Tag Archives: humour

I admit that sometimes I think we’re very funny people.

Today a package arrived in the mail, which is delivered to our student box at the seminary.  I was working in the library in a private study room and was chatting with Dixie on Google Talk about it.

She’s expecting a t-shirt that reads, “got meryl streep?”

The following conversation ensued (edited for irrelevancy):

Me: Buster?

Dixie: yesh?

Me: Ah, you are there.

Dixie: i heard the beeping and came over here

Me: We got something from Florida today. What would that be? From a Susan Livingston.*

Dixie: the t-shirt probably

Me: It feels like clothing, but it seems too small to be the t-shirt.

Dixie: why don’t you open it and see? I hope it doesn’t say “Got Susan Livingston” on it

Me: I’m opening the envelope…

There’s a white powder in it…

Dixie: shut up

Me: Also a t-shirt.

Dixie: how does it look?

Me: Good.

Dixie: “Got Meryl Stripe”

Me: It’s says “got merv strelp?”

Dixie: lol

Me: I’m funny…  I’m lol-ing alone in my little study carrel here.

Really, I was only wheezing to myself in my little study carrel.  I’m not sure if that counts as lol-ing or not.

(Here’s a picture Dixie wearing the shirt.)
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Of course. He keeps them in a box.

Conversation I had with Luke and Madeline tonight:

Luke: How big is God?

Me: I don’t know. It’s hard to say.

Madeline: He’s bigger than the universe.

Marc: In a sense he is, I suppose.

Luke: Who is God?

Marc: Well, he’s the creator of the universe and the whole world.

Madeline: And he created you and me.

Luke: How did he make me?

Madeline: Out of dirt.

Me: Yyyyyyyyyes.

Luke: How did he make our face? How did he make our eyes?

Marc: I don’t know. I’m not sure how God created everything.

Luke: I know! He had a box with eyes. And they had names on them, so that he could put them in our face.

National Parks Visitors’ Centres

It’s no secret that Bill Bryson is my favourite author.  It might be less well-known that The Lost Continent: Travels in Small-Town America is one of my favourite Bryson books (second only, perhaps, to A Walk in the Woods). I pulled The Lost Continent off the shelf this evening and opened it randomly and found myself following him on his visit to Philadelphia (not exactly small town, but whatever), where I happened upon this truth:

National park visitors’ centres are always the same.

He explains:

They have some displays in glass cases that manage to be both boring and uninformative, a locked auditorium with a board out front saying that the next showing of the free twelve-minute introductory film will be at 4 p.m. (just before 4 p.m. somebody comes and changes it to 10 a.m.), some racks of books and brochures with titles like Pewter in History and Vegetables of Old Philadelphia, which are too dull even to browse through, much less buy, and a drinking fountain and rest-rooms, which everyone makes use of because there’s not much else to do.  Every visitor to every national park goes into the visitors’ centre, stands around kind of stupidly for a while, then has a pee and a drink of water and wanders back outside (p. 156).

It’s funny ’cause it’s true, in Canada as well.

Fun with report cards

I was sorting through some of my old papers tonight and came across all of my old report cards.  I had some good laughs.

1. In my second semester of Grade 12 I got the following comments from teachers of 4 of my 5 classes:

  • “Well done!”
  • “Appreciate participation in class”
  • “Putting forth a good effort”
  • “Good progress”
  • “Positive contribution to class spirit”
  • “Cooperative and willing student”
  • “Lab work excellent”

I don’t mention those comments to gloat, but as a juxtaposition against the following comments from my French teacher for the same report period:

  • “Progress satisfactory”
  • “Disturbs others occasionally”
  • “Does not respect teacher’s authority”

Hilarious.  Some of these comments are not like the others.

I remember this French teacher.  He started when we were in Grade 10, I think, which was the last year that we were required to take the class.  As I recall he was a bit of an eccentric man as well as quite stern and strict.  He did not endear himself to his students, resulting in many students not continuing in French in the following years who might have done so with a different teacher.  I was tempted to opt out of French as well, but there was something in his eccentricity that kept me interested. He had a dry wit that every now and then would make an appearance, so I stuck it out.  For some reason, however, he did not care much for me.

2. From the same year, but in the first semester: I had a 90% in Chemistry 30 at mid-term.  My teacher’s comments:

  • “does excellent work consistently”
  • “Well behaved”
  • “It’s not too late to improve this mark”

Wait–what?  Improve this mark? I was sitting at 90%.  Hilarious.

3. Grade 5 teacher’s comments:

Marc does well with math, but could do better if he gave a little more effort and consentration.

Our parents were supposed to sign our report cards and then we would return them to our teachers.  You’ll notice that the teacher spelled “concentration” incorrectly.  My mom evidently underlined the “s” in concentration before sending the report card back with me.

My teacher replied to this underlining: “Thanx, I’m only a teacher.”

Also hilarious.

4.  Finally, a progress letter from my Grade 3 teacher, which said, “Marc needs to work harder at not talking out of turn.”  That’s funny only because I still have to work hard at not talking out of turn.  If seminary professors gave report cards, it’d probably say something similar.

A chart for your edification.

I just spent way too much time creating the following line chart, which shows the relationship between how full my schedule is and how much blogging I do:

Busy-ness vs. Inspiration Ration

As you can see, my Busy-ness to Inspiration Ratio is pretty high (or is it low? I can never remember.)  September was a productive month both in terms of homework and assignments and blogging.  October, thus far, is a relatively slow month in terms of school work and my blogging quantity reflects that fact.

Comparing this empirically-sound chart and my calendar, I predict that blogging will pick up significantly near the end of November, with a chance of intermittent posting for the rest of October.

Lord of the Rings

Dixie didn’t think this was funny, but for some reason it made me laugh.  It might be because this scene near the end of Return of the King (the film) has always annoyed me:

Somehow I wound up watching this–“How Lord of the Rings Should have Ended“:

If you go to the YouTube page for it, you’ll see that THERE ARE SEVENTEEN THOUSAND COMMENTS FOR THAT VIDEO. Nerds and haters arguing. Hilarious (and you all know how much I love Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings books, right?)


And here’s French & Saunders’ brilliant Lord of the Rings Fellowship of the Rings film spoof:

Greenwashing, non-socialist talking beasts

Via my friend Chris (no, not you), I introduce my readers to the clever, subtle, hilarious and informative comic art (comart? cart?) of Lunchbreath.  Some samples A couple of links to a couple of samples:

And have a look at the rest of his Infotoons set.


Citizen Kane

A classic Kids in the Hall sketch, “Citizen Kane”:

A bit violent at the end there.

I wandered into a bargain shop in Steinbach a couple of days ago and they had season 1 of the show on DVD for $5! Happy find.

Well now I’ve gone and spent a good hour or so hunting up Kids in the Hall sketches on YouTube (looks like I could have seen most of the show online and saved the $5). I always preferred the odd and off-the-wall Kids in the Hall over their material which pushed the proverbial envelope. Here, then, are some of my favourites–this will give you a peek into the formative comedy of my youth (for good or ill).

Seven Things to Do
Mr. Heavyfoot
Car Won’t Start
My Horrible Secret
Will Do Guy

And of course there’s The Pen, one of their best.