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photo of Kay Four

On Many Subjects

Famous among several.....

Posts tagged with "Humor"

At it again

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My neighbors are too much fun. I heard the following this morning while I was brushing my teeth:

Him: What in the hell do you want?

Her: I need to use the bathroom.

Him: But, I'm using it.

Her: Well, hurry it up. I need to use it.

Him: Get out of here.

Her: I really need to use it.

Him: You can use it when I'm done... And I plan to leave the seat up.

It is possible to nearly choke on one's toothbrush.

Twice a Day

I have discovered that I have to screw up, royally, at least twice a day to remain humble. Fortunatley that is no problem.

Soul Train

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Upon walking into the corridor and seeing students lined up on both sides...

Me: This looks like a Soul Train line.
Student: It is.
Me: Then why isn't anyone singing or clapping hands to the beat?
Student: (singing and clapping) The Looooovvvvveeee Boat, soon will be making another run...

Space Invaders and Cigarettes

A son-o-mine has recently quit smoking and is using a nicotine patch to counter the cravings for a smelly, smoldering weed.

This guy also protects his country by finding and disabling alien invaders. (No. Really!) Additionally, on his alien invader adventures, he frequently is beset with acute mal-de-mer and the military treats his problem with Dramamine patches. He is up to two at a time, now.

What does sissy cigarette patches and sissy Dramamine patches have in common.

With all the patches he has stuck all over his body, he looks like he lost the alien invaders game... more than once.

No More Ms. Nice Guy

I read over some recent entries and I realized my blog used to be far funnier. But what happened was this: First one person then another got their knickers in a knot because they thought I was poking fun at them. Well, I was. So, someone gets their feelings hurt, then I stop blogging about them. A friend once (or more than once) accused me of being too nice and maybe he was right.

Me! The greatest proponent of free speech, the First Amendment, self expression, non-conformity and freedom in journalism, EVER. Me! The outspoken and irreverent Kay Four bowed to the wishes of all those people who think they are too precious to be mentioned in my blog, because, OMG! I may say something that makes them take a good long look in the mirror when they should be saying to themselves, "Yes, I do have a stick rammed up my arse," and smile at my harmless humor and by extension, themselves.

I am declaring war! I am no longer going to bend to the wishes of the masses beacause, hey! No one knows MY real name so they sure as rain will not know the real name of anyone in my blog because I. Do. Not. Use. Anybody's. Real. Name. No one can be implicated by my regaling, my ranting and my weird way of looking at the world. No one should get their feelings hurt. If by chance you see yourself in something I write, then maybe it is time for you to make a change or two instead of getting angry with me and telling me off.

Hey world! Unbend that intestinal rod and laugh at yourself once in a while. I promise you will feel a lot better.

How to Argue

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This is the funniest thing I have read recently and it is extremely valuable information, as in, I wish I had known about this when I was a teenager. Or even better, I wish I had known this when my kids were teenagers.

How to argue effectively
By Dave Barry
And not by Stuart J. Williams, Attorney at Law
I argue very well. Ask any of my remaining friends. I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don't even invite me. You too can win arguments. Simply follow these rules:

Drink liquor.
Suppose you are at a party and some hotshot intellectual is expounding on the economy of Peru, a subject you know nothing about. If you're drinking some health-fanatic drink like grapefruit juice, you'll hang back, afraid to display your ignorance, while the hotshot enthralls your date. But if you drink several large martinis, you'll discover you have STRONG VIEWS about the Peruvian economy. You'll be a WEALTH of information. You'll argue forcefully, offering searing insights and possibly upsetting furniture. People will be impressed. Some may leave the room.

Make things up.
Suppose, in the Peruvian economy argument, you are trying to prove that Peruvians are underpaid, a position you base solely on the fact that YOU are underpaid, and you'll be damned if you're going to let a bunch of Peruvians be better off. DON'T say: "I think Peruvians are underpaid." Say instead: "The average Peruvian's salary in 1981 dollars adjusted for the revised tax base is $1,452.81 per annum, which is $836.07 before the mean gross poverty level."

NOTE: Always make up exact figures.
If an opponent asks you where you got your information, make THAT up too. Say: "This information comes from Dr. Hovel T. Moon's study for the Buford Commission published on May 9, 1982. Didn't you read it?" Say this in the same tone of voice you would use to say, "You left your soiled underwear in my bathroom."

Use meaningless but weighty-sounding words and phrases.
Memorize this list:

Let me put it this way
In terms of
Vis-a-vis
Per se
As it were
Qua
Ipso facto
Ergo
So to speak

You should also memorize some Latin abbreviations such as "Q.E.D.", "e.g.", and "i.e." These are all short for "I speak Latin, and you don't." Here's how to use these words and phrases. Suppose you want to say, "Peruvians would like to order appetizers more often, but they don't have enough money."

You never win arguments talking like that. But you WILL win if you say, "Let me put it this way. In terms of appetizers vis-a-vis Peruvians qua Peruvians, they would like to order them more often, so to speak, but they do not have enough money per se, as it were. Ergo, ipso facto, case closed. Q.E.D."

Only a fool would challenge that statement.

Use snappy and irrelevant comebacks.
You need an arsenal of all-purpose irrelevant phrases to fire back at your opponents when they make valid points. The best are:

You're begging the question.
You're being defensive.
Don't compare apples to oranges.
What are your parameters?

This last one is especially valuable. Nobody (other than engineers and policy wonks) has the vaguest idea what "parameters" means.

Don't forget the classic: YOU'RE SO LINEAR.

Here's how to use your comebacks:

You say: As Abraham Lincoln said in 1873...
Your opponent says: Lincoln died in 1865.
You say: You're begging the question.
You say: Liberians, like most Asians...
Your opponent says: Liberia is in Africa.
You say: You're being defensive.
You say: Since the discovery of the incandescent light bulb...
Your opponent says: The light bulb is an invention.
You say: Well DUH!

Compare your opponent to Adolf Hitler.
This is your heavy artillery, for when your opponent is obviously right and you are spectacularly wrong. Bring Hitler up subtly. Say, "That sounds suspiciously like something Adolf Hitler might say," or "You certainly do remind me of Adolf Hitler."



I stole this from HERE

Truer Words Were Never Spoken

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According to Shannon:

Life's a bitch. If it were a slut, it would be easy.

How Much is a Billion?

How Much Is A Billion?

The next time you hear a politician use the word "billion" casually think about whether you do, or don't, want that politician spending your tax money!!

A billion is a difficult number to comprehend, but an advertising agency did a good job of putting that figure in perspective in one of its releases:

A billion seconds ago, it was 1959.

A billion minutes ago, Jesus was alive.

A billion hours ago, our ancestors were living in the Stone Age.

And....

A billion dollars ago, was only 8 hours and 20 minutes at the rate Washington spends

3 Men Walk Into A Bar...

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A mechanical, electrical and a software engineer from Microsoft were driving through the desert when the car broke down. The mechanical engineer said "It seems to be a problem with the fuel injection system, why don't we pop the hood and I'll take a look at it."
To which the electrical engineer replied, "No I think it's just a loose ground wire. I'll get out and take a look."
Then, the Microsoft engineer jumps in. "No, no, no. If we just close up all the windows, get out, wait a few minutes, get back in, and then reopen the windows everything will work fine."

Women in War

How would the Army be if high-fashion models were drafted:

10) Do you have this in pink?
9) Does this helmet make my hair look flat?
8) Do my nipples show?
7) Whats with the noise? I'm tryin to get my beauty sleep!
6) Oh no! I shot somebody.
5) Do you people know how to remove blood stains?
4) You got me this in a size 4? Do I look fat to you?
3) Does this camoflage make my butt look big?
2) I have to pee and I don't wipe with leaves!
1) Do you have this in size zero?

Not Another Spider Post

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I was breaking the law anyway because I was talking to one of my kids on the cell phone while driving and showing proper concern when he said he passed out during a Physical Test in the military. It was dehydration, so readers, don't worry.

Me: Are you all right?
Kid: Sure. An hour later I finished the PT test.
Me: OK. Good. But, you went to the doctor, right?
Kid: All the guys in my unit picked me up and carried me to medical, so I didn't have a choice.
Me: What did they say?
Kid: It was just dehydration and a lack of sleep. They gave me some water to drink.
Me: GreatJumpingLeapingHoppingScreamingLizards!
Kid: It's not that bad.
Me: There is a BigHairyUglyEightLeggedSpider in the car with me.
Kid: What did you say? I didn't understand you. I am all right, seriously.
Me: Holy crap! HOLY CRAP!!!! Ohmygod! It is hanging from the mirror.
Kid: Mom? are you there?
Me: (Yelling) Hang on, I dropped the phone!

What happened afterward is the stuff of legends. Amid a torrent of swearing and screaming and squealing, I finally pulled over to the side of the road. Oh, did I mention I was on the Interstate? In the rain? In high winds? In the middle of that weird low pressure system that is hanging off the east coast of the United States? Then, a policeman stops behind me.

I hear a knock on the window and immediately think that spider made the noise. Not logical, I agree.

Cop: Are you all right?
Me: NO! There is a spider in here and now I can't find it.
Cop: (smiling) A spider?
Me: Yes. A big brown spider about the size of a dinner plate.
Cop: They don't get that big in Virginia.
Me: Maybe it is an alien.
Cop: Where did you last see it?
Me: In my car.
Cop: Very funny. Where in your car?
Me: Hanging from the mirror.
Cop: It's not there, now.
Me: Don't go getting all logical on me.
Cop: How can I help.

Now, imagine the next scene:

You are behind the an SUV that is parked along the side of the Interstate and a cop has his head stuck inside the driver's door. Suddenly, the SUV begins bouncing like twelve kids on a prom date are in the back and going at it. The cop jumps backward as the door is flung open and a woman with wild red hair jumps out of the car. The cop pulls his gun and the woman hides behind him for protection.

Cop: Holy Crap! That thing IS as big as a dinner plate.
Me: I told you!
Cop: We have to kill it.
Me: Ya think?
Cop: What do you suggest?
Me: You have a gun. Shoot it.
Cop: I may damage your car.
Me: I don't care. The spider has to go.
Cop: Wait... is that a napkin? I can squish it.
Me: Good idea!

Bravely, the cop squishes the spider with the napkin, announces the spider is dead and it is safe for me to continue on my way.

So, I get back into the car, strap myself in and somewhere on the floor, I hear a tiny voice: Mom? Mom, are you there?

I find my phone and pick it up.

Me: Hello?
Kid: Mom? Are you all right?
Me: Yes. Why?
Kid: I heard a lot of banging and screaming and yelling and then, was that gun fire?
Me: Well, the spider is now dead. And that is the most important thing. Now, tell me about your trip to the doctor.

Gold Rush

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Talking to one of my kids on the phone:

Me: You know there was a time when there was no kitty litter. Everyone had to use shredded up newspaper in a carboard box. No fancy plastic kitty litter boxes, either. Tin foil wrapped over a box. And shredded newspaper.
Kid: Wow. And I bet you had to walk to school in ten feet of snow. Uphill. Both ways.
Me: Actually, I grew up in Florida. Only five feet of snow... and hurricanes. I had to walk to school during hurricanes in ten feet of raging water.
Kid: Uphill?
Me: Yeah. Both ways. You should try that. Walking uphill when there is a torrent coming down the hill.
Kid: What's that got to do with kitty litter? I told you I needed to buy kitty litter and you start telling me about the good old days.
Me: It was the ultimate in recycling. People got rid of old newspapers at the same time as they filled their litter box. That was before kitty litter was invented.
Kid: I think kitty litter was discovered, not invented.
Me: So what? There were propsectors panning for kitty litter in California rivers?
Kid: That isn't what I meant.
Me: Kitty litter was invented. Back in 1948 by Ed Lowe. He is famous for it. I mean the only thing noteworthy the guy ever did was inventing kitty litter. He invented the name "Kitty Litter" and it has stuck. He was worth about a half billion dollars when he died.
Kid: How do you know this stuff?
Me: I must have read it somewhere.
Kid: Well, as I said earlier, I am hanging up so I can go to the store to buy some kitty litter.
Me: But, now you know more about kitty litter than anyone else.
Kid: Except for you. It was a question on Jeopardy, wasn't it?
Me: In the Category of Kitty Litter, Alex, for a thousand dollars...
Kid: No, that would be in the category of stuff only KayFour knows for a thousand dollars.
Me: You got me.
Kid: And to add insult to injury, you are going to blog about this.
Me: I hadn't thought of it... until NOW.
Kid: Just don't mention my name.

The New Kid In Town

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Coworker: Have you seen the new Admission's guy? He is gorgeous.
Me: I know! He looks like a combination of Ricky Ricardo and Ricardo Montalban.
CW: Very sexy!
Me: With a delicious accent.
ModSquad member Lincoln Hayes: Who are you girls talking about?
CW: The new guy
ModSquad member Pete Cochran: Are you ladies drooling over the new guy?
ModSquad member Julie Barnes: Uh huh! He is very pretty.
Pete: So, Linc, I guess you have been knocked off your pedestal.
Linc: Those women don't know a good thing when they see it.
Pete: Face it, Linc. You are not the Number One Stud anymore. They have traded you in for the tall Mexican guy.
Linc: Women just don't know what they want.
Pete: Linc, you are the looser.
Linc: But, I dress better than him. That should be worth something.
CW: He smells better than you do. Very sexy cologne.
Julie: I would so do him. In a heart beat. And I wouldn't even think about my husband. At least, not until afterward.
Me: You know the best thing about him? He makes good coffee.
Pete: You are so easy.
Me: I wouldn't be a bit surprised.

And Your Point Is?

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Admission's representative: You know it is a tragedy when a student drops. I mean that student is loosing out on the greatest opportunity of their life. They are loosing out on a change to totally better themselves. So, a student drops and I get an email from you with an exclamation point on it. It is tragic when a student drops. It is not an exclamation point moment.
Me: OK. I understand, now.
AR: No more exclamation points on emails when a student drops. That is a new rule. Add a sad smiley or something. Just no more exclamation points.
Me: I told you, I understand. It is a sad, sad day when a student drops because you loose your commission.
AR: That's right. Like I said. It is not an exclamation point moment.

I Know,Right?

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Filed under the category of "The Odder By-ways of the American English Language":

I know, right? has become the new catch-all phrase if someone agrees with something. A friend may say to you, "That dress you are wearing is the most hideously ugly thing on this planet," and it has become fashionable to respond with, "I know, right?" or "Zombies will eat your face," "I know, right?"

This phrase has moved into suprising circles. A college professor at the school where I work was caught (by mne) saying that very thing.

Professor 1: It is going to rain today.
Professor 2: I know, right?
Me: It is raining already.
Professors 1 & 2: I know, right?

These are the same people who taught their students that using a double negative in a sentence was wrong. "It is never not going to rain," means the same thing as "It is going to rain."

These are the same people who taught their students that using two positives in a sentence never means a negative.

To that I say, "Yeah, right."

Next Stop Saint Tropez?

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The Culinary Institute has a standard dress code. If the students are in the kitchen, they wear Chef's clothes: The black and white tweedy pants, the chef's jumper, a snood for their heads. (They get the chef's hat when they graduate.) They have inspections daily, checking for clean wrinkle-free uniforms, clean fingernails, clean black shoes. If they are in an acedemic class, the men wear black pants, white shirt and tie. The women wear black dress pants and a white blouse. It is a very neat school from a dress code point of view.

All that so I can tell you about a girl who came in to sign up for classes.

She had on a sundress that was VERY low cut and no bra and lots and lots of cleavage. I mean, she was practically naked from the waist up. I began helping her fill out her papers and was continally hit in the eye by this girl's rather well-endowed chest. Now, I don't normally go around looking at girl's boobs, but really. They were so out there. I would glance at her and think, "Oh crap, I looked at her boobs." Then, a second later, "Oh, crap, I did it again." Then, a second after that, "She probably thinks I am gay."

Worse, she came with her MOM and her DAD and I was embarassed because her Dad was sitting directly across from the girl and probably got an eyeful, too. I noted that he pointedly didn't look at the girl. "Wow, look at all those cook books on that shelf!" I am glad I had something for him to look at besides his daughter's chest.

The next day, the lady I work with was helping me with the girl's paperwork in that I am still in training. When we got to the girls papers:

CoWorker: Who is this girl?
Me: The one with the pink sundress.
CW: Who?
Me: The one who came in with her mom and dad.
CW: There were three girls here with their mom and dad. You need to be more specific.
Me: (sighing) The girl with the boobs.
CW: OHMYGOD! Did you see that?
ME: How could I help it?
CW: And in front of her father.
Me: I know!
CW: I couldn't look at anything else. I kept looking at her chest.
Me: How do think I feel? I was right there next to when she leaned over to sign papers.
CW: I would look then go, Oh, Crap! I looked.
Me: I did the same thing. Oh, Crap! I looked. She probably thought I am gay or something.
CW: I thought exactly the same thing.
Me: Well, at least when she starts to school here, she will have to keep that stuff covered up with her chef's jumper.
CW: For the first time in my life, I am really glad there are dress codes.

Have You Ever Thought About Working?

Ever have one of those days where an old flame calls you on the phone after you haven't heard anything from him in two years or more and he chats about this and that, inquiring about your job, your love life, your family? You know, "How's your mom and dad doing? Where are your kids? You still in school? How is your cat?"

Oh Hell, NO! he did not play the cat card. Asking about my cat is supposed to soften me up for the kill. Then, this happened:

Him: So, you have your own place?
Me: Yes. It is in Virginia, not Florida.
Him: Virginia is nice. I drove through there a last weekend.
Me: Going where?
Him: I was visiting DC. I would like to live near DC.
Me: I don't live near DC. It is like 4 hours or maybe 10 hours away.
Him: So, you have a pull-out sofa?
Me: No. I have a futon.
HIm: That's OK. Futons are nice to sleep on.
Me: Wait a cotton-pickin' minute. What are you asking?
Him: Well, I need a place to stay for a while.
Me: Why? What is wrong with your place?
Him: I am at my Mom's house. My wife and I seperated and now I have to pay $900 a month in child support and I need to finish school so I can make enough money to pay the child support, plus have my own place to live.
Me. Whoa! Wait a minute! I don't have room for a room mate. This apartment is too small for me and two cats.
Him: I really need a place to move. You and I have always been good friends.
Me: So, you lined everyone in your little black book up and started calling to find out who would let you move in?
Him: No. It's not like that at all. I LOOKED for you on the Internet. I tried really hard to find you. I have been looking for two weeks. I really need a place to stay.
Me: You really need a job.
Him: I'll get one. I'll help pay the rent. Oh, you have a computer, right? I have to leave this one with my mom, so you will let me use yours, right? And you have a TV? And cable? You have any movie channels?
Me: Wait just a minute, bucko. I did NOT say you can move in with me.
Him: I really need a place to stay.
Me: You have a place to stay... Your Mom's house.
Him: But, I don't like it here.
Me: You won't like it here, either.

The funny thing is, this is the second man this week who wanted to move in with me. Under normal circumstances, I would be totally flattered. But, neither one has a JOB. Both are living with their mothers and neither one likes it. I can understand that. But, when did I become a rescue mission for jobless men who still live with there moms... and these men are not right out of high school, either. One is over forty. One is over fifty. And they still live with their moms. And they are still unemployed.

There is something wrong with this. VERY wrong.

Why can't a guy with a great job, and a big house on the beach want to live with me? I am a great room mate, you know. Just getting all these offers should prove that.

Oh, wait! I forgot about the man who lives next door and who is getting evicted this week because he was laid off and cannot pay his rent and he has to move in with his mom. That makes three in the past ten days.

I must have something special. I must be the greatest person, ever. Everyone loves me! I am wonderful! Three men want to move in with me! I am the luckiest girl in the whole USA.

Ok. I am not lying to myself, here. The special thing I have is a steady job and enough income to buy pretty much what I want. And this homeless, jobless man epidemic will stop once the presidential election is over. Because if not, I will have to buy a boarding house for all my jobless, homeless male friends.

Who Says Culinary School Isn't Funny?

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I get to strike out on my own, gently guiding over-eager youngsters into financial ruin. We use words like 35 THOUSAND DOLLARS and they reply with, "Like, how many iPods is that?" Then, we have to resuscitate the parents who have just fallen on the floor, eyes glazed over while mumbling to themselves, "My first house didn't cost that much."

Then, the threats start. Mom or Dad begin by saying to the new student, "If you make anything less than an A on everything, I will repossess your freaking braces... retroactively." Ouch! Well, you really don't need your teeth to cook, I suppose, but knocking the kid's teeth out will ruin their chances to star on Top Chef or the Next Food Channel Star, or something. That's what they all want: A chance to shove Rachel Ray off the pedestal. Sadly, they don't realize that only the most talented will go on to TV greatness, unless they are Giada Delaurentis and they have famous relatives who can get them into show biz. Most of these eager, over-achievers will end up as head cook at a Waffle House or maybe as assistant chef at the Holiday Inn. Hey! It's a living.

So, they sign up for culinary school and discover that they have to work at it because this isn't just heating up Microwavable MacNCheese, which is their cooking experience to day. I hear students in the corridor, "They didn't tell me I had to wash dishes, man. Bogus!" I shout out of my office door, "Stop your whining. You have automatic dishwashers." Of course, the inevitable reply is, "Not for the pans, man."

OK. You got me there.

This Week's Newsy Update

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  • My new job is going well. It is so nice to be in a place where your employers really want you to be there. The service performed is invaluable to the school: Helping students arrange for financing so they can pursue their dreams of landing a job on the Food Network.

  • I am getting my own office this week. I have seen it. It is shiny and new and never been used. I am already breaking in a brand new, never before used computer. Also, my deskin my new office is right under a sky-light. It will be Friday before it is wired in so I can move there. (Jumping up and down and clapping my hands: Oh goody, goody, goody!)

  • The novel I have written is nearly ready to go to a publisher. Never give up! What a cool way to make money.

  • Working in a culinary institute will prove interesting because most of the instructors are CHEFS... oh, the possibilities.

  • Heard from a friend(?) who says that he doesn't want anyone to know that I know him, referring to his on-line presence on Facebook and MySpace. OK. Maybe not so friendly after all.

  • Finished the Divine Miss M's quilt and it is really pretty. I haven't heard from her Mom and Dad to find out any further details. I have been busy with my new job.

  • My neighbor stopped me in the parking lot:

Neighbor: How's it going?
Me: Really good. I got the new job at the Culinary Institute.
N: I thought so. You have been gone during the day.
Me: It is nice to have a regular job.
N: I am still laid off.
Me: Sorry to hear that. Any job prospects?
N: Yeah, I got one or two. Going for an interview tomorrow.
Me: I hope it goes well for you.
N: Hey, I wanted to ask, since you have a job and all. Can I borrow $10?
Me: I haven't gotten my first pay check yet.
N: Oh. OK. I just thought... you know... that since you were working and I am not that I could have some money.
Me: Are you trying to make me feel guilty?
N: Yeah, I am.
Me: Guilty for what? Because I have a job and you don't or because I have money and you don't?
N: Well, since you put it that way... Look, I am sorry.
Me: No problem
N: So, can I borrow $10?
Me:.....
N: Bad idea. Sorry.

Not the Cause of Death


No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. My mother would make me remake the bed after I did it because there was wrinkle in the spread or the blanket was on crooked. I slept in an unmade last night and survived. I even slept well.

And No, I didn't start a blog just to make my mom cry.

But, some lessons don't go away. I made my bed this morning.