Something new-ish from Old Guy Office Mate!

Taking a cue from my old buddy (and I mean OLD!) Coffeypot, I decided to do something here that I rarely ever do.

I know you’re thinking, “What’s that? Be funny?”

But to you I say, “Ha! Nice one, Assmunch!......NO, I’m always funny, but I thought I would copy and paste something that someone else sent me.”

And that someone is the NOW RETIRED Old Guy Office Mate!

Actually, he retired in August, and has spent the ensuing months repeatedly crashing his personal computer.

But he is FINALLY back up and running and forwarding me mostly trash, but occasionally funny stuff like this:

I had just come out of the store with a meat & potato pie, large chips, mushy peas, and a jumbo sausage.

A poor homeless man was sitting there and said, “I have not eaten for two days”.

I told him, “I wish I had your fucking willpower!’

Tip: If you’re camping in the summer and the attractive girl in the next tent tells you that because of the heat, she will be sleeping with her flaps open, it is NOT necessarily an invitation for casual sex.

Wish me luck; I appear in court next Monday.

I got fired on my first day as a male masseuse. Apparently the instruction ‘finish off on her face’ didn’t mean what I thought it did.

A fat girl was serving me food at McDonalds during Lunch Time the other day.

She said, “Sorry about the wait.”

I said, “Don’t worry, Fatty! You’re bound to lose it eventually!”

There is Snow in the Forecast. The TV weather gal said she was expecting 8 inches tonight.

I thought to myself, “Fat chance with a face like that!”

Years ago there was a common saying of “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

But since all the doctors now seem to be Muslim, I’ve found that a bacon sandwich works best.

I took my Biology exam last Friday. I was asked to name 2 things commonly found in cells.

Apparently ‘Blacks’ and ‘Mexicans’ were not the correct answers.

Well, there you have it. Some slightly offensive stuff from Old Guy!

I’ll be back with a real post later this week.

Some girls are looking for Mr. Right, while others are looking for Mr. Next.

*This was originally an idea for a stand-up bit. I figured it might play good to the college aged crowd that frequents the comedy club*


I recently watched that movie starring Emma Stone called "Easy A".

There's this girl who lies about sleeping with all these guys in order to IMPROVE her reputation.

Basically, she says she has slept with all these guys when she really hasn't.

Talk about role reversal. Saying you've slept with more people than you have in order to make yourself look good? That's something guys do.

In fact, I'm not even sure it works to improve your reputation unless you ARE A GUY.

Don't get me wrong, we all know girls lie about it.

But it's usually in order to DECREASE the number of guys they have slept with.

Right guys? What's that old rule we all learn when we're younger?

"However many guys a girl says she has slept with, times that number by 2, and add 10 to get the real number."

And if she refuses to discuss how many lovers she has had, it really means that she's either had so many she can't remember, or she sucks at Math and can't do the above problem in reverse before telling you.

So...how do you tell which one of those two possibilities it is?

Well guys, if your girl has so many notches in her bedpost that she's practically sleeping in a hammock....then its probably the first one.

If she has so many notches in her belt that she's basically holding up her pants with window screen...then its probably the first one.

Of course.....she IS a girl, so the Math one is a real possibility too.

Regardless, whatever the number, try not to judge her. Everybody has made mistakes.

And her propensity for making mistakes might just play in your favor.

Part 2 of Bowling Post....Ed vs. The Masochistic X-Ray Tech

After the x-ray tech yanked off my sock and I shouted, “Jesus Christ, LADY!”

...I was greeted with this...

And that is when the real fun began:

Me: “Holy shit! Would you look at that sucker?! It didn't look like that at the bowling alley!”
X-ray Tech: “Yeah. Sometimes the really bad ones take awhile to puff up.”
Me: “Well, it's doing a good job of it now. So, where do you want me?”
X-ray Tech: “I need to have you up here on this table.”
Me: “That's what she said.”
X-ray Tech: *blink, blink*
Me: *hoisting self out of wheelchair and up on table*
X-ray Tech: “Okay, I need to have you place your foot flat on the table, so you might need to bend your knee:”
Me: “Okay” *grimacing and trying to flatten out foot*
X-ray Tech: “Flatter. All the way down.”
Me: “I'm trying.”
X-ray Tech: *pushes my foot down flat*
Me: “Ouch. Damn it!”
X-ray Tech: “I know it hurts, honey.”
Me: “And THAT'S why you pushed down on it?!?!”
X-ray Tech: “Ok. Hold still right there.” *goes in cubbie and makes machine buzz*
X-ray Tech: “Good. Now, I need you to put the inside edge of your foot flat on the table.”
Me: “Okay.” *slowly positioning foot*
X-ray Tech: *pushing on my foot*
Me: “Damn!”
X-ray Tech: “There. Hold still.” *back in cubbie, more buzzing*
X-ray Tech: “Now, straighten out your leg all the way and point your toes straight out”
Me: *grrrrrrr*
X-ray Tech: “Good. Hold still” *cubbie. Buzz, buzz*
X-Ray Tech: “Now, I need you to point your toes straight up. Like you're pulling your foot back towards you.”
Me: “Okay.”
X-ray Tech: *Pushing up on the bottom of my foot*
Me: “What the hell, lady? Are you some kind of masochist?”
X-ray Tech: “No.” *snickering*
Me: “Bullshit. I bet you love your job.”
X-ray Tech: *ignoring me*“Hold that right there” *more cubbie and buzzing*
X-ray Tech: “Okay, I need you to lay your foot on the outside edge.”
Me: *shifting and trying* “Ouch”
X-ray Tech: “Further. Keep going. All the way over”
Me: “That's is far as its going.”
X-ray Tech: “I know that's the sore side, but you have to go further over.”
Me: *trying*
X-ray Tech: “Good. Hold it.” *buzz*
X-ray Tech: “Okay. Now, back on the inside edge, but not as far flat.”
Me: *positioning foot*
X-ray Tech: *yanking foot where she wants it*
Me: “Shit! Stop helping me!”
X-ray Tech: “I'm not trying to hurt you.”
Me: “Well, if that's the case, you FAILED!”
X-ray Tech: “Just hold still.” *back to cubbie and buzzing*
X-ray Tech: “Okay, we are almost done. Last one. Unfortunately, its back on your sore side.”
Me: “Oh sure! Why not! Why don't you just rip the motherfucker off and position it however way you want?!”
X-ray Tech: *laughing* “That's good enough right there. Hold that.” *more buzzing*
X-ray Tech: “Okay. We're all done. The pictures look excellent. You can relax and put your foot where ever you want.”
Me: “How about I put it up your fucking ass?!”
X-ray Tech: “Hahahaha, I'm not sure that would feel very good for you.”
Me: “Oh, I don't know that I would say that.”
X-ray Tech: “Hahahaha, you're pretty funny. Especially for being in as much pain as you must be .”
Me: “Yeah, I'm sorry. I don't mean anything by it. I just like to joke around. It's how I deal with pressure and stress.”
X-ray Tech: “Well, now I'm feeling a little stressed.”
Me: “Good. Then that means I succeeded in passing mine off to you. Enjoy!”

Back to the ER.

Waiting...

The PA comes in and says, “Well, I have some bad news and worse news.”

I love it when they don't even attempt to sugarcoat it.

He says, “It is broke. That's the bad news. The worse news is that...well...the two bones in your lower leg form like a U-shape that surrounds the ankle joint. Your Fibula side of the U is broken, leaving just the Tibia side. Now, the Tibia side is the weight bearing side, but without the Fibula side there, the whole ankle is unstable. So we'll probably splint it and have you see an Orthopedic Surgeon.”
Me: “Geez. So, does that mean surgery?”
PA: “It means that the Orthopedic Surgeon will have to look at it and decide if it needs surgery. So, who would you like to see?”
Me: “I don't know. Let me do some checking around and get back to you on that.”

My brother-in-law said: “Dang dude. I feel sorry for you. I wish this wouldn't have happened.”
I said, “I just wish it would have happened to you instead. It's the least you could do since I let you bone my sister.”

I made some calls to family to get opinions on available docs, and decided that the Ortho on call was actually the one I wanted anyway and told the PA.

He came by later to tell me that the on call Ortho pulled up my films on his computer at home and said it looked intact enough that it didn't need surgery and should heal fine.

Later, they came by to tell me (interrupting my watching Avatar on my brother-in-laws iphone, the nerve of them!) that they were putting me in a temporary splint until the swelling went down, after which the Ortho would see me in his office for a regular cast.

I said, “Well, lets get this show on the road. I've got places to be. I need to finish my game. I left during just the 3rd frame.”

They wrapped me up, gave me some Loritab and crutches, and sent me on my way.

4 hours later.

So much for the new ER Fast Track.

As the nurse was wheeling me out, she almost ran my leg into a post.

Me: “Look, if you run me into a post, we are gonna have problems.”
Nurse: “I'm a good driver.”
Me: “I saw that when you almost took my leg off a second ago.”
Nurse: “Ha. What's wrong? Don't trust a woman driver?”
Me: “Well, I was gonna say something about that, but since you're still driving me, I figured I'd wait until we got there first.”
Nurse: “Ha.”

Then she almost shoved me into the side of my brother-in-laws truck.

I said, “There you go again. Proving those stereotypes right.”

Then we left, got my script filled, and grabbed a pizza.

I proceeded to sleep for the next 18 hrs or so.

Fun times.

An Illegal Lane Change In Bowling Can Cost You A Leg.

When one thinks of dangerous activities, they usually think of things such as bungee jumping, sky diving, hang gliding, etc.

When they think of dangerous sports, they think of football, cage fighting, skiing, etc.

Nobody ever says, “You know what's REALLY dangerous? Bowling!”

Sure, it has the potential to be dangerous when you're constantly swinging around big heavy balls.

But I'm used to that. On a daily basis.

No, nobody ever fears bowling. Especially at a kids birthday party.

Friday was my middle son's 7th birthday party.

After attending a bowling party for his cousin, and his friend from school within the last month, he had decided that he no longer wanted a Chuck-E-Cheese's party, but a bowling party.

No problem. One of the local bowling alleys had recently remodeled under new ownership and now had both bowling and a Chuck-E-Cheese's-type family rec center. It was like a twofer.

AND they were offering birthday packages.

After spending the day helping out with coverage at the Peru VA clinic, I had my coworker drop me off at the bowling place so I wouldn't be late for the party.

Soon, everyone had arrived and the party was underway.

My brother-in-law is an excellent bowler, and I was kind of looking forward to a rematch, after he doubled my score at the last kid party.

Now, there are many theories as to what happened...

Some said that my bootcut jeans I was wearing were caught under my bowling shoe...

Some said that I foot faulted with my plant foot which landed on the oiled lane...

I said I was attacked by invisible brain-eating zombies that wanted to devour my ginormous brain...

Regardless...what should have been like this...

Ended up like this...

When I planted my left foot to release the ball, it slid forward...right out from under me...

Causing me to fall backwards, straight down on top of my right leg and ankle...

landing on top of my heel and causing the ankle to flatten straight out and roll slightly, before I was able to flip it out from under me.

Everyone instantly went from laughing to gasping to asking if I was okay.

I laid there for a few.

The guy running the place walked by and looked down at me laying in the lane and said, “You alright man?” then continued on his way before I had a chance to answer.

I sat up, with my legs straight out in front of me.

My ankle was throbbing. It felt like someone was stabbing a knife into the side of it.

All I could think was, “Man! I can't believe I didn't pick up that spare.”

I slowly drug myself backwards out of the lane and sat there on the floor by the ball return.

I knew something was wrong. It hurt too bad not to be. I could wiggle my toes, but didn't even want to think about putting my weight on it.

A couple people asked if I wanted help up. I said, “No. Just leave me alone for a second.”

My wife eventually brought me a chair to sit in.

I hoisted myself up in the chair and sat waiting for the pain to subside a little.

I felt my leg and ankle with my hands. No obvious broken bones. No swelling. Just tenderness and shooting pain with any movement.

My wife was adamant that I go to the ER. I was determined to wait it out and maybe finish the game.

I soon changed my mind after I started to try and stand.

My brother-in-law offered to take me to the hospital. Mainly because he was “bowling like shit anyway.”

When we got to the hospital, after suffering the various barbs from the ER staff like, “BOWLING?!?!” and “I didn't realize that was a contact sport!” and “Were you trying to kick the ball down the lane?”, I was eventually taken to x-ray.

***To Be Continued***

Nduku Needs A Laptop About As Bad As He Needs A Snow Shovel.

Some Charities and Non-Profits are stupid.

Have you seen these commercials that say, “For every laptop you buy, we’ll send a laptop to an African child in a remote village.”?

YES!

Sign me up!

Because that is JUST was little Nduku needs.

Not some silly mosquito netting.

Or clean drinking water.

NO.

Instead…

Let’s give him a way to make sure that I receive a fresh and steady stream of crap like this:

“Congraduation! You WINNERS of $10 MILLION Euros! We just need your accounts to complete wire transfer of monies. We are to be Bestest of Friends. So respond today. Don’t miss out on you chance to be Rich man.”

Just let the little MF’er get his laptop the same way all the other little African children do.

By waiting around until he is eventually adopted by Angelina Jolie

Just One Of Those Days....Perfect For Dying

Coworker: “Are you having as busy a day as I am?”

Me: “I’m having one of those days where there’s just not enough ammo in the clip.”

Coworker: “This day is so busy, I wish someone would just come in and kill me.”

Me: “I’m so busy, I’m ready to shoot myself in the face.”

Coworker: “I’m even more busy, so I’m going to slit my wrists with a paperclip and end it.”

Me: “I’m the busiest, which is why I keep an emergency cyanide capsule in my desk, just like a spy, for days like this.”

Coworker: “I’m ready to walk out in front of a semi.”

Me: “I’m ready for a rabid chimpanzee to tear my face off.”

Coworker: “I’m not sure that would do the trick.”

Me: “But afterwards, he would leave me lying faceless and bloody in the Lions cage at feeding time.”

Coworker: “…..”

Me: “And after a couple of hours, the zoo keeper would take whatever was left and run it through a wood chipper.”

Coworker: “That might do it.”

Me: “AND THEN spread THAT in the shark tank.”

Coworker: “You win.”

Me: “YES! I win at dying!”