Hey dad! Pass the Unnnnnngha Bunnnnga.

The other day I was walking along Dundas past the police station when I overheard a conversation between two students. I’m not going to hazard a guess at what they were students of. I feel I’ve already sullied what I believe to be their academic ambition enough in a previous post. It was actually less of a conversation and more of a statement by the male student to his female counterpart. This is a direct quote:

I realized something the other day and it made me feel like the smartest man alive. I realized that if you take the first letters in cop and porn and switch them it spells pop corn.

I’ll give you all a few minutes to let that sink in and find something to punch or break or to just generally morn the future of the human race. If you need me I’ll be listening to Pop Corn by Hot Buttered.



All done? Good. Now it’s safe to say that this young gentleman’s revelation is, for lack of a better word, stupid. Why he chose to share it with the young lady I do not know. Perhaps he was trying to woo her. Since the rise of Facebook and the Twitter, the courting rituals of today’s young people are a complete mystery to me. I think it involves a lot of emoticons and the exchanging of pictures of one another’s junk.

But people say stupid things all the time. I do it, you do it, we all do it and young people seem to do it a lot. Let me give you another great example. I was at a show about a month ago and there was this teenage guy with his girlfriend standing behind me and he was telling her about some new ska band that he liked. She’d never heard of ska before and asked him what it was. Here is how he replied, another direct quote:

It’s like a mixture of No Doubt and jazz.

Yep. That’s what he said. He said this:

Plus this:

Equals this:

Now I’ll give you a few minutes to take in that dynamic piece of musical intellect. If you need me I’ll be watching this Prince Buster video.

Made some time between the death of Miles Davis in 1991 and the release of No Doubt’s third album.

Alright. See, people say stupid shit all the time. Hopefully they think back to it, cringe from the recollection of it, learn a lesson and move on. It’s no big deal. They’re only hurting themselves, right? But what about parents passing their stupid on down to their children. Parents tell their kids stupid things all the time. Sometimes it’s because they’re actually ignorant. Sometimes it’s because they’re trying to hide the ugly truth in order to preserve the innocence of youth a little longer and sometimes it’s just because they’re too lazy to come up with the right answers to the numerous questions their children ask them. The sad thing too is that kids are little sponges that will soak up whatever asinine load of shit their parents tell them. Don’t believe me?

See.

I.

Told.

You.

So.

If that’s not enough then let me give you a first hand experience. In fact let me give two. Both of these gems come from my annual trips to the zoo. The few friends I have with children are all fairly intelligent and I hate going to malls so the zoo seems to be about the only time I’m surround by stupid parents and their kids.

Little boy: (upon seeing a plaster cast that is obviously a hippo skull outside the hippo enclosure): Daddy what’s that?

Dumb Dad: I think it’s a dinosaur skull. They must have found it while they were digging the hippo pit.

The thing I like most about this answer is that it actually takes more thought then coming up with the right answer. Yes, Dumb Dad. It’s a dinosaur skull. And they found it while digging the 8 foot hippo pit. And instead of sending it to a lab or a museum they just left it beside the hippo enclosure for people to manhandle and sit on. Sigh, if only that hippo could aim.

Look close at the beginning and you can see the skull in the background.

This second one comes from the Australasia pavilion.

Dumb Weekend Dad (pointing at the orangutans): Look son. Monkeys!

Little Boy 2: What kind of monkeys are they dad?

Weekend Dad: Uhhhh? Orange monkeys!

First of all who’s never heard of orangutans? They’re in contention with the gorillas and the polar bears for the title of best animal at the zoo! And there’s a plaque right there that says orangutans! Come on Weekend Dad! It’s only 2 days, you’ve got 2 eyes. Put some effort into it.

But what can you do? No one should be able to tell a parent how to raise their kids.

Parents of this kid excepted

The only thing we can do is sit back and laugh at the results.



So I’m going to give all you dumb parents a break. Dumb dad’s; go ice up your nuts for a while. Dumb moms; go watch Sarah Palin’s new reality show. But before you do, plunk your little dunderheads in front of the computer and Uncle Johnny will edumacte them for you.

Uncle Johnny Creepshow’s 5 Fun Facts for Dumb Kids:

1) You know where mustard comes from? Wasps. That’s right. Bees make honey and wasps make mustard. That stuff all over your face when you eat a hot dog? That’s wasp turds.

2) Speaking of turds. Do you know why you poop? I’ll tell you why. It’s because your spine never stops growing. That’s right. Every day you grow about 8-10 inches of new spinal cord. And the old spine at the end turns brown and falls out of your but like a snake shedding its skin. It’s all because we’re descended from dinosaurs.

File Photo: Your great, great Granddad.

3) Pizza didn’t exist before 1969 and was discovered by Michael Caine while filming the Italian Job.

Most of the film involved driving and Michael Caine couldn’t drive at the time (you’ll notice you never see him drive a car in the film). So when they filmed the driving scenes Caine would watch the action from on e of the many Italian sidewalk cafes while having a nice meal and a few bottles of wine. During one scene one of the Minis lost control and went careening into Caine’s table just as he was tucking into a spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread. When the dust settled there was Michael Cain’s garlic bread, flattened like a pancake and covered in tomato sauce and cheese. He was so furious about his ruined lunch that he forced the stunt driver to eat it. And that’s how we got pizza.

Thanks Michael.

4) While we’re on the subject of fast food, you know Arby’s famous curly fries?

They are made right on the Arby’s cattle farms by feeding the cows potatoes and then extracting the partially digested potato mush from one of the cow’s four stomachs via a special faucet in its side.

That’s why the fries are curly and it’s also why they taste like burps.

5) And you know those miniature bats they sometimes give out at baseball games?

When baseball was first played the bats were actually that size. And they weren’t swung by people. They were swung by puppets. It’s true. Baseball was invented by puppeteers as a way to relax between Punch and Judy shows. Hence the term slugger (or slug her).

Yes, I’m afraid America’s favorite pass time is just an overly complicated and drawn out metaphor for spousal abuse.

There you go kids, don’t forget to tell your friends. Now get off my rug before you dent the shag.



Cyclists Suck Concrete Donkey Dick.

Some shithead stole the mud-guard off my bike yesterday. Who steals a mud-guard? What are you going to do with it? Is there some drug dealer out there with zero business sense that’s trading crack for mud-guards? I doubt it. This brings me to the conclusion that who ever stole my mud-guard probably wanted it for their bike. God damn cyclist.

There’s been a lot of talk about motorists and cyclists not getting along in Toronto lately. I’ll admit that biking to work everyday I come across a lot of drivers that piss me off but usually it’s because they’re just not paying attention. They treat their car like they’re own little apartment on wheels. They sit in there and talk on their phone, finger their Blackberry, eat garbage, shave, do their make-up, smoke cigarettes. Hell some of them even do this.

My point is that most of them aren’t assholes so much as they’re just clueless. I have far more problems with the other cyclists on the road. They’re often rude, inconsiderate of every other vehicle on the road and many of them are idiots. In no particular order here’s a list of some of my most hated cyclists:

Roid-Road-Rage
The guy who even though he’s not as fast as me he still can’t take being passed and will use all his remaining energy to get past me again only to run out of steam and force me to pass him again. Actually this guy is kind of funny in a sad way but I still hate him.

Stroll Position
Painfully slow but he rides through every red light and stop sign so you have to keep passing him over and over. He’s also the guy that jumps the line at red lights. If you’re going to pass me STAY FUCKING PAST ME!!

The Bell Ringer
This is usually a woman. She will ride for 10 city blocks past row after row of parked cars dinging her bell at every single one of them to make sure they know she’s passing and don’t open their doors. Getting stuck behind her in a narrow lane where you can’t pass is a maddening experience. If you’re that paranoid snow-flake maybe you should take the fucking bus.

New Parents
Parents that let them selves go after having a baby and decide to dig the bikes out of the garage and get some exercise. They often ride a rickety old piece of shit that hasn’t been ridden since 1982. They won’t tune it or even dust it but they will strap a $2,000 mobile tent containing their precious little fuck trophy and trundle down the bike lanes all weekend bumping over curbs and side swiping cars when they miss-judge turns.

Mid-Life Crisis Riders
Middle -aged men that work downtown and decide to take up the sport of cycling. They buy $8,000 bikes and shoe-horn their doughy frame into skin tight spandex complete with racing logos down their milk bag thighs. Although it’s often a quick flash as I easily pass them, the image of that tiny seat crammed up that fat ass often haunts me for the rest of my ride. They also bother me simply for the fact that their bike is a complete waste of money. It’s like watching a the rich girl get a brand new Porsche for her 16th birthday. That bike will no doubt be sold at a garage sale in a year’s time for $200. Also I feel bad for the co-workers that accidently walk in on them changing into that outfit and see their junk.

Special mention goes to Bike Couriers. Although they are insane, obey no traffic laws and seem to dress as if they live in some sort of post-apocalyptic wasteland I can not really criticize them as they are out their everyday and compared to them my short commute is nothing but a mere jaunt.

Also special mention goes to homeless guys/crack- heads. True that I encounter many of them coming at me the wrong way while riding impassable contraptions covered in aluminum foil and liquor bags. They have little regard for their own life never mind mine.


P.S. Two months ago someone (no doubt the same piece of shit) stole my front wheel.