Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Monday, June 25, 2012

Marvelous Thrift Store Finds and Leg Amputation.



On Saturday, I visited Goodwill.  I told myself I was only going in to look.  Just for a second.  (That's all it takes, isn't it?) I don't need a cart.  If I get a cart, that'll make me put stuff in it and then I'll buy that stuff and then we'll have too much stuff again and need to get rid of that stuff.  The circle is vicious.
Nope, I'm just going to look.

Riiiiiiight.

Now, I have to tell you that I've planned to buy new stools for my kitchen for a while now and hadn't yet found a set I absolutely had to have...until Saturday.  Because Saturday I found these.

Ignore the peeling vinyl, I'm going to re-cover them.
The best part?
$3.38!  Each!!

At that price, you'd better believe I trotted up to the front of the store, grabbed myself a cart and shoved those suckers in it faster than a ...faster than...faster than something already fast performing a difficult task IMPRESSIVELY fast.
Those stools were MINE.  I staked my claim. After giving me a bit of trouble, I finally convinced the bar stools that they needed to come home with me and they fit into the cart obligingly.   This is important.  If you put something in your cart, that's like writing your name all over your school supplies or licking the last piece of pizza.  It says "Mine".  And no one else will get their grabby Saturday-thrift store mitts on them.  Unless they want to tangle.  *threatening face*



I was pretty stoked about this stool purchase.  Until.  Until I found something even better!  An air hockey table for only forty bucks!  FORTY!  I whipped out my cell phone and sent Sugar Daddy a text telling him of our incredible good fortune.

"Rejoice!  I have found the air hockey table of our dreams!"

I imagined our days filled with the soft hum of the table and the clickiety-clackity-smack of the puck as we battle for a tiny plastic replica of the Stanley Cup.  

"Basement or garage, which do you think it'll fit in?"

He sent back, "Um...no."

WHAT?!   Are you kidding me?  This is the end-all-be-all of family entertainment devices!  We NEED THIS.

"Aw, why not?  It's only $40.  C'mon, man.  I WANT IT!"

As Miss Madison will recognize, he sent back the same message we send to our oldest daughter when she tries to push the envelope: "The answer is no.  This will be the last text about this.  Further texts will result in consequences."

Now, it's true that we really don't have much room for an air hockey table anyway, and his idle threat had me giggling in the middle of the store, but I couldn't very well respond to Sugar Daddy with anything supporting his logic, so I instead sent:

"*pfft*  Dude. That's whack."

Whatever.

I got the stools.


And these are GREAT bar stools! 

Sadly, once I got them home I remembered that there is a difference between "bar stool" and "counter stool".  That difference is about 4 inches.  My counter is simply too short for their awesomeness. 

But wait!  I have a dad.  My dad has major power tools.  I'm very hopeful that the combination of my dad and the major power tools will be just the ticket to taking them down a notch...or four. 




             ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Edited to add:  I sent my father a text asking if he'd be willing to cut four inches off 8 legs...belonging to no one he knew, and if so, when would be a good time. 
"Now."  He sent back.

Seriously?  Sweet!

I hurried over to my folks' house where we performed partial amputations on the bar stools with a table saw...and laughed while we did it with sickening glee.   Hobbled, they now look like this:


And they fit perfectly under the counter. 


I took the severed legs home with me.  If the stools give me any more grief I can always flaunt them with a menacing look that says, "There's more where this came from."
 



Now that I think of it, I might use them in my next giveaway.

  


If this made you laugh, will you share it with a friend?






Monday, June 18, 2012

Hey, you like free stuff? I'm hosting a giveaway!!



Do you know what I do when I'm not wordsmithing, killing plants, taking a thousand silly pictures of my dinner, being accosted by mall personnel or peeking into my neighbor's windows?  

I make jewelry.   

I bet you didn't know I was so talented, did you?

Because this giveaway thing is supposed to be really super easy to do, I'm jumping in with both feet and donating two of my newest creations.   Some lucky person will be the winner of a bracelet and earring set from Random Ninja Designs. 



Ooh, shiny!








Awesome, right?  I mean, is there anyone who doesn't like free sparkly stuff?  I am a freebie whore, people.  If it's free, I want it!  I become positively giddy when I see a package waiting for me on the porch and will knock down any small person in my path to get to it.  


But enough about my deplorable behavior, there's stuff to be won.




Go enter mah giveaway, peoples!  
 

Ooh, look!  A Rafflecopter thing!  That sure makes things easier, doesn't it?   Good luck!


(It's come to my attention that the Rafflecopter is not letting many of you comment for whatever reason.   That's okay. It still registers your entry for the giveaway.  Comment when you can.  I won't be upset, I promise.  Besides, you can always make it up to me by subscribing via email. It's over there on the left.  Go there now. Shoo. Skedaddle.)




a Rafflecopter giveaway



The Rafflecopter has spoken!  Jennifer Serafini Myers is our winner!

Please keep reading RandomNinja.  I'm definitely going to be doing this again.  So much fun!!

Thanks all for the terrific response!



















Saturday, May 19, 2012

Getting to Know...Well, YOU! Happy National Masturbation Month!

Did you know that we're over halfway through National Masturbation Month?

Well, we are.  It's true.  And it's already the 19th. I bet you've got some catching up to do.

Don't believe it?  Read this article and report back to me.  Go on, I'll wait.  I'll even link it again to show you the part I want you lazy wankers to notice.

Are you back?  You didn't read it, did you?  But you should!  It's interesting stuff!  I mean, who knew that masturbation was GOOD for you?  Both men and women reap health benefits from diddling their bits and baubles.  It improves your circulation and releases tension and, hey, you can't get pregnant from it.  Awesome, right?

This month-long celebration has generated some strange contests among the more enthusiastic supporters.  Check out these "current" (2009-10) records:

  • The winner of "Longest Time Spent Masturbating/Male" (and also the World Record Holder in this category) is Mr. Masanobu Sato, who in 2008 masturbated for 9 hours and 33 minutes. In 2009 he extended his record to 9 hours and 58 minutes.  Please note that time records indicate duration (length of time for which a participant masturbated).  Damn.
  • The winner of "Longest Time Spent Masturbating/Female" was set in 2008 by Ms. Kitty Kat, who masturbated for 7 hours and 6 minutes.
  • The winner of "Most Orgasms/Male" was set by Big Rob in 2010—at 83 climaxes, a world record.
  • The winner of "Most Orgasms/Female" is Loooo-C, who orgasmed 83 times in 2010.
Makes you tired just reading about it, doesn't it?

Now some of these names don't look real to me, so I can't attest to the validity of the records.  However, if anyone wants to take their best shot at beating these people at their own game, feel free to take matters into your own hands. Judging by those records, you might want to notify your employers before you begin.



Yes, YES, YES.  May is National Masturbation Month.






What are you going to do about it?





Friday, May 18, 2012

Disturbing Adventures in Slumbertown or "Why I killed Alex P. Keaton"


Last night I was under attack.  Zombies came after me in my sleep!

It seems that I was back in my high school days and there was an assembly in the auditorium, which we all know is probably one of the worst places to be in the event of a zombie attack. Everyone knows that when the zombie uprising occurs, you will want to avoid large social gathering places to increase your chances of survival.  True, I wasn’t trapped in the mall, but this did not bode well.

When I became aware of the looming presence of the brain-eating living dead, I realized I needed a weapon, but where to find such a one that could handle this onslaught?  The Props Closet!   I knew there would be an array of swords and sharp, pointy things left over from a recent production of Camelot, sitting ripe for the picking.  Only a Master Thespian, such as I would have remembered they had perfect zombie protection at their disposal.

I pushed aside a canvas flat and found the box I sought.  I chose my weapon quickly, but carefully, remembering that when it comes to zombies, a machete is very handy, and ended up grabbing what I felt was the closest thing.

Holed up in the props closet, armed with Big Ol’ Dream Knife, I braced myself, channeled my Inner Buffy, opened the door and in my strongest zombie-slaying voice shouted,

Bring it on!!”

Onward they came, these dream zombies made of random bits of my subconscious:
My best friend? *slash* Gone.  
The family dog? *slice* Dead.  
Alex P. Keaton (where the hell did he come from)? *swoosh* Severed.
Some guy with a head wound who may or may not have actually been zombified?  Sorry, dude. I can’t risk it. *zing* Dead.

I’ve got to give props to my weapon of choice.  Big Ol’ Dream Knife required very little upper arm strength from this particular heroine to prove effective against hordes of zombies (I’m not the strongest slayer on the block, you know).  It was amazing, slicing those nasty zombie heads clean off, like…well, like a light saber (to borrow from George’s dream).  Who wouldn’t love a knife like that?  Got a chicken you need quartered?  *slappity choppity*  Done!  Cleaning fish?  *bam* Off with their heads! 

Sadly, I learned that Big Ol’ Dream Knife had one fatal flaw.  It was selective.  Sure, it was able to cut through flesh and bone (ew ew ew ew! *shudder*) but it had noticeable trouble with fabric.  I was able to holster it in my belt loop and it didn’t cut one thread. 
The approaching turtleneck-clad zombies would be my undoing…

Aw, crap.

Some Other Stuff I Wrote