The Best Practical Joke I Ever Played

This is one of the funniest (and kind of mean-*cringe*) pratical jokes I have ever played on someone.  In order to set the scene, you have to understand that my Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (see this link for a list of Blogs – with links – categorized by the authors MBTI) states that I am an ESFP.  This tells you right up front, what type of personality I am to pull off such a prank.

Knowing from my personality type that I’m usually the last one to leave the party, or the conversation, and I’m also a night owl, it wouldn’t be too hard for you to understand that when I was in college, I would routinely return to my dorm room, to get a couple hours of sleep, around 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning.

On this particular night, or should I say morning, I came back to my room to find my roommate, Don, sound asleep.  No surprise there.  We barely saw each other due to the fact that he was always asleep when I came in and he aWhat time is it?lways left in the morning before I would regain consciousness.

I decided to turn his alarm clock forward so that he would think it was around 8:00 am instead of 2:00 am.  Once I manipulated his clock I then recruited the help of my willing cohort, Steve, who had just been hanging out with me in the lobby a few minutes earlier. 

I turned the light on, and took my shirt off, so that I could be putting it on as I woke my roommate to ask him if he was going to go to class that day.  He couldn’t believe that he had slept in.  What happened to his alarm clock he wondered.  I could tell be the way he was examining it closely, he was wondering why his alarm had failed him.

Just then, my hired help, Steve, came walking down the hall and poked his head in our room and asked if I was going to breakfast.   I think this was the probably the key factor that caused my roommate (who at this point was worried he was going to be late for class) to jump out of bed and grab his shampoo and towel and head straight down the hall to the showers.

My partner in crime and I couldn’t believe it.  He actually bought it hook, line and sinker.  We were laughing so hard that we had to run down the hall to the other restroom for fear that my roommate would hear us.  OK, so now what.  Don is in the shower.  It wouldn’t be long before he comes back to the room and there we would be guilty as charged.

However, I decided that the best way to handle the situation was to return his clock to the actual position of 2:06 am, turn off the light and hop into my bed.  I had said goodbye to Steve and told him I would fill him in on the details the next day. 

Sure enough, within a few minutes, my roommate returned from the shower.  He opened the door and flipped the light on.  No quicker had he turned the light on, when he flipped it off.  It was the only kind thing to do, since afterall, I was asleep in bed, or so he thought.

Once the light was off, I was able to open my eyes and see what he was up to.  He must have sat there in the dark and stared at his alarm clock for a good 3-4 minutes.  I’m sure that he wondering what had just happened to him.  I didn’t say a word, and he didn’t ask me anything.  He simply took his school clothes off, and crawled back in to bed.

I laid there waiting for the question.  I couldn’t imagine that he wasn’t the least bit curious.  My mind started to wander.   Hmmmm… maybe he was plotting his revenge.  Oh, no, what had I done.   Was I going to, now, have to live in fear that the other shoe was going to drop at any moment.  My mind continued to wander and it wasn’t long before I thought myself to sleep, not realizing that I had even fallen asleep until I aroused the next morning.

Upon regaining my awareness to my surroundings, I look around the room to see if he had set any traps for me.  Hmmm… nothing out of the ordinary.  Was he waiting outside the door?  I slowly opened the door and peeked around the corner.  The hall was empty and all I could her was a couple of buddies chatting it up around the corner.  Don, was no where to be found.Breakfast with Friends

Confused, I jumped in the shower, purposefully checking to make sure that it was shampoo in the bottle and not Nair.  Everything seemed to be perfectly fine.  I arrived at the cafeteria and with normal reckless abandon grabbed a plateful of the most appetizing things available, which usually ended up being a bowl of cereal and some toast or toasted waffles. 

I found a table of some friends and preceeded to tell them what had happened the night before when they all started laughing hysterically.  Now, I thought it funny myself, but not to deserve this reaction.  Curious, I asked, what it was that was so funny.  One of them spoke up and said, “Don, was just here and told us he had a dream last night that it was time to get up and it seemed so real to him that he actually got up and took a shower.  He said it must have been a dream, because when he got back to the room, it was actually just after 2:00 in the morning and his roomate was still asleep in bed.”

Suddenly it became clear to me, why there had been no revenge plotted.  He didn’t even realize that I had done anything.  Oh, my gosh!  I couldn’t believe it!  Well, I eventually caught up with Don, as I now felt bad and wanted him to hear the truth from me, rather than hearing it from someone else making it look like I had been bragging about it all over campus, although I had.  I couldn’t believe it when I told him what I had done, he actually started laughing himself.  He thought it was hillarious and couldn’t believe I had thought of that.  He said he wasn’t upset at all… or was he?

 

** I must give Wendy Friedrich credit for jogging my memory of this great prank.  She started a great discussion thread on BlogCatalog about “Practical Jokes”.  Thanks Wendy!

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Woman shot in head, by Pillsbury Doughboy

Pillsbury DoughboyIf I had not had heard this story directly from the woman it happened to, I would not have believed it myself.  My friend, who is originally from southern Oklahoma and used to make Reba’s dresses when Reba was still running around skinning her knees and playing with the boys, is the biggest hoot you would ever want to be around.  The way she told this story with the sweetness of her backwoods Okee from Muskogee accent was just to die for.  I will attempt to recreate the story for you here, so you will not only be more careful the next time you go shopping, but you will want to subscribe to my blog so that I may continue to entertain you in the future.

My friend, let’s call her Betty, owned a convenience store with her husband in a small town south of Tulsa, Oklahoma.  She was was headed home from the local grocery store on a sweltering, hot day in August.  Still a little edgy from being robbed at gunpoint just a week earlier, she was just driving along, minding her own business when all of the sudden, she heard a loud pop.

Immediately upon hearing the loud noise, which sounded like gunfire, she felt something hit the back of her head with incredible force.  It was enough to knock her forward and cause her to almost loose control of the car.  Fearing the worst, she pulled over to the side of the road to asses the damage.  Before she could even get to the side of the road, her head started throbbing from the gun shot.

Being that the bullet had struck her in the back of the head, she was not able to look directly at the damage to her skull, so she reached back with her left hand to feel around for any sign of blood.  The moment her hand reached the back of her head, she knew she was in serious trouble.  She could actually feel part of her brain oozing out from the back of her head.  She began to tremble as she knew that sudden death might become her if she didn’t take immediate and decisive action.

Knowing that no one was at home, and wondering how long she might have to live, she decided to turn the car around and head back into town to the emergency center.  With her left hand glued tightly to the back of the head to help slow the bleeding, her mind raced forward, as to what her husband was going to do without her.  How was he going to be able to manage the books of the store?  Afterall, she had been doing them since they opened the store more than 20 years earlier.  What was she going to tell her children?  Would she even have time to tell them anything?  How on earth would her husband be able to feed himself, much less clothe himself, as he had never once done the laundry in their nearly 45 year marriage.  Could these be the final moments before death?

Her thoughts came back to the present as she could feel part of her brain oozing between her fingers and she knew that time was short.  She decided to call the hospital ahead of time and alert them that she was coming so that they would be ready and waiting for her upon her arrival.

The next 3 minutes seemed like an eternity as she raced toward the Regional Medical Center.  She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about all of the things she wished she had done or wasn’t going to get a chance to do.  She worried about the little argument that she and her husband had been in, just that morning, because he had left his dirty cerial bowl in the sink, yet once again.  Now, it seemed so insignificant to her and she wished she could tell him how much she loved him and how much she cared about him.  He shouldn’t have to worry about all the little things because of all of the big things he had done for her over the years.  He was the most wonderful man she had ever known, and now she wasn’t sure if she was even going to see him again. 

She fought back the tears as they welled up in her eyes and made it even more difficult for her to drive.  The emergency room had recieved her call and said they would have several doctors ready and waiting when she arrrived, that she just needed to be safe and make it there as soon as possible.  How could this have happened to her?  They had felt so blessed just one week ago,  when they were robbed, that the gunmen had not even used his gun… and now this. 

As she rounded the final bend and pulled into the driveway of the hospital she could see the emergency staff ready and waiting outside the emergency room doors.  She sped up the driveway and skidded to a halt just as the medical team reached her door.  They swung the door open and tried to pry her hand away from her head.  She was unwilling to do so because she just knew that she was going to loose more of her brains and who knows how much blood. 

She finally started letting go, having been convinced that they could handle whatever was going to happen, when all of the sudden a few of them started laughing.  She couldn’t understand what could be so funny in this life and death situation.  How could these trained medical professional be laughing at a time like this?  The laughter started to grow until the point where everyone there was laughing and some were even doubled over from laughing so hard.

“Would someone please tell me what is so funny?” she asked.  The first nurse on the scene turned to her and said, “Well, you been shot alright maam…. by the Pillsbury Doughboy!”  She couldn’t believe her ears.  This was no time to joke around.  She had a gaping hole in her head and she needed medical attention immediately.  

The nurse continued, “Have you just been to the grocery store?”  “Yes, but what’s that got to do with anything?”, she snorted.  “Well, maam, it appears that your can of biscuits has burst and one of them is now stuck to the back of your head.”

As she slowly pulled her hand around and into view, she could see the dough stuck between her fingers and suddenly the whole picture became clear to her.  The heat of the day had caused the tin of biscuits to explode, which were sitting at the top of the grocery bag behind her seat, causing the sound of a gunshot.  The metal top, along with one of the biscuits, had hit her in the back of the head causing a somewhat sharp pain.  Allowing her brain to think that the sound was a gunshot, and the impact was a bullet, she naturally thought that the biscuit must have been her brains seeping out of her head.  She looked straight at me and said, “And, don’t you dare make any wisecracks about my brains seeping out of my head.”.  What?  I hadn’t said a word.  I couldn’t, I was rolling on the floor laughing about the whole thing, just picturing all of those hospital workers willing and able to help her out, only to find out who the real suspect was; that silly little Pilsbury Do Boy.

Needless to say, she’s a favorite around town now.  The story has not only been retold over and over again there in her hometown, but Jay Leno and some other TV talk show hosts, picked up on the story and now it has become somewhat of an urban legend.  My wife (Truthoughts) said she had heard this story, long before we ever met (six years ago).  So, now you know.  It’s true and now Betty has a much greater apprecation for life and certainly another story to tell at dinner parties.  I hope you enjoyed this story.  Leave me a comment to let me know or a link to your favorite humorous story.  Thanks!

A Redneck’s Guide to Success!

Get ready for a good laugh – This set of rules for a Redneck’s success will be certain to be uplifting and humorous. My wife (Truthoughts) and myself (OutsideMyBrain) put these together. Enjoy! You may copy this post in it’s entirety, as long as you keep the copyright symbol and the link to this post embedded on your website.

A REDNECKS GUIDE TO SUCCESS!

80% of success is just showing up…with a six-pack.

If you help enough other people get what they want, you’ll automatically have more people to call when you need to bail your mamma out of jail for getting into a brawl at the Piggly Wiggly.

There is nothing to fear, except having no beer.

Tough times never last, but tough rednecks do.

Two men look out the same prison bars, one sees mud,
and the other sees the truck.

The whole world steps aside for the redneck on a beer run.

We owe a lot to Jeff Foxworthy, if it weren’t for him, we’d still be called hillbillies.

Think, and grow a mullet.

Success is a state of mind. If you want to be successful, start thinking of yourself
as one of the Dukes of Hazzard.

While some people are dreaming about success –
rednecks stay up… and have a beer.

Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail of mud.

Progress always involves risk… you can’t steal your neighbors beer
with both hands on his sister.

Defeat is not the worst of failures.
Not to have tried (to outrun the Sheriff) is the true failure.

What would you attempt to do if you knew
that it would only cost a nickel?

The mind is like a beer can, it only works when it is open.

What lies before us, and what lies behind us are tiny matters when compared to
what lies on blocks in our backyard.

Nothing is so powerful as a redneck whose time has come.

Shoot for the moon…
even if you miss, you’re bound to hit a deer.

The past is history, the future is a mystery, today is a gift that’s why they call it…
ah, just get another beer!

Few rednecks have the strength to honor a friend’s success
without envy toward his truck.

There is no try… there’s only Git’r’dun or don’t!

 

Copyright © 2008 http://www.outsidemybrain.wordpress.com

This article can be found here:

 

A Poem for my Beautiful Wife… I love you!

You, my love, are beautiful,
Astounding beyond compare,
You’ve captivated my entire heart,
just by standing there.

You’re so tiny and petite,
Wrapped up in a little bow.
Your smile’s so bright and happy,
Giving you a warming glow.

You make me laugh so hard,
with your humor and your witt.
I keep on laughing, crying,
until my sides have split.

There’s so much I want to say,
that words can not convey.
You see my faults are many,
and love me anyway.

What gentleness I’ve found in you,
That moves me to the core.
Your love for cats is genuine,
for no one loves them more.

You love the Almighty God,
with all your heart and soul.
Pleasing Him in all you do,
Is your only goal.

The very thought of you,
Moves me me strongly still.
I’ve been with you these 6 years,
And have yet to get my fill.

Wanting you more and more each day,
That comes with rising sun.
Makes me feel as if our love,
Has barely just begun.

So as we wait here for the Lord,
To come and take us home,
We have each others love to share,
Until He says, Shalom!

Love,
Your Husband

You Can Tune a Piano, But You Can’t Tuna Cat… or Can You?

Have you ever heard the expression, “It’s like herding cats”?  Why do you think that expression exists?  Could it be that cats, unlike their canine counterparts, typically could care less if you want them to do anything.   Usually you do well enough to get a cat to come when it’s time to feed them.  And, just the opposite, most dogs can’t wait to greet you at the door, with tail wagging so expressively that their whole body shakes with enthusiasm, including the occassional tinkle.

Well, I’m not sure if our cats have decided to “disown” their feline natures, or if it’s because we treat them as if they are human, but our cats seem to behave more like dogs than than their species would usually ever admit to.

Their typical aloofness has been replaced by them either greeting us at the door, or racing down the stairs upon our arrival, from their comfortable afternoon nap and begging for our attention.  What?  Cats never beg, it is completely beneath them.   (Maybe this could be explained better by Jeane Nevarez, owner of two cats, who has done a great review of the book, The Nine Emotional Lives of Cats, by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson.)

 So, there they are, all mingling around the front door, brushing against us and wrapping their tails around our legs until we bend down and pet each and every one of them.   Ahh… to be loved like a dog owner!  The feeling is mutual and we return our love by showering them with praise and more pets than they could possibly want.  My wife excels in this area much more than me, but none-the-less, between the two of us, each cat is showered in love, giving them a sense of contentment no dog could ever realize.

What is also very interesting, to get to the meat of the title, is that I have managed to train our cats.  Yes, it’s true.  Let me explain.  Each night when it is time for my wife and I to retire, from blogging in the living room, and head to our bedroom upstairs, their is a mass exodus from our present quarters as most of them come running up the stairs, vieing for position to come racing into the bedroom with us as we settle down for the night.  More than once, she or I  have almost fallen up, or sometimes down, the stairs due to our cats perfect placement of themselves right where our next step is due to come down. 

 Once in the bedroom, I have actually now trained them that the bedroom is for sleep.  If they can’t settle down, then they must leave the bedroom and return only once they have settled down.  Of course, at first, since they have just burst up the stairs, their mere momentum of entusiastic bounding makes it difficult for them to settle down.   So, I tell them to get on the bed, to which they heed.  But soon, curiousity will get the best of one of them and they jump down from the bed to satisfy their urge, trying to figure out if that is a real mouse in the corner or just  a shadow of the curtains dancing in the breeze of the fan.

I give them one chance to get back on the bed, or be put out.  They know this because as soon as I get up to put them out, they race back toward the bed and resume their position.  Occasionally, one will jump down for a second time and sure enough, as soon as I get up, back to the bed they race, usually to bed down for good. 

However, lately, they have started making the choice.  They know the rule, no playing once in the bedroom, but sometimes, they are just still way too excited, so they consciously make the choice when I get up, to run towards the door, to be let out, rather than being put out.  They do their running around, outside the bedroom and when they are ready, they come back and let us know and in they come where they head direclty to the bed and settle down with the others.

Who knew, you could train a cat?  Have you ever experienced anything like this?  To find out more about me and my family, click on the About Me page at the top.

My Most Embarrising Moment…

Naked, slipping and lockeroom are three words that shouldn’t be in the same sentance… and yet!

So, this being my first post, I thought I would break the ice and let you get to know me a little better.  So here is my most embarrassing moment

When I was a freshman in highschool, I was thrown into a PE class of mostly seniors. It was all seniors and about 5 or 6 of us freshman.

Well, picture the “macho” men’s lockerroom during shower time. Gals, there is never a more insecure time in a man’s life than when he has to act “macho” around other guys, who are overacting their “machoness” to cover their own insecurities.

Things like, don’t pull the curtain shut behind you when you get in the shower. Don’t wrap all up in a towel just to get in the shower. The more “macho” you are… the more you just let things appear naturally.

So here I am during the first week of highschool, tossed violently into this situation and trying to handle it in most graceful (manly) manner. I toss my towel over my shoulder and head for the nearest vacant shower stall. As I enter the wood partition seperating the stalls, I throw my only covering (ya, right – it was on my shoulder, school issued towels are not that big), on the towel rack. I turn on the water and procede to step into the shower.

This is where things get a little crazy and very embarrassing

I somehow step on the leading 3″ edge of the shower, causing my foot to slide off of the edge and propel me, somehow quite rapidly toward the back wall of the shower. Somehow, the back of the shower unit is more like a trampoline than a wall and it rockets me backwards all the way out into the main room landing butt naked on my back. In front of all of the “macho” seniors whom I am trying desperately to impress.

Well, what happened next is probably just as funny and as incredible as the rest. I somehow managed to use the concrete floor as a springboard and bounce off my backside and right back into shower almost faster than I came out.

I never did live that one down… As I am fair skinned – some weren’t sure if they had seen what they had actually seen or if it was just a bolt of lightning.  (It sure gives new meaning to the term “streaking” huh?)

Oh my, what an experience.  So… if you have a funny/embarrasing story on your blog or know of one, post a link to it here in the comments so that myself and other readers can find some much needed comic relief.

You should subscribe to my blog as there will be much more coming soon. I look forward to reading your post. 

Sincerely,

OutsideMyBrain