A collection of retrospective humor vignettes designed to enhance immune systems everywhere -- (particularly the one inside my spousal unit).
"There's nothing happening now that I haven't already experienced, thoughtfully considered, then made fun of." -- CGiven
There are many theories about the end of the world.
My favorite is that on December 21, 2012, in less than two hours, the numerical anagram 12-21-12 will be chiseled via
diamond-blade onto a quartz crystal that, once placed atop the pyramidion of
Gaza’s Khufu Pyramid, will convert moonlight into a beam that holds the
intensity oftwo suns, which will
SHOOT from that summit and travel ‘round the wo—
Sorry… I can’t stop laughing because I just made that up.
What will actually happen tomorrow is that a great
confluence of bad predictions will conjoin in what the heroine, Aughra, from The Dark Crystal called, The Great
It’s a Planetary Conjoining ofHuman Consciousness, subdued deeply by vodka served at Apocalypse
Raves tonight. The Great Conjunction is a global hangover.
There’s aboutas much science involved in tomorrow’s End Of Times as there is
in any socio-cultural prediction. These
pseudo-sciences and their ‘allegations’ are so soft, they never develop
sufficiently where you can touch their fontanels.
I say this as the mother of two psych-majors, and as a
right: my undergrad work was in English Lit, but I was an English/Sociology
Double Major.This makes my own
fontanel twice as soft, which is why I wear a helmet to bed.
Back when I was an ambitious sociology major, I believed in research statistics and was eager to test my own theories.At the time, I was interested in two
things that befuddled me: religion and sex.
There had already been an abundance of socio-cultural research
on both topics separately, so I fashioned A Great Conjunction:I combined the two with the following
premise: empirical research will explain, socio-culturally, why there
exists a range of sexual noise-making practices among people of different religions.
I undertook a very Sociological Empirical Survey Gala
Full of Research Methods Whose Results Could Be Repeated in a Double Blind,
Three Blind Mice Study in which I sat at K-Mart for an hour and asked strangers
four ingeniously crafted questions which in no way revealed the purpose of my
1.Are you a stranger?
2.Do you have sex?
3.When you have sex, do you make noise?
4.What religion are you?
The results were remarkable.First, I discovered there were two religions: Protestant and Catholic.
The Protestants were the ones who revolted against the
guilt, dogma, and oppression imposed upon them by the Catholics.
Catholics were the ones who revolted against the Protestants
by declaring them heretics and forbade the saints to have anything to do with
them.Then they set about the
business of oppressing and making guilty all the Catholics who were too busy
praying to revolt and who believed an impure thought would turn them into
Historical support thus established, I shall reveal my
Protestants do not have sex, except maybe once a year, and
then they do not make noise. They close their eyes, hold their breath and wait until
it is over.
Catholics have sex more often, whistling and shouting and
calling by name every major league baseball player since Cro-Magnon Man first
hefted a club which, in cave man days, served as the first rudimentary bat and
their wives were the first ball.
Catholics educated in parochial schools will, by age 30, do
such damage to their vocal cords, they must rely on party honkers, cymbals and
instruments become routine, they move on to the woodwind family.
I realize some people might be offended by these
findings.They might consider them
biased, shocking, or blatant, filthy lies.
Therefore I will present my data, with permission
from the Journal of Cultural Noise-Making who agreed to publish
my results based on me asking them to:
Survey Results:K-Mart, 1994
Number One:Beatrice Langston
Braxton Hicks, Duchess of the Duke of Davenport
Address:1 Country Squire Windsor Court, East Font-La-Roy,
Sex:“How dare you?”
Number Two:Mary Mae O’Deli
Address:Apartment 1 Atop the Fifth Avenue Bar,
The Bronx, New York
Question 1:Are you a stranger? Mae: Yes I am.
no autographs. I’m only here to inspire the homeless.
Question 2: Do
you have sex?
Beatrice:My bodyguards must strike you.
Question 3: Do
you make noise when you have sex? Mae:Yes. I whistle and shout and call out the names of every
major league . . .
Beatrice:Boris, come and crush her.
Question 4: What
religion are you?
Mae: I am a
devout Irish Polish Roman Catholic Italian and I never have sex with
Protestants because they were banned by the Pope and they can’t hear the saints
shout at them while they are having sex once a year with their eyes closed
holding their breath.
Beatrice:My attorney must witness your death.
Thank you for
participating.Would you like a
copy of the survey results?
Mae: You’re welcome and I’d love a copy.Especially of Beatrice’s anonymous responses.
Beatrice:Officer.Read it its rights.
The point is this:there once was a sociological theory called Naturalism, which was converted to a literary style, but only after it had become an 'Age' debated by history departments.But it meant that you can’t
escape your environment and people can’t be held accountable for Merton’s
Theory of Relativity.
Which means that even if Protestants try to make noise, they
will only gurgle and their partner will think they’ve gone into cardiac arrest
and the mood will be shot for the year.And if the Mayans are correct, this ‘Year’ ends in another hour -- so
your only choice is to convert.Right now.
If, however, by some unprecedented fluke, the Mayan “theory” is as dependable as my sociological work, have a GLORIOUS day tomorrow.
And remember:regardless whether you celebrate Chaunkah at Temple, Christmas at St. Jerome’s, or for us
Congregationalists, Christmas-Pong at the Bar, know that we are all equal in
God’s eyes, so Make A Joyful Noise Unto The Lord.
Please join me this day, December 20th, in celebrating my blog’s one-month
For those of you who have real children, do you recall how
you counted your newborn’s age?At
first it was in hours. An infant’s age can be tracked in nano-metric time this way.In temporal micrometers.You can see this in baby-book captions.
“Above: Little Farthquar at 10 Seconds Old!(no, that’s not his umbilical cord.
Go Baby Farty!)”“Baby Farthquar
at ELEVEN HOURS!” “HOUR 24: Going home from the hospital!”
And so it goes, page after relentless baby-book
page, until you reach the finish-line where you learn that, after 175 pages, Farthquar
coincidentally reached his 175th hour.
Well, it’s like that with my blog. (Only it is 700 hours old, thank you.)
Yes. Today my blog is a man, according to the ancient tradition of My People (the group from Protestant Bible Debate). But according to even ancient-er traditions handed down from The Mayans, today is the last functional day of the world. The end is nigh*.
(*nigh = 'tomorrow'in Mayan)
This impels me to make the most critical decision of my 54
Do I blog about bowel incontinence?
Or making noise during sex?
Seriously, if I were assured that tomorrow, Life As We Know It [On The Internet] Ends,I might as well blog about
something I find funny and not worry about offending anyone.
(I know this sounds like 'magical thinking.' Because it is. Instead of being sad the world ends tomorrow, I will
be sad when it doesn’t.)
Are you ready? --Flipping a coin--
The noise-making treatise wins.
I will go prepare this for you now.God knows I’m not going out to buy green bananas or recycle plastic today.