The Captain's (B)log

Archive for the tag “humor”

Am I Racist if I Dream of a White Christmas?

Mexican and Black jokes are more or less the same… once you’ve heard Juan you’ve heard Jamaal.

I found this particular post quite informative and entertaining in it’s discussion on what type of being our fictional St. Nick really SHOULD be. Enjoy:)

penguin santa racism black and white


Evidently writing about racism is like working for the CIA:  just when I thought I was done and out, they pull me back in.  Race, racism, race baiting, race profiling, race walking, race horses, race for the cure, emb-race the suck—enough already!  It’s time that we as a culture dug deep, looked within, and somehow found the strength to stop being so stupid.

The latest manufactured media hullabaloo is about the race of Santa Claus.  That’s right, Santa Claus.  And it all started with Slate blogger Aisha Harris.



Aisha got everybody riled up by saying that Santa should be a penguin.

A what?


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Jack of all trades, master of none.

I’d like to open this post with a quick shoutout to the blogosphere. It’s been a while but I’ve renewed my domain in the wordpress kingdom (both literally and figuratively) and I’m back with a vengeance! Today I’d like to unveil the first in a mini-series on posers. People that pretend to perform the duties of a position perfectly but can’t produce palpable papers when put to the question.

Webster defines the word poser as

1. “Someone who poses.”

I thought my definition had somewhat of a ring to it but you’re free choose whichever you prefer.

In these episodes we will be primarily discussing those who’ve lied or otherwise used some medium of subterfuge to mislead others regarding their occupation and (as the title of this post suggests) our subject today is closely tied with the medical field.  funny doctor x ray photo There are many reasons to falsify details about your employment. Perhaps you’re trying to charm a prospective mate or you’re in the presence of a similarly gendered individual you intend to eclipse with your tales of fame and fortune. Maybe you’re an unfortunate sitcom character stuck in a mire of mystifying misunderstandings. Or… if you’re Matthew Scheidt, maybe you accidentally were given the wrong ID badge and decided that life has handed you lemons and you fully intend to make lemonade.

Scheidt, a 17-year-old Florida adolescent, born and bred, worked as a clerk in a doctor’s office. He was sent to nearby Osceola Regional Medical Center to pick up his employee ID. The office at the hospital was a busy one, and as a result Scheidt was punched into the system as a bona fide physician assistant, instead of Office Drone #923 that he was. Most people would have become slightly annoyed, corrected the mistake, and proceeded with their daily routine. Scheidt, on the other hand, took one look at his ill gotten credentials and thought: “I’m a medical professional now! It’s time to see the look on an innocent patient’s face when I’M the one placing the icy ear of a stethoscope recently recovered from the North Pole on a helpless victim’s chest.”

Scheidt pilfered some scrubs, a stethoscope (from the freezer I am sure) and wandered away to the depths of the hospital in search of prospective patients. How long would it take for YOU to be caught doing something like that? A couple of hours? A few days? Nope — for several fucking weeks, this acne afflicted adolescent went all Neil Patrick Harris, Doogie Howsering his way around the emergency room and hospital staff.

Despite looking more like Napoleon Dynamite than a Physician Assistant, he was overwhelmingly convincing and knew a boatload of hospital terminology (it simply didn’t occur to his new-found colleagues that so does literally everyone who has ever watched Grey’s Anatomy, House or any crime show on TV). Matthew was able to spout a few words ending in ‘itis’ and seeing as his ID checked out, he was allowed to roam free, handling IVs, conducting medical exams with real professionals, and he even administered CPR to an overdosing patient.

This NOT how I imagined my first kiss..

This NOT how I imagined my first kiss..


Matthew was eventually apprehended by law enforcement before he accidentally killed anyone in THAT occupational field. Undaunted by his brief incarceration, only months after his arrest, our out-on-bail hero fashioned himself to be a police officer. As luck would have it, a genuine undercover cop happened to bump into Scheidt, who was sitting in a FULLY EQUIPPED  undercover police vehicle, typing away on the dashboard computer and gleefully identifying as an officer of the law. Scheidt even reprimanded the authentic law enforcement officer for not wearing his seat belt! When perplexed police officers searched the car, they found it stuffed to the brim with cop gear: By some means, Matthew had managed to get his sticky hands on an Osceola County sheriff’s shirt, a real badge, handcuffs, and a stolen police radio. Oh yes, also a Taser and a fully loaded handgun. I am almost bummed we didn’t get to see this facade play out as long as the last.

In conclusion: pay close attention to your employees qualifications. I don’t want to go to a “dentist” and see a mallet labeled “Anesthesia”.

Make The Little Things Count. Teach Midgets Math.

Based On A True Story…

I recently returned from a 5 month stint in sunny Phoenix, Arizona to my small hometown in the panoramic mountains of north-eastern Washington. A few days before I left I visited the King Fish restaurant in downtown Tempe for a business meeting and there the plot proceeded to thicken. What does the valley of the sun, sea food or alpine scenery have to do with the title of this post? Humor me and hopefully I can humor you with that revelation.

As I opened the door for my business associate to enter the restaurant, out came the tiniest person I’d ever seen! The grey hair, wrinkles and cane stood (maybe) 3 foot tall on a good day. Defying the laws of physics, she peered over her oversized sunglasses up at my 6 foot 4 inch frame with a snide “Humph” and then proceeded to make her way out to the parking lot and what I can only assume must have been a step-ladder and one of those overpriced novelty baby strollers they call a ‘smart car’.

I thought nothing of the midget sighting till I spotted a similarly sized fellow at the Phoenix airport… and another gnome like individual in Spokane when I arrived home! Ever since that fateful day in the grand canyon state the sightings have increased exponentially; at the grocery store, at the gas station, in the children’s clothing section. At first it was singly, then in pairs, threesomes and recently congregating in both dark and light alleys while brandishing potato-peelers and burning XL clothing. Sensing a disturbance in the force, I have taken it upon myself to research and encapsulate the scope of what we are about to face.

Midgets get shot out of cannons and ride rockets every day ( check out if you’re interested). From midget car racing to midget wrestling and boxing to online midget tossing, TLC’s bad habit of making shows about them and the popular belief in their possession of magical powers in cyberspace, it’s time someone stuck up for the little guy. If I could refrain from a look of amused fascination every time I laid eyes on one then perhaps I would be that guy, but I’m not! Who doesn’t like watching little people battle? Those T-rex arms look cute until you see them kick ass and simultaneously instill within you a fear of small children and/or midgets. It’s like watching 1st graders fight if 1st graders knew Kung Fu.

What if the little people have finally had enough of being thirsty near water fountains, using nerd candies as jawbreakers and society as a whole looking down on them? The list of reasons for a global David vs. Goliath like confrontation is endless. I have it on good authority that from 1691 to 1695, midgets were legal tender in Austria. Even crowded elevators must smell differently to a midget. What if there is an organized effort for worldwide pigmy domination? What if height(or lack thereof)-ism is the new racism? This point of contention may dwarf in comparison but wars have been started over smaller things (all kinds of pun intended but for example, a postage stamp started the Chaco War). Yes, I’m talking about combat! Skirmishes! Onslaughts! And in some rare cases… even death.

I remained in denial right up until I heard about the psychic midget who escaped from jail, saw the headlines “SMALL MEDIUM AT LARGE” and realized this mystical little fellow must be their leader. Slowly but surely I have connected the dots. In short, I’m all for more education, awareness and peaceful resolution on the subject. In closing, watch your knee caps, keep your friends close and make the little things count. Teach midgets math.

Mental Musings

Anybody else imagine an emoticon winky face making a clinking sound when it winks like change falling into a coffer of various coins? Nobody? I’ve always had an interesting mind (and when I say interesting I mean abstract, most likely ADHD and definitely random) but recently I’ve realized how odd it really is. I notice it particularly when I think back out loud in my head (I’ve perfected this art) and go back over what I just thought. If it we’re a radio station it wouldn’t be lying about “more variety”.

Do you ever think about English words in pure noise form? DOOR. You look like such a dork saying that word. And there’s another one, dork. I’ve heard it to be defined as a male blue whale‘s reproductive organ but there are many interpretations. Then you get into the words that make you sound like Justin Bieber; “frothy, moist, supple”. But I digress.

I always find myself looking at certain situations and fantasizing about applying the same strategies in completely different situations in life. Like board games? Have you ever played Monopoly? Well Free Parking is where you land on a space and get all the money in the middle of the board that people have payed in throughout the game and it’s got this red parking meter fire-hydrant-lookin’-thing marking the space. Now… me being me… I began to think how awesome would that be! Getting paid to park? Sounds like a game show. “YOU’VE WON 1 MILLION DOLLARS!” Bob Barker walkin’ down the street, you’re posing with girls and confetti and everything…. then Ashton Kutcher walks up… “SUCKER! You’ve been Punk’d!” He trips and busts his head open, Bob disappears through a man hole, the girls get off break and have to go back to work at Hooters as a giant vacuum cleaner sucks up the red carpet, confetti and your car and you’re stuck with a murder scene (minus one car). No thank you. I knew there was a reason I’ve always hated that game.

8 Worst Getaway Vehicles Ever

More than sex, having a monkey or the ultimate bachelor pad… every guy wants to be a part of a heist. Some girls too I’m sure but I can guarantee that any fellow bromaster with a pair of wavos has at one time fantasized about playing an integral role in a classic bank robbery. But no one really thinks past that. Sure, pulling a B&E (breaking and entering) is easy but… how ya gonna get away? Honestly your guess is as good as mine but in lieu of an answer I’ve compiled a list of some not-so-great ways to extricate yourself from a similar situation.

1. Pogo Stick

Interesting. Pneumatic pogo stick/jack hammer concept design... you decide. Any potential as a getaway module?

2. Wheelchair

Redneck: disability equipped hunting device.

The Genghis Khan of all wheelchairs. Not sure if I should sit in it or mount it and mob to safety.

3. Stilts

This could be an awkward situation during a bank robbery. Take some notes from the cocky dude in the photo below bro.

Clearly a multi-purpose tool.

4. Unicycle

Creative.... "Your ultimate getaway vehicle! Get two people incarcerated for the price of one! No assembly required, two person vehicle, 5-10 years (minimum prison time)."

I'd like to draw your attention away from the picture above... now back to it... now back down here... Maybe a little noticeable in public but the cool factor far outweighs the disadvantage. OWNED!

5. Grocery Cart

Not a whole lot to work with here.

Now THIS has potential!

6. Hot air baloon

On the plus side: you're balloon would be equipped with a surefire counterattack for the lactose intolerant.


7. Hummer Stretch Limo

Officers in Topeka, Kansas had a relatively easy time closing the case of the Kwik Shop robbery by a man wielding a knife who was later identified as Erick D. Henson, 24. Why? Because a getaway car wasn't classy enough for Henson, he used a limo. And not just any limo - a white, stretch Humvee limo. Unemployed at the time of arrest, Henson was found drunk in the back of the limo by officers who located the limo about two miles from the Kwik Shop. But the questions only build with no apparent answer yet: where was Henson planning to go that night that he needed a stretch limo? Did he blow all his money on renting the limo and was trying to steal his driver's tip? And how exactly do you tactfully say to your driver, "Excuse me my good man, but would you be so kind as to pull over at Chez Kwik Shop while I rob them with my knife?"

8. Rickshaw

Ah... Vader. We meet again. Anyone ever robs a bank in a Vader costume and escapes in a rickshaw I will give you $500 cash. That's a promise (not an enticement to break the law... but to each his own).

For corporate thieves and criminals of an Asian descent that prefer to patronize more luxurious modes of getaway transportation.

Various other options in the deleted scenes of this post include (but are not limited to): Three legged racing, Bull riding, Horses, Stealing a moped, Circus elephants, Via email, Teleportation, Electric shopping cart, Kid size shopping cart, String of shopping carts, Ostrich, Sailing a Chinese Junk boat, Bamboo Train (google it!), Camelback, the Zorb if you’re in New Zealand of course (google it), and last but not least…. by Dog Sled. Tell me if this was something you could relate to. Peace!

Captain Obvious

From hanging out to hungover…

It was a Thursday night last night!? Suddenly there’s a party goin on and I’m downing bottles like there’s no tomorrow (for my liver). Unfortunately there was a tomorrow. Which is today. I was seriously out of it, don’t remember most of it. My favorite author was the guy who wrote, ‘Pull tab to open’. Found out one of my friends is friends with Star Wars and Jesus on Facebook (as he put it) which I thought made him pretty cool. I talked a lot. That’s the thing about alcohol. Hard A in = secrets out… and sometimes chunks if you have too much. Gotta love it. Drunkenness is bottled madness they say but I am quite the happy drunk. I don’t drink all the time but when I do I don’t take any prisoners, that’s for sure (I’m not completely sober yet so you will have to forgive me). I’m no lightweight but last night’s impact was equal to the time they gave alcohol to Eskimos. It helped that I hadn’t eaten most of the day.  Apparently I had a random girl call one of my very good girl friends ( 😉 ) and leave a voice mail telling her I really liked her. I told some girl her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center. I also made the astute observation that a red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon. Oh joy 🙂

The Rise & Fall of the Clipboard

We must still have at least 25 clipboards floating around our house and I’m not exaggerating. I don’t know whether it’s attributed to all of our inherent love for writing or perhaps our tendency to hoard random objects. I’ve used the word so many times that I call them CBs for short to save time and oxygen. My family had an inexplicable love for the little spring-loaded writing facilitators.They were such a coveted possession that when I was younger we used them as currency along with pens, pencils and (the ever-present top dollar object) candy! Sadly, this is not the case any more and so begins my story.

We’ve had more fights over clipboards and who they belong to than anything else I can remember. My parents got to the point where they made it Illegal to be in possession of a CB because we we’re stealing them the moment their backs were turned. Naturally we had to start an undercover Black Market operation till the use of clipboards was legalized once again but the verdict did nothing to reduce its popularity. If anything, it made them MORE prevalent. The kids would save up birthday money for clipboards, the older kids would trade for them with their friends and I was the guy to hook you up. If you wanted a CB you came to me. I owned the proverbial turf when it came to CB related transactions.

Ah… the good old days. When I got home from a few month stay in Arizona not too long ago clipboards lay hither and thither like so many discarded toys children were done playing with. Since I’ve been gone the intrinsic value of the CB went down by over 750%. Worst of all, I saw some of them ON SHELVES. A tragedy that never would have been allowed when the market value of CBs was at its peak. The inevitable had come. New technological gizmos and video games had overthrown our old friend. Alas, the CB has gone the way of the dinosaur, the Roman Empire and Michael Jackson but it will forever live on in our hearts… as we look back on the glory that was… the clipboard.

“35 Seconds!”

“35 seconds!” My mom said. I was visiting with my parents and the unexpected declaration regarding this measurement of time caught me off guard. “It’s been 35 seconds since you touched your hair! A new record!”. Then it came to me.

“Wh-whaaaat?” I said, feigning innocence. Yet another habit publicly exposed along with biting my nails and the rest of my somewhat OCD compilation. I recently started using conditioner and… well the results have made my hair quite succulent to the touch. Little did I know how attractive. I was messing with it every 10 seconds.However, this is not a new thing, it has just recently become more noticeable.

In tracing back my psychological steps to the origin of this habit a wave of memory washed over me. As a kid I loved the book Count of Monte Cristo and when the movie came out it instantly rose to the top of my Favorites List. In that movie Jim Caviezel (playing Edmond Dantes, the Count) is a tall, dark and handsome rogue (much like myself) who is imprisoned, finds treasure, exacts revenge from his enemies and in the end his old fiance recognizes him by how he twists his hair with his fingers.

Naturally I thought… what if I am to be married someday and get locked in prison for 50 billion years and come back out and get rich and need to be recognized by my former bride-to-be? To make a long story short I started twisting my hair behind me ear with my right hand and have been doing it ever since. I have (as of yet) never been engaged, gotten rich or been thrown in prison but I’m sure that fateful day lies just around the corner… and when it does come I will be prepared for it.

Now, I don’t suffer from some kind of disease and I’m not OCD in the least (In fact I’m kind of a slob sometimes) but there’s one other thing I always do. I have a drinking problem (it’s not what you think). When getting a drink from a cup (new or one I’ve used previously) I will always rinse it out three times in the sink before filling it. If I happen to rinse it four time by accident I will make it an even six but not five or seven. Always in multiples of three. Okay now… *retrieving memory from mind dump* the origin of this habit also came from a book I read as a child. In this book the evil King was poisoned by his son who then washed the royal cup out three times before drinking as the new King. Still not sure exactly why I found that important in the least but I rarely find myself NOT washing the cup I drink out of at least three times (just to be safe, I don’t have an evil son and I’m not a King but one never knows I suppose). Weird huh?

I also chew on pens and pencils with a vengeance but enough of MY trivial pursuits. I would like to hear if any of you have weird or even normal habits, especially if you can remember how they started and why and even if you can’t… give it your best shot! 🙂



Blogstipation- n. (BLOG-steh-PAY-shun)

1. Slightly contagious and somewhat amusing to watch someone undergo times, blogstipation is the avid writer‘s worst enemy. It is that point one reaches when at the end of their creative rope, a mental morass of unappealing ideas. Synonyms include: Writer’s Block… (what you want more?). Antonyms include: Inspiration, Creative Genius, Brainstorm & Writer’s Diarrhea.

Ex. “He was at the computer for hours, face contorted with exertion, as he battled the unyielding Blogstipation.”

2. See 1.

Quotes related to Blogstipation:

“Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day. The good writers are the ones who see five or six of them. Most people don’t see any.” ~ Orson Scott Card.

“Writer’s block is the greatest side effect of boredom.” Jason Zebehazy

Ladies and gentlemen I am currently experiencing this dreaded disease but should rebound within a day or two. I am currently accepting “Get Well Soon” and sympathy cards. Cheers.

Image Sources

I Speak Fluent Foodish

When questioning certain females as to the nature of their virtually non-existent eating habits, it quickly became evident that this was way out of my league… so naturally I took it and ran with it. I was informed that this is not a simple issue, with large words people don’t usually understand like ‘metabolism’ and ‘food‘. They couldn’t have known I have a second language. I speak fluent Foodish.

These girls are all “Oh yes I had this crumb for breakfast. Oh so delicious! And then the speck I picked off my plate for lunch? Mmm… scrumptious and that DINNER! OMG, words can’t describe how good that 1/32 of cake tasted!” Aspiring models reading Vogue Magazine and bragging about how little they ate… Really? First of all, that’s very dangerous. Everyone knows the leading cause of death among fashion models is falling through street grates.

NEWSFLASH: There’s a line in the sand between taking care of yourself and starvation. One stick figure of a friend actually gave this retort when questioned. “Well, there’s starving kids in Africa.” From personal experience, this statement will suffice as an answer for most questions on any subject… you should try it sometime! However, in THIS instance it was completely off topic. At least try to give me a slightly entertaining answer like “I’m trying to minimize my body mass so the aliens will have a harder time spotting me from space.”

Now, realistically, I can’t speak for all my sex (keep reading…) but I will do my best. I don’t claim to be a relationship expert but in the process of devastating the obvious I find it my duty to the blogosphere to give it my best shot. What man wants to hang around someone who pukes at the mention of food? That rules out like… half of our conversation topics and seeing how much you all like to talk, that’s mutually painful.

A walking coat hanger ready to faint never did anyone any good. Everyone wants to get SOMETHING out of life whether it be helping others, having fun, leaving a legacy etc (email me if you don’t want to get something out of life, you have issues). What we DO want is a real, live human being who doesn’t have to pursue their twisted view of ‘perfect’ all the time. We don’t want to have to look through a telescope to see your personality up close and personal. At the same time, we shouldn’t have to use a microscope to verify your waistline still exists.

My point isn’t as barbaric as “guys like curves”. It’s not about being the perfect model or a sex symbol. If you have to starve something, starve the ego. No one wants or needs a victim of self-image obsession, male, female, skinny or otherwise. I realize I’m targeting a select group of people with this post but it’s because there’s a very conscious choice involved. I hope that this article’s perspective has shed some new light on the subject. If so, this gentleman has accomplished his goal.

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