Blood Red

I’d like to take a break from the shitty ideas I gathered over vacation to bring you one of Joe’s famous awkward moments. You know … fucking mix it up a bit.

One day when Joe was in middle school, he was sitting in Homeroom chewing on a red pen. This was a bad habit Joe had developed, but I can assure you, after this day, he never chewed on a pen again.

Mid-gnaw, the red pen exploded.

Joe was desperate to get rid of the disgusting taste the ink was leaking into his mouth. He needed to get a drink of water, ASAP! Joe ran up to the teacher, approaching her desk to ask her to go to the restroom, when she noticed him coming towards her.

“AHHHHHH!” was all she could say.

The teacher thought the red pen ink was blood and started freaking the fuck out.

Joe tried to calm her down–to explain that he was not injured–but he found he couldn’t talk coherently because of the bitter red liquid filling his mouth.

Panicking over the red ink/saliva dribbling out Joe’s mouth, the teacher called the school nurse.

Joe tried to run out of classroom to the water fountain, but the teacher practically tackled him to the floor! She thought Joe had gone batshit crazy, bit his tongue off and was a danger to himself and/or others. No one seemed to understand that it was just fucking ink.

Eventually, when the school nurse got there, she quickly determined it was not blood and helped Joe clean himself up. But the damage was done. The entire class had seen this happen, and Joe was never looked at the same again.

To add insult to injury (even though, in this case, there was no real injury) the school insisted Joe have a  mental evaluation, even after it was clear that no, no … the pen had just exploded.

Bedazzled Orthopedic Shoes

This one came out of the blue one afternoon when Joe and I were walking around town on vacation. We saw this well-put-together woman in her 70s dressed in leopard pants and a sparkly black top.

“She looks good,” Joe commented as she passed by. “Except look at those shoes.”

Joe pointed to the beige, worn-out orthopedic shoes old people often wear. You know the kind.

“I’m going to make bedazzled orthopedic shoes. People like her need me!”

“Why even bother, Joe?” I asked.

“Because old people like to look good, too, damn it!”

Playing-cards Table Glue

While on vacation with friends, including Joe (can’t believe I just called him a fucking friend), we became obsessed with the card game Dominion. If you haven’t heard of or played this game yet, I am telling you … BUY IT NOW. It is as addictive as crack cocaine (not that I have that frame of reference, but I’ve heard things) and as fun as bubble wrap.

In fact, we became so obsessed, we played the game repeatedly inside the cold, dark beach house, instead of going out by the pool, the beach or just out doing things in general.

“Wow that was a great round, guys!” Joe said to us all after I beat everyone’s ass.

“Sure was … lets play again!” said another friend.

“OK,” Joe agreed, “but lets take it out to the pool.”

“We can’t, you asshat,” I chimed in (I was a little drunk-skies). “The cards will blow all over in the wind.”

“But they won’t blow everywhere,” Joe insisted, “if they’re glued to the table!”

Everyone’s eyes roll.

“Seriously, guys! This could be big! Now, regular glue just wouldn’t work, but what about tacky glue? You could glue cards to the table, or to one another, and then just pull them apart with just a little effort! Think of all the people in this world who like card games. Thanks to my invention, no longer would they be confined to the indoors … take your games to the pool, to the beach, to the moon!”

Your-fly-is-down Alert System

A bunch of college friends, including Joe and I, were invited to stay at a friends’ beach house this past week. Since Joe and I live close to one another, we decided to make the 7+ hour ride together.

Yes, I know. Fuck me, right?

I’ll save that story for another time.

We hit absolutely no traffic during the trip down and arrived way earlier than expected. Our friend was still at work for another half hour, so Joe and I decided to hang out in Best Buy to pass the time.

We found an empty Wii station and began playing Mario Party. Joe and I are both very competitive, so we quickly entered the fucking zone. We played for well over a half hour. Little kids were coming up to the game, looking at us like we should take turns with them, but we held our territory firm. A Best Buy employee came over driving a fork lift, trying to get down the narrow aisle, but still we didn’t move. My friend texted me and said she was done with work–that we could now come to the house–but we just couldn’t leave. I mean, we were only two mini-games away from beating Koopa!

When we were finally done, basking in the glow of sweet victory, I turned to Joe for some sort of celebratory gesture (maybe a high-five? A fist bump? Fucking something!), but his head was down.

I didn’t know what he was doing until he looked up at me, mortified.

“My fly was down this whole time!”

Now, laughter may not have been the correct response from me, judging by Joe’s face, but laughter is what I produced.

“This isn’t funny! he said. “So embarrassing. Why don’t they have some sort of alert system for this kind of thing?!”

And then, he went into Joe’s Shitty Idea Land.

“Yes, a Your-fly-is-down Alert System! I could rig a wire that loops around the top of the zipper-pull and attaches to the button. You’d have to fasten it every time you put your pants on. And if it wasn’t fastened for longer than a minute, an alarm would sound! No one would ever have to suffer this embarrassment ever again.”

Yes, because a beeping crotch is much less embarrassing than your zipper being down. ಠ_ಠ

A Vacation with Joe

These past few days I’ve been on vacation with friends. Somehow Joe weaseled his way into the trip. I mean, what’s a relaxing get-a-way without fucking Joe and his spastic antics, right?

Spare me.

During the course of our stay, many shitty ideas were shared. I can’t wait to unload them on here for all the internet to see.

They include:

• bedazzled orthopedic shoes
• carni-inspired restaurant
• your-fly-is-down alert system
• bouncy-ball wine bottles
• playing-cards table glue

Grab a big roll of toilet paper and stay tuned for the shit storm as I elaborated each of these stories …

Joe Gets Tough

Joe is a pretty easy-going, mellow guy for the most part. It takes a lot to ruffle his feathers, and he doesn’t always stand up for himself when he’s getting picked on or taken advantage of. He’d much rather laugh it off.

But sometimes Joe has to get tough. It doesn’t always go to plan.

Once in 7th-grade gym class, Joe and his classmates were playing kickball. It was Joe’s turn to kick, and one of the other fuck-tard kids decided to “pants” him. Basically, he pulled Joe’s gym shorts to the ground, causing him to trip and land spread-eagle in his underwear across the gymnasium floor.

Where normally Joe would pick himself up, pull his pants up and carry on like a soldier, this time Joe was embarrassed beyond belief. This “pants-ing” had happened right in front of his middle-school crush.

Joe had wanted to ask this girl out for weeks, but … that’s just not how he rolled. [SPOILER: He rolled single and fucking awkward.]

Joe was boiling with rage, silently fuming until gym class was over. Tired of being Mr. Nice Guy, Joe began to plot. Yes, it was time to get tough.

In the locker room, Joe planned to slam the kid up against the lockers, saying a line he hand-crafted all himself: “I’m going to fuck you up so hard, your mom won’t even recognize you!”

Fuck yeah.

All the boys headed into the locker room, and Joe put his plan into motion. He grabbed the kid, slammed him into the lockers and yelled with all the fury of a pubescent boy: “I’m going to fuck you so hard, not even your mom will recognize you!”

Everyone just stared…stunned.

And then, the chanting began. “Big Gay Joe! Big Gay Joe!”

Joe may not have earned the respect he wanted that day, but he did earn a new nickname that carried into high school.

Shower WTF

Joe makes rage comics. They never do very well (and you’ll see fucking why), but he makes them.

Now, he’s told me the story about his most awkward shower every, and I was going to write about it, as I love to do, but I thought you might enjoy the story as told by Joe himself, complete with drawings.

Enjoy.

Treadmill Bike

Joe came into work very sad today. I thought it was just a case of the Monday’s, but it was much more than that.

“Well, I blew it!” He explained. “I had my chance, and I missed a great opportunity. Big time.”

You see, Joe discovered over the weekend that one of his ideas from a few years ago, the treadmill bike, came to fruition. But not from Joe. From a company called Bike Forest.

He made me watch their goddamned “commercial” three times, pointing out all the things that made this invention so awesome.

“Joe,” I said, “this just proves what a shitty idea it has been from the beginning.”

But Joe was inconsolable. I kind of felt bad for the fucker.

Scratch N’ Sniff Mouse Pad

Texts between Joe and I:

Joe:  I’m so unmotivated today.

Me:  It’s Friday, what do you expect?

Joe:  But I have lots of work I need to do.

Me:  Then do it.

 

10 minutes later …

 

Joe:  Scratch and sniff mouse pads!!!

Me:  …

Joe:  When you start moving your wrist around on it, it gives off a lovely smell. Productivity leads to yummy scents!

Pipe Cleaner Shoe Straps

Usually I don’t think Joe’s wife’s ideas are as bad as Joe’s, but now I’m not so fucking  sure. This morning she shared with me a new fashion statement she’s been working on.

“Summer shoes are so cute!” she told me. “I went shopping at the mall and wanted to buy them all. They had really pretty ones with ribbons for straps that you can tie into a bow, and they had some where the straps could be crisscrossed all the way up your leg.”

“Yep.”

“So then I got to thinking, it’s really not the shoes that people like; it’s the straps!”

“Well I don’t know about …”

“That’s why I’ve come up with a whole new strap system for shoes! Pipe cleaners … you know, the kind you use for crafts? They’ll just hook to the heel of your shoes. Any shoes! And you will be able to mold them any way you want! And you can make them longer or shorter, or swirl them or tie them–the possibilities are endless! All I need to do is buy a bunch of pipe cleaners and package them differently.”

So what do we think, folks? Is Joe’s wife now the engineer of the shitty idea express?