Kernut the Blond » Humor

Mollie Lost Her Nipple In Purgatory But I Found It

Kernut — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 16:10:12 +0000

I found Mollie’s Nipple on the way to Purgatory. I can only assume Mollie is walking around with one nipple.

"Mollie's Nipple" in Hurricane, UT. I have no idea where the other one is. I hope Mollie still has it.

It’s a butte named “Mollie’s Nipple”. Makes you wonder if Mollie was a popular saloon gal back in the day. Or if she lost one in a bar fight.

Have you ever see a 100 year-old fruitcake? No, no, I’m not talking about an old gay guy. Geez, people. I mean an actual fruitcake. Found via RoadsideAmerica.com at the Hurricane Valley Heritage Museum, it was originally a four-layer wedding cake. Not sure when they ate the two missing layers, but unless they ate them with a hammer and chisel, it wasn’t anytime in the recent past.

100 year-old fruitcake. It looks like pale green/tan concrete with little dark brown rocks in it.

How about a 66 year old slab of now-petrified bacon? No? Well, here ya go…

66 year old bacon. How could you forget bacon in your freezer for so long? It's BACON!

They also have a dinosaur museum in St George, UT. Now, before you go getting the idea that, like most museums, there are dinosaur statues all over the place you should know there are just two statues. Well, one and a half really. One is just a leg. Both are replicas.

Dinosaur foot with early press-on nails. They were numbered back then.

However, what the . . . → Read More: Mollie Lost Her Nipple In Purgatory But I Found It

Blond vs. Blonde. Vanna, can I buy an “E”?

Kernut — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 16:06:41 +0000

Blond hair - no "e".

The “Blond” vs. “Blonde” debate.

Or perhaps I should say debacle. Yeah, it’s more like a debacle.

*sigh*

When I started this blog, I did reference the fact I tend to make a lot of typos. Just remember you were warned.

At that time I had no idea I’d misspelled the word “blonde” in my blog’s title. I was not trying to be cute or funny, I really had No. Idea. I thought blond with an “E” was the British spelling. You know, like color and colour.

Even now, the auto spellcheck feature in this text is highlighting blonde as being spelled incorrectly, and showing blond as being spelled correctly.

My defense? I was mislead by auto spellcheck.

Apparently blond without an “E” is the masculine version of the word. ??? I swear, I’m not a guy pretending to be a woman like some FBI porn sting operator.

And very shortly after I realized it was far too late to correct THAT major typo, I get these two emails from my mom (note the text in bold)…

—————————-

From: Mom To: Kernut Subject: TRIP

Hi,

It’ll be great to have you and Ms. Checkers come for a visit. Let me know what kind of food (for you and Checkers) I should get in.

I checked with cousin George in Vermont today — their area wasn’t flooded — just lots of wind and rain. My almost home state of North Carolina seems to be taking a lot of hits. . . . → Read More: Blond vs. Blonde. Vanna, can I buy an “E”?

The Matches Couldn’t Start A Fire With Gasoline and A Lighter

Kernut — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 17:43:00 +0000

Smart women prefer cats. This is from the Pickles cartoon strip by Brian Crane. He's probably very smart. His work is at http://comics.com/pickles/

Well, it’s been an interesting (read: weird and dull) couple of weeks with my latest Match.com escapades. (This is post number gazillion in my Match.com misadventures.) I’ve noticed a similarity between almost all of the interested men on Match.com: They will make an attempt to schedule a date, including one specific date and time with their request. In the event that ONE date and time don’t work with my schedule I return an alternate date or set of dates.

Then *crickets*

They fall off the face of the Earth and I don’t hear from them again.

???

Here’s the latest update on my Match.com Misadventures…

Zen Biker Guy: He showed up for date number two, lunch at a decent restaurant, wearing THE. SAME. OUTFIT. from date number one. (Faded blue jeans, a light blue chambray shirt, and black biker boots.)

But at least this time it was clean.

When lunch arrived he proceeded to shovel food into his mouth as if he’d been raised by wolves. And THEN talked with his mouth full. Every. time. Eeeeww.

Never mind the outfit, poor table manners alone are enough for dismissal. My family, while not necessarily having the most impeccable table manners, does lean towards the more proper end of the scale. (Yes, that makes me and my tacky blog The Black Sheep of the family. I prefer the term Blond . . . → Read More: The Matches Couldn’t Start A Fire With Gasoline and A Lighter

Blond Lemming Becomes Homicidal Without Carbs

Kernut — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 17:33:34 +0000

Blond = Me, Kernut the Blond

Lemming = A small, hamster-like rodent with suicidal tendencies, known for throwing themselves off cliffs for no apparent reason. I have lemmicidal tendencies.

Homicidal = Self explanatory. Does anyone know the statue of limitations for homicide? Why? No reason.

A lemming, probably preparing to throw itself off the cliff.

First, I apologize to you all for being MIA lately. I promise to finish replying to your comments and comment on your blogs as soon as I dig myself out from under my habitrail.

I’ve been in a serious funk for about a week. Just want to sleep all day. No energy, no motivation, and vacillating between feeling a tad homicidal or very depressed with lemmicidal tendencies. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me.

I’ve been eating super health, taking all my vitamins, and working towards Tim Ferriss’ The 4-hour Body’ diet. In a nutshell, it’s no sugar, dairy, carbs, fruit, etc. Pretty much no eating of anything that’s not meat or vegetable. Beans are ok.

It started with giving up sugar for Lent. I went three days without sugar before I wanted to punch some random bitch in a parking lot. Classy, I know. I’d given her a nice courtesy beep when she kept sitting at the green light. She had the nerve to bird-dog (see reference #4) me. Unlucky for her, we were going the same place. I said some things from my car, which she may or may not have heard, but . . . → Read More: Blond Lemming Becomes Homicidal Without Carbs

Lies My Parents Told Me

Kernut — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 17:20:09 +0000

(This post was inspired by Oh Noa’s on lying to her future children. It reminded me of the many lies my parents told us.)

I don’t know about you, but I need some humor while I sort through the Match.com adventures. So today I bring you Lies My Parents Told Me.

1. If you don’t behave I’m going to trade you in for new kids. My Dad said there was a catalog of kids he could trade us for. A catalog of good kids. Chickenbone and I believed this. We were cuter than we were smart. After my father threatened to do this one too many times, we got really worried. We told Mom that Dad planned to get rid of us by trading us in for good kids. After she stopped laughing, Mom told us that he couldn’t do that. Then she laughed some more. When we told Dad that Mom told us the truth, he laughed, too. That is, until he realized the threat was no longer valid.

2. This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you. Yeah, I’m an adult now and I still don’t buy that crap.

3. We’re divorced. They weren’t. Then they got back together. Then, years later, they got divorced. For real. This time they waited until the minute my father was leaving with suitcases in hand to tell us. Not much time for us to get used to the idea. No time to learn that divorce meant Dad wasn’t going to . . . → Read More: Lies My Parents Told Me

I Joined Match.com. Again. I Blame The Cold Medicine.

Kernut — Wed, 09 Feb 2011 16:43:34 +0000

Yes, I did. I joined Match.com. Again. I’m not well. I blame the cold medicine that got me to join the Booty Camp to which I’m now addicted. Those two things are related. No, I don’t know how.

It’s been about seven years and I’d forgotten about this part: I’ve got more Match.com emails and winks than I can respond to. There are many sweet guys on there who’ve written me. It’s really nice. And about time I got some interested attention from an emotionally available man. At least I think they’re emotionally available.

I know it’s only because I’m the “fresh meat” on the market that I’m getting all this attention and it will level out soon, but Holy Horny Ones Batman! I feel such pressure to respond.

Thank you to those of you who suggested I email that guy who caught my eye. He’s already responded FOUR times to my one. I think he likes me. Or he’s desperate. Huh.

Some of you, ok ONE of you, expressed an interest in the details of my profile. (The rest of you are under no obligation to keep reading.) Here’s a snippet…

I'm on cold medicine in this picture.

(I couldn’t decide on an opening line, so I chose both. I’m like that with restaurant menus, too.)

While “(secret login name)” describes my appreciation of meditation, and “Love is a process,…” indicates my desire for a LTR, I considered another opening line: “I’m here because I’m not all there”. . . . → Read More: I Joined Match.com. Again. I Blame The Cold Medicine.

How To Survive Giving Your Cat a Subcutaneous Injection

Kernut — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 20:59:49 +0000
Kernut’s Guide to Medicating Your Cat: What the Vet Doesn’t Tell You
Remember my cat with stage three kidney disease? There’s no cure, but there are things I can do to slow the progression. Among the lovely solutions: giving her 1/4 of a ten milligram tablet of famotidine (Pepcid) daily, and a subcutaneous injection of Lactated Ringer’s Solution twice a week.

I recently gave her the first injection – my first “successful” attempt at injecting a living being.

It was quite an adventure.

As you might have guessed, medicating a cat is a lesson in perseverance and pain tolerance. To save any fellow cat owners the unnecessary and exhausting steps of trial and error, I thought I’d share with you all my errors so you don’t need to try them.

Either of these procedures will also count as your exercise for the day. The gym can not compare to medicating a cat.
What the vet doesn’t tell you:
Before you leave the vet’s office, make sure they show you how to put the IV kit together. Let’s just say this step is very important and I wish I had known it.

Let’s start with How To Pill Your Cat:

You’ll need:
A pair of heavy duty leather gloves that go up to your elbows, the kind handlers of hawks wear. These are good for cat medicators, too. A face mask. Any kind will do, but I recommend one that is solid, rather than the Freddy Kreuger version that has holes in it. It . . . → Read More: How To Survive Giving Your Cat a Subcutaneous Injection

A Pigeon Named Spot

Kernut — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 02:10:12 +0000
Once Upon A Time, I Rescued A Pigeon.
A pigeon named Spot.

And I named him Spot.

When I first met Spot he was walking across a six-lane street during rush hour, headed towards the median. Cars were whizzing by him, but he seemed not to notice the imminent danger.

Or maybe he just didn’t care. (This will make sense later, just consider it Clue #1.)

Most people slowed down to let him pass, but no one stopped. Something was obviously wrong – he wasn’t even trying to fly as he ambled in front of the moving cars. I couldn’t believe no one was stopping to help him.

Well, I’m a sucker for a wounded animal, or a man with issues. It must be the caretaker in me.

I pulled over, and captured the pigeon in a towel. (A pity it isn’t so easy to capture a man.) I put him inside a box I had in my car. The pigeon, not a man. Unfortunately.

When I noticed he had a big wound under one wing I took him to a vet. The vet cleaned his wound, probably a cat bite (Clue #2), and sold me some bird antibiotics. He couldn’t fly because the bite was in the muscle used for flying.

Naturally, I took him home. (Did I mention it’s a pity men aren’t as easy to capture?) I planned to nurse him back to health, and free him in a couple weeks. I made him a nice, open box . . . → Read More: A Pigeon Named Spot

Ten Things: Crazy Street Names

Kernut — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 22:22:26 +0000
I was doing research for my day job when I came across Crazy Street names.
Honestly, folks. It’s moments like this that make made coming to work kinda fun.

(I wrote that yesterday. Today I was let go! OMG. It’s kind of a shock since in my review two weeks ago my boss said he ‘loved what I was doing, was really impressed with my level of knowledge’, etc., etc. Huh. But the man was never really happy with anything or anyone. Today he said the marketing wasn’t working. Really? Which part – the increased numbers or hordes of new clients? So many in fact, they couldn’t handle them all. Probably not much I could have done to please him. I’m happy to be among the newly FUNemployed.)

Not too far from where I are (it rhymes, just go with it), there’s a street named Avenida de las Pulgas.

For those of you who don’t speak Spanish, it means Avenue of the FLEAS.

Yes, fleas. Like what’s on the dog or the cat.

Freakstreets had many more. Streets, not fleas. Well, actually I don’t know about the fleas. They may have some.

For Ten Things Tuesday, I’ve picked out 10 of the best:

1. Ragged Ass Road, Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, Canada

2. Tapeworm Road, Bloomfield, Pennsylvania, US

3. Kitchen Dick Road, Sequim, Washington, US

4. Tater Peeler Road, Lebanon, Tennessee, US

5. Succabone Road, Mount Kisco, New York, US

6. Hell for Certain Road, Beattyville, Kentucky, US

7. Peepee Falls, Hilo, Hawaii, US
. . . → Read More: Ten Things: Crazy Street Names

TSA In Your Pants

Kernut — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 15:26:05 +0000
Can’t see London, can’t see France, unless we see your underpants.
TSA In Your Pants

Traveling for the holidays? I’m sorry to hear that, you have my sympathies.

Unless of course, you are hoping to be groped by a TSA agent. In that case, you have my congratulations as you will likely succeed. Enjoy! And please do ask them to buy you dinner first. It’s the least you deserve for giving it up to the TSA.

The Blog Gang is at it again and today’s topic is “Holidays”. I could write a whole book on holidays with the family, but they read this blog so I can’t. Instead I thought I’d share with you all a little Holiday traveling humor, courtesy – or rather at the expense – of the TSA and their new policy.

Without further ado, brought to you by the interwebs, and my old boss at the P.I. office: The new TSA slogans…

Safe Travels and a Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

The Blog Gang is below… please leave a comment and visit them, too!

Ten Things To Do When Bored At Work

Kernut — Tue, 19 Oct 2010 21:43:24 +0000
This is the beginning of a new theme: "Ten Things Lists". If I'm really organized (not too likely) and can remember (even less likely) I'll try to post one every Tuesday for "Ten Things Tuesday". Or maybe I'll just be random about it. Probably that one. . . . → Read More: Ten Things To Do When Bored At Work

Spam, It’s Not Just For Dinner Anymore

Kernut — Sat, 16 Oct 2010 16:25:24 +0000

The good kind of spam. If there is such a thing.

When it comes to spam, I don’t get the awesome letters The Bloggess and Mental Poo are lucky enough to receive. As they’re seasoned bloggers, the spammers know to send them their best “A game” letters.

The spammers save their “B game” for bloggers like me. Great.

In a desire to imitate those I love reply in kind to my spammers, for some time now I’ve been tempted to “approve” spammed comments just so I could respond to their clueless remarks for all my readers to see. (Other bloggers will get this. My apologies to those of you who don’t get it. Or blog.)

The only thing that’s stopped me is not wanting to somehow legitimize (as if this blog could legitimize anything) their URL, login ID, or IP address, the many ways the spam blocker software expertly identifies these spammers.

But, lucky for you, I’ve come up with a way around all that.

With some very basic cut and paste sophisticated software skills, I compiled a list of some of the more interesting comments. (My replies are in red.)

Spammapalooza. (click 2 times to embiggen)

Can’t you just feel the love? I know I . . . → Read More: Spam, It’s Not Just For Dinner Anymore

Happy Happy Happy All The Time

Kernut — Thu, 14 Oct 2010 08:08:51 +0000

Before we get started, the title is loosely borrowed from a song that is actually “Hockey, Hockey, Hockey All The Time“. I do love that song, it cracks me up! (Hi Canada! You give good song.) Now, on with the show…

It all began when I joined this gang. There was this initiation and a blindfold and some spanking…

Ok, that’s a lie. There was no blindfold or spanking (unfortunately). I joined a Blog Gang – we’re not dangerous. Unless you’re the English Language, then you’re screwed.

See what I mean? Apologies to English teachers everywhere.

Today’s Blog Gang topic is Happiness.

Wait – don’t go!

I know y’all come here for stories of my crazy childhood, dates with royalty, really funny Facebook stuff, horny pigeons, and the inner workings of brothels, but that doesn’t mean you won’t learn something useful from this post. (You know how I like to provide you all with an informative blog. You’re welcome.) On with our topic…

You are a space traveler. Seriously, will you stop trying to leave?! This is important. And I do (eventually) bring it around to the topic of Happiness.

The Universe. You are here. (probably best not to quote me on that)

Right now, this very second while reading this funny time-wasting informative blog, you are spinning anywhere between 700 (at the mid latitudes) to 1,038 (at the equator) miles per hour. AND, like a spinning toy top whirling around the drain of a big, . . . → Read More: Happy Happy Happy All The Time

Animals Behaving Very Badly – NSFW

Kernut — Wed, 06 Oct 2010 01:46:33 +0000
This pose is all too familiar. Soooo, do you think we got our mating habits from apes? Does this prove the theory of evolution? I think so. On both counts. . . . → Read More: Animals Behaving Very Badly – NSFW

The Gruesome Death of A Fly

Kernut — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 22:29:41 +0000
The Death of A Fly
Aren’t you glad you come here? Where else could you get such fascinating news as this? Nowhere, trust me.

A recent post about the death of a fly by my hot bloggy friend, A Vapid Blonde, reminded me of the torture we used to inflict as children on flies by making them pilots of small planes.

Criminal profilers say torturing small animals and insects is first act of future serial killers. Just a bit of foreshadowing that probably explains a lot about me now. And probably why I blog.

When we were little, my father taught us how to build small, light-weight paper airplanes. (I’ll skip the details of the airplane construction because I’d rather not contribute to the delinquency of other minors. Unlike my father. Hi Dad! He taught us all the great stuff like shooting, playing poker, and torturing flies by making them pilots.)

After capturing the fly, giving it a light freezing, it was then glued to the top of the airplane. Once the fly thawed out, we watched with glee as the unwitting pilot flew the tiny plane around the living room.

Sometimes the plane was too heavy and we’d have to start over with a new fly and a new plane.

I can’t count how many flies we put through this torture. But at the same time we used to feed the opossum that came to the back yard, and the ducks at the park.If only the flies had been ducks. Or . . . → Read More: The Gruesome Death of A Fly

Greeting Cards for The Zombie Apocalypse

Kernut — Sun, 26 Sep 2010 17:33:22 +0000
Their tag line? "Close Combat Techniques... because you WILL run out of ammo." Seriously, they're right. You will. They ask us 'When the dead rise, will you be able to dispatch them with a simple smile on your face and a witty comeback on your lips?' I think not. These guys are really smart - they're thinking ahead. They're thinking OUTSIDE of the Zombie box, people. We need to do the same or we're going to be left behind. That's when I came up with the idea for Zombie Apocalypse Greeting Cards . . . → Read More: Greeting Cards for The Zombie Apocalypse

If Facebook Existed Through History

Kernut — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 17:08:33 +0000

(Disclaimer – I didn’t write this. It’s too funny and creative, so obviously. I got it in an email from one of my awesome friends. I have no idea whom to credit for the following hilarious post.)

If Facebook Existed Through History:

My favorite are the last two status posts, God and Ancient Asteroid. I especially love the last two comments.

A Big Lump On My Butt Cheek

Kernut — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 21:30:54 +0000
A pain in the ass. P.I.T.A. for short. You might be thinking: 'Is she having kinky sex again? Did things get a bit wild?' Sadly, no. And it's not painful, anymore. . . . → Read More: A Big Lump On My Butt Cheek

Life Before The Computer

Kernut — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 18:06:05 +0000

Just a short post (that I totally copied from a funny email). (Just so you know, this isn’t plagiarism like what happened to Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka. No, seriously. It is not! This came from one of those e-jokes, and had no author listed. It’s totally different. Mostly because I’m just to lazy to write a real post today and this was funny. They typos, however, are totally mine since I retyped this from scratch.)
Life Before The Computer:
This is totally me when I work from home.

Memory was something you lost with age.

An application was for employment.

A program was a TV show.

A cursor used profanity.

A keyboard was a piano.

A web was a spider’s home.

A virus was the flu.

A CD was a bank account.

A hard drive was a long trip on the road.

A mouse pad was where a mouse lived.

And if you had a 3 1/2 inch floppy, you just hoped nobody found out.

Zombie Attack Plan – Got One?

Kernut — Sat, 28 Aug 2010 17:10:31 +0000

This is what they look like. Keep an eye out. No, not like an eye out of your head, just look for them.
Serious studies have been undertaken by scientists on the likelihood of civilization’s survival in the event of a Zombie Apocalypse.
I’m not making this up, people. Several scientific (?) groups have undertaken Zombology, the study of zombies, postulating the outcome of a zombie attack, and general zombie-preparedness. Finally, your tax dollars at work for something useful. Be proud your government cares so much for your survival they conducted zombie-attack scenarios on your behalf.

The studies agree zombies will be smarter, just like in the movies. Fifty years ago zombies were slow and not too bright, but now they’re quick, and resourceful tool users. Unfortunately, the studies don’t all agree on our survival: Some say civilization as we know it will survive, while others say we will all become zombies or die. This is not helpful.

A very conscientious friend sent me this Zombie Bite Calculator. He’s obviously concerned about the impending Zombie Apocalypse.

After a few quick questions, it calculated the length of time I’ll live after incurring a zombie bite before becoming infected. I’ll have an estimated 65 minutes. This is very useful information.

Now all I need is a “I’ve got 65 minutes to live” plan.

So I began to search Zombie Attack Survival Plans, of course. I found this quiz: Would You Survive A Zombie Attack?

My test results:
Would you survive a zombie . . . → Read More: Zombie Attack Plan – Got One?