Things that make you laugh...

[Angry Floof]

...that are not images or videos.

Whatever random junk cracks you up - overheard conversations, comments on facebook, crazy stuff your kids and pets do, any old nonsense... this is the place for you to post it so we can all crack up.

I'll start.

As I was typing the above, I typo'd "poast" instead of "post." For some reason that cracked me up.

Also, funny sisters. Sister A is staying with Sister B and Sister A is now referring to Sister B as "Ursula" (as in Ursula the Sea Witch). lol

 

[Underseer]

I just watched a video review of a JRPG by Ben "Yahtzee" Croshaw in which he hilariously described the genre as "teenagers using the power of friendship to kill god."

As a fan of JRPGs, I can't believe I never noticed that before, but it is a bit of a cliche. The description made me snicker.

 

[Keith&Co.]

my son's girlfriend woke up this morning to cops on the front porch.

Turns out her mom keeps butt-dialing 911....

 

[Keith&Co.]

I'm getting laser surgery on my eye, again. Not to improve my vision, but to burn away problematic blood vessels at the back.
Which reminds me of my first time.
I only had vision in one eye, the retina had become detached in the other one. Surgery was scheduled, but i was bleeding and doc wanted to fix that.
Forty-eleven times, they said bring someone to drive you home. I was terrified that the laser treatment would be like a permanent after-image.
I drove there myself, the wife left work and met me at the clinic. We would come back the next day for my car.

There were 441 zaps into my left eye.
I got up and was amazed at how well i could see. A nurse offered to lead me out to the waiting room, but i was fine. I could see the walls, i could see the people, i could tell the difference between doors and walls and the mural. I was fine.
I went out into the waiting room, up to my wife's chair, and said i thought i was good to drive home.
She held up her hand and asked, "How many fingers am i holding up?"
I turned away from the frightened woman in the seat i'd left my wife in and said, "Oh! You're over THERE! .................Well, as long as you came down here, maybe you should drive."

 

[hurtinbuckaroo]

There were 441 zaps into my left eye.

Holy crap. I'd had enough when they used 50 to fix a detachment.

 

[Keith&Co.]

There were 441 zaps into my left eye.

Holy crap. I'd had enough when they used 50 to fix a detachment.

Did you hear that little 'pop' in your eye? The one that sounded like frying bacon sizzling, just only ONE snap?
Freaked me out the first thirty or forty times it happened....

 

[Keith&Co.]

So, when i fly, i take along a hand puppet. Artemis, the Skunk.
He's come in handy a few times, calming babies or toddlers on the plane who are just tired of being on the plane or in the terminal.
I got voted the most valuable passenger on one flight.

Anyway, Artemis stays in my room on business trips because i generally don't need to calm sailors down. And if i do, then beer works better than fluffy skunks.

Most trips, if i leave him in the bed, he's on top of the pillows when i return.

Two trips ago, the staff must have had a slow day. The bed was made, the towels changed and trash emptied... And Artemis was in a pillow fort. He had them piled up around him, one on top, but he had a clear view to the TV. And he had the remote. And a bag of chips (unopened).
Very cute.

 

[Loren Pechtel]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFztjgfDWDA

 

[Keith&Co.]

So i have three kids. Boys. Ages 20, 25 and 20.
I had a satori on an airplane some time ago. If a baby cries, it's not my problem. My kids were all in their teens and no grandchildren on the horizon.

It was a wonderfully freeing moment.

I don't have to try to figure if he's wet or if she's bored or if there's anything i can do to shut her the hell up.
I don't have to apologize to anyone else that the kid's high note is so high that it's only technically within human hearing because what you 'hear' is the echo of its affect upon your own spine.

It's just....noise. I can even make eye contact with other people while the baby cries. Sometimes i play with the puppet to calm them, but i don't HAVE to, you see? No one's going to think less of me as a parent for that baby crying.

So, on my last flight, there's a 9 month old who is not quite prepared to sit on one of two laps for five hours. He's certainly not in the mood to nap.

A couple hours into the flight, he's getting fractious and the dad apologizes to me. "Hey," I explained, "I have three. If he's not asking me for money or for a new phone, the screaming doesn't bother me."

 

[prideandfall]

yahtzee again, talking about skyrim's 'open world' aspects vs. needing to follow the plot:
"if you don't feel like it, you can walk 78 miles in the opposite direction, put a cooking pot over a dog's head, and swat at his knackers with a woodsman's axe until it howls itself deaf."

which is... so absurd and awesome of a turn of phrase.

 

[Keith&Co.]

Okay, so, one time in the off-crew offices of my first submarine, my LPO said it was time to go to training.
I said, "All in favor, say 'Sasquatch.'" And since there was really no option, half the division said, "Sasquatch."
For a while after that, I appended some commands ro suggestions with 'All in favor, say' and a random word.
When we went on patrol, i stopped waiting for a suggestion. I would just say, "All in favor, say 'Banana.'" And the division would duly say "Banana."
"Cumquat." "Vitiate." "Defenestration."
So, about six months of this. We turn the boat over to the other crew and go back to our offices. And the first day of our training period, i decided that i didn't want to be there. And at 0800 hours, i said, "All in favor, say 'Liberty.'" And the LPO said, "Liberty." So we filtered out of the office and went home. On Liberty.
The next day, he asked 'where did you guys all go?'
"Dude, you put down liberty!"
"When did i put down liberty?"
"When Keith said 'All in favor, say liberty.'"
And he automatically repeated 'Liberty.' When he turned around, we were gone.

Wednesday, he bodily blocked the door and told us that actually liberty did not go down until he formally and carefully intoned the code phrase: Alright, you motherfuckers can go on liberty, now.
Duly noted.

A few months after that, one of the guys finally noticed that i no longer asked anyone to say a word.
Hey, i'd already gotten two days off with it. That wasn't happening again.

 

[repoman]

crazy youtube comments:

Here is one..

"I have to stop shoving pickles up my ass, they will never turn back into cucumbers that way."

 

[Keith&Co.]

When i was in 12th grade, i spent one of my periods as a teacher's aide for 10th grade English. I wasn't quick in typing up worksheets, but i could grade her tests lickety split and i even found errors in her answer keys from time to time.
One day i walked into the classroom in the middle of a discussion and she spun. "Keith! What's the plural of moose?"
I had no idea. I made my eyes wide, looked left, looked right, and said "Holy Jesus there's a moose everywhere you look!"

- - - Updated - - -

crazy youtube comments:

Here is one..

"I have to stop shoving pickles up my ass, they will never turn back into cucumbers that way."

Well, yeah, pickles are the cucumber undead. Shriveled, odd colors, strange smells, and they show up when you're least prepared for them...

 

[Keith&Co.]

My son reports a highly intellectual exchange on one of his regular forums.
The debate had reached that point of the process where one participant had the clarity to point out, "Well, you're just a faggot who likes My Little Pony."
To which the other individual replied: "Well, you're just a faggot who DOESN'T like My Little Pony. What's your point?"

 

[Thomas II]

 

[Keith&Co.]

Because i was SOOOOO clean and pure as a teen, I only really have one drug story. I learned it when a bunch of missile techs took the Master At Arms course. We were there for the nightstick training, but had fun with the drug curricula and other parts.

Seems a Master at Arms was teaching a Drug Recognition course to some officers. He had a cigar box with three joints in it. They passed it around, with the instructions to crack it, sniff, and then open it to see what that smell was. This was so that as the officers toured their spaces, they might recognize the smell.

Anyway, it passes around once, and when it gets back to the instructor, it only had two joints in it.

'Ha ha. Very funny. Now, I'm going to pass it around again, and this time I want everything back.' Around it goes, comes back, now it has just one joint inside.

'This isn't funny. Everyone put your head down on the desk, when the box is passed to you, open it, put it back if you have it, close it, and pass it on. Keep your head on the desk so no one will see who has it.' Comes back with two joints.

'Dammit. Everyone into the hall.'. MAA goes down the hall, comes back with a German Shepherd and his partner. 'This is a drug dog. We're gonna do this one more time, then if the dog finds a joint on you, you're going to be arrested.' One at a time they went into the class, opened the box, closed it, came out again. MAA went into the classroom....and found five joints in the box.....

 

[Angry Floof]

hahaha!

 

[Keith&Co.]

Okay, so the patrol was winding down and the XO gave the watch sections a presentation on what the upcoming inspections were going to be.
Bored, my nothing i was bored.
Then he lost his place in his 5x7 cards and had to sort everything out. Lost control of the room. Little conversations pop up everywhere. They were talking sports at my table.
XO finally sorts his cards and looks up. MOST people see this and shut up.
So everything's quiet when i turn to my fellow watchstanders and make an off-the-cuff remark.

"I could be downloading amputee dwarf porn right now."
Dead silence. I turn back around to see the XO staring at me. I gave him permission to continue.

We get to port, turn over the boat, conduct the usual routines and finally, about a month or two later, i'm in the off-crew office when this A-ganger slides up next to me in the hall.
"I found that website."
I have NO idea what he's talking about. It was a meaningless throw-away remark. He hands me a folder. I open it up and try to make sense of the gray-scale screen capture of... Of a centaur? A Shetland pony centaur? With a saddle and a-? A?

His little smile was the worst. Like he'd finally found someone to share his interests with, a new friend who... Who screamed like a little girl: "OH MY GOD! IT'S REAL!"

 

[Angry Floof]

Keith, you tell the best stories.

What made me laugh just now was seeing a link shared on Facebook: "Seven Traits of Highly Magical People."

Of course I took it as satire. Wouldn't you? But no, it's not. It's shared by a couple of my bliss bunny type friends who, wonderful and intelligent folk they may be, probably got a nice big confirmation rush from the list of traits (such as having vivid dreams and high sexual energy).

http://www.mindreality.info/landing/facebook/secretsfb5.html

I started to answer the questions (Do you think you are magic? Yes, yes, of course I do! Yes, that's totally me!), but it makes you enter an email address to get your magical report so I didn't bother. I already know I'm magical anyway. And apparently, so do some of my Facebook friends! I think I'll start a facebook group just for us magical people.

 

[James Brown]

"What I don't understand about those pushing for school sponsored prayer is that they want their children to be taught about God by the same people they don't trust to teach math, science, and history."

Seen on another board.

 

[Keith&Co.]

I joined the Navy in an advanced electronics program, which included an early promotion. And i chose the AE program of Strategic Weapons, which included an early promotion. So by the middle of my first enlistment, i was an E-5 Petty Officer.
At the middle of my first enlistment, i was sent to a Tender. All the guys in my division had one or two tours, so we had 4 E-5s and 10 E-6's. No seamen, no seamen apprentices, no recruits. So when they called away a working party, my department tended to send fairly senior personnel compared to the E1s, E2s, E3s sent by every else.
So I got put in charge of a lot of working parties. And a lot of people kept asking, "Who'd you piss off?"

One of those rituals was the daily mail run. We would take all the official and personal mail from our command and the submarines alongside and transport them to a boat, which took them to the pier, where we exchanged them for that day's deliveries to the tender, the submarines, Squadron, etc.

Wasn't terribly complicated. I told everyone to start humping bags.
One sailor started to pick up one bag that held one registered letter. I stopped him and told him to take all the registered bags at once. One sailor picked up three bags that were too heavy before she found one that was 'just right.' I gave her another light but bulky package to take along.
AS IT HAPPENS the first slacker was the only black sailor in the working party.
AS IT HAPPENS, the second slacker was the only female on the working party.
I didn't care about race or gender, i just wanted the workers to work. These two took the loads i gave them to the boat but didn't come back. Everyone else made two or three trips. I pointed this out to the slackers and they grumbled and moved away.

One of my friends from a different division was also on the working party and overheard these two complaining about how i was bigoted against blacks and women in the Navy. "Oh, yeah," he said, egging them on. "You should put him on report. You should see how he treats the black guy in his division!"

The black guy in our division was an idiot of the first order. Treating him as an idiot was not properly called 'racism,' it was called 'paying attention.' I also treated the white idiot in our division like an idiot and for the exact same reason.

Anyway, they had to be 'encouraged' to take the loads up to the pier, and to take a fair share of loads from the truck back down to the boat.

We waited for the normal 1500 load of people traveling to the tender to load, then we started across. These two get their heads together with my friend, who has them whipped up into a frenzy of indignation. They are going to report my ass and see that i fry.

That's when they noticed that i'm talking to the mess decks master at arms for the 1600 to Midnight shift. The MDMAA is sitting very close to me and we talk softly.

She's a female sailor.

And she's black.

And one of the slackers asks aloud, 'Who is that he's talking to?'
Petey: "Huh? Her? Oh, she's his fiance. But anyway, you need to report him for singling you out. I mean, just because you're not pulling your fair share is no reason for him to treat you like you're on a working party, is it?" He really wanted to see me introduce my fiance at Captain's Mast. Jackass.

We tie up, the black seaman climbs OVER some of the boxes to grab this heavy crate and starts to drag it up the ladder. The female pushes a guy to the side to grab two boxes that felt like engine parts and staggers off under that load.

It was two days before Petey could tell me the full story, he kept busting out laughing.

 

[Thomas II]

 

[dendrast]

Okay, so the patrol was winding down and the XO gave the watch sections a presentation on what the upcoming inspections were going to be.
Bored, my nothing i was bored.
Then he lost his place in his 5x7 cards and had to sort everything out. Lost control of the room. Little conversations pop up everywhere. They were talking sports at my table.
XO finally sorts his cards and looks up. MOST people see this and shut up.
So everything's quiet when i turn to my fellow watchstanders and make an off-the-cuff remark.

"I could be downloading amputee dwarf porn right now."
Dead silence. I turn back around to see the XO staring at me. I gave him permission to continue.

We get to port, turn over the boat, conduct the usual routines and finally, about a month or two later, i'm in the off-crew office when this A-ganger slides up next to me in the hall.
"I found that website."
I have NO idea what he's talking about. It was a meaningless throw-away remark. He hands me a folder. I open it up and try to make sense of the gray-scale screen capture of... Of a centaur? A Shetland pony centaur? With a saddle and a-? A?

His little smile was the worst. Like he'd finally found someone to share his interests with, a new friend who... Who screamed like a little girl: "OH MY GOD! IT'S REAL!"

Tyrion? Is that you?

 

[Keith&Co.]

Kids are fun. Esp. when they let their guard down.
ESP. esp when they think they're ahead on points.

So, i mention having had lots of meetings at work last week that i had to attend, but had no contributoins to make and gained no new tasking from being there. A complete waste of time.
One kid asked me how i spent my time.
"Oh, mostly mentally undressing [my coworker] Chris."
"Would that be Christine?" he asks slyly, "Or Christopher?"
"Well, on Mondays and Wednesdays," I started to say, holding up my first and third finger.
"Never mind!" he shouts, running from the table.

 

[Keith&Co.]

I attended my son's graduation from Navy boot camp in Great Lakes.

Liberty goes down in waves. Some got to leave at the end of the ceremony, about 1100, some had to get indoctrinated for their new schools. So there were groups of families at the gate waiting from 1130 to 1700.

At one point, i was standing behind this little old lady. She was the perfect LOL. Central casting would think of her when anyone said 'we need a grandma for this scene.'
We watched a class come through the gate, running into the arms of parents, friends, girlfriends and wives.
My son wasn't in this wave nor was grandma's recruit. But watching people kiss and hug and grope, she turned to a teenaged girl standing next to her and asked: "So. Is he going to make it to the hotel room, you think, or is he going to fuck you in the back seat?"
"NANA!"

 

[Angry Floof]

A six year old rock star struggling to get his cool skinny jeans on.

 

[TV and credit cards]

I attended my son's graduation from Navy boot camp in Great Lakes

What school will he be attending?

****************

Here's something funny. You'll need an understanding of auto mechanics.
Nerds arguing suspension components
I love this. In true nerd fashion they do muck their way through and I must say are quite impressive after a time. But these are tier II nerds so they break down early on and devolve into name calling. Maybe it's just me. Maybe you have to be a non-nerd to appreciate this. ILMFAO

 

[dendrast]

I attended my son's graduation from Navy boot camp in Great Lakes

What school will he be attending?

****************

Here's something funny. You'll need an understanding of auto mechanics.
Nerds arguing suspension components
I love this. In true nerd fashion they do muck their way through and I must say are quite impressive after a time. But these are tier II nerds so they break down early on and devolve into name calling. Maybe it's just me. Maybe you have to be a non-nerd to appreciate this. ILMFAO

I'm glad they explained that. I thought a roll bar was a bagel buffet.

 

[Keith&Co.]

I attended my son's graduation from Navy boot camp in Great Lakes

What school will he be attending?

Basic SN... He's an undesignated Seaman. His A-school deal fell through after he got to Boot.

 

[TV and credit cards]

What school will he be attending?

Basic SN... He's an undesignated Seaman. His A-school deal fell through after he got to Boot.

Mine did to. My fault. There were six of us that were to be Crypto Techs and Intelligence Specialists. We went to interview for our security clearances. Four of us came out as undesignated Seamen. The dude doing the interviews was scary. Sad part was we all caved in the waiting room in front of the cute little receptionist. What a setup.
When I got to my first ship, I completed nearly every NEETS module on my own in the evenings. Went to the Striker Board and told them I wanted to be a Firecontrolman. Took them nine months to get me in to a school but it worked.
First Division was tough but I liked some of the work. Nothing like holding a mooring line and watching the water wring out out as it stretches. Lets you know your alive. Or being the brakeman when letting loose the anchor. Holy shit! Good memories.
Good luck to him.

 

[Keith&Co.]

Good luck to him.

Thanks.
I remember watching water squeeze out of the lines... And the shotgun snap as the thing parted... VIVID memories, certainly.

 

[James Brown]

Geez, you guys make me wish I could have made it into the Navy.

I was going to just join the Navy Reserves to supplement my income, but when I scored the max on the ASVAB I had recruiters coming at me from all sides. When they found out I had a college degree they started talking OCS. I took the OC exam and the recruiter said I scored the highest score he'd ever seen. (Yeah, he was a recruiter, so yeah he was probably lying, but still). They had me pegged for Intelligence, and I was really jazzed, working on my pushup limits and my mile time. Really looking forward to boot camp.

Then the medical guy said my estigmatism was too high and wouldn't let me pass the physical. This was 1997--in other words, in between wars--so I guess recruitment needs were lower then.

I can't help but wonder what if...

 

[Keith&Co.]

So my doctor retired. I got a different doc, in fact the woman who covered for him when i needed to be cleared for surgery on my detached retina.
I like her. Mostly. Not her timing though. That could be a teensy bit better.

She's worried about my blood pressure. It's taken some time, but I've FINALLY gotten her to stop mentioning that i need a colonoscopy WHILE she's taking my blood pressure. The numbers work better that way.
I complained about limited range of movement in my shoulder, she thought it might be a calcium deposit, so they took an x-ray.
She just called to say that the x-ray was clear...as far as the shoulder went, anyway. Physical therapy instead.

No, she mostly called to say they want to give me a CT scan because they saw a spot on my lung.
THEN she asks, "Are you having any respiratory problems?"
"I hadn't been," I wheezed...

 

[Keith&Co.]

My first dog was a cat killer. He was a pro.
He was a Scottish Terrier, and really thick-furred. Won every fight but two...

The first, he was sitting in the kitchen by my feet. Hot summer day, the doors were open, fans blowing... Someone went out the screen door and apparently a cat came inside.
Walked the length of the house to the kitchen. Streak was amazed. A Cat had the TEMERITY to enter his kingdom. The cat sneered at him and turned around. Streak started to run.
But he was so excited, he was only slipping on the linoleum. His claws going clackity-clack... Sounded like a typing class at the school. The cat's walking slowly away while Strek is making about 1 inch forward progress every minute. And whimpering. I could almost hear him saying, 'Oh, god, this is just like that dream!'
I didn't help because i didn't want him killing the cat in the house. But the cat finally goes out the front door just as Streak hits the edge of teh carpet. His claws pulled three loops of carpet right out of the material. And he shoots forwards like a black cruise missile.
TEARING down the living room, barking his head off, the cat is warned and runs out of sight. Streak bashes through the screen door and follows.
Then there's this horrendous howling a minute later.

I go out front to find that the cat ran up an oak tree in our front yard. It's about 10 feet up, hissing for all it's worth. Streak made it six feet up before he rememeberd that dogs can't climb trees. he's the one howling. But he's not howling for 'master come get me down.' I reach for him and he starts climbing up my arms. HE wanted me to push him further up the tree to catch the cat.

"NO!" I dragged him inside, where he plastered himself against the front window, barking to report every time the cat moved, and getting pissed that i didn't let him out when the cat reached the ground. He sulked for two days.


The other time he didn't win, a cat had gotten into our garage somehow. I was taking Streak out to the dogyard, when he finds himself nose to nose with a really suprised cat. Without hesitation, he grabbed the cat with his teeth and shook. Usually, this broke the cats' necks and the fight was over. He was surprised this time, though, and didn't get a good grip.
The one single shake actually threw the cat up into the air where it landed on a shelf and got a death grip on it.
Streak started strutting to the dog yard, having made the world safe yet again. As he got to the door, though, he realized that he never heard the cat land. He wanders back and starts looking around. He's too short to see over the fence and the cat's too scared to make any noise. It's a magical disappearing cat.
I couldn't lead him out to the yard, i had to get th eleash and drag him over the door sill, whining all the way. Then he threw himself against the door while i tried to rescue the damned cat. i got scratched twenty times or so, trying to save this damned thing, finally throwing it out of the garage, away from Streak's dogyard.
Streak sulked for three days after that. And he did notice that i smelled particularly catty that afternoon. I think he stole that shirt. I never found it on laundry day, nor ever saw it again. It's probably still nailed on the inside of that doghouse...

 

[gmbteach]

My first dog was a cat killer. He was a pro.
He was a Scottish Terrier, and really thick-furred. Won every fight but two...

The first, he was sitting in the kitchen by my feet. Hot summer day, the doors were open, fans blowing... Someone went out the screen door and apparently a cat came inside.
Walked the length of the house to the kitchen. Streak was amazed. A Cat had the TEMERITY to enter his kingdom. The cat sneered at him and turned around. Streak started to run.
But he was so excited, he was only slipping on the linoleum. His claws going clackity-clack... Sounded like a typing class at the school. The cat's walking slowly away while Strek is making about 1 inch forward progress every minute. And whimpering. I could almost hear him saying, 'Oh, god, this is just like that dream!'
I didn't help because i didn't want him killing the cat in the house. But the cat finally goes out the front door just as Streak hits the edge of teh carpet. His claws pulled three loops of carpet right out of the material. And he shoots forwards like a black cruise missile.
TEARING down the living room, barking his head off, the cat is warned and runs out of sight. Streak bashes through the screen door and follows.
Then there's this horrendous howling a minute later.

I go out front to find that the cat ran up an oak tree in our front yard. It's about 10 feet up, hissing for all it's worth. Streak made it six feet up before he rememeberd that dogs can't climb trees. he's the one howling. But he's not howling for 'master come get me down.' I reach for him and he starts climbing up my arms. HE wanted me to push him further up the tree to catch the cat.

"NO!" I dragged him inside, where he plastered himself against the front window, barking to report every time the cat moved, and getting pissed that i didn't let him out when the cat reached the ground. He sulked for two days.


The other time he didn't win, a cat had gotten into our garage somehow. I was taking Streak out to the dogyard, when he finds himself nose to nose with a really suprised cat. Without hesitation, he grabbed the cat with his teeth and shook. Usually, this broke the cats' necks and the fight was over. He was surprised this time, though, and didn't get a good grip.
The one single shake actually threw the cat up into the air where it landed on a shelf and got a death grip on it.
Streak started strutting to the dog yard, having made the world safe yet again. As he got to the door, though, he realized that he never heard the cat land. He wanders back and starts looking around. He's too short to see over the fence and the cat's too scared to make any noise. It's a magical disappearing cat.
I couldn't lead him out to the yard, i had to get th eleash and drag him over the door sill, whining all the way. Then he threw himself against the door while i tried to rescue the damned cat. i got scratched twenty times or so, trying to save this damned thing, finally throwing it out of the garage, away from Streak's dogyard.
Streak sulked for three days after that. And he did notice that i smelled particularly catty that afternoon. I think he stole that shirt. I never found it on laundry day, nor ever saw it again. It's probably still nailed on the inside of that doghouse...

Keith&Co, I, as a cat lover, hope these are stories and not necessarily true. We have taught all our dogs to respect the cats as I know Gizmo would love to do as Streak does, but we don't let him. (he gets bopped on the head if he gets in the cat's face)

 

[Keith&Co.]

We have taught all our dogs to respect the cats as I know Gizmo would love to do as Streak does, but we don't let him. (he gets bopped on the head if he gets in the cat's face)

My family background is Mormon/Catholic, so our dogs were raised to respect babies and toddlers more than anything else. There were oodles of them around the place. it was always baby season...

Neither Streak nor his predecessor, Duffy, would take a cookie from a baby. They would not look away from the cookie, or any other food held by the chubby little fingers. They'd follow the thing at a distance of about four microns, as it waved back and forth. Ears alert, eyes locked in place, breathing rapid. If the baby dropped food, it never actually fell. it certainly never touched the ground. But it was safe as long as it was in the baby's hands.

Once you could walk, all bets were off. All our dogs recognized that if you were able to walk, you were able to, and could reasonably be expected to, defend your own cookie. It was one of the first lessons in betrayal in all our young lives, figuring out that Duffy or Streak or Heather or Scamp, or Scamp II would take your cookie if you were the least bit inattentive...

The problem was those bouncy chairs, the ones that would hold a baby up so it would sort of pretend-walk around the place? Duffy had no problem, really. If you were walking in one of those things you were walking and that's all there was to it. Just be glad he left you all your fingers.
Streak recognized that babies that ONLY walked in the walker weren't really walkers. On the other hand, if they put their cookie down on the little shelf in front of them, they weren't actually holding it, either. So he'd come up on his hind paws to eat food out of the tray.
But quick. Because he was pretty sure that it was not technically against the rules, but he was also sure he'd be yelled at by SOME body. Probably a case of entrapment.
I remember watching him go to yank my cousin's cookie out of that tray, and just as his front paws rested on the walker, grandma saw and shouted 'Streak!' and he shoved off and ran to hide, and the shoving made the walker roll backwards across the room to hit the stereo which knocked a planter over and my cousin, Martin, was covered with soil and bits of flowers. After that Streak AND Martin were both afraid of the walker and would crawl away and hide if anyone brought it out....

 

[gmbteach]

We have taught all our dogs to respect the cats as I know Gizmo would love to do as Streak does, but we don't let him. (he gets bopped on the head if he gets in the cat's face)

My family background is Mormon/Catholic, so our dogs were raised to respect babies and toddlers more than anything else. There were oodles of them around the place. it was always baby season...

Neither Streak nor his predecessor, Duffy, would take a cookie from a baby. They would not look away from the cookie, or any other food held by the chubby little fingers. They'd follow the thing at a distance of about four microns, as it waved back and forth. Ears alert, eyes locked in place, breathing rapid. If the baby dropped food, it never actually fell. it certainly never touched the ground. But it was safe as long as it was in the baby's hands.

Once you could walk, all bets were off. All our dogs recognized that if you were able to walk, you were able to, and could reasonably be expected to, defend your own cookie. It was one of the first lessons in betrayal in all our young lives, figuring out that Duffy or Streak or Heather or Scamp, or Scamp II would take your cookie if you were the least bit inattentive...

The problem was those bouncy chairs, the ones that would hold a baby up so it would sort of pretend-walk around the place? Duffy had no problem, really. If you were walking in one of those things you were walking and that's all there was to it. Just be glad he left you all your fingers.
Streak recognized that babies that ONLY walked in the walker weren't really walkers. On the other hand, if they put their cookie down on the little shelf in front of them, they weren't actually holding it, either. So he'd come up on his hind paws to eat food out of the tray.
But quick. Because he was pretty sure that it was not technically against the rules, but he was also sure he'd be yelled at by SOME body. Probably a case of entrapment.
I remember watching him go to yank my cousin's cookie out of that tray, and just as his front paws rested on the walker, grandma saw and shouted 'Streak!' and he shoved off and ran to hide, and the shoving made the walker roll backwards across the room to hit the stereo which knocked a planter over and my cousin, Martin, was covered with soil and bits of flowers. After that Streak AND Martin were both afraid of the walker and would crawl away and hide if anyone brought it out....

Ahh Keith&Co, we should start a thread that is all about the funny things our furkids get up to.

Stripe and Gizmo will also follow you if you have food. Every forkful will be followed and they will hope that it falls to the floor or that it is too gristly for our consumption and so will be tossed to them.

Stew preparation time is the one time when all five furkids (canine and feline) come into the kitchen hoping for a morsel of meat. I am making stew today, I will try and get a picture of my cat begging for a bit of meat.

 

[Underseer]

A joke from Numerical Recipes in C:

Q: What is the difference between a scientist and a computer scientist?
A: A scientist is solving tomorrow's problems on yesterday's computer.

 

[Keith&Co.]

So I'm in a chat room with some people. One types 'you'll' when, I think, he means 'y'all.'

I ask if that's what he meant to say. I don't get a yes/no.
I get a long lecture about how in the new age of the internet, people don't care that much about spelling. It's a free-flowing exchange of ideas too fast for spellchecker, to free for dictionaries and too young for stupid shit like that.
And in the end he said, "You've been OWNED!"
I replied, "Thank the IPU you didn't say 'PWNED.' Unless that was a typo?"
My reply hit the screen an instant before he posted "I mean PWNED!"

"Oh. So you DO care about spelling. Then what was the rest of that shit about?"
<Bonehead has left the conversation>

 

[bilby]

So I'm in a chat room with some people. One types 'you'll' when, I think, he means 'y'all.'

I ask if that's what he meant to say. I don't get a yes/no.
I get a long lecture about how in the new age of the internet, people don't care that much about spelling. It's a free-flowing exchange of ideas too fast for spellchecker, to free for dictionaries and too young for stupid shit like that.
And in the end he said, "You've been OWNED!"
I replied, "Thank the IPU you didn't say 'PWNED.' Unless that was a typo?"
My reply hit the screen an instant before he posted "I mean PWNED!"

"Oh. So you DO care about spelling. Then what was the rest of that shit about?"
<Bonehead has left the conversation>

I think you will find that the correct spelling is 'yawl'. It is a kind of sailing vessel, like a ketch, but with the mizzen mast set farther aft. You're welcome.

 

[Keith&Co.]

I think you will find that the correct spelling is 'yawl'. It is a kind of sailing vessel, like a ketch, but with the mizzen mast set farther aft. You're welcome.

All my ships had 8 to 14 masts, but only one sail.

But i've seen bar fights start in Georgia over whether 'you all' could be used to denote a single person.

 

[gmbteach]

I think you will find that the correct spelling is 'yawl'. It is a kind of sailing vessel, like a ketch, but with the mizzen mast set farther aft. You're welcome.

All my ships had 8 to 14 masts, but only one sail.

But i've seen bar fights start in Georgia over whether 'you all' could be used to denote a single person.

Oh boy, my brother and I have been involved in a dispute for over 30 years over biscuits, so it can happen.

 

[bilby]

Targeted advertising at its best - LinkedIn just advised me that there is a job opening they think would be ideal for me; I must say I agree wholeheartedly, but somehow I suspect that Suncoast Christian College would not want me as their new Head of Science.

I reckon I could make a big impression there though.

 

[Keith&Co.]

I suspect that Suncoast Christian College would not want me as their new Head of Science.

I learned a long time ago that what people want and what they NEED are two different things.

 

[Keith&Co.]

So, my oldest child, who's now 25, was once 5yo. His brothers were each <1yo.
I let Oldest stay up late one night to watch Blazing Saddles. I thought he would enjoy the broader humor, like pretty much anything Mongo did.
I did warn him that there were certain bad words and that he shouldn't use them. He agreed. He even pointed out 'That's a bad word, daddy?' 'Yep.'

The next day, i dropped the kids off at Kindercare. Jacksonville was running an odd year-round school schedule experiment. Different schools closed for vacations at different times of the year. It worked out that Oldest was the only child of his age group that was no in school that day. So his class went off on the bus, he stayed and helped the teachers witih the other, younger classes.

So when i pull up that afternoon to take them home, the entire playground of four-year-olds ran up to the fence and shouted 'Where da white wimmin at?'
I couldn't kill Oldest right there on the spot because the director was apologizing to me about it, and not knowing who started it or WHERE they learned this, but she took full responsibility. I thanked her and ran...

 

[thebeave]

So, my oldest child, who's now 25, was once 5yo. His brothers were each <1yo.
I let Oldest stay up late one night to watch Blazing Saddles. I thought he would enjoy the broader humor, like pretty much anything Mongo did.
I did warn him that there were certain bad words and that he shouldn't use them. He agreed. He even pointed out 'That's a bad word, daddy?' 'Yep.'

The next day, i dropped the kids off at Kindercare. Jacksonville was running an odd year-round school schedule experiment. Different schools closed for vacations at different times of the year. It worked out that Oldest was the only child of his age group that was no in school that day. So his class went off on the bus, he stayed and helped the teachers witih the other, younger classes.

So when i pull up that afternoon to take them home, the entire playground of four-year-olds ran up to the fence and shouted 'Where da white wimmin at?'
I couldn't kill Oldest right there on the spot because the director was apologizing to me about it, and not knowing who started it or WHERE they learned this, but she took full responsibility. I thanked her and ran...

Good story! I love Blazing Saddles. Reminds me of when I went sledding with my 2 year old nephew one early December in Yosemite about 20 years ago. We went down a small hill together on a tobagon, and at the end, I (stupidly) said, "That was bitchin'!" Not a word I normally use, but it just popped in my head at the moment. And me being a bachelor and not having been exposed to kids much, underestimated the "sponge brain" of a 2 year old boy. Sure enough, at Christmas, he's opening packages in front of me, his mom, grandparents, uncles, etc and blurts out after opening one present, "Woah.... bitchin'!". Everyone starting laughing, and my sister sternly (and also somewhat embarrassed and laughing at the same time) asks him, "Where did you learn that word?!" He points at me and says, "Uncle James!" Who soon became "Uncle Mud" for the night.

 

[Keith&Co.]

Mine was four.
We drove down to pick up Mommy from work. i got cut-off on the freeway. I don't clearly remember it.
Picked her up, drove back, got cut-off once more. "MORON!" I shouted.
"No, Daddy, He's a sock-fucking bastard," the helpful soul in the back seat corrects me. FOR SOME REASON, the wife looks straight at ME.
"Man," i say, "the things he picks up at day care...."
"The Baptists don't tend to use submariner swear words."
"They will after tomorrow," I said, not improving my lot in life to the slightest degree....

 

[Veritass]

Background: I live in Orange County, California, which is about the whitest place you can live, and we are white.

When my boys were about four and five, they were riding in the cart as I left the grocery store. We had been watching a Los Angeles Lakers game earlier on TV, so as the cart went past two African-American teenage boys, one points and calls out, "Look, Daddy! There's some basketball players!"

 

[hyzer]

One night at dinner my 8 year old starts trotting out "yo' Mama" jokes he has picked up somewhere. I say, sternly, "young man, those jokes might be appropriate at recess, but not at the table with your Mother." The next day I get a call from the school, seems that my son has been involved in a fight with another boy during recess . . . .

 

[another1]

I've been wondering for decades what the fuck "wtf means" but was afraid to ask someone.