUT UP AND PLAY MUSIC! IF WE’RE DRIVING AT 6:30 IN THE MORNING, CHANCES ARE WE ARE TRAVELING TO JOBS AND DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU GIVING THE FIRST CALLER A FREE CD! WE CAN AFFORD TO BUY OUR OWN. HERE’S A SUGGESTION: INSTEAD OF GIVING THE CD AWAY, WHY DON’T YOU PLAY IT SO WE DON’T HAVE TO LISTEN TO YOU!”

You can read in your quieter voice now. Whew. I might not be a dictator, but I have a feeling that 2011 is going to be better already. Now, we just have to do something about pulling down their stupid billboards promoting their silly morning shows. Then we’ll all be free to focus our efforts on world peace and on toppling more dictators.

Tag line: Mark Palenske is Jared’s older, less funny brother.

The Best Method for Picking a Winning March Madness Bracket

2011-03-14T00:01:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not, it’s that time of year again. And no I am not talking about daylight savings time or Easter or even spring (although I do love spring). What I’m talking about is the NCAA Basketball Championship, also known affectionately as March Madness or the Big Dance. I think most of you might know what I’m talking about… that crazy time of year when filling out brackets and discussing obscure basketball teams while gathered around the water cooler during breaks at the office is as common as TMZ exposing Charlie Sheen’s latest crazy shenanigans (I mean seriously, what’s up with that guy?); the time of year where everyone is pretending to work but in reality is tuning into the games via the computer, smart phones, or television sets; you know, that time of year where going to work is actually enjoyable because very little work is actually being done.

Gone are the phrases, “Have you seen the price of gas lately?” “Can you believe what’s happening in the Middle East?” or “I just got my Justin Bieber concert tickets and can’t wait to go,” which are typical topics of discussion amongst friends, family, and fellow workers. At this time of year those phrases are replaced by things like, “Did you fill out your bracket yet?” “You picked who to go to the Final Four?” “Well there goes my bracket…it’s completely busted,” and “I knew I should have picked that team.” Nothing seems to be able to bring people together like March Madness, where it is the individual against the masses in bracket pools across the country in hopes of predicting the eventual winners, all in the spirit of friendly competition… and of course a little cash to sweeten the deal. Whether you are a sports fan or art fan, Jew or Muslim, Republican or Democrat, nothing can bring two sides together like the bracketology of March Madness.

The greatest thing about March Madness is that you don’t have to be an expert or even a fan of college basketball for that matter to be able to do well in a madness bracket. In fact, often times knowing less is better when it comes to filling out the coveted brackets. It’s one of the few things in this world where the less work you put into it, the more you will get back, which (INTERESTING FACT ALERT) is why democrats as a whole usually do much better than republicans on their brackets. I’ve seen people who didn’t watch a game all season long win their pools because they didn’t spend as much time contemplating the intricacies of each individual matchup like some of the scholars of the game would. As they say (and by they, I mean the so called experts who usually do poorly in the end), when it comes to March Madness, expect the unexpected.

It is for this reason that I am offering my services today: the 3 best ways for filling out a bracket and ensuring that you finish in the top 25% or better in your bracket pool. These are tried and tested methods that have been proven over the course of years of intensive studies. So without any further adieu, here are the methods for filling out a winning bracket.

The first method is to choose your bracket according to team uniforms. I know it sounds funny but try it and I think you’ll end up pleasantly surprised. Look at the matchups and decide which uniform you like best of the two teams and pick them to advance. Or you could do the opposite and decide which uniform you dislike the most and choose that one to advance. Either way be consistent (either advance the ones you like or the ones you dislike, but don’t mix it up) throughout the bracket and you’ll be amazed at the results. (Hint: I like to consider shoes as part of the uniform. The reason for this is because I once picked a bracket using the uniform method but didn’t consider the shoes as part of the equation and finished seventh in my pool of 30 people. But I learned my lesson and the very next year, after taking shoe style into major consideration, I jumped to second place in my pool of 40. The shoes made a huge difference. You’ll be surprised at how often you may really like a uniform but hate the shoes, or love the shoes but hate the uniform. Going with just the uniforms is really basing your pick on just half of the information.)

The second method is very similar to the first but involves team mascots. Don’t look at it as Team A versus Team B. instead look at it, for example, as the Wolverines versus the Buckeyes. Decide for yourself who you think would legitimately win if they were thrown into a ring with each other, and advance that particular team. Some of you who are looking at my example might be saying “well that’s easy then, the Wolverines would beat the Buckeyes every time,” but if you do a little digging you will find that a Buckeye is in fact a poisonous seed. So sure, maybe a seed seems harmless sitting in a ring with a wolverine, but what would happen if the wolverine happened to eat that seed? I’ll tell you what, it would probably kill it. And not just kill it but sprout in the wolverine’s dead carcass to become a large healthy buckeye tree whose roots disintegrate and obliterate any sign of life that once inhabited that poor animal. So yeah, don’t just assume the wolverine would win every time. Do your homework and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at your accuracy.

Finally, the third and probably most accurate method for picking teams in the bracket is the coin toss. That’s right, the good old fashioned tossing of the coin and assigning each team either the head or tail. (side note: this also works quite well when taking tests.) Let the coin gods decide your bracket fate. This method is as good as using a Ouija board but a lot less scary and you don’t have to sign your soul over to the devil to do it.

So there you have it folks. A surefire way, or should I say three sure fire ways, to pick a winning bracket. Don’t thank me now…go out and try it, and then after you’ve been wildly successful in your own March Madness pool, come back to thank me by posting on my blog. Seriously though, best of luck to you budding March Madness bracketologists out there. See you in the Final Four.

The Royal Flush

2011-03-09T17:42:00.000-08:00

“No…no…no, this can’t be happening,” you think to yourself, “Please, no. Why me? Why now?” You flush the toilet for the second time but to no avail the water rises to just below the rim before slowly seeping back down. What do you do? You don’t dare risk flushing it for a third time because if your friends, who are gathered in the room near the bathroom, hear it will be obvious. The worst part about it is that it’s not even at your own house. You have to do something because you have already been in the bathroom way too long and your friends are going to start to wonder what’s happened. In a frantic panic you scramble around the tiny guest bathroom in search of the only thing that can possibly save you, a plunger, but to no avail. You’re stuck, or more correctly, it’s stuck – as in the doogie you just let go in your friend’s bathroom – and even a royal flush isn’t going to help you out of this situation.

As if clogging a toilet isn’t ever bad enough, doing it while in your friend’s bathroom during a party is even worse. What are you supposed to do in that kind of situation? If you walk out and pretend nothing happened you risk allowing someone else to go in there and do their business, risking the inevitable and highly feared double stacked doogie backup. And that’s not cool to do to anyone. I don’t even care if it was your worst enemy…still not cool. Not to mention how hard it is on the plumbing. I hate to admit that I once was a part of a triple stacked doogie backup and needless to say it wasn’t pretty. I’m not sure if my friend’s toilet ever did recover.

Here’s the deal, this is a problem that can easily be avoided in one of three ways. First, don’t ever take a dump in a friend’s bathroom, no matter how badly it hurts or how knotted up your guts may be. Although this is by far the most effective method for preventing a clogged toilet at a friend’s house, I understand that it may not be the most practical. The second suggestion is that we could all stand to use a little more fiber in our diets. I’m not going to get all preachy about this, but it wouldn’t kill us to eat a vegetable every now and then. I’m just saying. And finally the third method, one which would take a collective effort on all of our parts, is to make sure that every bathroom in the house has a plunger near the toilet. If this can’t be done, the least you could do is post some sort of signage stating the potential risk of pooping in that bathroom.

I think putting a plunger in each bathroom should be considered common courtesy when hosting friends over at ones house, otherwise you run a risk - as the host - of getting a double stacked doogie backup in your own toilet because nobody in their right mind is going to come out of a bathroom and ask you for a plunger in front of the rest of the group. Nor should they have to. It is your job as the host to provide it, in my most humble opinion on such a delicate topic as this.

I mean seriously, how hard is it to place a plunger in every bathroom of the house. I would understand the sparseness if it was a really expensive item - but it’s not. Even in today’s economy. Ten dollars or less will buy you a plunger, twenty dollars for your top of the line model, which still is not that much when considering a) the amount of embarrassment, and b) the cost in plumber’s fees you would be saving from having your friends go through the above scenario.

This goes well beyond just common sense and courtesy. This is a social issue that needs to be addressed. I’m not big on big government, but I think this might be something important enough to consider having a little government assistance in. Perhaps the government could provide some sort of buy back incentive program for stocking every bathroom in the house with a plunger. Maybe they could pay for half of the cost by sending you a rebate check upon them receiving proof of your receipt. I mean really, wouldn’t we just be making America a much better and much less embarrassing place? Can we really put a price on that? A collective effort on all of our parts could lead to a complete eradication of the feared clogged toilet or even worse, the double stacked doogie backup. Just as vaccinations have done for smallpox and measles worldwide. Make a stand people, and let’s say no to clogged toilets and embarrassing moments in social situations by providing every bathroom in America with a plunger. Now who’s with me?

Parental Rule #92

2011-03-09T01:01:00.000-08:00

When attempting to clean the house it may be best to wait until after the kids have been put to bed if your hope is to keep the house clean for more than an hour. You might also want to consider this same time of night to invite guests over so that they can enjoy your clean house as well. Trying to clean a house during the day while the kids are awake is enough to drive anyone, no matter how strong you may be, crazy. If you find yourself laughing at this thought you either a) don't have any children, or b) have actually attempted to clean your home with conscious children and are therefore, by definition, crazy.

Sketch & Doodle

2011-03-05T11:16:00.000-08:00

(Click on comic strip to enlarge)