“You don’t have to give him hell.
He brought his own.” – X
This is obviously humor. But it is also stunningly accurate about some people. Most of them are oblivious to the negativity they bring to the room.
X
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Negativity
Category Archives: Humor
New Product!
Kraft Heinz didn’t respond to my new product idea.
I was especially proud of my proposed tagline: “Since you’re already drinking the Kool-Aid, why not show the world what fruity looks and tastes like?”
PS This is political humor. And since I made it, I’ll share it.
Enjoy!
X
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2 a.m.
I enjoy the uncertainty of inconvenience stores. They are the way stations of unpredictability. This morning I stopped at the inconvenience store super early. A young girl exited a vehicle. She had a hospital ID band on and she seemed disoriented. When I walked in, I felt disoriented too. It’s normally quite dead at that hour. The clerk was on his tiptoes, pushing at the ceiling tiles with a short broom. Near the soda machine were several women all looking up and chattering. Naturally, I goosed the clerk hard in the ribs unexpectedly as he stretched. He giggled like a pigtailed girl. The other women ranging in ages from I couldn’t possibly guess to possibly 90 years old stood next to the soda fountains looking up and offering a rapid-fire litany of commentary. An unidentified insect was evading contact in the ceiling tiles and fluorescent lights. Because cicadas have made their appearance, I assumed it was a cicada. I told the clerk to assume that the insect was actually a malevolent monster waiting to attack him. I also told him I had the Seek app to identify it if he would get up there on a ladder and yank it out. He spiritedly declined my solution.
The oldest lady in the group insisted that the insect hiding above us was a dragonfly. I told them all that because I have an advanced degree in zoology that I was certain it was one of the new venomous flying spiders that always accompanied the arrival of the cicadas. Much to my surprise, I could see that everyone who heard me was convinced that I knew what I was talking about. Their initial gullible reaction proves why conspiracy theories spread so easily on social media.
The point-of-sale system was down and displaying what amounted to hieroglyphics. Luckily I had a $5 bill. I told the clerk I would give him another $5 if he would stand on my back and stick his hand in the crevice to remove the insect. He gave me a look, one that said, “Ain’t no way in hell am I sticking my hand up there.”
Another couple entered the store. They both looked like the result of what happens when you don’t have enough sense to go to bed. They too looked confused at the gaggle of people in the store staring up at the ceiling.
As I reached my car, one of the women hollered that it indeed was a huge dragonfly. I think she told me that to scoff at my advanced degree in zoology.
I didn’t see it, of course. I much to prefer to imagine that it was indeed a venomous flying spider.
I hope the reminder of the day is equally tumultuous and chaotic. It’s not like I get to vote on the matter anyway.
X
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Nuts
6 Things
First, I took care of someone’s pets and they paid me in squirrel masks. I’m definitely a winner in this scenario.
B, I started to trim my beard and as I do all too often, I cut an unintended strip across my mustache and down my chin. I considered leaving it that way but ever since the cease and desist order, I have to be cautious. You can go Google it. Is this true? There’s only one way to know.
IX, I put a suit jacket on because I am feeling fancy. Not the Reba McEntire kind! (Even though inflation may bring me to that point.)
34, the confluence of accidentally scalping my face gave me an excuse to don a squirrel mask. Since I already enjoy climbing trees, it seems logical and wise for me to perhaps where this ensemble in an upcoming tree climb.
PS Don’t throw nuts at nuts.
X
M e
Whether you use the word weird, creative, or eccentric, it’s obvious to most people that I hit the target. It’s hard enough getting people surprises or gifts on traditional days. In my case, everyone knows that I much prefer random days for surprises. They also know that if the gift itself isn’t personal, the box, card, or the way I present it is definitely going to be. I don’t like the idea of a world without chalk, index cards, or random shenanigans. That includes sending clown noses, a custom picture of Doc Holliday, receiving a flutophone, or one of my favorite things in the world: prisms.
People forget that at one point I was decorating the envelopes I used to make my car payments. I didn’t know until much later that the car lot manager kept all of them on a wall. Assuming he’s still alive, I’m convinced he definitely remembers his unusual customer. I took the mundane necessity of making a car payment and made it a crazy memory, as well as an accidental art installation in a small car lot office.
The reason I explain all this is that sometimes I spend a great deal of effort and time making something unique. Overwhelmingly, people are delighted and truly surprised that I thought enough of them to make the attempt.
What consterns me are those times when my gifts or creations are misunderstood. It’s a lot like starting a conversation that’s difficult. You can’t control the other person’s reaction or the outcome.
Me not making or sending surprises to people isn’t in my nature. It’s like criticism when you sing or write something. You have to accept the criticism just like you do the praise or encouragement.
In a world inhabited by so many different people, it stands to reason that decorum, style, taste, and humor aren’t universal.
Some people reading this have been on the receiving end of things out of the blue. Some have received things from me anonymously. Others have been walking around Fayetteville and discovered literal eggs filled with surprises, pieces of art, or just about anything creativity might cook up.
My intention is to be me and create small moments. The fact that most people aren’t like me is truly independent of what I do or why.
I have a stack of red capes in my hall closet waiting for the right day when several of us are going to need some comedy and ridiculous adventure during an otherwise normal day. That should tell you all you need to know about me.
Love, X
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Chad
Am I the only person who has infrequent yet regular interactions with someone simply to pretend to be annoyed? A few weeks ago, a man in a blue sedan was going at least twice the speed limit down the hill toward the Scull Creek bridge. I had more than enough time to cross the street, so I did. The man in the car stopped very quickly considering the speed he was going. He backed up a little and put his window down. I will call him Chad. I calculate there is a 1 in 74 chance that is his actual name.
“Hey, you need to be more careful,” he hollered at me.
“I’m not sure that caution will help me with low flying blue aircraft like the one you are piloting.”
He couldn’t help himself. The irritation disappeared from his face. “Fair enough. You should use the crosswalk.”
“And you should watch for low power lines,” I fired back at him. Both of us were smiling at this point. He waved, put his window up, and sped away.
A couple of weeks ago, he saw me standing by the bridge. He slowed down and put down his passenger window.
“Still running your insurance scam?”
I laughed. “Yes, because your mom says I don’t make enough at my job to support us both.”
He laughed, waved, and drove away.
Today, I saw him coming from the other direction for once. He put down his window as he slowed. There was a car behind him.
“Mom asked me to tell you to bring home a loaf of bread on the way,” he said, obviously remembering my last joke.
Because of the car behind him, I didn’t want to hold him up so I gave him two thumbs up and laughed. He laughed too, as he drove away.
When we are firing back and forth at each other with commentary, it feels exactly like a hidden camera sitcom.
The interactions make me feel literal joy. Maybe because it all started with a flash of irritation. But now I’m on the hook for clever comebacks. I guess I’ll ask his mom while she is cooking us dinner tonight.
X
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A Memory of Pride
It wasn’t until today that I realized I was proud of my mom for at least one thing. She received her GED when she was quite old, and she didn’t do it to achieve a better career. The Brinkley School District employed her in environmental services. She is yet another person who proves that readers have an advantage over those who don’t.
She died younger than she needed to. Along those lines, I’ll pull out one of my favorite jokes and mention that after I told her congratulations for the GED, I asked her if she got angry when the photographer told her she couldn’t smoke while having the picture taken. If you’ve ever seen an industrial smokestack, you can join me in appreciating that she was a Chuck-Norris-level expert when smoking and cursing were involved, often simultaneously. Legend has it that she may have been a consultant to the dad on “A Christmas Story” to prepare for his role.
My sister Marsha, who is almost 60, posted about a newfound interest in perhaps taking some college courses. Those of you who know me know what I told her. In her post, someone I don’t know wrote, “Don’t waste your money.” That floored me. It’s the opposite of love or encouragement. Marsha had a tough life, hobbled by bad choices. But she finally gained sobriety, something that I was convinced was out of reach for her. I’m not proud to say that, but it’s best to water the garden of stories with truth and respect. Many in my family not only embrace addiction but make it their sole dance partner. Recently, Marsha talked about wanting to see the ocean. I couldn’t help but comment on her adult wish to fly, a wish she was granted when she started her journey into sobriety. Maybe she didn’t know it then because failure paints with a bitter brush and often washes away our ability even to try to stand up again.
Education is seldom wasted. Nor is self-discovery. Age does not magically wipe away the joy of discovering new things – especially about oneself. A person who expands their mind ignores the calendar. It’s more important than ever in our morphing world.
If someone expresses an interest in learning or discovery, no matter their age, it should be obvious that it is our job to enthusiastically encourage them at every opportunity.
Love, X
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¿
Feeling pretty. Might go ice skating later.
PS Lynette needed a reminder that every legitimate man needs a wig.
X
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Dancing In The Streets
Yesterday, I unintentionally scared the hell out of a pedestrian in a crosswalk. I was doing taxi service around 4:00, coming up the dreaded hill on Appleby. It bothered me today. She was obviously physically fit because she instinctively employed a combination of a windmill defense and a double time step inspired by bad ’80s music. What she didn’t know were two things. First, it was exactly at that point several years ago I was rear-ended and it totaled my car, after I had experienced the worst couple of weeks of my life. Second, yesterday a car behind me had been engaging in aggressive driving. After I made the right turn onto Appleby, I had foolishly hoped that he focused his attention on his next cave drawing. Instead, he had accelerated much too quickly behind me after making the same turn. There is no way he would have avoided hitting me if I hadn’t gassed my little vehicle very quickly. I made a turn with a wider arc to give myself just enough space to avoid the idiot behind me as well as not scaring the pedestrian. But I hadn’t accounted for her instinctive reaction. The cretin behind me sped up the hill on his way to whatever nonsense such people get involved in. All the pedestrian saw out of the corner of her eye was a little blue cloud of a car apparently heading toward her. I tried to wave an apology profusely but she was already making her way across the crosswalk shaking her head in disgust. Today it was back to normal and instead of worrying about somebody hitting me from behind I kept an eye on the vehicles coming down the hill at 70 mph. I wish I could apologize to the woman. And also congratulate her on both her dance moves and physical agility.
X
Purple Glasses Surprise
Purple Glasses
I just had an awesome interaction at the inconvenience store. There was a gentleman there talking to the clerk. I’ve seen him before. He turned to me and said he really liked my purple glasses. I just so happened to be wearing my purple-themed dashiki shirt as well. He said his wife would really like the glasses and that color. Without missing a beat, I took them off and offered to give them to him. He initially was very reluctant. But then he said he would love the color himself. So I took them off again and told him that I insisted. The clerk knows me and knew that I wasn’t offering them out of politeness. Because he had told me that he loved the color, I wanted him to have them. He wiped them off and put them on and then mugged for me and the clerk. He asked me, who gives away their glasses like that? He was smiling and laughing. We traded jokes about what his wife might think, especially if she saw them on the nightstand and assumed they were another woman’s glasses. He asked if he could have a picture with me, so I leaned in and smiled as he took our picture. The clerk watched and laughed. We stood there talking for a couple of more minutes. I told him the magnifications and where to get them without spending a fortune. He hadn’t realized that he was wearing the wrong magnification before. He was shocked that he realized that the pair I gave him would allow him to drive with them on as well. When I went to my car, I got my almost neon green ones and put them on. I went back inside so he could see that I did, in fact, have multiple colors. We all laughed again. At his age, it never had occurred to him that he might enjoy such a novelty color of purple glasses. But he certainly got a kick out of the pair I gave him. I might not be telling the story well, but it was a nice way to start my afternoon. Even laughing with strangers and bearing unexpected gifts.
Love, X
PS That’s me earlier in the picture. Since it’s April Fool’s Day, I alternated the Band-Aid on my forehead about every hour to see who might notice. And gave various explanations as to why I needed the Band-Air in the first place. You gotta keep’em guessing.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 