Should I Walk Into That Mysterious Column of Towering Light?

Hey guys, I’ve got a question for you – you know that towering column of light we’ve been staring at for the past half hour? Yeah, the one over there that starts at that seemingly random point in the open field, and then shoots straight up into the heavens with no visible stopping point.

column of lightWell, what do you think about me going down there and walking right on into it?

Now, I know it might sound a little crazy. I mean, we have no idea where this beam of light is coming from. God? Aliens? A sentient race of nomadic space dolphins? WHO KNOWS!?

And sure, we can sit here staring at the thing all the live long day trying to figure out what the heck it is or why the heck it’s there, but let’s face facts, all that talk isn’t going to get us any answers.

And, well, don’t get me wrong – I’m having a blast up here on this hill with you guys, just staring at that mysterious column of light and saying, “what the heck is that thing?” over and over again. But to be honest, at some point the novelty of gawking at a massive vertical column of light is going to wear off.

And for me, that point was about five minutes ago.

Which is why I think I should head on down there and walk into that towering column of light. I mean, it’s really the next logical step, don’t you think? We’ve SEEN the thing. Now it’s time to walk inside of it and try to figure out what makes it “tick.”

Sure, it COULD be dangerous. I suppose that one possibility COULD be that the beam of light is so incredibly powerful, that it causes my body to explode on contact into a white-hot fireball of energy. But just because that’s what happened to Davey when he walked into it, that doesn’t mean it will happen to me.

I don’t know, maybe the beam of light used up all its energy on Davey. Did you think of that? Or maybe, the beam has to kill one guy before the next guy can safely bask in its perfectly cylindrical containment of pure white light.

Seriously, it’s not everyday that you happen upon a towering column of light while out camping with your buddies. If you’re lucky, you encounter such a magnificent beam of light one, maybe two times tops in your lifetime.

Well, if you guys want to go back to the campsite and roast marshmallows while thinking about what could have been, go right on ahead. I’m going on down there and I’m going to walk into that towering beam of light. Sure, I might die, but I also might be imbued with the answers to all of life’s biggest questions. Like why all the best-tasting foods have to be so bad for you.

Or, maybe I’ll ascend up to a wondrous city in the sky where people can have telepathic conversations with dolphins and waterslides are the primary mode of transportation. Is that a world you’re willing to miss out on? Well, not me.

So go ahead. Go back to your warm sleeping bags and sorry excuse for a light source (the campfire). I’m marching into that towering beam of light, and there is NOTHING you can say to stop me.

Mad Libs? Kyle brought Mad Libs? Well, then what the heck are we doing here staring at a boring old beam of light!?

Did you guys know that “fart” can be used as both a verb AND a noun!? WELL IT CAN!! Come on, guys!! LET’S GET OUT OF HERE AND GET OUR MAD LIBS ON!!!!

——

If you liked this, then other humor blog posts you may like include:

How To Dispose of a Dead Body

First-degree murder. Someday it will be legal (God willing), but for now, us “outlaws” have to keep things on the down low. Let me guess, right now you’ve got an ex-loved one dead on the ground behind you (it’s your wife, isn’t it?) and you’re struggling to keep all that blood on your hands from getting all over the computer keyboard.

dispose of dead bodyI bet you thought the hard part was over. Well think again, buddy, because no matter what your motive for revenge (wifey was gonna call the cops, wasn’t she?), now you’ve got a big, heavy body to dispose of. And guess what? That cumbersome pile of flesh and bones is gonna start smelling pretty foul any minute now.

You’ve got to get rid of that body fast. And if you want to get away with your “crime” so you can enjoy your newfound freedom, then you’ve also got to be careful. After all, this isn’t your cocker spaniel’s dog poop we’re talking about here – you can’t just throw it onto the neighbors’ lawn and expect the problem to disappear on its own. You need a plan. To help out, here are some of the best ways to dispose of a dead body:

Dump the body in the woods: Our nation’s wooded areas are riddled with dead bodies. And why not? Dense forests provide plenty of cover during the actual burial. Plus, the body is unlikely to be found, because very few people go digging random holes in the middle of the forest (unless they’re burying a body, in which case, you probably won’t have to worry about them alerting the authorities).

Bury the body at your house: If you’re worried of being caught red-handed out there in the real world, use your own property to bury the body. That backyard rose garden is a perfect place to hide a body (bonus: human bodies make great fertilizer – those roses are gonna look great when spring comes around next year). If you’ve got nosy neighbors, then bury the body in the basement or encase it behind a bedroom wall. If you choose the latter, be sure to stock up on Febreze – that decomposing body is gonna get pretty rank.

Roll the body up in a carpet and throw it off a bridge: Got blood all over your tiger-skin rug? Kill two birds with one stone and throw the evidence and the deceased off a nearby bridge at the same time. Tip: choose a bridge that’s over a body of water. That freeway overpass may look convenient, but when that rug starts blocking up traffic below, someone will eventually look inside of it.

Chop the body into little pieces: Bodies are harder to identify when only partial remains are found. Make the cops work for that positive identification by dumping various parts of the body throughout the nearby city and countryside. Good places to drop body parts include dumpsters, lakes and the rental return box at Blockbuster.

Use acid to dispose of the body: If you’ve got a few barrels of sulfuric acid lying around (and who doesn’t these days?), you can get rid of the remains altogether by dissolving it. Be sure to place the body in a container that the acid can’t eat through. After neutralizing the acid, ideas for getting rid of the sludgy remains of the body include flushing it down the toilet, pouring it down a storm drain, or baking it into banana bread and feeding it to your enemies.

If you liked this, then other humor blog posts you may like include:

I Think This Tunnel of Love is Broken

Uh, hello? Pardon me, Mr. Carnie man. I don’t mean to question the integrity of your fine traveling carnival here, but I’m going to have to go ahead and inform you that the Tunnel of Love is broken.

tunnel of loveNo, our little boat made it through the water just fine. And the displays of cupid, the wedding ceremony, and the hot men holding puppies were all in perfect working order. It’s just that, well, I just went through a Tunnel of Love, and I am very unhappy to report that my date gave me ABSOLUTELY NO LOVE!

I mean, I don’t know what your definition of “love” is, but what I got in there certainly was not it! Because a cold shoulder and an awkward conversation about the weather is not what I expect from a Tunnel of Love.

What did I expect? Some sort of physical contact, that’s for sure. I mean, bare minimum, an HJ. But I got absolutely NOTHING while I was in there. No cuddling. No smooching. Not even an “accidental” boob graze.

She was on guard the entire time! And I know it has to be your ride that’s the problem, because I did my part. I bought her a corn dog for dinner. I got dressed up in my classiest  cut-off shorts. And I am virtually swimming in Stetson cologne! The pump was primed, baby! THE PUMP WAS PRIMED!

I don’t know, maybe if you added a sepia filter to the whole ride. Chicks dig sepia tones. Or, maybe instead of pleasant harp music, you could pipe in some grunts and moans of people making love. That’s pretty sexy, right?

I mean, sure, I’ll admit there’s some pretty romantic stuff in there. The rose petals in the water, the animatronic frogs on the bicycle built for two, and the dancing teddy bear holding the box of chocolates were all nice touches. But SOMETHING in there needs fixing, because I pulled my little guy out in plain view and everything, and my date wouldn’t even LOOK at it, let alone touch it!

Look, I know I’m no prize pig. The balding hair, pudgy physique and flipper hands don’t exactly work in my favor. That’s why I use someone else’s photo on my eHarmony profile. But for Christ’s sake, if you call a ride the goddamn Tunnel of Love, you better deliver some goddamn love!

Which is why I’m going to have to go ahead and ask for my two carnival tickets back. Why? Because I was unsatisfied with the ride, that’s why. I mean, the Tunnel of Love? Come on, that’s false advertising. You know what you should call it instead? The Tunnel of Revulsion. Because that’s the emotion that was written all over my date’s face right before she threw herself from the still moving boat and ran screaming into the countryside.

You’re not going to give me my tickets back? Well too bad, buddy, because I ain’t leaving until I’m happy! Which means you either give me my two tickets back, or you give me an HJ. The choice is yours.

——

If you liked this, then other humor blog posts you may like include:

Thoughts About Insects

If my wife was an insect, she would probably be a centipede, because, man, she sure spends a lot of money on shoes.

Sometimes I think it would be helpful to have the strength of an ant, and be able to lift 10 times my body weight. Like last week, with that new sofa I had to move into the living room. Or like right now, with this giant boulder crushing my torso and legs.

I think the one downside to being a wolf spider would be having to eat my own young.

If you ever see a vampire kill a mosquito, feel free to call him a hypocrite.

“Where’s your God now?” I yelled out as I stomped my shoe down onto the praying mantis.

When it all comes down to it, you insects are not so different from humans like me. Like the moth, I enjoy the comfort of a fine wool suit. Like the housefly, I enjoy eating sugary snacks. And like the cockroach, I enjoy laying my “eggs” in animal feces left on the side of the road.

——

If you liked this, then other humor blog posts you may like include:

My Father, The Zombie

My father has had to overcome a lot in his life. He was born an orphan, had to work two jobs to put himself through college, and is allergic to tomatoes (which are in more things than you think). Also, he is a zombie. So I imagine that’s pretty hard on him as well.

zombie dad manDespite all this, my dad is probably the greatest dad that ever lived. Well, technically I guess zombies aren’t alive. They’re undead. But still, that doesn’t stop him from being a pretty great father.

He always tries to take an interest in my hobbies, even when I know he’d rather be doing something else (like eating brains). For example, he’s never missed a single one of my football games. Sometimes, he gets so into it, that he skulks onto the field and tries to open up the passing lanes by grabbing the necks of the opposing team and biting at their helmets. Of course, if any other dad did that, it would be game interference or something. But penalties really haven’t been an issue ever since that first ref tried to get my dad ejected.

I may not like it all the time, but my dad also pushes me to do my best in school. He’s always telling me to do my homework and to study hard. That way, he says, my brain will get “really big and juicy.”

Still, I guess all parents can be a little embarrassing at times. My friend Anna always talks about how humiliating it is when her father gives her a hug in front of all her friends. I tell her, “That’s nothing. My dad punches through walls and tries to eat my friends’ brains while they’re going to bathroom!”

So yeah, I guess we all have to deal with something.

And sometimes I’ll admit that he puts a little too much pressure on me. He’s always talking about how I’m going to lead the great zombie apocalypse. Okay dad, maybe. But I’m only 15 right now. What if I just want to be a graphic designer or manager at Applebee’s or something? We’ll see, I guess.

It’s things like that that sometimes make me wish his brains had never been eaten by that marauding zombie horde on the outskirts of town. But then I think of all the good things that have come out of it, like how we spend more time together. It used to be that he was out working at all hours of the day. But now, half the time when I get home and expect him to be gone, I find him pressed up against a corner of the room, just walking in place.

I know, I know. The only reason he’s still there is because he couldn’t find the front door, but still, it’s nice to see him more often.

So while sometimes I may think about shoving a crow bar into his brain stem and killing him like my school guidance counselor suggested, the truth is I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else in the world.

Honey, the Hovering Black Orb is Back Again

Honey, the doorbell just rang and, well, you’re not gonna believe this. The hovering black orb is back again.

Am I sure!? Honey, IT’S A HOVERING BLACK ORB! It’s not like I can mistake the gosh darn thing for the mailman or anything!

floatingorbLook, I know I already asked you this, but are you sure you’ve never met this thing before? It’s about the size of a basketball, defies gravity, and emits bright, pulsing beams of light? Maybe from yoga class or something?

No? Well, okay, you don’t have to yell! Excuse me for trying to figure out why the heck a perfectly spherical piece of metallic onyx keeps showing up on our doorstep! I mean, if a hovering black orb rings your doorbell, you’d THINK it would know someone inside!

Wait a second! Remember that scientist guy we met at the flea market a few months back? Yes, you do. You remember. He sold us the antique cuckoo clock – remember? Oh, what was his name?

Mark! Yeah Mark. Do you remember Mark? What did he look like again? He didn’t by chance happen to look like a floating black orb of some kind, did he?

Oh, that’s right. He was an Asian fellow. Bifocals, balding, big smile – now I remember.

Well, there goes my theory. I was thinking maybe the orb was Mark.  Perhaps we forgot our receipt or something and he tracked us down…

Hmm…well I would say let’s just chase it away with the broom again, but Lord knows it’ll just come back. I sure wish I could just talk to the darn thing and ask it what the heck it wants. But every time I try and strike up a conversation, it just chirps at me with a bunch of beeps and boops.

And sorry Orby, but this here is America! Which means I don’t speak no silly Beep-Bop language. I SPEAK AMERICAN!

Maybe it’s in a Girl Scout troop and is trying to sell us cookies? No, that doesn’t make sense. It would be wearing a sash if it was in the Girl Scouts.

Jehovah’s Witness, maybe? Those guys are pretty persistent. I chased one of them away with a broom once, and he came back too. But still, it doesn’t seem likely. Those guys tend to travel in pairs, and there is definitely only ONE hovering black orb out there right now.

Alright, well that’s it. As far as I’m concerned, that floating orb has no business being on our doorstep. Maybe if I chase it into the sprinklers, it’ll short-circuit or something. Will you keep an eye on the thing while I go grab my swim trunks? Thanks!

Oh, and honey, take this glowing green rock that I found in that pit last week where the meteor crashed. If the orb tries to come inside, maybe you can hit it with the rock to scare it away or something. Okay, I’ll be right back.

——

If you liked this, then other humor blog posts you may like include:

You May Also Like: