When Your Interior Monologue Becomes External

Many of us have put our foot in our mouths at one time or another.  Hell, I remember reminiscing with some high school acquaintances I ran into a few years ago.  They graduated a couple of years ahead of me, so I didn’t know them except from playing football together and “J.B.” and I got to talking about funny things and people we remembered from school when I veered off into the weeds.

Jeff:  “Hey, J.B. – remember that lunch lady with the lazy eye?  How she was always pointing at some kid and saying “C’mere!” but she’d be looking somewhere else?  What was her name?”

J.B.:  “It was Janice.”

Jeff:  “Miss Janice!  That was it!”

J.B.:  “She’s my mom.”

Jeff:  “oh.”

Thank God no one was videotaping my assholery.  Unfortunately for GOP Oklahoma State Representative Dennis Johnson, the internet is forever.

 

 

My favorite part is when someone stops him in the middle of his speech to show him the shoe-treads on his dick and he says, “I did?  Oh.  Sorry about that, Jews.  Y’all are good businessmen, too.  I guess you could say that your people really have a NOSE for business, am I right?!”

What a fucking idiot. 

At least this story introduced me to “Heeb Magazine”, which seems to specialize in self-deprecating, tongue-in-cheek humor.  The writer adds his own acceptable uses of “Jew” as a verb, including my favorite – to “Jew it up.”

Jew [Something] Up

Situation: You have close Jewish friends coming over for a “holiday” party, and the blue-and white lights just aren’t enough to make them feel welcome. [Note: Jews always appreciate your sad attempts to make us feel welcome with subtle acknowledgement of our third-least important holiday that happened six weeks prior.]

Example: “We only have five candles to Jew up the mantle, but they’re all different sizes!”

Shalom!

Federal Agents Detain Unarmed Suspect At Roadblock

When it’s giggle- time, nothing is beneath me.

 

NOTHING.

You were all thinking it.

A Saskatoon man is demanding an apology and refusing to pay a $175 ticket for not wearing a seatbelt, because he has no arms and can’t fasten one unassisted.

I know, I know.  How can the cop be such a dick to a guy with no arms, right?

When the Mountie requested his licence and registration, Mr. Simonar stepped out of the car and asked the officer to retrieve the documents from his pocket.

See?  That’s a brilliant move.  You can see the cop’s wheel’s spinning:   Hmm.  Rummage around in his pockets next to his bozack, which this dude hasn’t been able to touch, himself, for almost three decades?  Pass. 

“Ahem.  That won’t be necessary, citizen.  Just try to be more careful in the future.” 

Fuck, yes!  High fiv-!

Sorry.

He said the officer was prepared to let him go, but a Saskatoon Police Service sergeant overseeing the operation instructed him to issue a ticket.

“He became very ignorant, and said, ‘Well if he can’t put his seatbelt on maybe he shouldn’t be driving.’ That’s what really made me mad.”

Hmm.  He’s actually got a good point, though.  You managed to rig up a device to steer your car with one foot (five cars!), you can put the thing in gear using your feet, but you can’t figure out how to fasten your seatbelt?  C’mon, dude.  There’s a whole organization of people out there who paint with their feet.  I’m pretty sure you can figure it out.

And give the cop a break, would you?  He’s an officer, sworn to uphold the law.  He probably doesn’t like ticketing you, but his hands are tie-

 

Sorry.