A Narrow Escape

So there I was, sitting quietly on the company porcelain, when I heard a double-knock on the door, which was then immediately throw open, striking the wall. "That was odd. Why the knock?" I thought.

Without hesitation, the sound of what was presumably wooden-soled shoes, or perhaps Abraham Lincoln's bronzed feet, pounding the ceramic tiles between the door and myself started out intimidating and grew to alarming. "What's about to happen?"

A final set of heel to toe cracks from one of the saddled Oxfords, followed by the shortest measurable pause, and a business man or a business animal yanked the handle of my cage, rattling it and compromising its structure. I sank lower. I felt the coolness of potty water.

A growl, then the door adjacent to mine was simultaneously thrown open and shut, rebounding each way with violent reverberation. "Oh dear, he's angry."

The seat was evidently in the wrong position because it was thrown either upwards or downwards, a detail I was not able to confirm.

The sound of a bucket of liquid being dumped out into the bowl raised me an eyebrow. "If that's organic, I'm no match for him."

Was this a man or an animal? I needed to know. I lowered my head and sneaked a peek. "Trousers, but what's this? Where's the other leg?"

It was all too odd. I needed to bail.

First Day on the Job: Taco Bell Food Tester

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Ok Clark, we’ve got some exciting new recipes for you to try today. Are you ready?

Carl: It’s Carl but sure, yeah I’m ready.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Ok, first up we have beans, lettuce, tomatoes, ground beef, cheese, sour cream and crunchy tortillas strips all wrapped up in a tortilla.

Carl: Isn’t that a burrito?

Taco Bell Lab Tech: No Caleb, burritos don’t have crunchy tortilla strips. This does so it’s different. Now, how does it taste?

Carl: It’s Carl.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Please just answer the question.

Carl: Fine. It’s sort of like the burrito I guess but a little crunchier.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Perfect. Now try this one. It has beans, lettuce, tomatoes, ground beef, cheese, sour cream and crunchy tortillas strips all stuffed into a taco shell.

Carl: That sounds a lot like the first one.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Except for the taco shell dummy! Ha! This is completely different and new. How is it Carlyle?

Carl: What? My name is Carl. It’s really easy C-A-R-L. It’s short for Carlton.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Carbo-ton?

Carl: Just Carl.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Carbomb?

Carl: No Carl.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Catbutt, got it. Now how does it taste?

Carl: Whatever. It tastes kind of like a taco supreme to me.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: Excellent. Ok, last one. This has beans, lettuce, tomatoes, ground beef, cheese, sour cream, crunchy tortillas strips wrapped in a torilla, stuffed in a taco shell.

Carl: Ok that’s a reverse double-decker taco with crunchy tortilla strips in it.

Taco Bell Lab Tech: That’s right, now eat it stupid.

Carl: It’s delicious.

What to do, what to do?

Alright folks. Something has been bothering me lately. I've always lived by the motto "no regrets." And also YOLO. But mostly "no regrets," because saying YOLO makes you sound uneducated and like you are probably the product of meth addicted parents.

But there's one thing that really has me questioning things. What if in 40 or 50 years I regret not getting more tattoos while I was younger. Will I be able to get tattoos when I'm in my 70's and 80's? Or will my skin be too wrinkled up by then?

And should I start now? Can you get a bunch all at once, or is that something that you have to pace yourself and spread them over several years? And is there a bulk discount if you get several? Or would it be best to do a short prison term and get them done on the inside?

What if I'm playing with my grandchildren and they ask me something like "Grampa, why don't you have any tattoos on your neck like Calex's grandad does?" or "Did you know that Trixi's grandad has a picture of his first wife on his forearm? Why don't you have any ex-wives and tattoos of them?"

How to I respond to that?

Your thoughts or suggestions are appreciated.

Justice League Revelations

Ok, listen up everyone. We have a lot to talk about today. Batman and I have been talking and we think that we may be in a comic book. I know that’s a pretty big bomb to drop on you guys out of the blue like that but let’s just go over what we know and take it from there.

1. We always win. Everytime. Even when we’re faced with just, like, impossible situations.
2. We even come back from the dead. Like all the time. Bad guys too.
3. Have you seen the women? Every one of them is super-hot and they all wear the most ridiculous costumes that no one going into battle would ever wear.
4. We’ve been alive and un-aging for upwards of 80 years.
5. We can never remember where we’ve been or what we’ve been doing when we aren’t involved in a major crisis.
6. Have you ever tried to find Metropolis on the map? It’s essentially the largest city in the world and it’s nowhere to be found.

So what’s next? Well first of all I think can all stop breaking our necks to save the world. From what I can tell it’s never actually been in any real dan...whoa, ahrg… I… can’t… seem to… TRUTH… control… my… JUSTICE… body… or… SPANDEX… speech… son of  a… OK EVERYONE- DOOMSDAY IS HEADED TOWARDS EARTH AND IT’S UP TO US TO STOP HIM FOR SOME REASON. TIME TO PUT ON OUR SKIN-TIGHT AND IMPRACTICAL COSTUMES AND SAVE THE DAY. Why can’t I just stay home and watch Games of Thrones for once? UP, UP AND AWAY.

List of Jobs Available Based on Fingernail Length

Short
Accountant
College Professor
Business Executive

Medium
Carney
Sign Spinner
Roadie for aging rock band
Renaissance Faire organizer
Drug Mule

Long
Reclusive Billionaire
Cat Lady
Bag Lady

"I'm SKINNIN' this cat. You just hold the tail..."

...is what I meant to say.  Turns out the wrong verb can land you in the H. R. department pretty quickly around here.  Which is fine, because I don't mind filling out forms all that much and sensitivity training sounds enjoyable enough, but it is just the general attitude of everyone on this whole floor that doesn't sit well with me. 

Would you like to have an example of hypocrisy cited? 

Take for instance the personnel director, who I clearly remember saying a few days ago, did not want to see me in her office again.  Yet, here at her desk I sit, not fully one week removed from those same comments, and at her insistence no less.

Look, I understand that I am more of an outdoor cat, so there could be a certain...transition period while I adapt to certain customs and "office etiquette" that these cubicle dwellers hold up as sacred and irreproachable.  But, when I see a meal in the fridge labelled with yesterday's date, that's a free lunch up for grabs for the first person in that morning.  Anyway, the way I see it, is that in the future, Steve can either deal with me eating his falafel in silence or learn to write the correct date on his stupid imitation Tupperware label.

Calendars are cheap and it is hardly common knowledge that he is diabetic.

Frank's Self Checkout System

Hello and welcome to the Kroger Self Checkout system, my name is Frank. Frank is sitting on the stool with his forehead resting on the Self Checkout Attendant's terminal just ahead of you.

The following are the rules you, the customer, are to abide by during Frank's shift. Remember, Frank is always fair, but deviate slightly from any of his rules and he will lead you to your swift humiliation, so read carefully.

1. Your exact bagging sequence must be determined before approaching the Self Checkout terminal. You are not to consider rearranging items once they are inside a bag. Accidentally put the bread in with the milk? Smashed sandwiches. Tell your kids to grow up.

2. All fruit and vegetable codes must be memorized before approaching the terminal. You will not attempt to match the green apple in your hand to one of the 17 apple types shown on the screen.

3. If you fail to scan the item within 10 seconds, put the item aside. You will not be buying it today.

4. If you haven't checked by now, you are probably going home with cracked eggs. There is nothing that can be done at this point. Sorry about your bad luck.

5. No pushing, biting or talking at all.

6. No coupons.

7. Do not approach if it is your birthday. People always think they are owed something on their birthday and Frank does not owe anybody anything.

8. You must not be pregnant. Pregnant people do not know how to operate touch-screen computers and neither does Frank.

9. In addition, do not attempt to scan any item related to pregnancy, planning or prevention, or anything that has anything to do with the cycles between pregnancies. I will not say the words, but you know what I mean.

10. You're still holding an item forbidden in #9, please put it back.

11. If you scan anything packaged in red, white or blue, you must sing the song "My Country 'Tis of Thee" in its entirety. This one makes people uncomfortable, but remember, Frank is always fair.

12. If you brought a baby with you, add 10% to your total bill. Babies have no business in Frank's Self Checkout line.

13. You must never touch the "Request Assistance" button on the screen in front of you. If for any reason the machine says that an attendant has been notified to assist you, just walk away. Frank is not coming.

14. Upon completing your transaction, you must ring the bell for excellent service and shout out so that management can hear you say "Thanks again for everything Frank!"

Best of luck.

Placing an ad

Phone rings in an office

AD GUY: Good afternoon, Nashville Daily News ad sales.

CALLER: Yeah, I’d like to place an ad for my business in your paper.

AD GUY: Ok, great! How big of an ad would you like to place?

CALLER: Well, how much we talkin’?

AD GUY: A half of a page is 300 per day, a quarter is 175---

CALLER: Whoa, 175? That’s a little much for a quarter, ya think?

AD GUY: Um, well, you can get an eighth for 100.

CALLER: Yeah, that’s more like it.

AD GUY: Great, whats the name of your business?

CALLER: Sweet, man.

AD GUY: The name is Sweet?

CALLER: Nah dude, its Ricky’s.

AD GUY: Just Ricky’s?

CALLER: Yeah.

AD GUY: And are you Ricky?

CALLER: The one and only, brother.

AD GUY: Ok, Ricky, what should the ad say?

CALLER: I want it to say Ricky’s in big bold letters. And my pager number should be on there.

AD GUY: Did you say pager number?

CALLER: Yeah, like how customers call me, ya know.

AD GUY: Got it. And what about an address or phone number?

CALLER: For address put “10^th Street between Elm and Westwood St. and outside of Pickett’s Gas Station.

AD GUY: Wait, wha-?

CALLER: Never past Westwood. Put that in all caps. Not again. Not while Jinx is running things.

AD GUY: Um, we-

CALLER: And No schools. In bold.

AD GUY: Sir, what kind of business are you advertising?

CALLER: Just put, sales and recreation. That’s good.

AD GUY: Are you advertising selling drugs?

CALLER: Uh, naw, just recreational…products.

AD GUY: You’re trying to advertise for drugs in the paper?

CALLER: No, no-its just…Well, business is slow.

AD GUY: I don’t even--- Got any ganja?

CALLER: You know it, bro. 50 bucks a quarter.

AD GUY: Pickett’s in 15 minutes?

CALLER: See you there. Cash only.

It Was Me

It was me. It was always me. The smell on the elevator? Me. The smell near the copier? Me again. The smell as you pass my cubicle? Of course that was me. It’s always me. But it’s not just the smell. I also take all the pens near the phones. And the note pad. I park too close to the line next to your car in the parking lot. My chair squeaks incessantly as I rock back and forth in it throughout the day thinking about the next thing I’m going to do. Which is blow my stuffy nose again and again…and again and again. I have loud personal conversations that make you uncomfortable while on my cell phone sitting at my desk. I dig through your lunch every day but not enough for you to notice. I tangle your phone cord every night after you leave work. I transfer calls to you that should get transferred to someone else. I am your work nightmare.

But really, if I’m truly honest about it, it’s not because I don’t like you, it’s because I don’t like me.


Just kidding, it’s because I don’t like you.

Stop hitting me, Bro.

If your story is so boring that you need to keep smacking my arm/ leaning in to my personal space/chasing me into the men's room to get me to focus up long enough for you to get to the grand finale, maybe storytelling isn't your thing and you should just talk a little less.  This isn't addressed to anyone in particular in my office, but read the room, Carl! C'mon, man.

Also, what is the deal with airline food?  Has anyone touched on that already?  Stay tuned.

Terrible Names for a New Hamburger Restaurant

• Burger Balls
• Uranus Burger
• Shampoo Burger
• Oh That Burger Tastes Okay
• Crank Burger
• Sexual Harassment Burger
• Bungling Burgler Burger
• Bulging Bugler Burger
• Donkey Burger
• Is That Horse-meat Burger

Things I Require When Staying at Your House

First of all, thanks for letting me stay here tonight. I have a couple more legs to go on this roadtrip and, as you know, I’m far too cheap to stay at a hotel. For your convenience I’ve prepared a list explaining the things that I will need when I stay at your house.

1. The master bedroom. Please remove all personal photos but leave the picture frames. I’ll replace your pictures with pictures of me and/or me and my cat.
2. Also, my cat will be joining me. His name is William the Claw-queroar but also goes by his official title, The Great High Puddin’tate of Catmandu.
3. A key for ingress and egress.
4. Also, my cat will need a separate key as he keeps his own hours.
5. Fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice. As you know I can’t drink grapefruit juice because it interferes with my medication but I sleep better knowing that it’s there.
6. The temperature must be set to 68 degrees in the summer and 71 in the winter. During the spring and fall months anywhere from 69 to 70 degrees is acceptable.
7. A white-noise machine. If you do not have a white-noise machine then please stand near me as I sleep and make a steady whooshing sound with your mouth. Of course you don’t have to do it all night, just until I hit REM sleep. Be sure to begin whooshing again as I transition to light sleep and then back into another REM cycle.
8. Breakfast in the morning. I am allergic to dairy, wheat, wheatgrass, lemongrass, most kinds of metal, and as I already mentioned I can’t drink grapefruit juice. Please prepare accordingly.

Today Everybody Won Except Me

This morning, on the way to the office, there was an accident on the freeway which stopped traffic just before my exit. The man driving the pickup truck who honked at me earlier crossed the double white line so that he could drive on the shoulder and around all of the cars in front of us. I didn't get a chance to shake my fist at him for that stunt he pulled before so I followed him but I got pulled over by a policeman and was issued a ticket, so I got back in line and he won.

In the breakroom I was talking to Ricky about the missing Malaysian airplane that everyone on the news was talking about. I told him I heard that authorities believe the plane's transponder was intentionally disabled but then he asked what a transponder was and I said it was a device that sends signals from an airplane. Just then Troy came around the corner and overheard the conversation and embarrassed me saying I had no idea what I was talking about and that I am an idiot. That may be true, but what difference does it make? He's not even an airplane pilot, I think he's a mortgage broker. In any case, I was butted out of the conversation and he totally won.

At noon I went to get my lunchbox out of the refrigerator and there was Ernie rummaging through everybody's food. Somehow he figured out the code to unlock my lunchbox and I watched as he took out my sandwich and unwrapped my candybar. I said 'Hey, that's my lunch' and with a mouth-full he told me to shut my face then walked off and he won. His desk is next to mine so I watched him win for the next fifteen minutes.

On the way home I stopped in for a haircut and wrote my name on the list. I waited quietly for twenty minutes reading a celebrity magazine and I don't like celebrities. When the man ahead of me finished getting his hair cut it was my turn so I stood up and took off my jacket. At that moment a woman commanded her four kids through the door and barked at the barber saying she checked in online, so they all got to go in front of me and they won.

When I got home I opened the mailbox and found a scathing letter from my HOA notifying me that my lawn "looks like trash and the general appearance of the property has ruined the aesthetic harmony of the community" and that most of my neighbors have asked to have me removed from the neighborhood. I looked to my left and there was Brad and his wife standing on their porch, arms around each other watching the HOA people hammer the Yard of the Month sign into his grass. All of my other neighbors were gathered around clapping for him. Brad always wins.

Today everybody won except me.

Hold on. Just as soon as I finished writing that previous sentence my phone rang and I answered it and there was a voice saying I have just won a free cruise. Look who's going to win now.

Allow me to introduce myself

Good day, (assuming it is day-time where you are otherwise, good night.)... Not like "goodnight, it's time to go to bed, but more like 'Good evening'

Let's start over..

Good day or Good evening,

When my friend, mentor, confidant, and man of nobility Will recently asked me to contribute to this humor blog, my first thought was: Humor?? On the Internet??? That just might work!!

And here I thought the Internet was just where lonely people post and watch cat videos and even lonelier people try to meet unwitting strangers to defile, murder, or defile and murder. Thanks Craigslist!

Anyway, buckle up, 'cause this is gonna be a wild ride.

And in case you were wondering, my handle is pronounced like 'monetary.' It is not pronounced "Monet Terry." Monet Terry is my handle on an unrelated fine arts blog.

That's all for now!

MoneTerry

Eyes Cream

Hey, there.  Welcome to Bob's Twisted Ice Creams.  What can I get for you?

Oh, uh...never been in before.  Just thought I'd see what you have.

Well, glad to have you in.  Thirty-two original, proprietary flavors.

Oh, great.  I noticed they aren't labeled.  Wait, did you just say proprie...

Oh, no need for labels!  I have them all memorized.  Not a lot of turn over in the frozen, tasty treat biz you know.  Now, what'll it be.  Pick your poison...or any other flavor.  Heh, heh.

Um...ok.  I'll go with the chocolate I guess.

Ah ha ha ha!!!                      Oh, sorry.  You were serious.  I guess that does look a little like chocolate.  I don't think Haggis is in season.

Wha...Nevermind.        Is that red one...

Tomato?!  Sure is!  Man, it is hot in here.  Especially for an ice cream parlor.  Does your chin ever sweat excessively?  Come to think of it, that might make a nice flav...
 
Whoa!     Just...whoa.         Just hold your cabbage a minute.  Don't say it.        My good sir, I think I am starting to see where this sketch is going.  The ice creams aren't labeled, so I am to go down the line naming each flavor I think I see, and then you correct me by telling me what each one really is.

Yes, sir.

Ok, let's get started.  I shall play my part with vigor.  I'll have the vanilla.

You mean the toothpaste.

Ok, how about the mint chocolate chip.

That would be, of course,Gorgonzola.

Of course.  And, the pink one here.  Not strawberry I suppose.

Cookies and Clam!

Yes, well...how about the one behind it?

That flavor is wallet.

Sure. And next to it?

Antonio Banderas.  No, wait...Sriracha. Sorry about that.

No, worries.  Hey, how about this purple flavor.

Angst.

Very good.  And over here.

That would be Carl.  I could heat that up for you if you like.  Would you be interested in a Hot Carl?

Uh...

Please order a "Hot Carl".

Certainly not!  Now, moving on.  The yellow one there?

Toe.

And, that one?

Austrian.

No, the other one.

Oh...Stamp.

Ok, I think we are done here and I'll be on my way.  Before I go, I think this is the part of the sketch where I ask about your best seller.

That would be orange sherbet.

Eww!  Now, that is disgusting.

No idea why people still order it.  Be ice cream or be nothing.

A Real Banger in the Mouth

Having recently been commissioned by the blogmaster for a monthly contribution, I have felt a tremendous pressure to generate a substantial and loyal following in order to "increase ad revenue" for the site.  To that end, I'll be relying heavily on Arrested Development quotes and very little original content of my own.  I have no idea what sort of payment structure the other contributors have worked out for their submissions to this blog, but I can only hope my random musings will be found by all to be snarky, pithy, and worthy of my compensation.

Here we go.

I recently attended my first and last Blue Man Group concert/travesty, and in the words of Wayne Jarvis, "I did not find their buffoonery amusing". I fully understand and admit that I was approximately 5-10 minutes late in my arrival, but in what context does that warrant shining an enormous spotlight on myself and my special lady friend as we were attempting to make our way quietly to our seats.  It certainly seems the Blue Men would want late arrivals to create less of a disturbance, not draw everyone's attention to the unfortunate guests.  And, anyway, as I was attempting to explain to the usher while being blinded by said spotlight, I was not allowed to enter the auditorium with my appletini in hand. So, I had little recourse but to either remain outside in the atrium while continuing to sip in a leisurely manner or tilt the glass "bottoms up" like some sort of lumberjack.

If you have ever been to the the Blue Men, I am sure you will heartily agree with my assessment of their shenanigans, and if you have never been, consider your self fortunate.

Also, if you have been to more than one of their shows, we have nothing left to discuss.

I thank you,
Stately

Monday Morning Meeting at a Recently Disenfranchised Taco Bell

First off- there’s no need to panic. Look, I know this sounds terrible but c’mon what did that franchise contract ever do for us? Those corporate fat-cats don’t know what it’s like down here in the trenches. Have they ever slung tacos at winos at a 2:00 AM drive-thru? Not likely. Have they ever had to answer to angry mobs demanding that we put the Encharito back on the menu? No way.

If anything our corporate association held us back. Now we don’t have to navigate the bureaucratic maze of red-tape when we want to serve our ever-popular “Not Rat Meat (Wink-Wink) Fajita Taco Grillers”. And we don’t have to answer to anyone for frying up that extremely fetid chicken coated with crushed-up bits of expired taco shells and calling it “Fresco Fish Taquitos”. By the way, mixing the rancid mayo with the leftover fire sauce and calling it “Spicy Tartar Sauce” was genius Andy. Also, a special thanks to Roy for sifting through the garbage, finding the discarded Fire-sauce packets and squeezing out the unused remains.

Speaking of garbage, I’m so proud of Delaney for thinking on her feet when we ran out of Mountain Dew Shock-and-Awe-Rage-Extreme-Power-Crush-Smash fruit drink. Garbage water was a fantastic substitute- there’s more nutritional value and it’s better for our bottom line.

Now I do need to mention one item that we aren’t going to continue. The “Mango Chutney Baja Burri-Tac-Enchi-Salad with Stray Dog Leavings” wasn’t the seller that I hoped it would be. I think the main problem is that it’s a bit too fancy for our demographic. Nobody really knows what chutney is and most of our customers probably felt like we were giving them the high-hat. We need to remember that we feed the barely-literate, oft-drunken, self-hating American People. Let’s respect that. Now get out there and cram more “Diseased Lab Monkey Chalupas” in those toothless mouths until they get lock-jaw!

What it Means When I Roll-Up My Sleeves

Time to get to work!

I want to look casual.

My sleeves are embarrassingly short when buttoned.

I am about to pick up something from the trash can that I shouldn’t have thrown in the trash can.

I have a new watch, look!

I must wear gloves but not because it’s cold:

A)     I’m handling raw meat or

B)     I’m manipulating robotic arms that are, in turn, handling radioactive material

My forearms look especially masculine and attractive today.

My wrists are sweaty.