Category: Funny

This gets my vote for all-time worst statistic:

So, I was having a discussion with my (male) friend, Ashley, yesterday. We were boasting about our respective Azalea bushes.

Me: My Azalea bush kicks your ass! It’s a fuckin’ 20 year old beast. There is no way you have better Azaleas.
Ashley: We’ll just see about that. I’ve got 5 in my yard that just kick total ass!
Me: No way, man. You’re dreaming. I’ve got you beat.
Ashley: My Azaleas are so kick ass, I’ve got 15 women outside my house, protesting.

When I got home from work last night, I had had enough. The beard was coming off. I’ve had a beard since late November and, while I always enjoy the bearded months, they must always come to an end. It has started to seem more spring-like in Atlanta recently, so I figured the winter beard was not long for this world. Last night it was time.

The wife was out running errands, so I put the trash can in the sink in the bathroom and started trimming. It took a while, but alas I was triumphant. It felt really good to have nothing on my chin and especially good to no longer have the mustache (staches always bug me the most about having a beard).

As I took the dogs for a walk with my newly liberated face, it felt cooler than usual–no more insulating hair to keep my chin toasty warm. When I caught a glimpse of myself in car windows, I had to do a double take. My chin looked pointier and my face too white.

The wife got home and started telling me about her day. We were talking for about 10 minutes when I finally blurted out, “didn’t you notice I shaved?” She freaked out; “oh my god, no, I didn’t!” This happened last time I had a beard. It’s weird how people who are closest to you don’t seem to notice sudden changes in hairstyles or facial hair. I hadn’t noticed her hair had been chopped off by half about 2 months ago either.

We went out to have dinner with my mom and then to see my sister at the coffee house she works at. Neither of them noticed my smooth face until I pointed it out.

As I walked into work this morning everyone freaked out when they saw me. They must not know me that well. Everyone instantly noticed.

Mountain man is no more.

My suggestion to you: bookmark this link and return to that web page any time you need to smile.

Here’s a primer:

British scientists say they have produced the “blackest ever” surface developed so far.

NIGEL: I think he’s right, there is something about this, that’s that’s so black, it’s like; “How much more black could this be?” and the answer is: “None, none… more black.”

This post pretty much wrote itself.

Here’s a photo of some pretty damn amusing signs that have been popping up around Atlanta:

Photo credit goes to Chris over at bitter.net. Sign credit may or may not go to R. Land.

So, I’m hanging out backstage at our show last week like a good fake rock star. There is this guy who’s job it is to sit by the back door and make sure no funny stuff goes down. We’ll just call him the back door man (BDM). He seems like a pretty cool guy.

Well, this girl comes backstage and starts to head for the little bathroom that the bands use. BDM starts saying, “hey. hey. hey! hey!” She’s not stopping. BDM was a little drunk at this point in the evening and I guess he didn’t feel like getting up, so he just continued to try to stop her verbally. “hey. hey. hey! hey!” As she’s heading into the bathroom, she turns to him and says, “It’s all good” and closes the door. This seemed to be good enough for BDM, so he just shrugs and continues to sip his beer.

So, apparently you can do anything you want as long as you say, “It’s all good.” That’s some good info to have.

I don’t think I’m coming into work tomorrow. It’s all good.

The sis and I went to watch the Braves end their season last night. The less I say about that, the better. I’m tired and bitter right now–let’s just leave it at that.

The sis pointed out to me the humor in yelling out, “CHARGE!” at sporting events. You know, when that fake trumpet plays and then everyone yells “CHARGE!” at the top of their lungs. What the hell does that mean? It’s so weird to yell out “CHARGE!” at a sporting event. It’s like some holdover from a 1910 college football game where everyone has those big cylindrical megaphone-type things and wears big fur coats and wave triangular banners. “Okay, Buffy, when that trumpet guy sounds the salute, let’s get the gang to all yell, “CHARGE!” It will be ever so much fun.” “Oh you’re the living end, Biff, really you are! You’re practically incorrigible.”

So, the guy standing up there getting ready to be on the receving end of a 95-mph fastball is somehow encouraged by the crowd yelling “CHARGE!” real loud?

“Charge? Charge what? The mound?”