On Saturday I took a few hits, my friends. It was a good day, but I humiliated myself three times, within five or six hours. Rarely does a day go by when I don’t make a fool of myself at least once, but it usually doesn’t happen so often, within such a tightly-compacted period of time.
Here’s a brief rundown of events:
It’s been rainy and cold up here, so I wasn’t able to do the yard work until Saturday. I mowed the part of the yard that’s on a 45-degree angle, ’cause it’s dangerous, and made the two boys do the rest of it. There was some grumbling, but tough shit for them.
After I finished my part, I was spent. It kicks my ass, and my forearms are still hurting, four days later. It’s always sucked, but this year it’s really taking its toll. I think I’m starting to get old. But I took care of it, went inside to allow my core temperature to dip below 200, and went back out front to do some weed-whackin’.
I was almost finished with that task, when a part of the trimmer came off. It’s a round thing, with all the wound-up string inside. It just came sailing off, for no apparent reason. What the hell, man??
And when I bent over to pick it up… the entire ass panel of my shorts exploded. There was a loud ripping sound, and I think there’s actual fabric missing; I believe some of it literally disappeared. It was an amazing, catastrophic failure.
Just a side note: I later posted on Twitter that my ass had apparently declared a jihad on fabric, and… needless to say, somebody was “offended.” So tiresome, and so predictable. People loooove to pretend to be offended.
Anyway, we finished the yard, everybody showered, and we all walked around a park for an hour or so. It was a beautiful day — almost perfect — and it seemed like all of humanity was outdoors. It was really nice.
Then we went to an ice cream shop, located next door to a dairy farm. You can smell the shit of the very same cows responsible for the ice cream you’re about to eat… It’s quite an experience. Nothing says freshness, like the overwhelming smell of shit.
And, I don’t know what came over me — perhaps I was still loopy from the over-exertion with that push mower — but I placed the most EFFEMINATE order possible. My face gets hot with embarrassment, just thinking about it.
After Toney and the boys ordered, it was my turn, and I cleared my throat and said (oh god…), “Yes, I’ll have a small strawberry shortcake in a cup.”
WTF?! A small (dainty, petite), strawberry shortcake (what am I, an 11 year old girl?), in a cup (wow!). I might as well start performing in pageants, dressed as Cher. While the words were leaving my mouth, I desperately wanted to yank them back. Good god.
And later in the evening I bought a six pack of Troegs Pale Ale, and we were planning to enjoy them on the deck, before dinner. Toney went out there first, and I joined her a few minutes later. And when I sat down, there was a loud snapping sound, and I was somehow in a heap with the mangled chair on top of me. One of the legs collapsed!
Toney couldn’t stop laughing for about ten solid minutes, and I had a difficult time extracting myself from the latest carnage my ass had wrought. Holy shit, man! I’m fat, but not circus-fat. What’s going on?!
I decided to bring out a chair from the dining room, because they provide a more sturdy platform for my hams, and we successfully polished off those microbrews, without further incident. The deck didn’t crash off the house under my heft, or anything of the sort.
But it was a tough day for your husky correspondent, while also being a really nice one. There was a lot of laughter, anyway.
Have you humiliated yourself lately? I’m not expecting any Trifectas, like I managed to pull-off. But if you’ve done anything to embarrass yourself recently — or even a long time ago — please tell us the story. Use the comments link below.
And I’ll see you guys again tomorrow.
Have a great day!
Now playing in the bunker
Use the Surf Report’s webhost: HostGator!
Humiliating myself? Let’s see. What day is today? YES!!!
Also, this morning I think I wrecked my rectum.
Wrecktum would be a good name for a chili sauce.
LMAO or baked beans.
Rectum? It damn near killed ‘im!
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Bennett? I think I broke the damn thing.
Does asking a non-pregnant woman in Kroger, how far along she was, count? I actually knew she wasn’t pregnant, but love to see the reaction on their faces afterward as they go off in a huff, bags of chips and other lard-based products falling out of their buggies and all. Soon afterward, I watched her climb into the van she wears. Those poor shocks.
Wow – we just got to read a guy publicly humiliate himself IN THIS VERY COLUMN!. What a pig. What a disgusting piece of dung . .you should block him from your column.
Lighten up, Francis.
Why lighten up? It isn’t even funny. This guy is obviously an “all about me” responder. He asked us to speak about our OWN humiliation .. . and this jerk has to brag about how he repeatedly humiliates other people.
And guess what? No I am NOT a defensive fattie!!!!!
Tha fuck?
Ahhhh, that’s a shame.
I laughed, Bill. Loudly. Especially the part about wearing a van. Classic.
I’m gonna write a song about this. Maybe I’ll write it in D-minor, which I find to be the saddest of all keys.
Is this an episode of Dr. Phil?
I think Becki may be one of those women who has school-aged children but still calls that tire around her middle “baby” fat. Like, she’s still trying to lose it 6 years later.
You keep calling those porkers out, Bill…SOMEONE needs to! (…What? They’re all in denial and don’t KNOW they are disgusting until someone TELLS them? Do these people not HAVE mirrors?)
LMAO
Ya thunked wrong. And this isn’t good natured teasing . . what Bill does is no better than bullying and harassment.
Um, no, Becki. We live in this pansy-ass existence now full of namby-pamby, touchy-feely, bullshit, feel-good, walk-on-eggshells, everyone is offended by everything, and Every Kid Gets A Trophy Just For Participating World. Asking some fat ass when she is due when she has a cartload of Twinkies and 10 liters of “Diet” Coke is just bringing on some harsh reality to those who NEED it. Sorry.
Love it when posters start out like “um no”. Like they are the final word. You WERE wrong because your description of ME was totally wrong.
It is SO NOT okay to do that. It is one thing to poke fun ABOUT stereotypes etc and I myself have done that. That can be fun, even when poking fun at oneself.
You DON’T bully somone who likely is fully aware of their deficiencies in order to get a laugh at their expense later. Like I said before, people like that are pigs. Inside. Where it counts.
That is not namby pamby – that is common human decency.
You, in fact, are showing that YOU are just like the Bloombergs, who walk around pointing out human flaws and bringing “harsh reality to those that need it”.
Would SO LOVE to talk to one of your family members who is aware of YOUR harsh realities.
Kindness, compassion are not the same things as PC.
But. .. . .. .trolls will be trolls. . .and I should just realize that and leave you be -….
We’re not making fun of Jerry’s Kids for fucksake. Those are actual disabilities. FAT is not a disability. Yes, even if the Twinkie hoarders want us to believe it is and feel sorry for their fat asses. Telling your precious niece she can’t sing before letting her go on American Idol auditions…cruel? Reality. So, if a family member is ,dangerously obese or doesn’t have the talent they believe they do, you are supposed to play namby pamby, right? Nope. Don’t like it? Toughen up. Creates character. Or, calluses.
You do realize that this is the wvsr don’t you? Observational mockery and sarcasm are foundation principles here.
YES – Uncle W – and I LOVE observational mockery and sarcasm. What Bill did was not observational .. .
I really want to stay the fuck out of this thread, but I need to dip my toe in just a smidgen. To a certain extent, being a large person and having difficulty losing weight has a genetic component.
There’s a difference between a large person with a basket of Twinkies and, say, our friend Brittney who, in her early 20s, struggled mightily to lose a couple dozen pounds and took something like a year to do it. Keeping weight off for her is an ongoing fight, even though she is both focused and motivated. She is in a battle with her genes. Making fun of her at her highest weight would qualify as cruel, although you might not know her story. (Based on her blog pics, she’s a cutie at any weight).
I think anybody like Becki, whose motivation is to treat people with respect, deserves a little less piling on than she got on the WVSR today.
I’m not looking for a fight. I’m just saying….
John
Thanks so much for your smidgen. You totally “got” what I was TRYING TO SAY!!!!! Was so frustrating to try to tell people that I was NOT TRYING TO BE PC but what I objected to was someone ACTIVELY mocking someone to their face to 1) get their reaction, 2) mock them and 3) have a “story” to tell. And none of us know the battles,hidden or otherwise, that others face. Thanks.
Becki … go put on your rubber yellow gloves and do some laundry or something. And get me a beer while your at it !!!!!!
Well, the woman could have torn into me with everything she had, but at her size, she could only move at around 2mph and her arms were nearly straight out to her sides, kinda resembling one of those big suits that they put on to let police dogs attack. Hell, I almost asked her if she was the next Octomom. She also paid for her heft maintainers with welfare and lit up a cig before she got outside the store, proceeding to get into the van she wears, which was………..wait for it………….PARKED IN A HANDICAPPED SPOT. Forgot to add those bits of information, but since you needed more clarification, thought I’d add it for your convenience. Have a nice day Becki and for God’s sake, have a Clark Bar.
What Bill also did was write a fictional depiction of something he would love to do.
You do realize that one of the main attractions of this website is to provide, not only humor, but shock humor that might not always reflect true depictions of what actually took place or was even considered taking place. You fell for it……HOOK……LINE…….and SINKER. This site is here for Jeff to post funny, every day topics and for his readers and followers to make even bigger goofs by posting either factual or fictional comments to go along with it. I also suspect that you could be one of the people who gave Jeff’s great novel, Crossroads Road, a negative rating, since one of the characters in the book is a classic wide body. If so, why don’t you do yourself a favor and stay on the Lifetime and Oxygen websites.
Great discussion, y’all. If this is any indication, the next session of the WVSR religion and politics hour should be fun.
(swaying back and forth) “Can’t we all just get along?”
I have committed the same stupid act twice in my life, about twenty years apart. Once in my early twenties I mentioned to the lady that worked behind a bar that I frequented, I hoped her leg got better, as I had noticed she was limping. Her reply was “Probably won’t, I had polio when I was a child and that sum bitch is shriveled up like a match stick, wanna see?”
Then about 20 years later a nice lady my wife worked with at a local grocery store. Same comment, Hope you leg gets better. Then the same basic reply, “Probably won’t, it was crushed in a car wreck about 25 years ago.” Nuff said
My friend called me a “retard” in front of a neighbor who happened to have a retarded sister. Taught us both a good lesson.
1. Humiliating incident from the past: while in attendance to my best friend’s wedding, halfway through the evening I notice that my pants were unzipped. I had been wondering why everyone kept smiling at me so pleasantly…I felt like I just hopped off the short bus!
2. Recent humiliation: I walked into a fast-food restaurant that we frequent fairly often, and the kid behind the counter calls me by name! I guess we go there a little TOO often. From now on I reckon I’ll just have to wear a mask and only pay in small, unmarked bills!
I suffered a wedding mishap, and wasn’t aware of it until later. I wore striped boxer shorts under a beige tuxedo.
Only noticed when I saw a picture much later on.
Some of your pant fabric might still be up in there somewhere. Finger extra deep next time you wipe.
I’m picturing the scene from War of the Worlds, when the aliens first appeared and were zapping people and turning them into a poof of clothes lint.
I just read the “offended” response to Jeff’s tweet (http://tinyurl.com/njqjj8e), and I’m pretty darn sure “Dr. Squid” was just joking. Especially when you read Dr. Squid’s own tweets: https://twitter.com/LIGHTNINGFRONT
Don’t know why my “tinyurl” URL didn’t work, but if you go to Jeff’s Twitter page, you’ll find it.
I once got drunk and dragged a table over at an event being attended by the governor of Alabama. Everyone was gasping, except for me, I was trying not to vomit or shit my pants.
Seigleman, Riley, or Bentley?
It sound like your ass had a grand day out.
“sounds”
I didn’t even do anything wrong – it was implied – but this still burns my ass. I went to a Zumba class and there was a new girl I was being introduced to. Asian chick, name of Anna. The girl introducing us (Barbara) forgot Anna’s name and we had a few laughs about how awkward THAT is. So Barbara says “where are you from? Sometimes I associate names to places” and Anna says “Chicago” So I chime in “Oh Chi (SHY) Town” and Barbara says “That’s a good way to remember, too CHINATOWN” I was purple faced for 3 days. Wanted to strangle Barbara and Anna never returned to class.
After having a good 20 minute conversation with my boss a few weeks ago, I walked out to my car and caught my reflection in the rear view mirror. Had one of those flappy hanging cling on boogers jutting from my left nostril.
After a rehearsal for Improv we were taking group photos making goofy faces, etc. In one shot, I had my hands raised – huge – I mean HUGE pit stains. So much for the natural, aluminum free deodorant. Oh and those pictures were forwarded to a shit load of people.
(sigh)… it’s life.
I was recently staying at someone else’s house and one morning I went out for a walk and thought I’d locked myself out. It turned out that the door opened out and I thought it opened in. So I didn’t humiliate myself in front of anyone, but it was still really stupid.
We have the same kind of ice cream/farm here. You can smell the cow crap and all. I have to say it’s the best ice cream I ever had and their milk is great too. Seeing how you split your pants and broke a chair..it’s probably best that you ordered a small cup of ice cream lol.
On a regular basis, I humiliate myself at work by offering up odd greetings when passing folks in the hall. Stuff like’ happy back to work day!’ while waving my arms around like a loon.
Also, there’s the small matter of my GI system and loud proclamations therefrom, every afternoon about an hour after I have lunch. I’ve had to book myself a meeting room to muffle the din out of respect for my cubemates!!
I think I told this little ditty before….
My girlfriend talks me into going to a house warming party / new baby welcoming party of a girl she was friends with but I wasn’t a fan….but she didn’t want to go alone. On the way there, she warns me about her friend’s mother. “She’s very religious and will corner anyone she can to talk about the bible and her church”.
Once there, everything was boring as hell. I saw the religious mom wearing all kinds of rosaries and religious jewelry. I avoided her like the plague.
As we were leaving, the host’s husband walks us to the door. He asked me if I escaped his mother in law’s wrath. I said “Yep! Holy shit! She really must be devoted. She’s even wearing a button with the Pope’s photo on it.” To which he responded “That’s not the Pope. That’s our new daughter”
Oops.
Born to pontificate, perhaps…
LMAO !!!
I had an incident on Sunday, but it was more pain than humiliation.
I was at a BBQ with 20 or 30 people I mostly didn’t know, or barely knew. Our host had spent the afternoon roasting a whole piglet over a fire pit, and everyone else brought side dishes. I had some of the potatoes au gratin. Unbeknownst to me, there was a Trinidad Moruga Scorpion pepper atop it, which I ate. I found out about it right quick. The guy the pepper was intended for – who is a big fan of such things – kept saying “you bastard! That was MINE!” as I was choking and gasping. At least the pig was awesome.
Afterwards, I looked up that pepper. Wikipedia says it’s used in “law enforcement grade pepper spray”.
.
Karaoke. Past…present and future. Apparently at some point in a fun filled evening in a bar in a strange town, I convince myself these folks here need to hear me sing…”I’ve Got You Under My Skin”. I usually follow that up about a half hour later with my encore… “Margaritaville”. That’s pretty much my set list I’ve used in the past and I plan to stick with it in the future.
***I happen to think I nail it.
Hmmm, karaoke… I’ve never done it, but maybe it’s time to start. A buddy of mine once sang karaoke to “Secret Agent Man”, and he was actually not bad. I think I might like to do “Down to the Nightclub”.
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My specialty was On the Street Where You Live. I sang it so dramatically I decided to give up booze; that was something over 15 years ago.
If you had serious bulges in your crotchal area, you’d sing Scotch and Soda followed by MacArthur Park. I’m just saying.
jtb
They keep leaving that damn cake out in the rain. You’d think they’d learn.
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Yeah. I think the cake symbolizes either the essential American character undergoing rapid change in the 1960s, or a vagina. I forget which; I was drunk at the time. But either the American character or the vagina is going to fare better in unfavorable precipitation conditions than a damn cake. And, in contrast, it’s possible to eat too much cake.
jtb
And, it don’t take THAT damned long to bake a cake !!!
I always sing “When I Think About You I Touch Myself” then I vomit and exit stage left.
Myself, I change the lyrics: “When I Think About You I Cut Myself”
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Bill…
Mr. Webb claims to have misplaced the recipe. I guess it wasn’t a Duncan Hines, since it doesn’t take a genius, even in the rain, to add two eggs and a fucking cup of water.
jtb
I humiliate myself almost everyday.
Last night after my kids softball game. As we were leaving a house next to the field let all their dogs out. There must of been 15 Weiner dogs running around their yard. My mom made a comment about ask the dogs and I said “Wow, they must have a Weiner factory in their house!” Needless to say everyone within hearing distance started laughing. It was the first game.
I was in my 40s before I heard the term “weiner dog”, and it’s still mildly baffling. My mom was Texas German, so I always knew that breed as “dachshund”.
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Wow. Didn’t realize so many heartless assholes read your blog. Its all fine to make jokes but I don’t understand just being mean. Christ, talk about people behind their backs like normal people. Isn’t that an unwritten rule of humanity?
Amen. EXACTLY what I was trying to say!
Labeling an entire group of blog poster “heartless assholes” is perfectly kosher in your personal code of morality. You give a lot away about yourself in these few words….
Farts. With me it’s always those unexpected farts. In the grocery store (always in the checkout line), Target, public restrooms and just about anywhere you can’t hide. I think I need to have some serious work done on my sphincter muscle. There are simply too many stories to even being to pick one to tell here.
Jeff, I’m sorry, but like your wife, I laughed HARD about the chair collapse. I may have even broke her 10 minute record because I went back and read that paragraph a couple of times and laughed all over again. I love you, man.
P.S. For the whiney people that can’t appreciate humor, I’d like to throw in here that I find that extremely overweight women make me shiver. My neighbor is one of “them” and she now has diabetes, high blood pressure and any number of health problems related to her weight. For years she said she just couldn’t understand why she couldn’t lose weight; that she didn’t each a lot. Finally, about a year ago she told me her problem was “portion size”, which, in essence, means she eats more than she shits…thus her weight problem. I have no sympathy for folks that do this to themselves. Period.
each = eat (as in eats a lot).
This was humiliation by association I guess. A while back, my best friend John and I were ushers at another friends wedding. We are both large men (I’m 6’3″, 300 lbs and he’s 6’7″, close to 400 lbs.) It’s the middle of summer, no air conditioning at the church, HEAVY black tuxes. We get to the church to get dressed and my fellow usher has forgotten his shoes. Nobody except me wears the same size, there are no stores around, so he has to wear his old brown loafers with the tux. Not a good look but still, not a huge deal. The service starts and he and I are sitting alone in the very back in a pew against the back wall. At one point, as we’re sitting down, he sits on the front edge of the pew, it tilts forward, I sit down a second later and the whole pew slams back down into the wall – it sounded like a shotgun going off. Women scream, men jump up to fight for their lives and everyone turns around to see what the hell is going on. We just sit and smile politely back at them. The rest of the service goes off without a hitch although it’s literally close to 100 degrees in there. So we walk to the front to start “dismissing” people row by row and we’re both sweating so profusely that every few seconds, someone asks us if we need some water or would like to sit down. We soldier through and then it’s time for pictures. The bride has some definite ideas about the poses she wants. We’re told to kneel in front with the wedding party arranged behind us. John points out his brown shoes and that it might be better if we were in the back. No, she wants us in the front so we go to kneel down in our appointed spots. John gets one knee halfway to the ground before there’s a huge ripping sound – his pants have split almost completely from front to back. It goes without saying that we are laughing our asses off at this point and making the bride angrier by the minute. At this point we are not moved to the back row in the picture, we are REMOVED from the picture. Very classy. Good times, good times…
I belched at work tonight. Into the microphone of a telephone headset I’m being trained on. While on a mock-conference call with five new co-workers. People seemed to think I did it on purpose, but I didn’t, it was completely sudden and accidental. I didn’t even have time to stifle it. Hey, it wasn’t my idea to hold an extensive telephone training session after a pot-luck dinner!
Look for all future posts from me under my new handle, Mr. Thenthitive.
Thumbs up!
I’m a little late on this, but just thought about it while I ordered my meal. There’s a steak restaurant by where I live and they serve some huge steaks. Their big steak is called the cowboy and the normal sized steak is called the cowgirl. They also dump a half bottle of ranch on every salad which comes with the steak. So whenever I eat there I have to order the “cowgirl with light dressing”.