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.

Out-awkwarding the awkward? Funny.

Stop me if you've heard this one before...isn't it appropriate that the word "awkward" is so awkwardly spelled?

Awkward humor is nothing new, although I think that of late, it has become more popular.  "The Office", "Mr. D.", "Arrested Development"...these shows make good use of the awkward moment.

Kids at school say "That awkward moment when (fill in the blank)."
I think it quotes some internet thing.  Those kids, they're always on the internet.

(the following is an actual exchange from actual people at actual school)
"That awkward moment when you see your teacher at Comic Expo."
"You're the one who is awkward!!!  I was totally awesome!!!"
"Right.  Nice Ash costume."

...it WAS nice.  If you want evidence, simply review the older posts until you find the one featuring the greatest Ash costume of all time.

A lot of my friends are very awkward, some in more hilarious ways than others.  I have some friends who are of the uncomfortable awkward sort- it's not particularly funny the way that they are awkward, more it is horrifying and makes everyone squirm.  Perhaps our comedic evolution just isn't ready for their particular brand of awkward.

Mostly, though, my friends are the sort of awkward that makes others laugh, usually because they are being awkward on purpose to make others laugh.
I appreciate this very much because:
1. I love it when people try to make other people laugh, as long as it follows my rules of comedic follow-through (with the exception of the expense rule- if they are wealthy, go ahead and spend your dolla dolla bills on my entertainment).
2. It masks those of us with regular, dysfunctional awkward and makes it seem like we, too, are being funny.  I have to get a bit better at not doing shifty eyes and saying "Yesss....I was being...funnyyyy..." after an awkward moment that people think was actually an attempt at humor.

A friend told me a story today about making awkward jokes (and I concur- they were AWKWARD) to a colleague, who responded in a MUCH more awkward manner than anticipated.

We pondered- was this person being rude, snobby...or simply taking the awkward funny to a new level??

To out-awkward the awkward, one must master the following steps.

Heather's Guide to Upping the Awkward Ante

1. First, ensure that you are not going to completely embarrass some poor, uncomfortable person who is not intending to be funny.  You must have a precise target- the awkward jokester.

2. You MUST practice your poker face.  Delivering awkward lines demands a straight face.  This is what keeps 'em guessing.  "Is she joking?  Or is she really that weird???"

3. You must have excellent comedic timing.  Or not, now that I think about it.  A well-delivered, quick quip might at first seem like the most hilarious response to initial awkwardness.  But perhaps this is too clever.  Perhaps it is actually WAY more funny to deliver your response at increasingly inopportune moments.  Don't wait too long that you have to explain...but allowing for a moment for people's attention to wander, then BAM!  Awkward punch to the face!!!

 Note.  Do not punch people in the face.  That was a metaphor, or something.

4. Apply physical humor as much as possible.  Part of people being really damn funny has to do with their physical presence.  It could be that the person gestures a lot.  It could be that they gesture very little.  It really depends on the situation...but I think a good rule of thumb is that you should really follow your heart on this one.  Does your heart say "Stand perfectly still.  Don't...move...a...muscle.", or does it say "Point aggressively with your finger!  HARDER!!  POINT POINT POINT!!!". 

I like that one does not have to be "cool" to be funny.  In fact, it almost seems the opposite.

Moral of this story: I am accepting all dolla dolla bills for my entertainment fund.

Talk the talk? Funny.

Everyone assumes that they way that they talk is "normal"; that other people in other nations have "accents".  It's basically impossible to say that any one way of speaking is the "normal" or "original" way, but certainly we can all concede that not everyone pronounces words the same.

There are some accents that are more recognizable than others.
There are also some that are WAY funnier than others.
Funny accents include, but are not limited to:
1. Cockney British.  "Allo govna!  Blimey, me arse is sore!"
2. Backwoods American.  To be accompanied with banjo twangs.  "Y'all want me ta cook up some squirrel??"
3. Asian Grandma.  "You too skinny!  Eat!  Eeeeeaaaaatttt!  Why you spend money???"
4. Any accent Bob does ever.  They usually turn into a sort of Japanese-Mario hybrid.  If you haven't watched "I Love You Man", you really should.  It's really, really, really damn funny.  And if you have seen it, and you don't think it's funny, we probably should never meet, because you'll hate everything I say at all times.  In "I Love You Man" there is a scene where the main character is trying to do a Jamaican accent.  "Slappin' the bass!  Yeah man!".  It's hilarious.  His (the guy in the movie) accents always turn into weird Leprechaun.  Bob- Japanese Mario.  No matter what he was trying to do.

I feel like- and I am embarrassed to admit this- that I am the kind of person who goes to another country and immediately adopts the local way of speaking.  I think I even do this when speaking with someone with an accent.  There was an episode of "Fresh Prince" where the dad has British colleagues, and he keeps picking up their accent and saying doofus stuff like "Pip pip cheerio" and whatnot.  This episode was particularly hilarious because Geoffrey, their butler, was British, and spoke in a British accent...but Phillip managed to not pick up that accent....  Anyway, I hope that I don't do that, but I probably do.

I am also not very good at producing accents.  Even though I laugh at Bob's total inability to do an accurate accent, I suffer from the same problem.  Everything degenerates to Asian Grandma Mario.  Or something like that.

 

There are also ways of speaking from different eras.  I am enamored with the 1920's newsroom "accent". 
"Listen, Charlie, if ya don't get that dame on the up and up, I'm gonna ring your head like a Chinese gong, capiche?"
"Well it's two bits on the dollar for ya, see, and no funny business."

There already exists "International Talk Like A Pirate Day".  This is a funny concept to me, and generally easily executed for the average person.  Most people can do pirate, even if their pirates sound more like Mario than others.
I propose that we introduce more accented days.  Or, at least, people accent their voices to fit the theme of the day.
After all, we dress up...we eat themed food...we listen to themed music...let's go one step further and get right into character.

Moral of this story: I'm going to have to research some events that call for Japanese and Asian Grandma Marios.

Movin' Like Bernie? Funny.

When I was a kid, there were a few dances that caught on and people learned.  The Macarena, for one.  At junior high dances, for some reason, we all danced with this sort of stirring motion of our hands, while twisting our hips in the other direction.  I don't know why.  If you are a child of the 80s, you know what I'm talking about...and if you don't, think of Monica's bad dance on Friends.  It was like that.
The early to mid 90s were a time of the "choreographed dance" movie, too.  "She's All That" featured a high school graduation where, for some reason, all the kids had learned a dance and everyone did it at the same time.
That seemed sort of weird, but also strangely compelling.  I remember being on grad committee and a lot of the members were convinced that we were going to perform a great dance routine...we even had ballroom dance instructors come in and teach us a bunch of stuff that none of us ever did again.  It was super awkward, in a time when we were at our utmost level of awkwardness, but it was actually sort of fun, and I remember dancing with my friend Andrew and both of us thinking it was rad.
Anyway, that whole "let's all learn a dance and fuss over each other while we do it" thing still exists.  Now kids are learned such classics as "The Bernie" and "Cat Daddy".
I've taken it upon myself to learn both these 'dances'.
And so can you!

The Bernie

You know "Weekend At Bernie's"?  Where Bernie is dead, but they have to make it seem like he's alive, so they can keep on partying?

Well, there is now a 'dance' based on him.  It's not so much a dance as it is a way of moving around.  You should watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcuLSw5aS-8&noredirect=1

It's pretty funny.  The part where he goes through checkout is my favorite.

So, one of my kids comes in and is walking all weird, and I'm like "Limbo craze?" and they're like "No.  Watch this video."

So I did, and the next class, I moved like Bernie, and was a hit.  

A lot of people get really mad at kids.  They think they're annoying.  Especially when they are being loud and laughing about something.

If the laughter of children bothers you, and makes you enraged, you should really review your values.

I may spend a day moving like Bernie.  If I ever have to buy nerf guns, I really hope I remember.

The Cat Daddy

I was told by a group of students (who had witnessed my amazing Bernie) that I should learn the "Cat Daddy", to impress my husband.  Now, I know that Bob is already blown away by my superior dance moves, so he needs no more impressing.  However, I was intrigued.  What dance could possibly be so amazing that it would impress?  How could it possibly be better than the Bernie (which, if you don't already know, and you didn't bother watching the video, consists of leaning backwards, allowing your arms to go limp, and basically going about your daily business)?

Could there BE a more complex, intricate dance???

I grew up in the age of the MACARENA, people!  THE ACHY BREAKY HEART!  How could this "Cat Daddy" IMPRESS???

Well, I looked it up when I got home, and I was first met with these results:

 Which made me think that they were playing a trick on me.

As it turns out, the young lady in the picture and the videos is someone named Kate Upton, who partook in the "Cat Daddy" while shooting for Maxim or Sports Illustrated or some other soft core magazine, and that kinda sorta creepy older dude in the shot is the photographer.

So I looked for the original "Cat Daddyers", or whatever you would call them, since I figured- "If Kate UPTON is doing it, it MUST be awesome!!!".  I neglected to actually watch her video.

I found this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BZGgf4BtVY

If you again skip the video, which I understand- you have enough time to read my blather, but not enough to watch some random youtube junk, that's good, your priorities are right where I want them- I can sum up the Cat Daddy for you.

The Cat Daddy In A Nutshell

1. It has nothing to do with cats.

2. It has nothing to do with Daddies.

3. It is only slightly more complicated than the Bernie.

4. The stuff that passes for dancing these days is...just about as abysmal as in my day.

Basically, you gesture down and across in front of your body with your left arm.  Then with your right.  Then you do a "wheelchair" motion with both, twice.  Then you repeat, but alternate the arms.

All together now!

Left arm right arm wheelchair wheelchair

Right arm left arm wheelchair wheelchair

Etcetera.

In the video, the talented young gentlemen who are demonstrating this latest craze suggest some ways of improving your "Cat Daddy" and making it more interesting.  I was pretty sold on the basic moves, being so elaborate as they are, but I dig that you can freestyle the shit outta this dance.  Examples: bend your knees while wheelchairing!  You appear more physically disabled.  Twist while wheelchairing!  It's like you're turning your chair.  Throw some kicks in there!  People will be stunned that even though you APPEAR to be in a wheelchair, you are able to use your legs!!!  It's a dance miracle.

But enough about the learning process.  More importantly, I DID learn the Cat Daddy, and when asked if I had looked it up, I simply replied with a stunning five-second display of slam-dunk Cat Daddy that had the crowd on their feet.  Well, they were already standing, but basically, I rocked their worlds.

I brought it out again at the grad dance.  It was amazing.

The point I'm trying to make is that sometimes, it's very funny to learn some silly "skill" just to amuse others.  For me, it's been some very difficult coordinated dance moves.  For you, it could be to play the slide whistle, or to juggle squid, or to speak Latin.  Whatever it is, go out there and figure it out and impress your friends and family!!

Moral of this story: Who wants to go buy some nerf guns?

Playing with your food? Funny.

I love food.  I teach Foods class, which has challenged me to come up with recipes that teenagers will actually eat and can make in less than an hour.  I cook at home, and have a group of friends who get together every couple months to enjoy some kind of themed meal.  I am not terribly picky, although I do have a couple rules: Bob would describe one as “Don’t eat anything cute” (lamb, veal, other baby animals, game meats, beef); I would describe the other as “Don’t eat anything disgusting” (bugs.  Or garbage parts.).

I like eating at home but of course I also like eating at restaurants.  I am getting choosier about which meals I am willing to pay for, because of the incredible inflation of prices at restaurants and the decrease in quality of service in Calgary, but there are still places I like to go and when I travel, I eat at restaurants all the time.

Trent and I go out to eat a lot, and we are both fairly adventurous when it comes to food.  We’ve made up two games to play at restaurants.

ScaryFoody

(like scareoke, only less singing)

When you go to restaurants that serve “cultural cuisine”, sometimes you get menus that are printed with poor English, or no English, or only pictures.  To play this game, you have to go to a restaurant with no English menu available, and no pictures for the items on the menu.

If they try to give you a menu in English, insist that you are fine.  If you can do a bit of research ahead of time and figure out the phrase for “No thank you” in the local lingo, all the better.

Then, you choose at random.

At least three items, if you can afford it.

And then you eat!!!

This is best done at a place like a Chinese restaurant.  The Asians are notorious for serving the garbage parts of animals and trying to pass them off as “specialties”.  Chicken feet.  Tripe.  Eyeballs.  Fermented anything.  Gross.  So, if you get to a Chinese restaurant that only has a Chinese menu, you know that you’re going to get the best of the gelatinous, the most garbage-y of the parts, the slimiest of the slime.

ENJOY!

Variations:

1.Order for each other.  Can be played with an English menu.

2. Combine with the following game…

Foods in Other Foods

“Garcon?  Oh, garcon?  Please bring me your most expensive food, served in your largest food.  Yes, that’s right.  No, I don’t care what those foods are, you oaf, just bring me my dish!”

To play- don’t look at the menu.  It doesn’t work if you know what the foods are.  It won’t be nearly as funny.

You have to order one food, served within another food.  Hopefully they have something large enough on the menu to contain another dish they serve.

We got this idea from regular foods served in other foods- soup or chili in a bread bowl, drinks in coconuts, salad or rice served in a pineapple.

Why aren’t more foods served in other foods?  Since people don’t seem to be getting on board with this concept, simply get restaurants to do it for you.  Perhaps, after seeing the innovation of your lovely creation, they will start to serve it to everyone.

And finally, an anecdote to up the funny factor…

In an entry about playing with food, I feel that I have to include this story.  I mentioned before that I’m a Foods teacher, which is both a blessing and a curse.  It’s a curse in that I have to deal with junior high kids and their shenanigans all day.  It’s a blessing in that…I have a job.  I’m being a bit facetious- there are other perks to the job, none of which come to mind because I’m at the job right now…

For junior high boys, everything is about penises.  You know that scene in Superbad, where Jonah Hill confesses that in grade school, he was sent to counseling because he drew dicks all over everything?  It’s not unusual.  In fact, the boy NOT drawing dicks all over everything is the exception.  He’s the one that needs therapy- he’s not thinking about enough dicks.

I’ve learned a few lessons over the years- like, never make anything called “balls”.  Popcorn balls.  Meat balls.  Snowballs.  Balls is a word to be avoided.

I was surprised when “schnitzel” drew only one snicker.

However, I cannot avoid doing at least one lab with dough.  Kids love cookies and it’s important, I think, to teach them how to measure and mix and bake. 

This leads to Phallic Cookies.

You know how I know you’re gay?

Because you make dick cookies.

You know how I know you’re gay?

Because you are eating a dick RIGHT NOW.

Apparently, in the homophobic world of junior high, making, cooking, holding and lovingly eating while saying “mmmmm” a big plate of penis-shaped cookies is NOT gay.  It’s expected.

So I have yet another group of boys, forming cookies.  I notice they are not going for the standard cookie shape…and I comment “Oh how nice, you’re making heart cookies!”

Snicker snicker snicker “Yeeeahhhhh, HEART cookies!” snicker snicker.

Apparently, those heart-shaped cookies are NOT hearts but are actually very poorly rendered penises.  As usual.

So, I, in my infinite wisdom as a teacher and professional, think “I will embarrass them.”

I get out my camera and start taking pictures and tell them I’ll put them in the yearbook and everyone will see them holding their cookies.

Apparently, this is not embarrassing.  Alas.

Those pictures made it into my master file, which I eventually made available to my colleague, who was putting together the slide show for the Celebration Assembly.

This assembly was supposed to be a feature of the best academics of the term.

There were a grand total of THREE pictures included of Foods.

I gave her a file with maybe 700 pictures in it.

Which three pictures are featured, the size of a gymnasium wall, in front of 600 people?

DICK COOKIES!!!

I’m the greatest teacher of all time.

Moral of this story: If you are what you eat, I’m not eating those damned garbage parts...and most teenaged boys are dicks.