Funny Friday

I need some funny today because I just got back from dropping the Baby at preschool where she refused to get out of the car at drop-off, forcing me to park on the street, carry her in the freeeeeezing cold into the classroom where upon her teacher had to physically peel her off of me so that I could leave. I came home and read the chapter in "Freeing Your Child From Anxiety" by Tamar E. Chasky, Ph.D. about separation anxiety and desperately wished for a few minutes that the hard parts of parenting could be outsourced. Apparently some role-playing and "good-bye book" making are in my future. That's the parenting shit that no one posts about on Facebook. It's moments like this when I need to focus on the end game: In 20 years they have to be grown and not living in my basement.

Alright, now that I've vented, on to the week in funny. One of my favorite websites for funny things is HappyPlace. That's where I found that sad, sad incorrectly spelled tramp stamp. Check out all the misspelled tattoos and you'll be happy that you just got a picture of your cat tattooed on your stomach:

Because when I look at my bellybutton, I too, think cat anus

Crazy Cakes

Happy Place had a series this week of absurd cake decorations and inscriptions, which is funny and you should check out. One of the cakes was this one:

Yes, that is a uterus and some ovaries. I was repulsed and fascinated and then I started thinking how gross it would be to eat any cake shaped like an organ. And then I started thinking about how we eat heart-shaped things all the time. I pointed this out to the K and he argued that they were all stylized so that they didn't look like an actual human heart. So then I decided to find some cakes that really look like organs:

Perfect for any occasion involving nephrology

For your zombie apocalypse party

This is the least creepy, somehow. Maybe it's the pacemaker.

Dad's Take on Occum's Razor

Moving on to something less gross. Remember my mention of Occum's razor? Well, Dad sent me this email:

I really enjoyed your last blog and am impressed that you mentioned Occam's Razor which I never discussed with you when you were growing up for the simple reason that I was unaware at time that Occam even owned a Razor.

I would have astonished me to have known that the good bishop was zipping around on a little aluminum scooter which I would have considered an affront to his dignity.

Also, it wasn't easy in Occam's day to use this method of propulsion be because of what we know today as "speed humps" but were then called "razor bumps" specifically to deter this kind of behavior from clerics. You will recall that this was first enunciated by Pope Gregory IX in his famous papal bull of 1381.

Being unaware at the time of the diminutive scooters, I concluded that the razor was to be found in Occam's Dopp kit or his Medicine chest along with jars of leeches and scrofula remedies.

I am indebted to you that it is an epistemological tool not something dreamed up by Gillette or a scooter company.

Well then. You see now how I turned out to be someone who finds pictures of cakes shaped like vital organs to be funny?

The Publix Product Arranger is a Parent

Another funny thing I shared already on Facebook, so pardon the repeat if you have already seen this:

My kind of product placement

Those are earplugs, conveniently located right near all the diapers and other baby supplies at my local Publix. What is your subtle message, Publix store organizer? Could it be that babies are screaming poop machines? Also, apparently the placement works because this was the very last box of earplugs.

Doraville

Our former babysitter just got a teaching job in a town north of Atlanta called Doraville. This prompted the following exchange with the Girl:

Me: Tara got a job in Doraville.

Girl: Does everyone in Doraville have really big heads?

Me: Uhhhhh. What?

Girl: Because, you know, Dora the Explorer has that really big head, so I bet everyone in Doraville has really big heads.

Dora's head has inspired this candy apple snack

Bad Poetry

Finally, I leave you with a poem by the Boy:

It's My Birthday

It's my birthday

And I got robots.

And my foot

Smells like pork chops.

Well, there you all have it! Cut yourself a slice of a lung-shaped cake and enjoy the weekend!