nonamedufus

The world really is going to hell in a soup tureen. Yep, you heard me. According to a recent survey (hey, I don't make these thing up) good table manners have become a thing of the past. Horror of hors d-oeuvres, can you imagine? Personally, I think Colonel Sanders and his finger lickin' good chicken is to blame for the downfall of civil mastication. On the upside he saved us all from washing the utensils over and over again. But I digress. A study of British diners by Bisto found that a quarter of people surveyed believe table manners are not important. Oh, British dinners. Have you seen the food they eat? When you subsist on a diet of bangers and mash that could help explain things. Listen to this. 44% of those polled say they start their food before others arrive at the table. Another 38% regularly answer phone calls while they are eating. Why? Don't they know it's just a telemarketer at the other end of the line? This number does not include my wife who would be am

Here he is. Reporting for duty. Ready to serve in the gallant cause as your subject for this week's Pause Ponder and Pun. Attention! We'll fight back our urge to laugh until we engage the winners, Saturday. As you were.

On the weekend they called an election in Canada. *sighs* You know we're kinda screwed up in this country when it comes to federal politics. For example, the longest serving federal leader is Bloc Quebecois leader Gilles Duceppe, a dyed-in-the-wool separatist bent on sovereignty for Quebec while at the same time having no qualms about collecting a federal salary for the last 21 years. Liberal leader Michael Ignatieff returned from years in exile in Great Britain and the States where he was an academic and journalist to run for the Liberal leadership. In their million dollar pre-election attack ads, the Conservatives sum up his sense of purpose with the line "Ignatieff. he didn't come back for you". And poor New Democrat Party leader Jack Layton has just had hip surgery. We're waiting for the first campaign reference from one of his opponents that he doesn't have a leg to stand on. I know I'm going out on a limb here (no pun intended, Jack) writing about po

I'm surprised no one came up with "poopy head" for our picture this week, except me. Shows you where my head's at. (ha, ha, pun intended) Well let's tap into some of this week's craptions, erm, um, captions. Boom Boom let one drop with: Ms. Paladin's motto: Have Bathroom - Will Travel laughingmom gave us a little tinkle with: port-a-potty 00dozo must have been mighty flushed after coming up with this: Really bad television crossovers: America's Next Top Model contestants host an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. But it was the blogless Raymond who demonstrated himself to be a man after my own pun with: I heard this year's Easter Parade has been moved to Flushing Meadows. Way to go Raymond. You be hanging' with dufus. Congratulations on that ripping caption! I think you've managed to clear the air this week with that one. Thanks to everyone who participated. Looking forward to next week's exercise. But wait. And this week we

So did you notice? What you didn't see it? Feel it? Oh man, I did. I've been waiting three months for it. After all that time of waking up and going to bed in the dark. Of shovelling snow, bundling up, wearing a toque (I'm Canadian, eh), boots and gloves. It's about time things changed around here. I'm talking about Spring, y'all. Yeah, it arrived Sunday - 7:21pm eastern daylight time. But who's counting? You may not know this but there's a considerable family tree associated with Spring. It all started when Sappy Spring married Pulla Forward and they had two children Fall and Back. They've all since been immortalized in that phrase down through the years "Spring Forward, Fall Back". And their children's children, and their children's children, were quite the inventive family. First there was Samuel "Coil" Spring. What did he do? Well, hey, how would we sleep soundly or make bouncy-bouncy without bed springs? Sam's bro

It's not everyone that can carry off wearing a small bathroom on their head. I think this fashion faux pas tanks. How about you? We'll flush out a winner Saturday.

So according to something I read on the internet - thus it must be true - "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn" has been voted as the greatest line of dialogue ever uttered in a movie. The movie of course is Gone With The Wind, a classic from 1939. Yeah, a movie from more than 70 years ago. It beat out such immortal utterances as "May the force be with you", "I'll be back", "You can't handle the truth", "You talkin' to me?" and "Mama always said life is like a box of chocolates". I'd like to know just who the hell voted on this survey - incontinent senile members of AARP ? I mean there's lots of movies out there with some really great lines. Take for example the memorable dialogue from Caddyshack: A flute with no holes is not a flute. And a doughnut with no hole is a Danish. And what about this exchange from Airplane: There's been a little problem in the cockpit, and I was... The cockpit - what is

Wow, I'm impressed. Who knew it only took a couple of bruised and battered babies to bring out the best in people! Ahem, maybe I should rephrase that. This was a banner week for PPP both in the quantity and quality of captions. You folks floated like a butterfly and punned like Ali. For instance Boom Boom , who knows a little bit about my family, threw a left hook with: Whitey vs. Killer? Whitey! Winning! Quirkyloon weighed in with: Charlie and Emilio show off their winning ways. Chris@Knucklehead got ready to rumble with: Llllllllet's get ready to ... WAAAAAAH!!!! 00dozo threw this jab: After enticing Curly to punch himself bare fisted in the eye, Moe has an epiphany for a future vaudeville routine. But I thought Jamie scored a knock-out with: Nobody, and I mean NOBODY touches my sippy cup!! Who-hoo Jamie. You be hangin' with the dufus this week. Way to go, guy. Congratulations. Feel free to grab that dufus pic up there to display on your blog, man. And to everyone el

Faith and begorrah it's bloody Saint Paddy's day! And not unlike St.Patrick driving the snakes from Ireland - after which many of them settled in New York City and Boston and became politicians, I understand - Humor Bloggers Dot Com is driving all you little people to its St. Paddy's Day Humor Carnival. Although I hail from strong Irish stock on both my mother's and father's side of our family, I sometimes wonder about the Irish. Like, why are they always eating stew, drinking green beer and marching in parades? I mean, what's up with that? And their folklore! Leprechauns! Hah, they couldn't come up with a better mythological character than one most folks look down on? Well, they have to, don't they. They're only two and-a-half feet tall. Little old men dressed in green who spend all their time making shoes, playing tricks, prancing through the forest and counting their money in pots of gold at the end of some rainbow. C'mon. Is that a manly cul

Do your thing, folks. We'll see who cleans up Saturday.

I don't know if you've ever experienced this. I have. And it's scarier than any nightmare I've ever had. Although I should qualify that by saying I rarely remember what I dream about. But I'm not talking about dreams here. I'm talking about what occurs sometimes before I dream. You know, in that period of time between being awake and drifting off to la-la land. I had to look it up on Wikipedia and the term for that transitional period is hypnagogia. Some nights I think I'm channeling Stephen King, Dean Koontz and H.P. Lovecraft all rolled into one. As I start to drift off my mind races, going off in several different directions, kind of like twilight ADD, trying to process the scariest of thoughts. I certainly wouldn't come up with them during the day time, nor likely dream about them in my deepest slumbers. But they come to me in that transitional time between wakefulness and sleep. Involuntarily. Like, oh, I don't know, sticking a pencil in my eyeb