I am a parent's biggest dream and biggest nightmare. That makes me sound like some sort of super-wealthy child molestor with an early 20th century English accent and a cane: "I'll pay you one meee-llion dollars for one night with your child!"
That, of course, is not what I'm talking about. Here's what I'm talking about:
I am the King of All Children.
I'm not just their king. I am their earthly deity. For some reason, kids between the ages of 0 and 10 think I am the greatest freaking guy of all time. They think I am so cool. It doesn't matter if I am actually interacting with them or ignoring the hell out of them, they will follow me around and beg me to play every silly game imaginable on earth. I have some sort of magnetic presence that makes kids so hyper that you'd think they snorted 5 or 6 lines of Pixy Styx and mistook the Robitussin for Kool-Aid again.
They give me new names. They make me play impromptu games that they are inventing as they go along. They hand me musical instruments that I don't know how to play, and beg me to create songs. They even insist that I pick them up and throw them into things that aren't safe to be thrown into.
I know you think, "Oh yeah, Kids make me play with them, too." And I'm sure they do. But not to the degree that they harrass me. I don't even have my own kids. But damn, when somebody throws a family party full of people my age and a bunch of kids, my girlfriend has to explain to any of the adults we've never met, "Look, Roth Wriscey is not going to be able to talk to any of you much tonight. It's not his fault. He's like the Elvis of children. He could try to run from them, but they'll only tackle him. If you get more than one minute to speak to him tonight, you'll be lucky. He can't tell them to go away. They won't. You can't even tell them to go away, AND THEIR YOUR KIDS!"
And they never really believe her until about half-way through any party. And that's great. Because for the first half of the party, those parents always give me these boring tired-out jokes like, "Hey, if you're gonna wind up my kids, you should have to take care of them tonight when they won't go to bed." Sure, they sort of laugh, but they're really irritated with me. I try to explain to them that I don't have a choice: That the little girls are going to make me spin in circles with them, learn hand-slap games and let them climb me like a jungle-gym. And that the boys are going to shoot me with imaginary machine guns, throw every damn toy on earth at me and punch me in the nuts. I don't stir them up on purpose. I could never even acknowledge the existence of these children and they'd still think I'm the coolest guy of all time and scream their lungs out in my honor. I know I can't stop them. I've tried! So I've learned to just accept my role on earth as a real-life SpongeBob SquarePants and enjoy it.
Get this, I am not allowed to go to my girlfriend's house between 6 p.m. and 8:30. Why? Because she lives at her best friend's house. And her best friend has a 7 year old girl and a 4 year old boy. They love me so much, I could talk them into killing you. (Yes, you, you reading this.) And those kids don't even know you. And they can't drive. But if I asked them to do it. They'd google your address and steal their mom's keys and stop at a gun shop along the way to finish you off. All because I said to. They also think my name is "Mr. Potato Head." And Mr. Potato Head here had to ban himself from visiting his girlfriend during those hours of the evening, because that's when those two disciples of Mr. Potato are supposed to eat dinner and go to sleep. And if I even set foot in that house and try to walk straight to my girlfriend's room - Yeah, that'll be the day! When I do that, those kids run up and latch on to each side of me and beg me to eat their food. Not because they don't like the food, but because they think it would be so cool if Mr. Potato Head honored them by eating something that once touched their plate! Yes, they think I'm that cool. And once I'm there, those kids won't eat or go to bed no matter how much their poor mother threatens the life out of them.
So just know this: If I'm ever at a party and get your kids so wound up they won't go to bed after you get home, just remember one little thing. You got to have fun at a party full of adults for the first time, without being constantly interrupted by the taps of your kids telling you that so-and-so called them a name. They didn't bother you at all. They were too busy punching me in the nuts. You're welcome
Friday, May 7, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
You, get off the stage. You, get on the stage.
I did stand-up tonight for the first time ever while sober. I thought I'd be all like "Wow, I'm so much better sober!" Or maybe, "Wow, I'm better at this drunk!" No, it's entirely the same. And I'm entirely the same guy.
I didn't get into a habit of doing comedy drunk because I needed alcohol for courage. It just happens to be staged at a bar, and I lived down the street from that bar and could walk home. So getting drunk was just easy. Now that I live 25 minutes away from the club, getting drunk is not an option. But being funny was just as easy. I'm not saying I'm great. But I'm self-aware enough to know I can tell a dick joke and usually get the reaction I intended. That being said, let's get away from me and get to the others. Here's some crap I hate about the comedy club on each and every open-mic night.
First off, a lot of these guys who perform every week sit at the bar while the other comedians are performing, and they hold a pencil and stare at a paper and scribble over their own comedy notes. They had a freakin' week to prepare! If you feel the need to bring a Number 2 and yellow pad, then you shouldn't feel the need to get up on stage. You're not ready. And besides, it's just downright rude to be staring at a paper full of your own ideas, while ignoring a colleague who is making a fool of himself on a stage 20 feet away. In fact, I time my smoke breaks and piss breaks around guys who do this. If they can't watch some other guy, I can't watch them.
I also cannot stand these nerds who work their act out on me without my permission, while I'm sitting at the bar trying to drink and watch the guy on the real stage. I don't do that to my friends. Don't do it to me. I can understand running a joke by someone to see if it bounces; but to actually perform your act like you're on the stage to me, when you're not on the stage, and some other guy actually is, is fucked up. And I certainly wouldn't do it to other comics... especially while at the comedy club! That's like a musician singing a song to another musician in his dressing room, when the other guy didn't ask. Gay. Cut that shit out. Plus, my fake laughs are obviously fake. Don't make it awkward for both of us.
About half of these dorks base their whole routine around how they can't get girls. Let me tell you: if you can't get girls, then I can promise you one thing: you're not funny. It's a myth that funny guys don't get laid. Funny guys get laid all the damn time. In fact, some only ever get girls because their ugly ass is hilarious. Maybe they don't plow every girl on earth, but by at least some girls on earth. Give some ladies some credit: some of them are ready to wiggle, just so long as you make'em giggle. So if you really can't ever once land a woman, then get off the stage.
The other half of these dorks base their whole routine about how much pussy they get. That's even less funny than a guy who talks about how he perpetually strikes out. No one finds a guy funny who is up there talking about random girls. Don't get me wrong: dirty can be funny. I'm always dirty. But a guy who gets up there acting like a conquestor of coochies is boring. Not just to me, to everyone. The guys that do this are actually usually pretty good looking guys. They should realize that is why they get laid. Not because of their stagecraft. Get off the stage, you unfunny Adonis.
Some of these tards get up there every week and do the same five minute routine. Look, if you make a living at this, or are trying to perfect your act, I can understand that. But, if you're gonna do that, shop that shit around to different clubs. Don't do it to the same audience at the same club, every seven days. If you ignore my advice and still do, 1/3 of the people will step outside to smoke, another 1/3 will sit there and ignore you, and the other 1/3 will fakely polite-laugh. If you have lived your entire life and can only find five funny minutes of your existence to talk about, please get off the stage.
Now, by my bitching, you'd think I'm a rude asshole to other comics who struts around the place like I'm some big shit. Not at all. I'm actually one of the nicest people there. And I know I'm not big shit. I mean, it's jokes, man. Jokes. There's no need to be petty. I only ever compliment the other guys or keep my mouth shut if they blew chodes. But some of them, some of them, are catty little girls. If you do well, they will ignore the shit out of you or even try to make you feel unwelcome at the club. They do this to me all the time. I've even been shoved by other comics who acted like they didn't know they were doing it. How silly. I want all these dumbasses to do well. But many of them think that if one guy does well, that will dig into their own success. Not true. And if you think that, well, I won't ask you to get off the stage, since some of the petty little bitch boys are actually the funnier ones. But seriously, grow up and cut that junior high shit out.
The final person I hate is the guy who week-in and week-out tells me how good he'd do if he got up there. Fine, I believe you. (Not really.) Some non-performers show up every week and brag about how great they would be if they ever felt the need to share their fucking amazing observations. To these over-confidant armchair-comedians, I beg you: Please get on the stage.
I didn't get into a habit of doing comedy drunk because I needed alcohol for courage. It just happens to be staged at a bar, and I lived down the street from that bar and could walk home. So getting drunk was just easy. Now that I live 25 minutes away from the club, getting drunk is not an option. But being funny was just as easy. I'm not saying I'm great. But I'm self-aware enough to know I can tell a dick joke and usually get the reaction I intended. That being said, let's get away from me and get to the others. Here's some crap I hate about the comedy club on each and every open-mic night.
First off, a lot of these guys who perform every week sit at the bar while the other comedians are performing, and they hold a pencil and stare at a paper and scribble over their own comedy notes. They had a freakin' week to prepare! If you feel the need to bring a Number 2 and yellow pad, then you shouldn't feel the need to get up on stage. You're not ready. And besides, it's just downright rude to be staring at a paper full of your own ideas, while ignoring a colleague who is making a fool of himself on a stage 20 feet away. In fact, I time my smoke breaks and piss breaks around guys who do this. If they can't watch some other guy, I can't watch them.
I also cannot stand these nerds who work their act out on me without my permission, while I'm sitting at the bar trying to drink and watch the guy on the real stage. I don't do that to my friends. Don't do it to me. I can understand running a joke by someone to see if it bounces; but to actually perform your act like you're on the stage to me, when you're not on the stage, and some other guy actually is, is fucked up. And I certainly wouldn't do it to other comics... especially while at the comedy club! That's like a musician singing a song to another musician in his dressing room, when the other guy didn't ask. Gay. Cut that shit out. Plus, my fake laughs are obviously fake. Don't make it awkward for both of us.
About half of these dorks base their whole routine around how they can't get girls. Let me tell you: if you can't get girls, then I can promise you one thing: you're not funny. It's a myth that funny guys don't get laid. Funny guys get laid all the damn time. In fact, some only ever get girls because their ugly ass is hilarious. Maybe they don't plow every girl on earth, but by at least some girls on earth. Give some ladies some credit: some of them are ready to wiggle, just so long as you make'em giggle. So if you really can't ever once land a woman, then get off the stage.
The other half of these dorks base their whole routine about how much pussy they get. That's even less funny than a guy who talks about how he perpetually strikes out. No one finds a guy funny who is up there talking about random girls. Don't get me wrong: dirty can be funny. I'm always dirty. But a guy who gets up there acting like a conquestor of coochies is boring. Not just to me, to everyone. The guys that do this are actually usually pretty good looking guys. They should realize that is why they get laid. Not because of their stagecraft. Get off the stage, you unfunny Adonis.
Some of these tards get up there every week and do the same five minute routine. Look, if you make a living at this, or are trying to perfect your act, I can understand that. But, if you're gonna do that, shop that shit around to different clubs. Don't do it to the same audience at the same club, every seven days. If you ignore my advice and still do, 1/3 of the people will step outside to smoke, another 1/3 will sit there and ignore you, and the other 1/3 will fakely polite-laugh. If you have lived your entire life and can only find five funny minutes of your existence to talk about, please get off the stage.
Now, by my bitching, you'd think I'm a rude asshole to other comics who struts around the place like I'm some big shit. Not at all. I'm actually one of the nicest people there. And I know I'm not big shit. I mean, it's jokes, man. Jokes. There's no need to be petty. I only ever compliment the other guys or keep my mouth shut if they blew chodes. But some of them, some of them, are catty little girls. If you do well, they will ignore the shit out of you or even try to make you feel unwelcome at the club. They do this to me all the time. I've even been shoved by other comics who acted like they didn't know they were doing it. How silly. I want all these dumbasses to do well. But many of them think that if one guy does well, that will dig into their own success. Not true. And if you think that, well, I won't ask you to get off the stage, since some of the petty little bitch boys are actually the funnier ones. But seriously, grow up and cut that junior high shit out.
The final person I hate is the guy who week-in and week-out tells me how good he'd do if he got up there. Fine, I believe you. (Not really.) Some non-performers show up every week and brag about how great they would be if they ever felt the need to share their fucking amazing observations. To these over-confidant armchair-comedians, I beg you: Please get on the stage.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Blowing Blows.
New Post: The entire story is fictional. Totally fictional. So let's just go with that one, okay? Otherwise, I'm not writing the shit.
A certain dumbass went to the Down/Melvins show back in September. The show took place in Myrtle Beach 1.5 hours from the dumbass's home in Wilmington, North Carolina. Due to the fact that he lived in a tourist town, Dumbass forgot that this was a holiday weekend. Shit - every weekend is a holiday weekend in Wilmington. Dumbass also forgot that the authorities announced they'd be doing DWI checkpoints all over the area.
So the show was great. It was great because Down rules, the Melvins rules, and Dumbass drank about 2 vodka tonics and 7 Miller Lites in three hours. The amazing thing about this dumbass is that he can drink a lot and not become legally drunk. (Two or three police tests over a lifetime have proved his incredible alcohol processing abilities.) Unfortunately, this streak of incredible metabolism was going to come to an end... by a hair.
Dumbass and his co-hort, Girl Who Knows She's Always Safe When He's In Control Of Anything Including A Car, saw a checkpoint at the state line. They dodged it. Unfortunately, another tinier, po-dunkier town was running a separate checkpoint. Dumbass wisely tried to turn around and hide at the Food Lion, but a more pussified citizen got behind him and wouldn't agree to turn around as well. This forced dumbass to go through the checkpoint.
Dumbass was the last person to get arrested. And arrested he was! And the chivalrous cops packed up and left the girl sitting alone in a dark parking lot in the woods by herself! Real men. Who wouldn't leave a skinny young blond girl in a skirt and tank top all alone locked out of a car and refuse her a ride to a safe place?
Dumbass doesn't regret driving. Dumbass regrets getting caught. The world was not spared an unsafe person that night. He even told law enforcement he could do backflips during their stupid test that he was ace-ing, despite the fact that he had never done a back flip in his life. Despite his bravado, Dumbass was charged with being .01 over the limit. (An amount that used to be legal to drive under.)
Fast forward 7 months later.
At court date 3, Dumbass's Attorney said to him, "You know that female officer that wrecked her car hot-dogging at 100 mph when she was trying to race her fellow officers who were on duty about two months ago?"
Dumbass said he was familiar with the woman.
The well-connected Southern Attorney said, "Since she administered your blood test, and now she's out with serious injuries and probably has lost her police career, I'm going to ask for a dismissal."
Dumbass said, "A woman never tested me. A big fat guy did."
The Attorney said, "Yes, she did."
Dumbass privately asked his passenger (who came to court) if she remembered the woman giving him a test. She said, "The only woman there that night was me. A big fat guy tested you."
Then dumbass realized that his attorney had a scheme that he needed to not sabatoge. Dumbass also noticed that the other officer in the case had suddenly disappeared from court... for the day. He said he "had a meeting he forgot about." And then the judge made jokes about the female officer's driving skills and dismissed the case while everyone in the court laughed (except the lone female officer who barked out defenses of the woman.)
Then dumbass realized that his expensive attorney's fees were being spread around. Thank God that some officer who couldn't drive and wasn't there to testify was the convenient excuse for everyone in the court system to distribute dumbass's money to each other and let him go free.
Acquitted and enlightened. Dumbass will never again bitch about dirty attorneys - they'll keep you clean.
A certain dumbass went to the Down/Melvins show back in September. The show took place in Myrtle Beach 1.5 hours from the dumbass's home in Wilmington, North Carolina. Due to the fact that he lived in a tourist town, Dumbass forgot that this was a holiday weekend. Shit - every weekend is a holiday weekend in Wilmington. Dumbass also forgot that the authorities announced they'd be doing DWI checkpoints all over the area.
So the show was great. It was great because Down rules, the Melvins rules, and Dumbass drank about 2 vodka tonics and 7 Miller Lites in three hours. The amazing thing about this dumbass is that he can drink a lot and not become legally drunk. (Two or three police tests over a lifetime have proved his incredible alcohol processing abilities.) Unfortunately, this streak of incredible metabolism was going to come to an end... by a hair.
Dumbass and his co-hort, Girl Who Knows She's Always Safe When He's In Control Of Anything Including A Car, saw a checkpoint at the state line. They dodged it. Unfortunately, another tinier, po-dunkier town was running a separate checkpoint. Dumbass wisely tried to turn around and hide at the Food Lion, but a more pussified citizen got behind him and wouldn't agree to turn around as well. This forced dumbass to go through the checkpoint.
Dumbass was the last person to get arrested. And arrested he was! And the chivalrous cops packed up and left the girl sitting alone in a dark parking lot in the woods by herself! Real men. Who wouldn't leave a skinny young blond girl in a skirt and tank top all alone locked out of a car and refuse her a ride to a safe place?
Dumbass doesn't regret driving. Dumbass regrets getting caught. The world was not spared an unsafe person that night. He even told law enforcement he could do backflips during their stupid test that he was ace-ing, despite the fact that he had never done a back flip in his life. Despite his bravado, Dumbass was charged with being .01 over the limit. (An amount that used to be legal to drive under.)
Fast forward 7 months later.
At court date 3, Dumbass's Attorney said to him, "You know that female officer that wrecked her car hot-dogging at 100 mph when she was trying to race her fellow officers who were on duty about two months ago?"
Dumbass said he was familiar with the woman.
The well-connected Southern Attorney said, "Since she administered your blood test, and now she's out with serious injuries and probably has lost her police career, I'm going to ask for a dismissal."
Dumbass said, "A woman never tested me. A big fat guy did."
The Attorney said, "Yes, she did."
Dumbass privately asked his passenger (who came to court) if she remembered the woman giving him a test. She said, "The only woman there that night was me. A big fat guy tested you."
Then dumbass realized that his attorney had a scheme that he needed to not sabatoge. Dumbass also noticed that the other officer in the case had suddenly disappeared from court... for the day. He said he "had a meeting he forgot about." And then the judge made jokes about the female officer's driving skills and dismissed the case while everyone in the court laughed (except the lone female officer who barked out defenses of the woman.)
Then dumbass realized that his expensive attorney's fees were being spread around. Thank God that some officer who couldn't drive and wasn't there to testify was the convenient excuse for everyone in the court system to distribute dumbass's money to each other and let him go free.
Acquitted and enlightened. Dumbass will never again bitch about dirty attorneys - they'll keep you clean.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
article 2.
Trust no one today, no one. If you are reading our weekly edition of the Topsail Advertiser on the first day it comes out (Thursday,) then you are likely to avoid tragedy. If you are reading this after Thursday, then we are so sorry for what may have happened to you. Before I tell you why you need to trust no one today, let me tell you what happened to some other people who ignored the warning of the day.
The things that can happen you today can range from the mildly inconvenient situation to the most embarassing debacle. Every year on a day like today, a local woman named Mindy asks her husband, Baxter, to fix her a glass of water. But when Baxter turns on the faucet to fill up the cup, the nozzle doesn't pour water into the cup, it instead sprays water all over Baxter's shirt and face. Inexplicably, a piece of plastic-wrap taped over part of the spiggot had caused the drenching. But no one is sure why. All that is known is that things like this happen on this particular day.
Water-faucets accidents are just tip of the iceberg when it comes to bad things that can happen to you today. One time, my friend Yvonne ran into the bedroom of her older sister, who was sleeping, and yelled, "The house is on fire!" Since her sister wasn't wearing clothes she wrapped herself only in a towel and ran out wearing next to nothing. But the house turned out not to be on fire! And the neighbors were actually in a good mood, since they were laughing at the poor girl that was now standing in the front yard nearly naked. Why would Yvonne say the house was on fire when it wasn't? Nobody knows. All that is known is that things like this always seems to happen on days like today.
When I tell you to trust no one today, I don't just mean people you encounter in person. I mean people that call you on the phone, people that you hear on the radio, or even people that write articles in publications. On a day like today, individuals aren't the only ones that can fall victim to the strange phenomenon that is today, sometimes large portions of the public can have an unfortunate incident. You may remember an article written in Sports Illustrated in 1985 (on a day much like today) about a baseball player named Sidd Finch. The article claimed that the previously unheard-of New York Mets pitcher could throw a baseball almost 170 miles an hour. This excited several of the most skeptical people on Earth: New Yorkers. Still, the day would win again, when for some reason, it was revealed that not only could Sidd Finch not throw a baseball that fast - Sidd Finch wasn't even a real person. No one knows why such things happen on a day like today; but if you'd like to hear more about why you need to trust no one today, come out the annual Topsail Island April Fool's Day Parade and I'll explain it to you. The parade starts at 4 p.m. at the Surf City Community Center. See you then.
The things that can happen you today can range from the mildly inconvenient situation to the most embarassing debacle. Every year on a day like today, a local woman named Mindy asks her husband, Baxter, to fix her a glass of water. But when Baxter turns on the faucet to fill up the cup, the nozzle doesn't pour water into the cup, it instead sprays water all over Baxter's shirt and face. Inexplicably, a piece of plastic-wrap taped over part of the spiggot had caused the drenching. But no one is sure why. All that is known is that things like this happen on this particular day.
Water-faucets accidents are just tip of the iceberg when it comes to bad things that can happen to you today. One time, my friend Yvonne ran into the bedroom of her older sister, who was sleeping, and yelled, "The house is on fire!" Since her sister wasn't wearing clothes she wrapped herself only in a towel and ran out wearing next to nothing. But the house turned out not to be on fire! And the neighbors were actually in a good mood, since they were laughing at the poor girl that was now standing in the front yard nearly naked. Why would Yvonne say the house was on fire when it wasn't? Nobody knows. All that is known is that things like this always seems to happen on days like today.
When I tell you to trust no one today, I don't just mean people you encounter in person. I mean people that call you on the phone, people that you hear on the radio, or even people that write articles in publications. On a day like today, individuals aren't the only ones that can fall victim to the strange phenomenon that is today, sometimes large portions of the public can have an unfortunate incident. You may remember an article written in Sports Illustrated in 1985 (on a day much like today) about a baseball player named Sidd Finch. The article claimed that the previously unheard-of New York Mets pitcher could throw a baseball almost 170 miles an hour. This excited several of the most skeptical people on Earth: New Yorkers. Still, the day would win again, when for some reason, it was revealed that not only could Sidd Finch not throw a baseball that fast - Sidd Finch wasn't even a real person. No one knows why such things happen on a day like today; but if you'd like to hear more about why you need to trust no one today, come out the annual Topsail Island April Fool's Day Parade and I'll explain it to you. The parade starts at 4 p.m. at the Surf City Community Center. See you then.
newspaper article incomplete
My word perfect is broken so I'm just writing on this program and saving it from time to time so I don't lose it. It's a terrible article I'm throwing together at the last minute for my newspaper, so please disregard it.
This Sunday, thousands of people in Topsail, and millions around the world, will be celebrating Easter. The holiday will be begin with sunrise services for some, and visits from the Easter bunny for others. Some families will be remembering Jesus dying on the cross and his subsequent resurrection, while others will be dying Easter eggs and hiding them in the backyard. For many, the day will consist of a little bit of both. The following is a fun quiz with a variety of trivia questions spanning the topic of Easter.
1. Most people may remember that Linus, the Peanuts character, had a strong belief in "The Great Pumpkin," in an animated holiday special, but do you remember the person he spoke of during a Peanuts Easter special. Was it:
a) The Easter Beagle
b) The Little Redheaded Bunny
c) The Great Sleeping Peep
d) Mr. Hanky The Easter Present
2. It was an passover tradition for Pontius Pilate to free one prisoner during passover. Instead of freeing Jesus, who did he choose to set free?
a) Barnabas
b) Barabbas
c) Hanna Barbara
d) Barney Frank
3. The White House Easter Egg Roll is held each year on which day?
a) Ash Wednesday
b) Good Friday
c) Easter Monday
d) Two-fer Tuesday
4. Not all denominational organizations officially celebrate the Easter holiday. One if the following groups does not. Which one is it?
a) Presbyterians
b) Southern Baptists
c) Methodists
d) The Religious Society of Friends (also known as Quakers)
5. The Cadbury Bunny is a bunny that has been used in commercials advertising Cadbury Creme Eggs for decades. Which animal does the bunny make sounds like?
a) A chicken
b) A bunny (Duh, he's a bunny!)
c) A rooster
d) A tortoise
6. Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus by turning him over to the Romans for 30 pieces of silver. How did he spend it?
a) He had a temple constructed in honor of himself.
b) He threw it away.
c) He bought a donkey.
d) He donated it to an orphanage.
7. Sugar, Corn Syrup, Gelatin and Carnauba are the main ingredients in what.
a) Chocolate Bunnies
b) Vanilla Bunnies
c) Peeps
d) Something I never want to eat.
8. Who rolled back the large stone covering Jesus' tomb?
a) Peter and Paul
b) Mary Magdelene
c) Atlas
d) An Angel
We here at the Topsail Advertiser wish everyone on Topsail Island a fun and fulfilling Easter. Please check our Church Announcements section on page ? for information on local Easter-related events. Happy Easter!
The answers are as follows: 1-a, 2-b, 3-c, 4-d, 5-a, 6-b, 7-c, 8-d.
This Sunday, thousands of people in Topsail, and millions around the world, will be celebrating Easter. The holiday will be begin with sunrise services for some, and visits from the Easter bunny for others. Some families will be remembering Jesus dying on the cross and his subsequent resurrection, while others will be dying Easter eggs and hiding them in the backyard. For many, the day will consist of a little bit of both. The following is a fun quiz with a variety of trivia questions spanning the topic of Easter.
1. Most people may remember that Linus, the Peanuts character, had a strong belief in "The Great Pumpkin," in an animated holiday special, but do you remember the person he spoke of during a Peanuts Easter special. Was it:
a) The Easter Beagle
b) The Little Redheaded Bunny
c) The Great Sleeping Peep
d) Mr. Hanky The Easter Present
2. It was an passover tradition for Pontius Pilate to free one prisoner during passover. Instead of freeing Jesus, who did he choose to set free?
a) Barnabas
b) Barabbas
c) Hanna Barbara
d) Barney Frank
3. The White House Easter Egg Roll is held each year on which day?
a) Ash Wednesday
b) Good Friday
c) Easter Monday
d) Two-fer Tuesday
4. Not all denominational organizations officially celebrate the Easter holiday. One if the following groups does not. Which one is it?
a) Presbyterians
b) Southern Baptists
c) Methodists
d) The Religious Society of Friends (also known as Quakers)
5. The Cadbury Bunny is a bunny that has been used in commercials advertising Cadbury Creme Eggs for decades. Which animal does the bunny make sounds like?
a) A chicken
b) A bunny (Duh, he's a bunny!)
c) A rooster
d) A tortoise
6. Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus by turning him over to the Romans for 30 pieces of silver. How did he spend it?
a) He had a temple constructed in honor of himself.
b) He threw it away.
c) He bought a donkey.
d) He donated it to an orphanage.
7. Sugar, Corn Syrup, Gelatin and Carnauba are the main ingredients in what.
a) Chocolate Bunnies
b) Vanilla Bunnies
c) Peeps
d) Something I never want to eat.
8. Who rolled back the large stone covering Jesus' tomb?
a) Peter and Paul
b) Mary Magdelene
c) Atlas
d) An Angel
We here at the Topsail Advertiser wish everyone on Topsail Island a fun and fulfilling Easter. Please check our Church Announcements section on page ? for information on local Easter-related events. Happy Easter!
The answers are as follows: 1-a, 2-b, 3-c, 4-d, 5-a, 6-b, 7-c, 8-d.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
We're Fucked Because We Are Fun (Or "Fun King, deal with it.")
I wish I could be so good at something that I could be as amusing of a motherfucker as Axl Rose. Then again, I could never pull an "Axl." Don't get me wrong, I can be a dick, but only when being a dick is justified. I'm actually a nice boy. Maybe I'd make more of a Howard Hughes. Then again, I think he was a dick, too. Plus, he was a billionaire. And I'm too fun to be even a millionaire.
You ever thought about that? You always say, "If I was that rich, I'd be awesome!" And you're right. But that's why you're never gonna be rich: because you're too awesome to focus your crazy ass down and make money. And that's why billionaires are never fun: because they are too busy earning money to lay back and lick a frozen utility pole. Fun people can't focus. And focused people can't be fun.
And don't give me this shit about how people like Richard Branson are fun. Guys like him are posers. Sure he may build these mega-awesome hot air-balloons to play in, but he never plays in them; he's busy sitting in the damn thing on his cell phone making acquisitions and other boring business shit terms that us fun-ions could never understand. The same way your fun ass sits at your cubicle pretending to be smart, but you're really just playing Minesweeper. And who the hell plays minesweeper? It's not 1994. And who plays in hot air balloons? It's 2009.
So in conclusion, fuck super-rich people... because they're never fun. And fuck our fun asses, because we'll never be rich.
You ever thought about that? You always say, "If I was that rich, I'd be awesome!" And you're right. But that's why you're never gonna be rich: because you're too awesome to focus your crazy ass down and make money. And that's why billionaires are never fun: because they are too busy earning money to lay back and lick a frozen utility pole. Fun people can't focus. And focused people can't be fun.
And don't give me this shit about how people like Richard Branson are fun. Guys like him are posers. Sure he may build these mega-awesome hot air-balloons to play in, but he never plays in them; he's busy sitting in the damn thing on his cell phone making acquisitions and other boring business shit terms that us fun-ions could never understand. The same way your fun ass sits at your cubicle pretending to be smart, but you're really just playing Minesweeper. And who the hell plays minesweeper? It's not 1994. And who plays in hot air balloons? It's 2009.
So in conclusion, fuck super-rich people... because they're never fun. And fuck our fun asses, because we'll never be rich.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
