March 14, 2012

• Funny Blog

  So @Againstthewind1 has made today Funny Blog day

  And while i’m always happy to spread a bit of humour…i’m sadly pretty crap at coming up with funny stuff on the spot, so here are three stories of varying length that have gathered up over the years on my machine…not sure where they come from and you might have even heard one or two of them before, but for those who haven’t (or have forgotten) I hope it brings a smile.

  ===No.1 Bear Remover===

  > A man wakes up one morning to find a bear on his
  > roof. So he looks in the yellow pages and sure
  > enough, there’s an ad for “Bear Removers.”
  >
  > He calls the number, and the Bear Remover says
  > he’ll be over in 30 minutes.
  > The Bear Remover arrives, and gets out of his van.
  > He’s got a ladder, a baseball bat, a shotgun and a
  > mean old pit bull.
  > “What are you going to do?” the homeowner asks.
  > “I’m going to put this ladder up against the roof,
  > then I’m going to go up there and knock the bear
  > off the roof with this baseball bat. When the
  > bear falls off, the pit bull is trained to grab
  > his testicles and not let go.
  > The bear will then be subdued enough for me to
  > put him in the cage in the back of the van, and
  > then I can take him back to the woods and set him
  > free.”
  >
  > He then hands the shotgun to the homeowner
  > “What’s the shotgun for?”, asks the
  > homeowner.
  > “If the bear knocks me off the roof, shoot the
  > dog”.

  ===================

  ====No.2 The Parrot=====

  A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird’s mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity. John tried and tried to change the bird’s attitude by consistently

  saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else he could think of

  to “clean up” the bird’s vocabulary. Finally, John was fed up and he yelled at the parrot.

  The parrot yelled back. John shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and even ruder. John, in desperation, threw up his hand, grabbed the bird and put him in the freezer. For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then suddenly there was total quiet. Not a peep was heard for over a minute.

  Fearing that he’d hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer. The parrot calmly stepped out onto John’s outstretched arms

  and said “I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions.

  I’m sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior.”

  John was stunned at the change in the bird’s attitude.

  As he was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird continued, “May I ask what the turkey did?”

   ==================

  ===No.3 The Squirrel====

  (I know this is long but it’s totally worth it

  I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect…I was on Brice Street – a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it – it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!

  Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Gold Wing with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, “Bonzai!” or maybe, “Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!” The leap was nothing short of spectacular … as he shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest.

  Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser,dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing…

  I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled
  from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

  But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary peeved -off squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.

  I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Gold Wingcan only have one result. Torque. This is what the Gold Wing is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Gold Wing screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in … well … I just plain screamed.

  Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn-t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other
  hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to
  his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody’s tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle … my brain was just simply overloaded

  I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway, he began hissing in my face.
  I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however.

  The RPMs on The Bike maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment) so her front end started to drop. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel’s tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet.

  By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the upper hand … I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked … sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of … so to speak. Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.

  I heard screams. They weren’t mine… I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire
  smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody’s front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver’s seat was standing in the street and was aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car.

  So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to “let the professionals handle it” anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery
  from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car .. but it was all his.

  I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And some Band-Aids

   ======================

  • 2:43 pm
  • 6 Comments