By Michael Edward Mitchell
Age 53
Hercules and Isosceles
Were going to the Ball.
Said Hercules to Isosceles:
"You're the tallest one of all."
Said Isosceles to Hercules:
"By Jove! I think you're right!"
Then Hercules and Isosceles
Strolled off into the night.
Eddie-tor's Note: I couldn't sleep the other night, and this was the result. It was inspired by something one of my former Adult Ed students said one night when we were studying triangles.
Showing posts with label dubious humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dubious humor. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
Friday, June 23, 2017
Sunday, May 28, 2017
Tell me honestly....
Would you buy used furniture
From this man?
Well, would you?
I'm not convinced myself, but dozens of other people have, surprisingly. C'est la vie!
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
Where Have We Been?
Well, the truth is I had to step back for a bit.
2016 was not the best year for me, you know.
First off, there was the break ups. The whole deal with Calvin Harris was the talk of the town for way too long. And then there was the Tom Hiddleston thing. Honestly. It's like some people have nothing better to do than analyze my every move and love interest. And now, everyone is all expecting songs about them!
And then there are the feuds. The Katy Perry thing continues to drag on. What a bore. Then that whole thing with Kim and Kanye happened. I mean, really. That girl in the video didn't even look like me. As if!
So, I decided that the best thing for me to do was take a break from everything, including social media and just concentrate on me for a while.
Besides, I had an album to work on. Those songs about Calvin and Tom ain't gonna write themselves, you know.
Wait a sec.
Album? Kanye? Calvin?
Oh darn. I've gone and mixed myself up with Taylor Swift again.
I hate it when that happens.
Seriously, I'm okay. I didn't mean to make anyone worry. You're all just too kind and too sweet. I'll have more to say in a bit.
2016 was not the best year for me, you know.
First off, there was the break ups. The whole deal with Calvin Harris was the talk of the town for way too long. And then there was the Tom Hiddleston thing. Honestly. It's like some people have nothing better to do than analyze my every move and love interest. And now, everyone is all expecting songs about them!
And then there are the feuds. The Katy Perry thing continues to drag on. What a bore. Then that whole thing with Kim and Kanye happened. I mean, really. That girl in the video didn't even look like me. As if!
So, I decided that the best thing for me to do was take a break from everything, including social media and just concentrate on me for a while.
Besides, I had an album to work on. Those songs about Calvin and Tom ain't gonna write themselves, you know.
Wait a sec.
Album? Kanye? Calvin?
Oh darn. I've gone and mixed myself up with Taylor Swift again.
I hate it when that happens.
Seriously, I'm okay. I didn't mean to make anyone worry. You're all just too kind and too sweet. I'll have more to say in a bit.
Friday, February 03, 2017
The Most Unusual Man in the World Says:
"I don't always take selfies,
but when I do, I drape myself in gold beaded garland."
Stay strange, my friends.
Thursday, February 02, 2017
The Ugly Truth
Truly,
I am such a little ray of happy sunshine in the morning!
Despite all appearances to the contrary here, I assure you that I am neither drunk nor high in this pic. Nor hungover.
Wednesday, February 01, 2017
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
Or the blog.
Or whatever.
So I've been a little off-schedule of late. Maybe you didn't really notice. Who am I kidding? Of course, you noticed. Still, it wasn't as bad as this time last year. I've just gotten beat out of sorts by life, the booth, and the big picture. Especially the big picture.
I was really intending to get back on track this week, with an on time Monday Rambles post and everything. I thought it was all going to work out. And then insomnia struck.
It happens to me from time to time. Sometimes, I just can't sleep. Just. Can't. Sleep. Usually, I wake up in the middle of the night and can't get back to sleep, so I end up messing around on the computer for a couple of hours (if I'm lucky) or the rest of the night. The general rule for me is that if it hits between midnight and two, I still have a shot of getting a couple hour's worth of sleep. If it's after three, I'm probably up for good.
Sunday night, I never got to sleep at all. I was up all night long.
I answered math problems on the computer. I took a Spanish grammar test online. I wrote emails. I took a quiz and learned that, if I were a cupcake, I'd be strawberry with buttercream icing and rainbow sprinkles. Then I took another quiz and learned that in a past life I was Eleanor of Aquitaine. (Which really explains a lot, now that I think about it.) I did some genealogy work, filling in some gaps on my father's side of the family.
In fact, I did everything but actually work on a blog post, for reasons that I certainly don't understand and cannot articulate.(I think it might have something to do with not wanting to mess up my sprinkles. Or maybe it was the regal sounding voice in my head that kept saying, "Eleanor of Aquitaine does not type. She dictates.")
Anyway, my plan for Monday was to get out early, go to the booth, work for a few hours, head back to Louisville, and then meet Keith at an immigration rally. However, at the time that I really should have been hopping in the shower, it finally hits me---I'm now tired. Really tired. And sleepy.
I probably should have powered on through it, but I'm not as young as I used to be and I haven't pulled an all-nighter in decades. I was afraid of falling asleep on the bus and waking up in a corn field in Southern Indiana. Eleanor told me that simply would not do.
So I calculated out how long I could lay down and still catch a late morning bus and get a little work in before having to head back. And then I set an alarm and laid down, with Chiquito, and the cupcake and Eleanor.
Being a middle-aged man with a middle-aged man bladder, I had to get up and pee well before the alarm went off. As I walked through the kitchen to the bathroom, I heard this really faint, really quick beeping sound.
beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
It's the alarm panel from our old house alarm. We had to give up the alarm service when we gave up the landline phone a few years ago. The pad is still there, but the battery is supposed to be dead and it's inactive.
For the past few weeks, though, it's been doing this beep thing at odd times. There have been at least three such incidents. We have no idea what's causing them, but if someone punches the "off" button, it stops.
I don't have my glasses on, so I lean in really close and punch what I think is the "off" button.
And all HELL breaks loose.
The actual alarm--the house alarm which has been inactive for a long time--goes off. The house alarm. The one that's loud enough for the neighborhood to hear.
WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!
It was like that only way, way louder than you could ever imagine it.
Chiquito starts freaking out. Sprinkles start flying off the cupcake. Eleanor becomes immediately as nonplussed as only a medieval English queen with a scheming husband and brood of vipers for children can. And I still have to pee.
And now it gets interesting.
The alarm itself--the part that's making this ungodly racket---is in the corner of the junk room. The far corner. And the junk room is, as junk rooms, are prone to be, full of junk. Literally full. It's where the booth stuff that isn't in the shed or in storage ends up.
I have been working diligently in recent days at cleaning and clearing it out. I take a bunch of stuff over to the booth several times a week. I have thrown a few bags of trash out and gotten some of the rest organized, but it is by no means done. The infernal, blaring thing is by not the least bit accessible without spending a half day that I obviously don't have moving shit around.
So I, still with no glasses, try punching the old codes into the keypad. The main code won't work. The back-up code we gave my mother doesn't work. The code for the old cat-sitter doesn't work. Punching it doesn't work. Trying to pull it off the wall doesn't work. It won't budge.
I cannot see well enough to find a hammer.
Now, I'm starting to get worried that the neighbors are calling the police. Who will come to the house. And see my junk room. And me. With no glasses. In my undies.
Eleanor tells me that it is beneath her royal personage to cooperate with the local constabulary. Chiquito is nowhere to be found. The cupcake is curled up in the corner crying and getting those damn sprinkles everywhere.
I have no choice. I have to brave the junk room.
I decide that maybe I can climb over all the boxes and tubs and get to the screaming thing from hell. bear in mind that I still don't have my glasses on. I'm in my underwear. And I still have to pee.
I set foot on the bottom box of a small stack, thinking that if I can get on top of the stack, I can just kind of roll along the tops of the boxes. Or something. Eleanor starts laughing uncontrollably at the thought, but she's being no help, so I ignore her.
As I pull my self up, the bottom box collapses, making the two on top of it fall all around me, scattering stuff everywhere, basically undoing a lot of the cleaning I have done in there. I manage to keep my balance, but it's becoming pretty clear that I am going to have to pee in the next couple of seconds or my innards are going to pop open.
At my wit's end, I look towards the corner of the junk room and scream as loud as I can:
Believe it or not, that works. The noise stops. I go pee.
When I come back Eleanor tells me that a simple "Desist!" would have sufficed. I tell her to shut her worthless royal ass up, and she huffs out of the room muttering something about having the cupcake for tea. I haven't seen either of them since.
Then I get to really worrying about the cops. What if they come bursting in and shoot me thinking I'm some sort of underwear bandit? Maybe I shouldn't have pissed Eleanor off quite so soon.
So I sit down on the bed, get my phone and start to call Keith. And the alarm I set to wake me up goes off. And now I'm just about on the verge of tears. I call Keith and tell him the whole story. He assures me the cops won't be coming and tells me to forget the booth and get some sleep.
Which I do.
And the cops never come, which now makes me worry that I have the most indifferent neighbors who would ignore my screams of terror when the serial killer gets me.
And I have been playing catch up ever since.
Now you know why there haven't been any blogs this week.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Eddie-tor's Note: We contacted Eleanor of Aquitaine to verify her involvement in the incident, but she denied any knowledge of it. "Do I look like the sort of medieval English queen who would be the past life of a foul-mouthed peasant who runs around in his undergarments?" she said, as she brushed a few rainbow sprinkles off her gown. The cupcake was unavailable for comment. Calls to Chiquito went unreturned. The neighbors wouldn't answer their doors. It is highly possible that these might be the ravings of a madman.
Or whatever.
So I've been a little off-schedule of late. Maybe you didn't really notice. Who am I kidding? Of course, you noticed. Still, it wasn't as bad as this time last year. I've just gotten beat out of sorts by life, the booth, and the big picture. Especially the big picture.
I was really intending to get back on track this week, with an on time Monday Rambles post and everything. I thought it was all going to work out. And then insomnia struck.
It happens to me from time to time. Sometimes, I just can't sleep. Just. Can't. Sleep. Usually, I wake up in the middle of the night and can't get back to sleep, so I end up messing around on the computer for a couple of hours (if I'm lucky) or the rest of the night. The general rule for me is that if it hits between midnight and two, I still have a shot of getting a couple hour's worth of sleep. If it's after three, I'm probably up for good.
Sunday night, I never got to sleep at all. I was up all night long.
I answered math problems on the computer. I took a Spanish grammar test online. I wrote emails. I took a quiz and learned that, if I were a cupcake, I'd be strawberry with buttercream icing and rainbow sprinkles. Then I took another quiz and learned that in a past life I was Eleanor of Aquitaine. (Which really explains a lot, now that I think about it.) I did some genealogy work, filling in some gaps on my father's side of the family.
In fact, I did everything but actually work on a blog post, for reasons that I certainly don't understand and cannot articulate.(I think it might have something to do with not wanting to mess up my sprinkles. Or maybe it was the regal sounding voice in my head that kept saying, "Eleanor of Aquitaine does not type. She dictates.")
Anyway, my plan for Monday was to get out early, go to the booth, work for a few hours, head back to Louisville, and then meet Keith at an immigration rally. However, at the time that I really should have been hopping in the shower, it finally hits me---I'm now tired. Really tired. And sleepy.
I probably should have powered on through it, but I'm not as young as I used to be and I haven't pulled an all-nighter in decades. I was afraid of falling asleep on the bus and waking up in a corn field in Southern Indiana. Eleanor told me that simply would not do.
So I calculated out how long I could lay down and still catch a late morning bus and get a little work in before having to head back. And then I set an alarm and laid down, with Chiquito, and the cupcake and Eleanor.
Being a middle-aged man with a middle-aged man bladder, I had to get up and pee well before the alarm went off. As I walked through the kitchen to the bathroom, I heard this really faint, really quick beeping sound.
beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
It's the alarm panel from our old house alarm. We had to give up the alarm service when we gave up the landline phone a few years ago. The pad is still there, but the battery is supposed to be dead and it's inactive.
For the past few weeks, though, it's been doing this beep thing at odd times. There have been at least three such incidents. We have no idea what's causing them, but if someone punches the "off" button, it stops.
I don't have my glasses on, so I lean in really close and punch what I think is the "off" button.
And all HELL breaks loose.
The actual alarm--the house alarm which has been inactive for a long time--goes off. The house alarm. The one that's loud enough for the neighborhood to hear.
WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!WHOOP!
It was like that only way, way louder than you could ever imagine it.
Chiquito starts freaking out. Sprinkles start flying off the cupcake. Eleanor becomes immediately as nonplussed as only a medieval English queen with a scheming husband and brood of vipers for children can. And I still have to pee.
And now it gets interesting.
The alarm itself--the part that's making this ungodly racket---is in the corner of the junk room. The far corner. And the junk room is, as junk rooms, are prone to be, full of junk. Literally full. It's where the booth stuff that isn't in the shed or in storage ends up.
I have been working diligently in recent days at cleaning and clearing it out. I take a bunch of stuff over to the booth several times a week. I have thrown a few bags of trash out and gotten some of the rest organized, but it is by no means done. The infernal, blaring thing is by not the least bit accessible without spending a half day that I obviously don't have moving shit around.
So I, still with no glasses, try punching the old codes into the keypad. The main code won't work. The back-up code we gave my mother doesn't work. The code for the old cat-sitter doesn't work. Punching it doesn't work. Trying to pull it off the wall doesn't work. It won't budge.
I cannot see well enough to find a hammer.
Now, I'm starting to get worried that the neighbors are calling the police. Who will come to the house. And see my junk room. And me. With no glasses. In my undies.
Eleanor tells me that it is beneath her royal personage to cooperate with the local constabulary. Chiquito is nowhere to be found. The cupcake is curled up in the corner crying and getting those damn sprinkles everywhere.
I have no choice. I have to brave the junk room.
I decide that maybe I can climb over all the boxes and tubs and get to the screaming thing from hell. bear in mind that I still don't have my glasses on. I'm in my underwear. And I still have to pee.
I set foot on the bottom box of a small stack, thinking that if I can get on top of the stack, I can just kind of roll along the tops of the boxes. Or something. Eleanor starts laughing uncontrollably at the thought, but she's being no help, so I ignore her.
As I pull my self up, the bottom box collapses, making the two on top of it fall all around me, scattering stuff everywhere, basically undoing a lot of the cleaning I have done in there. I manage to keep my balance, but it's becoming pretty clear that I am going to have to pee in the next couple of seconds or my innards are going to pop open.
At my wit's end, I look towards the corner of the junk room and scream as loud as I can:
"WILL YOU FUCKING STOP????"
Believe it or not, that works. The noise stops. I go pee.
When I come back Eleanor tells me that a simple "Desist!" would have sufficed. I tell her to shut her worthless royal ass up, and she huffs out of the room muttering something about having the cupcake for tea. I haven't seen either of them since.
Then I get to really worrying about the cops. What if they come bursting in and shoot me thinking I'm some sort of underwear bandit? Maybe I shouldn't have pissed Eleanor off quite so soon.
So I sit down on the bed, get my phone and start to call Keith. And the alarm I set to wake me up goes off. And now I'm just about on the verge of tears. I call Keith and tell him the whole story. He assures me the cops won't be coming and tells me to forget the booth and get some sleep.
Which I do.
And the cops never come, which now makes me worry that I have the most indifferent neighbors who would ignore my screams of terror when the serial killer gets me.
And I have been playing catch up ever since.
Now you know why there haven't been any blogs this week.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Eddie-tor's Note: We contacted Eleanor of Aquitaine to verify her involvement in the incident, but she denied any knowledge of it. "Do I look like the sort of medieval English queen who would be the past life of a foul-mouthed peasant who runs around in his undergarments?" she said, as she brushed a few rainbow sprinkles off her gown. The cupcake was unavailable for comment. Calls to Chiquito went unreturned. The neighbors wouldn't answer their doors. It is highly possible that these might be the ravings of a madman.
Friday, December 23, 2016
Poor Johnny!
So you see, Johnny.
When Santa found out just exactly how bad you've been this year, is head blew right off his shoulders.
When Santa found out just exactly how bad you've been this year, is head blew right off his shoulders.
CHRISTMAS IS CANCELLED THIS YEAR!!!!
AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!!!
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Friday, December 16, 2016
Poor Johnny!
So you see, Johnny.
Mrs. Claus found out what really happens on those "holiday planning trips" that Santa takes every spring with the Easter Bunny. What happened next wasn't pretty.
Mrs. Claus found out what really happens on those "holiday planning trips" that Santa takes every spring with the Easter Bunny. What happened next wasn't pretty.
CHRISTMAS IS CANCELLED THIS YEAR!!!
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Friday, December 09, 2016
Poor Johnny!
So you see, Johnny.
The North Pole was attacked this week by a bunch of half-crazed, holiday-hating, sword-wielding ninja warriors. The elves and the reindeer fought back valiantly, but the outcome was never really in doubt. When you spend your life teaching folks to be good all the time, your self-defense skills aren't always up to par.
The North Pole was attacked this week by a bunch of half-crazed, holiday-hating, sword-wielding ninja warriors. The elves and the reindeer fought back valiantly, but the outcome was never really in doubt. When you spend your life teaching folks to be good all the time, your self-defense skills aren't always up to par.
CHRISTMAS IS CANCELLED THIS YEAR!!!!
Thursday, December 08, 2016
Friday, December 02, 2016
Poor Johnny!
So you see, Johnny.
Santa is really an android robot thing. They take him apart every year and store him away for the summer. Unfortunately, this year, when they put him back together, they discovered that his Jolliness Circuits had all melted down. After he was rebooted, he ate three of the elves and set fire to the toy warehouse, so they had to dismantle him again.
No one seems to be able to reach the Kris Kringle Geek Squad either. They've moved and left no forwarding address, and their web site is down.
Unless someone can figure out how to fix Santa,
Santa is really an android robot thing. They take him apart every year and store him away for the summer. Unfortunately, this year, when they put him back together, they discovered that his Jolliness Circuits had all melted down. After he was rebooted, he ate three of the elves and set fire to the toy warehouse, so they had to dismantle him again.
No one seems to be able to reach the Kris Kringle Geek Squad either. They've moved and left no forwarding address, and their web site is down.
Unless someone can figure out how to fix Santa,
CHRISTMAS IS CANCELLED THIS YEAR!!!!
Thursday, December 01, 2016
Thursday, November 24, 2016
My Thanksgiving Wish to You
May your meal preparations
be more like this
be more like this
than this
PS Doesn't Snoopy fold napkins like a Boss?
PPS We'll not talk about Curly shoving his arm up the nether regions of a turkey. Okay?
Monday, October 31, 2016
Happy Halloween!
And here's a clue to who I'm supposed to be.
That's the retro version anyway.
This is the nerd version.
Take your pick.
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Fenomenal Foto Funnies!
Still embroiled in battle with the booths, so here's some random pics of randomness for your entertainment.
First up some bits of fortune cookie wisdom:
Try not to think too hard about the way these two might fit together.
This was the roster for a recent weekend animation fest.
It was a good weekend.
Classic yard sale parking job I saw a couple of weeks ago
The house is on the corner of two streets. There were spaces to park on both streets. What did they do? Literally parked on the corner!!! These are my people?
I'm used to seeing odd lots of stuff at the curb these days. In fact, I seek it out! However, I do have to say that finding a neatly folded pile of clothes on the corner is kind of new to me.
Although, I do have to admit it was set out time!
First up some bits of fortune cookie wisdom:
Try not to think too hard about the way these two might fit together.
This was the roster for a recent weekend animation fest.
It was a good weekend.
Classic yard sale parking job I saw a couple of weeks ago
The house is on the corner of two streets. There were spaces to park on both streets. What did they do? Literally parked on the corner!!! These are my people?
I'm used to seeing odd lots of stuff at the curb these days. In fact, I seek it out! However, I do have to say that finding a neatly folded pile of clothes on the corner is kind of new to me.
Although, I do have to admit it was set out time!
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Hang in there folks!
The Hershey's Truck is on its way!
It's just been delayed by an emergency stop in Louisville. It will be back on its route as soon as the situation is resolved.
It should only take about six or eight weeks.
Or until I get full.
Whichever comes first.
You might want to call for another truck or two.
Those would be for me.
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
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