Tag Archives: humor

What is “Fax Machine?”

I’m trying to get back to San Francisco in July. Yes I got back yesterday, but yes I loved it and yes I want to live out there just like the rest of the dreamers in the world. A large man at a bakery told me to come back when I made it big and buy a cupcake from him so now I definitely have to go back. He awaits me with his floppy hat and the cupcake.

Unfortunately, I’ve found myself in the awkward position of having no money. This sad fact has led me to Craig’s list as I search for the likely-lethal ride share possibilities. I’m also considering the safer yet more complicated method of using frequent flier miles, which got me out to SF in the first place.

Scared of Craig’s list, I began trying to rack up my miles in earnest. After cashing in on all possible miles with Delta, I still found myself short a cute 30,000 miles for a reward trip. Disappointed but not yet defeated, I turned my sights towards American Airlines.

I hadn’t earned any miles for my first trip to Cairo last May, which could put me just over 12.5K miles, the minimum amount for a reward trip. “They owe me,” I thought. I also thought, “This will be easy. Flight problem solved. Next step: find a puppy and an apartment.” As I found out later, the puppy will have to wait.

So I hunted through the back logs of my emails, scrutinized all of the numbers that lay within the ones pertaining to flight information, and found everything I thought I needed. Success was at hand. I could see the California sun, the blue water of the bay reflecting its golden rays. I filled in the information for the first leg of the journey, feeling cocky. Then came the second leg, carried by Royal Jordanian.

As soon as I selected the name of that carrier, this message came up: “Mileage credit requests for this airline must be submitted via fax. Please send a copy of your ticket receipt and boarding pass(es) to 1-817-963-7882.”

Excuse me? Did I read my screen correctly? You want me to fax something? As in, use a fax machine to transmit information? How about instead of faxing anything, I build a time machine and go back to rescue American Airlines from where it is clearly trapped in the past. I could bring their executive leadership into the year 2012 where we have things like scanners and internet.

Also, when they say boarding passes, do they mean those pieces of trash with numbers and my seat number on them that I have to show the person in front of the jetbridge in order to get on the plane? The ones I usually crumple, fill with gum, or tear apart before absent mindedly shoving them into the pocket of the seat in front of me? Surely they don’t mean those things?

All of this archaic nonsense makes it seem like they don’t want me to get these miles. It’s almost like they want me to pay for a flight. But I’ve never heard of a large, failing corporation acting against the interests of the consumer, so that certainly can’t be it.

I guess it’s back to Craig’s list.

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Let’s Pulp These Redwoods

As I was in Muir Woods yesterday, gazing up at redwood trees that were decades old, trees that oozed wisdom and earthiness and nature, I thought to myself, “These would make a dump-load of paper.” The pile would be huge! A gigantic pile of paper, a majestic pile of all different kinds of paper: magazine grade paper, cardstock, envelopes, post-its, a mosaic of various types and cuts of paper.

I wonder how many dumpsters all that paper would fill. If you took all the trees in Muir Woods and made it into paper (toilet paper, nose tissue, cardboard), I bet it would take up an entire landfill. So much waste…it would be awesome!

Just one tree would make reams and reams of paper. They’re so tall! Those towering majestic redwoods are so slender and shapely I just want to shove them into a pulper and let the magic happen.

If we made Muir Woods into paper and then took that trash to the moon and littered it everywhere, it would probably cover a large portion of the moon’s surface, or at least fill that place that’s called something like the Sea of Loneliness and we could rename it the Sea of Redwood Trash instead.

And if we took all the redwood paper and dumped it into the ocean, I can’t even imagine how much wildlife we would kill. But it would definitely be an insane amount.

Nature is awesome.

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A Victim of Netflix Mania: Part Two

(continued from Part One. Doctor was just about to interview the patient)

Doctor (addressing the patient for the first time): Hi, I’m Doctor, and this is Nurse. We’re your friends! Can you tell us how you feel?

Me: (drooling, eyes unfocused, legs dangling and kicking) Uhhhhh….duhhhh…doh…..bababa. Lalalalalalala. Meow!

Doctor: Hahahaha! Good meow! Now can you make people words to tell me how head feels? (gestures at head)

Me: (waving right hand around wildly, as if grasping the remote control, appearing frustrated, brow furrowed, looking at doctor with dissatisfaction) TV breakie? (bursts into tears).

Doctor: TV breakie bad bad?

Me: (nodding vigorously, wiping nose on sleeve and then rubbing eyes) Uh huh….I sad sad.

Doctor (holding up dum dums):  You want snacky snack? We have tasty treat!

Me (with irrepressible joy and greed): MINE (grasps for the dum dums, shoves handful in mouth, wrappers and all)

Doctor (to the mother while patient happily chomps on the dum dums and spits out the wrappers and sticks): This is one of the worst cases I’ve seen. Usually they remember how to eat suckers. Instead, she’s become a sucker herself. (high fives Nurse).

Nurse: Nice one.

Mother: What’s happened to her?

Doctor: Ma’am, your daughter’s once healthy brain has turned into the equivalent of high quality dog food. One night of reckless Netflix usage has destroyed years of education, a college degree, and any semblance of social skills. Only electronic stimuli and pure sugar can get the neurons firing now. This is by far the worst case of Netflix mania that I’ve ever seen.

Nurse (in awe): whoa…..

Mother: Is there a cure?

Doctor: There’s no guaranteed way of reversing the damage. She may be left handicapped for the rest of her life, sitting in her own filth, clutching a jar of gummy bears as she watches progressively worse television year after year. Friends who once knew her will stop calling, and the family will grow weary of wiping the drool off her cheeks or closing her eyelids for her to sleep. The added tension will cause the family to fray, everyone’s temper growing a little shorter with the passing of the years, sharp words digging into each other’s insecurities. Friends will find excuses to stop coming over, and those who can get away, will.

Mother: (gasp!)

Doctor: But it doesn’t have to be this way. If there’s any hope for your daughter, it lies with you and your family. You will be vigilant, ruthless. You must not let her watch television for a month and monitor her constantly. During this time, you will force her to read and engage in conversation with humans. Begin by reading aloud to her and give her treats if she does it herself. Do not let her near a computer; she will only try to watch television. When she finally begins to speak again, she will attempt to quote things she heard on television. She must not be allowed to do this: you will make her brain revive the lost synapses. I’m also going to prescribe some logic puzzles for her to complete daily. It will be grueling, but in the end, you might have a functioning daughter instead of this pathetic example of lost potential.

Mother: But…what if…

Doctor: THERE ARE NO WHAT IFS. This is your daughter’s last chance. You, maam, are her only hope, and a sorry one at that. Only you, your family, your friends, and your medical practitioner-that’s me-can prevent heartbreaking failure. I have not thought of a plan B. Unless you want to start buying Depends in bulk, you need to get your mind together so you can save her’s. Do you understand me?

Mother: I….

Doctor: DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!

Mother: Yes sir!

Doctor: Nurse, do you understand me?

Nurse: Yes, sir!

Mother (to Nurse and Doctor): Do you understand me?

Everyone, except for me: YES SIR!

Mother: Let’s do it! (high fives all around)

Me: Meow.

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A Victim of Netflix Mania: Part One

(I watched a lot of TV and then my mind felt slow, inspiring this story.)

Scene: Doctor’s Office

Doctor (addressing Nurse prior to entering a patient’s room): Sir, hit me with the patient’s history.

Nurse: Sir, the patient’s family brought her in this morning. They had found her weeping while trying to hug the television. At the time, the TV was displaying the Netflix home screen. She is currently functioning at the mental capacity of a toddler. Her mother said that when they went to sleep last night, she was behaving normally. However, she had just discovered how to use the family’s Netflix account on their new television and was on her 3rd straight hour of comedy programming.

Doctor: And they just left her there?

Nurse: Yes, sir.

Doctor: Sir, what is this patient’s previous television viewing record?

Nurse: According to the family, the patient goes through bouts of extreme motivation, where she watches little to no television. However, during breaks from school or periods of emotional malaise, this motivation focuses on television and she consumes entire seasons of her favorite shows in days. She becomes inaccessible and irritable, insisting on complete solitude and/or demanding others watch with her. They told of one summer when she watched an entire season of True Blood in 3 days and would not “shut up” about it. They referred to it as “a scary time.”

Doctor: Television is not meant to be watched in this way. And what is her previous experience with Netflix, sir?

Nurse: Sir, she has never had access to unrestricted Netflix watching. The family thinks it may have caused her to lose her mind.

Doctor: They may be right, sir. She may be crazy. I feel we might be looking at another case of Netflix-induced mania. Shall we go in to see the patient? Do you have your rubber duckies and pipe cleaner handcuffs, just in case?

Nurse: Of course, sir. I am a nurse, sir, not an imbecile.

They enter the examination room, where the patient babbles, her mother hovering worriedly

Doctor (addressing the mother): Hi, thank you for waiting. I’m sure you’re quite concerned about your daughter. We’re going to do all we can to save her. As I once said: a mind is a terrible thing to waste.

Mother (anxiously): Doctor, what’s wrong with my daughter? Can you help her?

Doctor (assertively): We’re going to get to the illness of this bottom. Oops! I meant bottom of this illness. (laughs heartily.) Don’t you hate it when that happens! Anyways, I’ve dealt with cases like this before and almost cured them. She’s in good hands. (shows her his hands). These hands.

Nurse: (holding up his hands) And these hands.

How do the symptoms represent? Will the patient be cured? Can this happen to you? Some or all of these questions might be answered tomorrow, when the saga continues.

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Shame Eat With Ease!

Hi! Thank you for purchasing 8 oz. of Lynette’s “Seriously Chocolate” Homemade Fudge: Shame Eating Edition.

Through market research, we have determined that it’s highly likely you’ve considered not sharing this purchase with anyone. Right after you bought this butter and sugar brick, you may have been thinking about how much your spouse, kids, co-workers, or roommates would enjoy savoring its creamy texture and delicious chocolate taste. Then you started thinking about how much you would enjoy these same things, and how much longer you could enjoy it if you didn’t share. Hey, we’re with you there! We also think it would be lovely to sit and gobble this diabetes trap furtively like a woodland creature, discarding it before anyone you know sees you.

Just when you thought Lynette’s fudge couldn’t get any better, we’ve made it easier for you to shame eat and dispose of the evidence quickly and simply. For that reason, we’ve included a little plastic spoon right here in the container at no extra charge! By using a spoon to shame eat fudge, you can still retain some dignity and avoid a big post-fudge mess. Lynette’s recommended shame eating method is to drive to the nearest parking lot, make sure you’re mostly alone, and inhale the fudge-y goodness as soon as you park the car. If the weather is appropriate, Lynette likes to go to a different part of town and shame eat her fudge in a park while enjoying nature. We’re sure you’ll love it  too!

Currently we are developing a car-friendly way to devour fudge embarrassingly fast that doesn’t involve grubbing it with your hands and risking a stain on your work clothes or getting fudge fingers. If you’re interested in being put on our newsletter list, we can keep you updated on all the tricks we have up our sleeve to help keep you eating behind the backs of your loved ones. Just email us at eat@shame.org and we’ll put your name on our list.

Here at Lynette’s, we have always believed that you deserve complete privacy as you put away the treats you deserve. Thank you supporting our mission and happy shame eating!

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