The Poop Deck: Episode One – Your #1 Online Resource for Scatological Humor

I willingly admit, my sense of humor is often ruled by the 13-year-old boy who lives inside of my brain. This is the side to my humor that Dave Dorman finds deplorable. His derision merely serves to egg on Jack and me, which drives him deeper into his art studio…far away from us.

I derive comfort from the fact that I’m not alone in this. In fact, the family I was adopted into shares my sick sense of scatological humor, as do my “collection,” as BFF Marovich calls them, of friends I’ve curated along the way. No one batted an eye when one-year-old Jack’s favorite stuffed toy from me was Mr. Hankey, The Christmas Poo from South Park, replete with a push-button sound chip of Mr. Hankey sound bytes (“Howdy Ho, Kyle” being our personal favorite!)

Every once in a while, you’ll see me post some poop humor here that catches my eye. My non-Mormon Sister Wife Maura curated this one for me:

https://www.facebook.com/DiscoveryNews/videos/10153337937478387/

Like Peanut Butter & Jelly...

Like Peanut Butter & Jelly…

I commented on my Facebook page that I appreciated that “Mr. Henkie” from South Park was narrating this little video, and I received this instant message from my Facebook friend, Mike. Knowing my penchant for correct spelling, rest assured I’ll be editing my FB post, post haste!

We all need friends to hold us accountable. Thank you, Mike!

We all need friends to hold us accountable. Thank you, Mike!

Adventures in the Hospital: Context is…EVERYTHING.

My non-Mormon Sister Wife Ophelia always mentioned “Anime” in our conversations. One day, I could no longer take it, because the context was so odd, it prompted me to finally ask, “What does Japanese animation have to do with your father, anyway?” It was then that I learned her mother’s name was “Anna Mae.” A cacophony of Sister Wife howls of laughter erupted around the breakfast table as the realization slowly sank in. For the last 5 years, I’d been in a perpetual state of confusion whenever she mentioned her mother’s name.

So this story, which happened to me last Friday in the hospital, post-surgery, should come as no surprise to you. (Yes, I am totally fine. Thanks for wondering. The three separate celebratory parties by the Sister Wives were well worth the pain of the surgery!)

As you read this, you must take into context, I am ensconced in the world of comics, illustration, and autograph signings. I can’t even blame the pain killers, because I wasn’t on any.

So…this medical technician was in my hospital room performing an ultrasound on me Friday afternoon. In walked a man dressed like a 1950s Culligan Man with what looked like a Coleman Cooler chest:

The Sharpie Container!

The Sharpie Container!

“Here to get the Sharpies,” he announced, abruptly breaking the silence. He walked over to the area where my dry erase board was, removed something, and briskly exited my room. (This dry erase board is any hospital’s “communication” system, telling you the name & phone # of your nurse, technician, and “hospitalist” on any given shift. I never once glanced at that board, as it was placed well behind my hospital bed’s sight line where I never could see it.)

The typical Sharpie I see on a daily basis.

The typical Sharpie I see everywhere in my house, daily.

So I let this information soak in for a moment, and naturally, my journalist’s curiosity overtook me.

Me to Ultrasound Technician: “So…you have a guy whose job it is to remove the Sharpies? How often does he do that?”

Ultrasound Tech, sounding bored: “Every couple of days.”

Me: “And he has to put them in a special cooler?”

Ultrasound Tech: “Yep.”

Me: “So what kind of qualifications do you need to be a Sharpie removal technician? Perhaps I should apply for one of these easy jobs. Does it pay well? Is there a pension?”

Ultrasound Tech: “Uh, I’m not really sure.”

Me: “So there’s a truck full of Sharpies parked outside of this hospital right now?”

What I imagine a Sharpie delivery truck looks like--a blank canvas, begging to be drawn upon.

What I imagine a Sharpie delivery truck looks like–a blank canvas, begging to be drawn upon by a Sharpie illustrator.

Ultrasound Tech: “Yep.”

Me: “And they change out the Sharpies every couple of days? That seems rather wasteful.”

Ultrasound Tech: “Yep.”

Me: “So where do they take the Sharpies from here?”

Ultrasound Tech: “Well, they’re bio-hazardous material, so they dispose of them in some special way.”

Me: “Hmmm…well, I guess the Sharpies could get coated in the germs floating in the air of a hospital room, but isn’t the ‘bio-hazardous’ characterization a bit overly dramatic? And isn’t it better to use Dry Erase Markers on a Dry Erase board? Do the Sharpies even wipe off as easily?”

Ultrasound Tech: “Wait a minute…you thought I meant…markers…!?? (Starts laughing.) I’m talking about needles and razors. We call them ‘Sharpies.’ ”

Me: “It hurts to laugh. Make it stop!”

Ultrasound Tech: (Laughing uncontrollably).

Dave Dorman in the background: (Shaking his head slowly in disgust, non-plussed by my ridiculousness.)

My world has expanded.

 

 

 

 

 

Nerd Alert: My Quest for My Beloved Groundskeeper Willie in Miniature LEGO Form

Okay, confession time. I just entered an online contest to win my must-have The Simpsons‘ Groundskeeper Willie LEGO. (I can hear my Sister Wives chortling all of the way from here.) My love for Springfield’s angriest Scotsman knows no bounds. I mean, just look at those abs, will you? I could scrub my lingerie on that washboard! He would look so hot on my desk, next to my two other Groundskeeper Willie action figures:

Missing: 1 Groundskeeper Willie LEGO action figure...

Missing: 1 Groundskeeper Willie LEGO action figure…

It’s Free Comic Book Day today and Batman Day, so hopefully there will be some Simpsons LEGOs still available at my local comic book retailer after all of those crowds. Admittedly, I’m a little nervous.

And after the weight lifting adventures with Marovich the other night, even my Sister Wives are challenging me now to wear my geeky super hero garb out in public – one of the Sister Wives who shall remain nameless had to verify it up close and personal…

Sister Wife Inspector: "Yep, it's definitely an authentic  Wonder Woman tee."

Sister Wife Inspector: “Yep, it’s definitely an authentic Wonder Woman tee.”

If you happen to see a Groundskeeper Willie while you’re out celebrating Free Comic Book Day, buy it and I’ll pay you back. I’d gladly pay you tomorrow for a Groundskeeper Willie today…

The Pop Culture Kid Enters 4th Grade

The Pop Culture Kid Enters 4th Grade

The Pop Culture Kid Enters 4th Grade

It’s hard to believe we have a 9-year-old, but time flies, even moreso, when your life is meted out in seasons of pop culture conventions. As you can see by his graphic tee (an Indy Pop Con purchase) and his Adventure Time BMO backpack (a San Diego Comic-Con purchase) young Jack has embraced the world of animation. I remember my 4th grade year. My teacher was an elderly woman well past her expiration date, with little tolerance for my 4th grade sense of humor. That was the year that I discovered I truly hated math, and math hated me right back. To quote my favorite deep thinker, the great Jack Handey:

Instead of having “answers” on a math test, they should just call them “impressions,” and if you got a different “impression,” so what, can’t we all be brothers?

Here’s hoping young Jack continues on his current path of friendly relations with Math, Science, Social Studies and all of the other subjects I’ve rarely if ever used in my adult life.

Groundskeeper Willie: My Not-So-Secret Crush

 

 

Dave Dorman's Gifts to Me: Groundskeeper Willie Action Figures & My Cthulhu Easter Figure

The View from My Desktop: Best Hubs Ever Dave Dorman’s Gifts to Me Include Groundskeeper Willie Action Figures & My Cthulhu Easter Toy

Call me crazy–you won’t be the first or last to do so–but my friends were astounded when I revealed my Peter Dinklage crush (and no, I haven’t even begun binge-watching Game of Thrones yet) so the very idea of my crush on The Simpsons’ Groundskeeper Willie character–an animated cartoon man whose very skin tone denotes impending kidney failure–was one of my more surprising revelations. Yet, I urge you to take a moment to consider that Groundskeeper Willie offers women all of these benefits & more:

#1. Red hair (and the right shade of red hair)

#2. Six pack abs / immense physical strength

#3. A Scottish brogue

#4. The ability to do maintenance work and handle power tools with aplomb

#5. Unharnessed abs flashing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9_jIa2WADc

I remember when I first fell for Groundskeeper Willie. It was The Simpsons’ Season 5 episode called “Radio Bart where Sting and Groundskeeper Willie had to save Timmy O’Toole from the well. Sting, my favorite singer, performed “We’re Sending Our Love Down the Well” to raise awareness. It was episodic perfection. The only thing missing was Peter Dinklage.

I am not alone in my fervor for Groundskeeper Willie. Websites all over the world are dedicated to him. Check out this soundboard, and the first clip of Groundskeeper Willie teaching French: “Bonjourrrr, you cheese-eating surrender monkeys!” http://www.soundboard.com/sb/groundskeeper_simpsons_clips

In a perfect world, an animated version of Dave Dorman would battle Groundskeeper Willie for my hand in marriage, and we’d all live happily ever after in Springfield.