Davezilla: Clean Humor, Filthy Comments

(Apologies if your RSS feeds got a post that isn’t there. It’s on the redesign site, which is now 99% done and working, so if you’re testing the new site, it’s there.) We now return you to your regularly scheduled humor.

Longtime readers know that the every year I post my resolutions and ask for yours. I like to make mine easily achievable. You know, aim low and finish the year having achieved all of them.

1. I resolve not to smear jelly on the face of my enemies.
2. I resolve not to run naked through the office when I don’t get my way. Anymore.
3. I resolve not to commit acts of genocide. Unless an island of spammers is found, in which case it’s open season!
4. I resolve not to run out of coffee.
5. I resolve not to be caught whistling Dixie. Ever.
6. I resolve to remember the Alamo.
7. I resolve not to break into song and dance during client meetings.
8. I resolve not to turn into a flying dolphin with heat-vision, seeking to steal the souls of those I deem unworthy to live.
9. I resolve not to kick my own ass.
10. What are your resolutions?

After the chair debacle, Liz and I sat down in chairs from polite persons of less than great intelligence. An hour or so later, we saw someone else approach the rude genius from Channel 4. A portly woman, dressed rather like a peasant or Renaissance Festival employee. Being somewhat large, she was possessed of—to put it bluntly—a large rack. This is important to note for later on.

She carried on a long conversation with the genius and we rightfully ignored them. Suddenly Liz poked me. “Look at the freak couple. Now.” I turned to see the left breast of the woman had escaped its confines, seemingly unbeknownst to her. His eyes, however, were transfixed on the sidestepping sweater kitten. From the size of his pupils, which we could see from 3 meters away, it was clear he had never seen a bare breast before.

A draft from the door or the genius’ heat vision finally prompted the pendulous peasant to her situation and she quickly adjusted herself (she had a wraparound top). Liz and I sat in shock, trying to determine how anyone could not notice that their breast had gone on holiday. Not five minutes later, it happened again. And again. We tried to figure out the odds (and physics) of three wardrobe malfunctions within five minutes. We were unsuccessful.

What are your theories?

I really need to take a camera with me every time I have coffee with my friend Liz. We see the best freaks. Tonight topped them. Ever go to a coffeehouse, it’s really crowded so you find an empty table with not enough chairs? Then you hunt around to see if anyone isn’t using all the chairs at their table? Well that.

So we got our drinks and Liz found a great table with no chairs. I spy a man sitting alone with an ancient, underpowered Mac laptop and walk over.

Me: “Excuse me, sir. Is it cool if I steal this chair?”
Him: “First of all, you need to learn that when you approach someone of great intelligence, deep in thought, such as myself, you need to slowly bring them back from their advanced thinking state before posing such an asinine question.”
Me: “Uh, OK. I’m sorry, may I please borrow this chair?”

So behind him is my friend Alfred, who stands up and says, “Take my chair, Dave.”
Me: “Thank you Alfred. That was very kind of you.”
Alfred: “No problem, Dave. It’s what any polite person would do.”

So then the freak starts in on me again.

Him: “And furthermore, if you would notice—” I wasn’t having any more of him.
Me: “I don’t care, asshole. There’s a good reason you’re sitting alone.”

Part II, tomorrow

I would like super powers. Nothing too fancy, mind you. Just minor abilities to get me through the week.

1. The ability to see through chocolates to the fillings before taking a bite
2. The ability to sense road construction in time to catch an alternate route
3. The ability to psychically detect which cashier is the fastest and least likely to call for a price check
4. The ability to see through scratch-off tickets before purchasing them
5. The ability to remove rusted, old screws without stripping the threading
6. A magic bag that always contains the right size batteries for any appliance
7. The ability to send all the snow that was destined for my driveway to my neighbor’s
8. The ability to make coworkers I dislike late to all their meetings during performance review week
9. The ability to accurately predict when public transportation will actually show up
10. What abilities would you like this year?

See Part I here