Stealth Decoration? Funny.

The first place I lived after moving back to Calgary and finally vacating my parents' house was a basement suite in Marda Loop.  It was old and creaky and full of spiders, as basements are so often.
There were some good things about living in that place, as well as bad...my landlord, who lived upstairs, is a really nice guy and offered me, on just about every occasion I met him, weed.  Seems his time was divided between working, smoking dope and having loud sex with various females.  I know, because I could hear every single thing he did upstairs.
He had a fusbal table, and I don't know if he just wasn't very good, or if he was really really emphatic in his play, but the ball would leap off the table a lot and roll across the floor...my ceiling.
I knew when he liked a girl, because he'd spend a lot of "time" on her, and he'd also be pretty vocal.  There was one girl over a lot who he REALLY seemed to like, and it was a shame when she moved away; the silver lining was the next girl he brought home, he liked less, and he was really quiet about it.

Anyway that has very little to do with this story.  It's just sort of funny in itself, and one of those life lessons we learn when we are young and think we're poor and live in a basement- don't live in a goddamn basement.  They are full of spiders and gas leaks and the sounds of passion from above.

I lived there for a year, and Bob moved in about halfway.  It was much nicer to have company.  We'd laugh about our landlord and his escapades.  When Bob moved in, landlord was out back, smoking a big fat joint with his friend, and we were trying to move a couch in.  Moving into a basement is a pain the ass, especially when it has narrow doorways that end in turns.  We were trying to figure out the best plan of attack when buddy puts down his joint and is like "I'm an engineer.  I can get this in."  He sizes up the couch, mutters a bit, and nods.
It can be done!
Next thing we realize, him and landlord grab the couch and cram it bodily through the door, scraping the frame, ripping the couch and putting a really big dent in the wall.
It was awesome.

Again, though, that isn't what this story is about.  But another life lesson- two dudes smoking pot are probably not the wisest of movers, but they will provide you with some comedic relief on an otherwise mundane and crappy day of heavy lifting.

 Bob and I lived there over one winter holiday, and the neighbourhood is similar to any other in Calgary in the wintertime- snowy, under-plowed, and occasionally brightly lit with Christmas lights.

Across the street from our house was an evergreen tree.  It should have looked just like every other evergreen tree- a Christmas tree, a green triangle that is broad at the base and pointed at the top, waiting to be adorned with an angel (with a tree up her butt) or a star.

But no, the guy who owns that tree has trimmed it so that it is upside-down.  Instead of the base being broad, the top is.  And the bottom is a point.  So it looks like an upside-down Christmas tree.

We always laughed at the tree because it's weird and why the hell would you trim it that way?  It became even funnier when winter came around and the guy put Christmas lights on it, drawing even more attention to its weirdness.

We figured it was time to complete the look.  We cut a big star out of cardboard and covered it in tin foil so we could place it at the base of that tree.  The upside-down Christmas tree.

So funny, right?  Except this was in the early stages of comedic follow through...and even though we had all the tools, and everything was in place, we didn't actually ever get around to putting the star at the bottom of the tree.  Maybe it was too much residual pot smoke, made us apathetic.

This is not the only case of stealth decoration that we have pondered.  We have also found numerous horrible, hilarious or offensive items in thrift stores or art shops or wherever which we feel would make marvelous (secret) additions to other people's properties and homes.  For example:
1. At the clay place, they have this bisque baby with a sunflower around its head.  Like one of those damn Anne Geddes things, where the babies look like Halloween corpse babies.  I'm sorry if you like those things.  I think they're awful.  You get to buy the bisque pieces and then you paint them as you like and they fire them and you take them home.  This sunflower baby is empty-eyed and just about the creepiest thing I've ever seen.  If only it didn't break the rule of not costly...it's a hundred bucks or something!  A lottery win joke, for sure.
2. On the topic of clay, we painted a bunch of really amateurish figurines with friends in a round of extreme painting.  No one wanted to keep them, because we did a terrible job and they are embarrassing.  We considered taking them to social gatherings and leaving them in random spots.  In the end, Kim took them all to her Mom's and she, being the lovely soul that she is, took them in and gave them a home.
3. I think the following would be funny to leave at other people's houses: clothing (not incriminating clothing, but funny stuff- like a weird hat, or one shoe...); wall hangings (get something good...like some really funny scripture); food (in the fridge- you don't want to ruin their house.  But getting a really weird item of food, like pork hocks, and leaving it in the fridge, is funny to me.).
4. Those lawn displays of flamingos and whatnot that people get delivered and later removed could stand some improvement.  Mainly, you get all that set up, like it's going to get removed...and then it just stays there.  He he he.

I like keeping people guessing.  To me, the funniest part of this is thinking about people discovering my work and thinking "Where the heck did that come from??".  I especially like imagining that they aren't sure if they did it themselves.

Moral of this story: Mess with Thy Neighbour.  I'm pretty sure it's a commandment.

Rabbit Faces and Other Oddities? Funny.

Bob took up fishing a couple years ago.  I followed suit after I realized that watching someone fish is boring, but catching fish is fun.  I still haven't really caught the "shopping for fishing stuff" bug, though.  So while Bob looks at line and lures and flies and other fishing junk, I peruse the animal product aisle.
I don't know if it's really called the animal product aisle, but if you go to any fishing section of any sporting goods store, you will find an aisle that is entirely populated by dead animal parts.
They're all dried up and packaged nicely and ready for you to purchase and turn into fishing flies, apparently.  These are the old ways, the ways that codgers named Bert and Stanley and...well, Bob...use to make little furry yucky looking things that stupid, blind fish like to eat.
I'm not into tying flies yet either, so I don't look at this stuff in order to make a newer, better, uglier and more disgusting fly.
Nope.
I'm into the potential for funny.
And it lies in the purchase of a $3.49 rabbit face.
In the store, they will call it a "rabbit mask".

 

That in itself is funny.  It's only a mask if you are a very small human (read: baby) or if you are an actual rabbit. This makes me think of rabbits at Halloween...

"What are you going as this year?"

"Fred."

"How are you going to dress as Fred?"

"I got his face."

This also makes me think of another entry I must write about masks and a very, very funny (to me) idea that Bob and I have for Halloween.  More on that when I write about it.

Back to the rabbit face.  I found them while looking in wonder at all the bird wings, the feathers, the tails, the bits and pieces of skin and fur and tendon, and there they were: rabbit faces.  In all their dehydrated, eyeless glory.

They come in all colours, which is weird.  There are "normal" rabbit faces in browns and greys.  There are black ones and white ones and pink ones and blue ones and yellow ones and all the colours of the rainbow- the producers of rabbit faces for fly tying are accepting of all manner of rabbit faces.

There are littler ones and bigger ones.  The ones that caught my eye were, as previously mentioned, a mere $3.49.

My rule for cost-effectiveness is immediately satisfied.  $3.49 and imagine the multitude of uses!!!

What I would use a Rabbit Face for

(you've been warned)

1. Baby shower gift.  "And here's a gift from Heather!  Oh what a lovely...what the hell!"

2. Halloween costume.  This requires no explanation, but would require a bit of string.

3. Party favor.  "Don't leave without a rabbit face!"  This is particularly effective at children's parties.

4. Decorating feature.  Tack them to the walls for a splash of colour and texture.  Hang them from chandeliers to add a flair of the natural.  Drape over a lamp for a dramatic shadow play.

5. Horrifying surprise.  "Oh my lovely wife packed my lunch.  What kind of sandwich today?"

6.  Pet stand-in.  "Now, honey, we are not sure if you are ready for the responsibility of a pet, so we're going to see how you take care of...this!"

7. Not at all least, and the first thing I thought of: Brilliant Easter gift.  "Rabbit faces all around!!!"

There are other weird things to buy in the animal parts aisle...for example, if you are one of those fancy brides who wants feathers in their decor for some reason, you can buy peacock feathers there.  Or, if you are looking to have a more rustic feel to your celebration, you can just go ahead and buy half a flattened pheasant.  I'm not kidding.  The whole works, flattened like those new chickens they have at the grocery store that are meant to go on the grill- only this pheasant's grillable goodness is long gone and all you're going to get is the outer parts.

Or, if you want to brag about how much tail you got over the weekend, why not help yourself to a wide selection of animal tails?  Fox, deer, weasel, mouse, dolphin...there isn't an animal whose rear is safe from the harvest.

So, good people, if I ever get my act and $20 together, you may find yourself the first lucky recipient of the Rabbit Face Basket O' Goodies.  Who's having a baby next???

Moral of this story: Rabbits would like their faces back.

A Fish Out of Water? Funny.

I was trying to be clever with the title, but a fish that actually has no water isn't funny, it's sad.  In this episode the fishes will not be without water, and the potential will not be without hilarity.

Bob and I went to the waterslide park in West Ed over spring break.  This is how I stay young: I do the same stuff that kids do.  Except now I also eat vegetables.

Anyway so we were playing around, and it's fun.  A few of the slides are akin to having a really, really persistent and violent enema, which is uncomfortable, so I avoided those (strangely, Bob did not...).  But mostly it's fun.  I even broke one of my rules and went in the wave pool (I was on constant lookout for bandaids and hair.  Working at a pool did NOT increase my love of standing water.).

After, we did other stuff that one does when in the world's largest mall.  We went bowling, we drank, we ate, we shopped.  We visited the T & T market they have there, and looked at all the gross Asian products on offer, including live tilapia.

And we were struck with an amazing thought.

Imagine this:
Smuggle tilapia- live freaking fish the size of dinner plates- into the wave pool.

"Mommy this is soooo fun OMG!"
SLAP
"Mommeeeeeeeeee something hit me in the face!  Wahhhh"
"Nothing hit you relax and keep jumping in the waves!  It's awesome"
SLAP
"Augh what the hell a fish just smacked into my face!"
"Told you so mommy"

HILARIOUS.
The whole thing is funny. 

First, procure fishes. 
 "NUMBA SEVEN!"
"Ah yes that's me, good sir."
"What you want??"
"Indeed, yes, I would like 12 of your finest, most vigorous tilapia."

Second, smuggle fishes.
This could be done in a number of ways, but the funniest (to me) is bringing them in your bathing suit.  Especially as a girl.
"That woman looks...lumpy."
"Stop staring!"

Third, release fishes.
"That lumpy woman is doing some kind of shimmy dance in the waves."
"Look, if you don't stop staring at her, you're going to get kicked in the nuts."

Fourth, enjoy results.
(see previous conversation between mother and child and fish)
"Lifeguard, there are FISH in the pool!"
"Shut up kid."
"Lifeguard, there are FISH in the pool!  And don't tell my son to shut up."
"Maam, there are no fish in the pool.  Don't be ridiculous."

Optional bonus round:
Recruit a companion to come in, dressed in full fishing garb, carrying tackle box.  Cast into waves.  A million points if you manage to catch a fish.


So why, you ask, did we not follow our mantra and enact the comedic follow-through on this one?
Well, it breaks the rules.
1. Live tilapia, even at an Asian market, are expensive.  So is the entry to the wavepool.
2. I'm pretty sure that we'd be arrested.
3. The fish would die.  A horrible, painful, albeit wavy, death.  We were trying to think of what sort of sea creature could endure the cocktail of chemicals that is the West Ed wavepool, and we're pretty sure that only Ogopogo or the Loch Ness monster could do it.  So no dice.  It would be too mean.

But it is damn funny in my head.  I bet it's funny in yours, too, right?

Moral of this story: Kids getting slapped with fish is funny.  There may be potential for some real follow through here...

Playing Dress Up? Funny.

For Yvonne, who, I think, is becoming accustomed to my habit of coming up with schemes that do not come to light.

Once upon a time, I was in Junior High, and I, like all humans of that age, believed I was the most important person to ever walk on the planet.  And I thought I could do no wrong.

It was Halloween time and my two female friends wanted to dress as prostitutes.  Not kidding.  I, on the other hand, was a bit of a tomboy (I once wore my Dad's pants to school- it was ill-advised to do so on a day that we had dance class, considering his 34 inch waist on my 14-year-old frame, and no belt to boot), so I decided to take the high road and go with: hobo.

When I started to get dressed to go out with my hooker friends, my Mom looked at my outfit (which wasn't really all that different from my regular clothes) and asked "What are you supposed to be?", to which I replied, in all my brilliance: "Dirty".

That didn't fly, so I was then hurriedly dressed as "Dead Lawyer", another instance where I got to wear my father's clothes.  The costume was well-received in our upper-middle class neighbourhood full of divorcees and white-collar criminals.

Anyway, the point of all that is I am now pretty committed when it comes to costuming.  I don't ever intend on repeating the "dirty hobo" fiasco.

Side note: in case you are wondering, the two girls did not end up dressed as prostitutes.  They were "hippies".  I think their conversation may have been slightly more awkward than my "dirty" one.

 So now, when faced with an opportunity to dress up, I go all out- no pre-made costumes, no recycled costumes, no halfway anything.  Full out balls to the wall dress up.

This is definitely a way in which, in most cases, one can fit in some good comedic follow through in one's life.

Example 1: Comic Expo Cosplay
Last year, I went as Ash Ketchum, and looked rad.  I met a Misty at the Expo and we took a picture.  It's an amazing display of awkwardness.  I was the only Ash but I must have set a trend- this year, we saw at least 6 more Ash...es.  Ashii?  Ashs?  Anyway.  I was groundbreaking.

This year, my friend wanted to be Daenerys, from Game of Thrones.  I helped a bit with her costume and decided it would be suitable to go as Doreah, her handmaiden.  APPARENTLY no one knows who that is, because I spent the better part of the day being pushed aside by rabid nerds wanting a picture with Daenerys without some other broad spoiling the frame.  It was actually fairly amusing, considering I could out-geek a lot of these supposed "fans".

Next year?  I'm not telling.  That's part of the beauty of dressing up.  The element of surprise.

Example 2: Beerfest
Now, you may be thinking: this is not a venue for dressing up.  It is a place of drinking, nothing more.  And to you I would say: WRONG!  What a lost opportunity for someone so closed-minded.
As the fates would have it, Beerfest fell on Cinco De Mayo (the fifth of May, for those of you who don't read Spanish).  Had we gone on May 4th, we certainly would have dressed as Jedis and thanked everyone with a "May The Fourth Be With You".  But no it was Cinco De Mayo, and we would dress as Mexicans, hoping to avoid any real Mexicans lest they be offended.

Heather's Guide to: Dressing Like a Mexican (don't try this in Mexico, for the love of god)

Step 1: Purchase straw hats at dollar store.
Step 2: Supplement with multi-coloured floor rugs.
Step 3: Cut head holes in rugs.
Step 4: Adorn selves with "ponchos" and "sombreros".  Proceed to Beerfest.  Beeline to ticket sales and procure at least $100 worth of tickets.  Drink at a rapid rate.
Step 5: When someone says "Happy Cinco De Mayo!", throw hats onto floor with gusto, sing the Mexican Hat Dance song and dance around.  Finish with a hearty "Ole!".
Step 6: Repeat as necessary.

 Instant Mexican!

Example 3: Grad
This one is not going to come to fruition in real life, but it's dang funny in my head.  And I think there may be an opportunity here for a modified follow-through at a different location.
So let's say you are a teacher.  And let's say you teach one of those grades where people think they are progressing to a new stage and require a Graduation Ceremony.  Like kindergarten.  Or Grade 6.  Or Grade 9.  Or Grade 12.  There are a lot of these stages.  Anyway, let's choose one for example's sake....how about Grade 9???
Ok so you teach Grade 9, and the day approacheth where the children will no longer be children, but...wait, they'll still be children.  They'll no longer go to school, but...wait...yes they will.  Oh I remember.  It's the all-important movement from junior high to Senior High.  
And you find out that this day will be celebrated at the very same venue that hosted your OWN Grade 9 grad.
How surreal.
Anyway so then imagine that you suggest to your colleague that it would be funny (see how this comedic follow through thing works?!) if you still had your grad dress from Grade 9 and you wore it as a chaperone.  Ha ha, right?  And then imagine that your colleague totally gets on board and rallies the fun troops from work and you're all going to get amazing retro dresses and look awesome and actually have a good time!
Hilarious, right?
So while this might not be feasible in real life, for a number of reasons, here's how I propose the follow-through alternative goes: 

How to Relive Grad like it's the 90s

Step 1: Purchase/find outstanding grad dresses.  Remember the rule of not costly. 

Step 2: Don said dresses.

Step 3: Gather at suitable venue- retro night at a club/pub, someone's house with retro tunes on the ghetto blaster (remember when we called them that?  Jeez).

Step 4: Drink Mike's Hard and Smirnoff Ice and barf.

...that sounds pretty much like what my Grade 9 grad was like.

Moral of this story: Dress up like you mean it.  It's funny.

I pledge allegiance to the funny...

You know those things you say, "wouldn't it be funny if..." things, those things you never really intend to do, those jokes that you make so that people laugh at the potential hilarity that would ensue should you ever actually do those things?

Those things would be even funnier if we did them.

I make a lot of those types of jokes, those what if jokes. That, along with plagiarizing from The Simpsons and people funnier than me, is the basis of my humour.

And now I figure, with only one life to live, and a desire to maximize the funny in as many situations as much of the time as possible, that I should embark on a project:

The Pledge of Comedic Follow Through

Life is funnier when people do funny stuff.  So as much as possible, when not illegal, not costly and not harmful to myself or others (at least, harmful in a non-funny way), I'm going to try and make good on those jokes and actually DO those things. When not possible, I'll write about them here, so at least a small amount of the funny can be paid forward, and maybe others can go ahead and do some funny stuff too.
 

I figure I'll also write about funny stuff that happens.  And while I'm trying to be more positive in my life, I bet I'll also use this as an avenue to complain about stuff, but sometimes that's funny too.

So enjoy good people, as you read about my attempts to increase the funny in our lives.