The Comedy Thread - Jokes, Cartoons, Whatever
- Thread starter Gomez Adams
- Start date
I remember an old BC comic strip where BC is standing there and Thor, Peter and the fat broad Jane are listening to him and he says, "Man will never master the English language".
The three say: "Nonsense" "Tommyrot" "Preposterous".
So BC grabs a hand full of dirt and says, "Ok, what's this?"
The three say: "Soil" "Earth" "Dirt".
BC Says: the prosecution rests.
The three say: "Nonsense" "Tommyrot" "Preposterous".
So BC grabs a hand full of dirt and says, "Ok, what's this?"
The three say: "Soil" "Earth" "Dirt".
BC Says: the prosecution rests.
One of the challenges of having an autistic spectrum son is his nearly photographic memory. He remembers everything, especially everything his mother tells him. At the bus stop just now, this is the conversation:
Me: *winces - grabs lower back* Ahhhhh.
Son: Your back hurting again?
Me: Yes, son.
Son: I'm sorry for your back.
Me: Thank you, son.
Son: Mom says you're back is garbage.
Me: *slowly I turn look* Yes. It pretty much is.
Son: Mom says your back is like a bag of gravel just rubbing together all the time.
Me: *slightly alarmed* Ummmm...yeah. It is. That's
Son: Mom says your back is completely destroyed.
Me: OK THEN! That's enough of that. Let's move on.
Son: So me and mom were talking about getting a Fitbit or a Spongebob watch.
Me: *winces - grabs lower back* Ahhhhh.
Son: Your back hurting again?
Me: Yes, son.
Son: I'm sorry for your back.
Me: Thank you, son.
Son: Mom says you're back is garbage.
Me: *slowly I turn look* Yes. It pretty much is.
Son: Mom says your back is like a bag of gravel just rubbing together all the time.
Me: *slightly alarmed* Ummmm...yeah. It is. That's
Son: Mom says your back is completely destroyed.
Me: OK THEN! That's enough of that. Let's move on.
Son: So me and mom were talking about getting a Fitbit or a Spongebob watch.
OK, so the parts for my old, worn out, trusty Volvo are supposed to be here in the next couple of days. The problem is, the wife forgot about it and filled the gas tank up when she took my car to the park with the dog. (She uses my car so she doesn't get any dog fur in her car.)
So I headed out to do my motorcycle route through the mountains to burn some of the gas out. Managed to get rid of about a half tank. (even giving it hell, the old Volvo still got 24 MPG - IN THE MOUNTAINS no less.)
While headed north, I pass through Gainesville. Home of the Georgia Trumptard. And I pulled up right behind one.
I took the liberty of labeling the tell tale signs, just in case you might miss them:
So I headed out to do my motorcycle route through the mountains to burn some of the gas out. Managed to get rid of about a half tank. (even giving it hell, the old Volvo still got 24 MPG - IN THE MOUNTAINS no less.)
While headed north, I pass through Gainesville. Home of the Georgia Trumptard. And I pulled up right behind one.
I took the liberty of labeling the tell tale signs, just in case you might miss them:
So after all the drama with FCP Euro, I had ordered the very same Wix fuel filter and the fuel system cleaner from Amazon.
The filter arrived today per Amazon:
The problem is, that isn't my house.
This is my front door:
I tell you, I'm really at my wits end here. Can ANYBODY do ANYTHING right anymore?!?!
And here's the rub: I am the ONLY 3700 number on this street. Dead center. End of cul-de-sac. You can't miss it. (Well, obviously, you can as we now know, but I mean for fucks sake.)
And just so we're absolutely clear here, the numbers are on a placard on top of the mailbox. I actually walked over to my neighbors driveway about 30 feet away and took this picture:
If you open that image up in a new window to 100%, the numbers are CLEARLY legible from 30 feet away. How can you drive past it and NOT see it?
And again, there is no other 3700 number on this street. It's 3800 either side of me and goes up from there.
Am I being unreasonable?
Is it just me?
I mean, what the actual fuck, people?!
EDIT TO ADD: Someone knocked on the door as I was typing this and brought me the filter.
The filter arrived today per Amazon:
The problem is, that isn't my house.
This is my front door:
I tell you, I'm really at my wits end here. Can ANYBODY do ANYTHING right anymore?!?!
And here's the rub: I am the ONLY 3700 number on this street. Dead center. End of cul-de-sac. You can't miss it. (Well, obviously, you can as we now know, but I mean for fucks sake.)
And just so we're absolutely clear here, the numbers are on a placard on top of the mailbox. I actually walked over to my neighbors driveway about 30 feet away and took this picture:
If you open that image up in a new window to 100%, the numbers are CLEARLY legible from 30 feet away. How can you drive past it and NOT see it?
And again, there is no other 3700 number on this street. It's 3800 either side of me and goes up from there.
Am I being unreasonable?
Is it just me?
I mean, what the actual fuck, people?!
EDIT TO ADD: Someone knocked on the door as I was typing this and brought me the filter.
