Going Out With A Bang? Funny.

I generally am on a perilous precipice of employment, where I've spent the last few years waiting to see if my job will disappear or, miraculously, extend for another term.  I've been lucky, and have basically been gifted a job for the last while.
But I've told many a joke of what would happen if I were to find myself suddenly and completely jobless.
I have a very dear friend who works contract to contract and is in a much more fickle field than I am.  He spends a lot of his time in his underwear, smoking a bubbly pipe and watching Star Trek: TNG.  At least, that's what he does when he's on the dole.  When he is working, I imagine he is still sometimes in his underwear and sometimes smoking that bubbly pipe but probably not watching TNG because he's supposed to be editing something current, like "Degrassi: The Next Generation."
...is that really what it's called?
He tells a lot of jokes about unemployment as well.

In "Harold and Kumar Go to Whitecastle", there's a very funny scene where a disgruntled employee states that he would like to 'burn this mother down'.  That's the sort of joke that Trent and I make when we hypothesize about a grand exit after being fired.

We are gonna burn this motha to the GROUND!

 

That sort of thing.
My most-often made joke, which doesn't need only apply to being fired (although would most certainly RESULT in being fired), has to do with pooping.  Specifically, on someone's desk.  Who, depends on the context of the joke.  I swore on a number of occasions that I would poop on the desk of whoever was in charge of (not) paying me, then telling me I owed THEM money when I had the GALL to ask for payment for services rendered.

 

That sort of thing.
Now, I have not yet pooped on someone's desk, nor do I think I'd ever actually do that.  In my head it's very funny.  I need a newspaper to really sell it.  I'd be sitting there, doing my biznass, reading the paper, and buddy who owns the desk would come in and be like "WTF" and I'd be all "Hey, do you mind???"
He he he.
But I would probably be arrested.  At the very least, fired and completely unemployable for a number of years.  It goes against the rules, not just those I put forth in the comedic follow-through mandate but also those pretty much universally agreed upon by society.  One simply does not poop on another person's property.
My friend recently lost his job, which wasn't such a bad thing because it was sucking the life from him.  He's had some very fulfilling jobs, and some very terrible ones, and this one was in the upper ranks of suckage.
Thus, we brainstormed ways to make it a Grand and Lucrative Exit.
Of course, our thoughts turned to theft.
I heard recently on the radio that 90% or something of employees admit to stealing office supplies.  I assume this doesn't just really mean "office supplies", but I think means "stuff at work".  One woman called in and admitted that she had stolen toilet paper from work.  She was very regretful.  I wouldn't be wasting my time on crappy office toilet paper...every workplace I've ever been in can't shell out the extra ten cents for that second ply, let alone a third, so we are wiping our butts with what amounts to a handful of dust, really.  Unless she was sanding something, I don't know why she would steal it.
Other people called and said the usual junk...pens...staplers...rubber bands...
At first, we discussed similar, petty items.  But then we were doing some quick math on the ratio of Trent's soul sucked dry to the number of staples he'd have to take and it just wasn't worth the bulk.
We had to go for the big guns.
Office chair?
Perhaps.
Photocopier?
Getting better.  I heard that the one that we have at work- the one that I am certain has a mind of its own and chuckles as it chews up and spits out every job I give it- cost us over a hundred thousand dollars.  A HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!  We could hire a team of monks to transcribe our documents for less than that.  And I bet we'd have better karma.
Office chair with photocopier perched atop?
Yes, yes, we are getting warmer...
Boss' aquarium, I suggested.
Just the fish!  Trent counters.
And thus was born:

Operation Fish Be Mine

Really, the funniest part of the whole plan is Trent's explanation when he's caught stealing the fish:

Boss: What the hell are you doing?

Trent (caught fish-handed, so to speak): These are my fish.

Boss: You just took them from my tank.

Trent: You can't prove these fish aren't mine!!!

Boss: I have a receipt (reaches into desk) right here.

Trent: (snatches receipt) You mean I have a receipt!  (bolts for the door)

FISH BE MINE!!!  WAAA HA HA HA HA HA!!!  (that's maniacal, if you didn't know)

Moral of this story: If Trent manages to get "his" fish "back", I have a great plan for them.

What's in a Name? Funny.

Bob and I have talked about having kids.  We're pretty sure that we will, some day.  My grandmother thinks it should be tomorrow, or that by some miracle of conception I should already be pregnant.  I figure it'll be a few more years; we have things we want to do that aren't super kid-friendly, such as not give birth.  But, we also figure that we owe it to humanity to reproduce and try and balance out the jerks of the world with our undoubtedly awesome offspring.
It's a bit of a scary thing, thinking about playing genetic lottery and having kids.  We are both aware that our kids could go either way, really; they could have it all, or they could be total duds.  We've got good and bad in our genetic pool...

Kid A: The Lucky One

Also, a Radiohead album.  But that has nothing to do with this.

1. Above-average in height, but not freakishly tall.  Bob is pretty tall but not a giant, and I am average.  So our kid could be a bit above average and would not have to hem his/her pants or ask tall people to reach the top shelf in Superstore.

2. Reasonably good-looking.  Perhaps I am biased, but I think that my parents are decent looking people, and so are Bob's parents, and so are we.  None of us are models, but maybe we could be part-time models, even though we'd probably have to keep our regular jobs.  But our kid could be good-looking, there's a good mix of colouration and descent in there to make up a nice-looking person.

3. Pretty good at sports.  Bob's Dad was a very good baseball player.  I'm a decent soccer player.  My Dad was a bit of a track star.  Our moms...are hopeless.  As are our siblings.  But if we're lucky, our kid could be pretty good at sports.

4. Dang smart.  This is where our kid could really shine.  Bob's smart, I'm smart, our parents are smart, my brothers are smart.  Everyone's done at least one University degree, a bunch of us have two.  I understand that these days that might not be a really incredible achievement, but I'd like to think that given our track record, our kid could be highly intelligent.

5. Socially aware.  We have friends.  Our families have friends.  There is a reasonable level of social awkwardness amongst us, but not so much that we can't overcome it, and hopefully our kid wouldn't get a crazy amount of it and will actually be able to interact with other humans.

Kid B: The Less Lucky One

This scenario...might actually be more likely.  Poor kid.

1. Totally freaking blind.  Bob wears glasses.  I wear glasses.  Our siblings wear glasses.  Our parents wear glasses.  The chances of our kid being able to see past his own nose is pretty slim.

2. Short and fat.  Both our moms are short.  Both our families have tendencies to carry extra weight, although not tons.  But with the right/wrong genetic mix, our kid will look like Cartman.

3. Ugmo.  I'm thinking this would not make for a very attractive person: Bob's freckles, my darker skin, Bob's hairy arms and legs, my double-chin, the bigger nose, the smaller mouth, close-set eyes with big bags under them, bad teeth.  It could all happen.  Plus a bunch of other stuff I don't even know about, I'm sure.

4. Physically incapable of even walking and chewing gum.  To be frank, we'll probably NOT have a sports-star kid.  Probably the opposite.  I'm anticipating beaning the kid in the head with many a ball trying to teach them sports.

5. El Stupido.  We both come from families of wiseasses, both of which have some learning disabilities thrown in the mix.  I can hardly imagine the worst-case scenario for us...a smart-aleck dummy, who always thinks he's right but NEVER NEVER is.  Arrrgh.

 

...but I digress.  This episode was not intended to focus on what our kids might or might not be like.

Instead, I wanted to talk about naming those kids.

It's a terrible power that parents have over their children, deciding what their names will be.  I've met a number of people who have totally inappropriate names.  I sometimes take the liberty of assigning a new name to those people.  It's not usually on purpose.  It's usually because I forget their real names and just make up new ones that seem to fit.

My father works with children and has told stories of hilarious names he comes across.  One time he met a kid of two flowery, ridiculous hippy-leftovers who had named her "Rhythm Sha Na Na" or something like that.  Another couple had not named their child, instead allowing her to name HERSELF when she was old enough to talk.  The result?  Some poor schmuck will be called "Princess Baby" for the rest of her life, and she has no one to blame but herself...in a way.  I figure it happened because she was 2 years old, for pete's sake, and had been referred to as "Baby" up until that point.  It's a good thing she was into princesses at that point in her life and not shrimp or dogs or crocodiles.

Bob and I talked a bit about serious names for our kids.  He likes "Sophia" a lot for a girl, as she is the goddess of wisdom, but my cousins named their daughter Sophia.  I can't remember what other names we discussed.

I DO remember the funny ones.

I feel like this might not be an appropriate opportunity for comedic follow-through, but check back in five years and see if I have kids named the following:

1. For a first-born boy: Optimus Prime.  Self-explanatory.

2. Jesus.  It's funny because Spanish kids are named Jesus, and it's pronounced "Hey-Zoos".  So when teachers call out his name, they'll probably say "Hey-Zoos?" and he'll say "It's pronounced 'Jesus'.  It's biblical."  He he he.

3. One already taken, and maybe not intended to be funny: Blandon.  This was on the nametag of the kid who served me at the grocery store the other day.  I think I made him nervous because I kept staring at it, wondering what would possess people to name him that.  He was Asian...is it simply the Asian spelling of "Brandon", allowing for the Asian pronunciation?  Or is it a reflection of his personality?  Either way, amazing.

I'm sure I could think of a bunch of other hilarious names to inflict on my offspring, but that's all for now.  In all honesty, I plan on being very thoughtful and careful about what I name my kids.  I wonder if people named "Mitzi" and "Brandi" have a different go of things than people named "Bertha" or "Olga" and if their lives are unlike those named "Jeeves" and "Hubert".

We're lucky- Heather is a decent name; Bob has the power of the old man behind his name.  Hopefully we can grace our children with the same luck...if I can reign in my desire to be hilarious.

Moral of this story: The doctor says your nosebleeds will stop if you keep your fingers out of there!

I'll Take That Bet? Funny.

Competition is a natural thing.  From an early age, people "double dog dare" each other to do difficult, dangerous or hilarious things.  I'm not sure what "double dog" has to do with anything, and I'm pretty sure that dogs do not in fact dare each other to do anything, but I know that when a double dog dare is doled out, it's serious business.
As were the 100 baht bets of my Bangkok days.
It all started on a trip to hedonism island, also known as Ko Samet.  Actually, pretty much any island in Thailand can earn the title of Hedonism Island.  A few bucks and a lack of self control can turn any place in Thailand into a hedonistic paradise.
Anyway, we went down to Ko Samet and promptly drank ourselves into oblivion, as one is wont to do when drinking alcohol of unknown strength from buckets.  One of the bartenders at the bar there was relatively attractive; at least, that's what our bucket goggles would suggest.
A colleague and I struck up a bet- who could get the bartender to kiss them first?
My game plan was something like this: completely forget the bet and carry on with my night.  I was a whirling dervish of tomfoolery and had no time for concentrating on such nonsense.
Steph, on the other hand, had the eye of the tiger and won that very first bet with photo evidence of her kissing the bartender.  I passed her the inaugural 100 baht bill without knowing that we had begun a journey of wagering that would take us all over South East Asia.
A side note.  For those of you who aren't aware, 100 baht is about 3 bucks, or was when we were in Thailand.  It's not a lot of money.  No, we weren't in this for the money...we were in it for the glory.

THE RULES: Only the person currently holding the 100 baht can propose a bet.  It cannot be so completely ridiculous that no one will be able to complete it- it has to be feasible.  It should be legal.  It shouldn't be so dangerous as to prove deadly.  That sort of thing.

 

100 Baht Says You Won't...

1. Stick your hand down that hole to the elbow.  The sewage system in Thailand is different than in Canada.  Generally speaking, the drains are open rather than covered with grates, and they are probably deeper, given that when it rains, it basically pours sideways until the streets are completely flooded with knee-deep water.  All manner of creatures come out of those drains.  Frogs, cockroaches, rats...there are rumors (probably true) that the sewer system in Bangkok is infested with crocodiles let loose by irresponsible jerks who bought little ones at the market and then discovered that a 10 foot croc doesn't make for a great bath time pal.  I attempted this bet but retreated from those black depths when my finger touched...something.

2. Get into that car covered in vines.  We were on a road trip and went to some picturesque lookout.  Someone else had gone, too, but abandoned their car.  It had been completely engulfed in greenery (which almost definitely concealed about a billion different bugs).  I have a picture of Steph in the car.  100 baht well won.

3. Dance with the Ajarn.  The Ajarn is the boss of the school- the guy who started the school with his brother and two sisters.  The big cheese, the head dude.  I drank a tower of beer as tall as me and danced with him, which not only earned me a 100 baht but made me his favorite.  I can't say if it was because he thought I was a good dancer or thought it was funny.

4. Eat the soup that moves of its own accord.  On another road trip, we stopped at a small town and had lunch.  Well, only a few of us ate, because there were only two things on the menu- stir fried mixed vegetables, or some kind of spicy soup.  About half ordered vegetables, about half the soup.  Those of us with the soup discovered that it was not just spicy, but unearthly SPICY.  The soup was so hot, it was trying to escape itself, and was moving around in the bowl.  Seriously.  It swirled without us doing anything.  Everyone tried a bite, and confirmed that even the soup thought it was too spicy.  No one won this bet.  I'm pretty sure that someone working at the restaurant won a bet in the back, though.

5. Eat some other gross thing.  We had lots of eating bets.  Bugs.  Street meat.  Mystery snacks.  I actually never ate a bug- on purpose- in Thailand.  I did accidentally eat a chicken butt.  Not good.

6. Eat a candle.  This was the beginning of the end of the bets.  A new guy came towards the end of my year there who seemed awesome but then turned out to be completely insane.  He tried to get on board with the 100 baht bets, which had been a solid game for months, and took it to a level where it was just weird.  He took a candle while we were out at a restaurant and bet us that he couldn't eat it.

A side note.  What the hell is it with boys and eating candles??

First of all, he didn't have the 100 baht, so he couldn't propose the bet.  Second, it was never a "Bet I can't" thing.  It was "Do this thing and I'll give you the 100 baht".  Third, don't eat a candle!!  What the hell.

...but he did.

I can't think of the hundreds of other bets we had offhand.  Touch this gross bug.  Talk to that weird guy.  Wear this ugly thing.  Take a picture with that hilarious whatever.  But this candle-eating business was the end of it- he ate the candle, despite our protests and total lack of interest in his candle-eating prowess, and we reluctantly handed over the well-traveled, never spent and always enjoyed 100 baht bill.

...it was a sad day.

We don't have a three dollar bill in Canada (and why not??  I ask you.), but we do have a five dollar bill, and I might just get this going again.  Five bucks says you won't... it has a nice ring to it.

Moral of this story: Who has five bucks they can lend me?  I have a game I want to play.