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Canadian Misadventures Continued

The elevator story previously related on this blog turned out to be only the beginning of the shenanigans which took place on our trip to Canada. As mentioned in the last post, I was very ill with some sort of respiratory illness that felt akin to the Plague.

The illness was an inconvenience. And this was never more true than it was as we were driving home. The problem was that everyone was trying to sleep after an exhausting week of touring and I was keeping people awake with my thunderous coughing. A couple hours down the road, we stopped at a gas station in Calgary. The chaperone for our bus, who had the misfortune of sitting right in front of me, asked if I would take some Nyquil if she got me some.

I felt bad about keeping everyone awake, and was not at all opposed to getting some sleep myself. So I agreed. But I had never taken Nyquil before and had yet to learn of the incredible sleep inducing powers contained within that one little green pill.

Long story short (since I don’t remember most of it anyway) I slept from Calgary, Alberta to Great Falls, Montana. That’s about a 10 hour stretch of time for which I have no memories. During which time I supposedly stopped at customs and showed somebody my passport? To be honest, I’m a little surprised the let me back in since I was so obviously drugged.

I have not taken Nyquil since. I’m a little scared of it.

canada

This is one of the only known photographs of my trip to Canada in which I look like I’m having fun rather than dying. And that might just be because you can’t really see my face.

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To Steal a Deceased Canine

Posted on

This is a story I herd from my aunt about her friend. Or maybe a friend of a friend. Basically what I’m trying to say is that the story here may or may nor be true.

So this lady was living alone in an apartment in New York. A friend who was concerned for her safety (since she was living alone) decided to give her a big guard dog. All was well until one day when the dog died. Not sure what to do, the owner called animal control who informed her that if she brought the dog in, they would take care of it. So she set off on the subway. So as not to seem like that total creep carrying the dog corpse on the subway, she first put the dog into a duffle bag.

As she was getting on to the subway, a man came and helped her get her large duffle bag onto the subway. He asked what was in it, and not wanting to tell him the truth, she instead said that it was full of school supplies. He seemed nice, and they talked for the duration of her ride. When he got off, though, he ended up stealing the bag which he thought was full of school supplies.

Wouldn’t you want to be a fly on the wall when he opened that bag?

I

Posted on

I just found this old email from a friend who is more funny (but a rather less competent speller) than I am.

you’re last message only contained ‘i’ and your name at the bottem, so i respond anyway. i wasn’t shure if you sent it by accident, were aware of that and sent it as a joke, the only key that worked was the ‘i’ key and you tried in frustration to convey this to me by sending that sole letter, or you were abducted after only writing ‘i’ and barely managed to press the send button in you stuggle against you captor. if its the last reason im sorry if you’re still in captivity or this note brings back unhappy memories. as a random thought: in many movies where people get kidnapped they try to make signs for help, but in reality most people don’t notice these signs, take them as a joke, or believe they are just weird and then forget about them. unfortunently too many people play practical jokes that immitate kidnapping and other such bad things, so people don’t take actual crimes as seriously.
so don’t accidently press the send button/ please get a better sense of humor/ good luck fixing your keyboard/ i hope your kidnappers face an aweful death wherever they are/ other.

conrad

The Pink Joke

This post could alternatively be titled “My Sister is Gullible.”

So for those of you who don’t know the pink joke, or at least don’t know it by that name, the pink joke is basically a test of¬†gullibility. The joke teller essentially makes up a story on the spot and just keeps telling it until the joke listener realizes there’s no punchline. Recently, my sister and I discovered a typed up version of part of the pink joke the one time I tried to tell it to her. I present it to you now, because it’s pretty funny for not being a real joke. I (as I tend to do) insert some parenthetical comments. For the most part, though, this is how the conversation went down:

Once there was this guy named Mark and he worked at this gas station. Mark loved burritos, but wouldn’t eat them ever because he was afraid of gaining weight. One day his mean ex-girlfriend Lola came into the gas station and started waving a burrito in Mark’s face and taunting him. Finally Mark was so fed up that he snatched the burrito out of Lola’s hand. Lola got mad and called her dad who was a police officer and said that Mark had robbed her. The police officer started chasing Mark, but then realized that all he had taken was a burrito. Mark didn’t realize that the police officer had stopped chasing him, though, and kept running until he reached Mexico.

Once he was in Mexico a mob saw him, but since he had a burrito they decided to give him a sombrero instead of being hostile to him. Then he ended up on a boat (ok, so I told this story awhile ago. I don’t remember WHY he got on the boat.). While in the boat he dropped his burrito overboard. When he didn’t have his burrito anymore, the mob became hostile again and through Mark off the boat. In the process Mark cut himself on a sharp piece of metal protruding from the side of the ship. Because of the cut, he was eaten by a shark when he fell into the Gulf of Mexico.

As it turned out the shark’s name was Leonard. Once he had finished devouring Mark he felt bad about eating the poor guy. So he went to a wise octopus and asked what he could do. The octopus sent him on a quest to scalp an elf, but first he had to visit some sea gnomes to make him a supershark suit so that he could walk on land. (My sister is now reminding me that apparently I had to come up with a reason why elves and gnomes are different. What I ended up telling her was that elves lived on land and gnomes lived underwater. makes sense…) So after acquiring his supersuit, Leonard set off, but was thrown off by a storm and ended up in China. While there he met a llama named Ferdinand and they decided to walk together to Ireland to find some elves. And then they were chased by a Chinese mob. And then they ran into the Great Wall of China. And then Leonard accidentally broke a hole in the Wall. And then a bunch of mythical Chinese women who had been holding up the Wall since it was built came out. And the women got into a fight with the Chinese mob.

And then in route to Ireland they got sidetracked in Italy where they encountered a crazy monkey named Uga Borba who liked to bite of people’s toes. And he has this whole backstory about his dad named Gordon (when I got to this part of the story, I had to stop for like a full 20 seconds to try and think of a name for the dad, under the pretense that I was trying to “remember” it. And the best I could come up with was Gordon…) Basically Gordon had a habit of biting of people’s thumbs, but one day decided not to. And oh my goodness I am getting tired of telling this story. Just as I was getting tired of telling Miranda the pink joke back when I initially conceived the story. And no, she never figured out there was no punchline. After like two hours of me talking, I eventually just gave in and told her the catch.

I say she failed the gullibility test.

So this is basically what I imagined Borba looks like.