sweasel.com

Er, Badger, I’m not one to grumble (much) or complain (loudly) or even to whine (overly-long) but Weasel mentioned a bad joke – and then left without telling it.

I understand her concerns about being caught by American Customs importing bad British humor, but duty and honor require taking some risks, dammit!

So, uhm, what was the joke in the last cracker of the year?

I don’t even bother to read the jokes anymore. And I grew out of wearing the paper hats when I was around 4. But sometimes you can get awesome toys like tiny decks of cards or tiny yo-yos or tiny stickytape dispensers or tiny screwdriver sets or tiny waterpistols or tiny notepads or tiny sewing kits. No such luck this year though.
Here are some lame cracker jokes in no particular order of lamidity:
What does Father Christmas give his reindeer on cold mornings? Santa freeze.

How do you stop a skunk smelling? Hold its nose.

Why do barbers make good drivers? Because they know all the short cuts.

And here’s one you won’t understand if you’re not British (but still isn’t funny): Which bear is white and smells of peppermint? A polo bear.

Happy trails Weas.

Thank you for saving me the walk of shame, Gibby.

Actually, the jokes in our crackers were even worse.

Which is strange, as we had all those toys… umm… except the yo-yo.

Traveling mercies, Stoaty.

8 members of my husband’s family were in a rollover bus crash last night coming home from a Colorado ski trip. His cousin has some pretty severe shoulder injuries and another cousin’s wife is in surgery right now for a broken leg. The bus is just a mess…
http://www.kutv.com/media/news/8/1/4/814f9c4f-23ec-4a7e-9616-978ccc7531d0/Original.jpg

I hope they all recover swiftly, Dawn.

Wow, Dawn. No fender-bender, that.

Best wishes to you and all my prayers for your folks…..

Jeez – 8 people also died in that crash.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,320566,00.html

Yikes Dawn, that wreckage looks horrible. Best wishes for your family members speedy recovery.

Ooooo…toys inside Christmas crackers you say? Do they resemble Kinder Egg loot?
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2140/2176189590_4956abd87e.jpg

I admit it, I’m a ‘prize’ retard.

Thanks McGoo. I know what you said was no small thing.

Beaner. I heart kinder eggs!

Hi porknbean – not really like that, no. They range from the really rubbish (like a giant plastic paperclip or hair ornament) to the really quite useful, like the things Gibby mentioned.

Weasel got a really neat little sewing kit in one of hers. So if on the way back she pops a button on the stoat-suit, she can quickly organise a running repair.

Not that we ate a lot over the festivities.

Heaven forend!

Beaner. I heart kinder eggs!

When the husband goes on business to Germany, he usually brings some home. Kids eat the chocolate and give me the toys. A lot are crap but I love the critters and figures like those Star Wars hippos. Hmmm…it’s been a couple of years since he brought any home.

I got them once or twice in the past via Ebay via Canadian shops that ship within a week.

They range from the really rubbish (like a giant plastic paperclip or hair ornament) to the really quite useful, like the things Gibby mentioned.

Back in my grandmother’s day, Cracker Jacks would have such things as Gibby mentioned. Even had tiny pocket knives….hmmm…I even remember getting one when I was quite small. God forbid the children of today get their fingers seared by such an instrument of satanic proportions as their prize.

http://www.crackerjack.com/home.htm

Man you can find some interesting junk on the tubes when your snowed in with the kiddos.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_songs_deemed_inappropriate_by_Clear_Channel_following_the_September_11%2C_2001_attacks

No, Dawn – I do not offer my prayers lightly. But they are sincerely meant when offered.

I miss the good prizes in Crackerjack. I had the creme-de-la-creme prize when I was a li’l dinghy – the compass. But my grandpa gave that to me.

Everyone wanted/hoped/prayed for the compass.

Political Correctness sucks like deep space.

When I was a kid we actually ‘sploded stuff! I actally made black powder in the garage and damned near blew up dads workbench. I still love the smell of burned black powder…

Those were the days…

Oh, shoot, Dawn…hope things turn out okay for the in-laws. No such drama here. Nine hours from Gatwick to Charlotte (ulch) and another two and a bit from Charlotte to Boston. Then the bus. Then a cab. Then a nice big whisky, I think.

Hooray for Charlotte airport and their free wifi!

My hubber grew up exploding things. His uncle was the chief of police so they could get away with lots of stuff. The town he grew up in (about 18 miles from where we live now) still fires an anvil around town every Fourth of July. Four or so years ago they finally said we couldn’t throw water balloons at people from the back of pickup trucks anymore. It was too dangerous – stupid hippies! So now we don’t go.

Anvil shooting! *heartrate doubles*

I know what that is! It’s neat!

IIRC, they put an anvil on top of another one (I think) that has a little cubbyhole carved out on top. Ya put a wad of black powder in the cubbyhole, put the top anvil over the cubbyhole, light the fuse, and get away. Or sumpin like that. Anyway:

It’s REALLY loud, and blows the top anvil waaaaaaay the whoop-dee-doo up in the air. It then – inevitably – falls back down, and makes a big hole in the ground where it buries itself. Then a bunch of folks go pry it out of the ground so’s they can do it again.

I have wanted to do that for about ten years and have not gotten to.

McGoo – you’ll like this….

http://www.cannon-mania.com/anvil.htm

You need to move out west!

Yep. That’s anvil shooting! 200 lbs of ringing projectile, going more-or-less straight up.

There’s a subtle reason you don’t do it in suburbia – but it escapes me right now…

Back. That’s 22 hours on the road, thenkyewverymuch. The old stoat still has it in her.

The house is…strange. The workmen didn’t get to everything, but they got to a lot. I have no curtains. I feel like a bug under glass. One cat present and accounted for. Stuff is…moved around oddly. There’s a lampshade on the kitchen table, but the lamp has vanished (I wouldn’t ordinarily care, but it’s a converted oil lamp that belonged to my great grandmother). There are foreign cleaning products on my kitchen counter. There’s a half-drunk glass of…something in the fridge. The icecubes in it haven’t entirely melted.

Whenever we get all this consolidated at Badger House, we’re instituting a shoot-on-sight policy for strangers and workmen, I tell you what.

Oh, and there’s a sofa and armchair on the curb in front of my house that does not belong to me.

Oh.

I guess we minions should…um…explain that sofa…

Now don’t get – y’know – upset or anything…

See, the cat had a hell of a shin-dig while you were away, and one of his polecat buddies thought it’d be a good idea to bring in some furniture, seein’ as how most o’ yours has been taken away. This particular polecat has rather… “questionable” sources, and suffice it to say that those particular articles of furniture didn’t respond well to firehoses…

Er… on the plus side, you won’t have to smell the urine stains this way!

While the weasel is away, the minions will…fuck shit up.

Sorry to hear about your relatives Dawn. But just think how much worse it could’ve been. Uhg, bus crashes must be awful. All that mass, and no seatbelts…

When I was a kid I used to bug the bus driver about why she got a seatbelt but we didn’t. :p She used to respond (jokingly) that bus drivers were more expensive to replace than schoolkids. You could often find schoolkids on sale at Target or K-Mart dirt cheap.

I always wanted seatbelts on the bus. The kids were mean, and they liked shoving the person on the end of the seat out on the sharper turns. That person was usually me, lol. I always figured I’d take my chances with the seatbelts, because the way I saw it, we were more likely to crash on land than we were in the water where I lived. :p

I hope your folks have a speedy recovery and little to no mental scarring, Dawn. They seem like strong people to make it through that (relatively) intact. 😐

With the Internet, my education never stops:

I just found out what a Cleveland Steamer is.

Y’know – someone famous said, “There’s nothing new under the sun.”

They were so full of shit….

Once our son got the pyro bug, we said he could commence with burnings so long as it was when we were home, it was outside/away from the house, and he had a bucket of water handy. (Had to kick his butt twice for messing with matches in the garage and burning crap with candles in the livingroom.)

Nevertheless, he had good fun with fire crackers and water bombs and has now outgrown his pyro tendencies.

McGoo, you are grounded for the rest of the day for that!

So it’s a good thing I didn’t Google it from work? I had this gut feeling…

It gets way worse.

Dawn – Weaz – do NOT google the Bob & Tom song of the same name. And don’t play it. And do NOT listen to the lyrics.

This place right here is what you specifically should NOT click on:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L_DEp1lz0CM

…I told you not to…

Cleveland Steamer?

You people are sick.

Dirty S – you should talk!

BTW: Welcome home, Weazel! Did the other cat show up?

Yeah. Both cats. AND the lamp (it’s in the basement).

I’ll send that link to my boss…

So…all cats and lamps accounted for. Ya, ya, dis ist gut…

You should send your boss the Pie Hole link too. If for no other reason than because its stupid.

Then go over to http://raymitheminx.com/ and copy the photo of her mooning the camera and send that to your boss. That’ll get your exit paperwork started. You’re welcome!

If you can’t find it, I (harrumph!) might be able to help.

Cleveland steamer? Gross.
Do freaks really do that? Why? Dr. McGoo, after your grounding I want a psychological evaluation of Pelosi’s constituents.

I clicked on that link McGoo, and I am happy to say that ignorance, in some cases, is bliss. I’m thinking ‘why is he singing about these things and why is it supposed to be funny’. And if Sanchez is dirty, then he needs to take a bath.

I can hardly believe that’s what Wikipedia is actually for.

I learned long ago not to cast my net too widely in an images.google.com search. There are pictures in my head now I’d rather weren’t there.

I am much of the same mind, Weaz. I know I shouldn’t, but I never quite learn. It’s my monkey curiosity.

I ran into the Cleveland thing quite by accident today – just as I did on the Dirty Sanchez (which stunned the shit out of me) a month or two ago. All those terms in the B&T song? I remain in blissful ignorance.

But then – not 30 minutes ago – I turned right around and looked up strangland.com because of that Russian hacker article on Ace.

Don’t go to strangeland,com. Cherish your naiveté.