Apparently we’re going to Knoebels today. A month or two ago we picked a random Monday, all four of us scheduled it off, and proclaimed it Knoebels day. And now that the random Monday has arrived, these are some reasons I don’t want to go:
- It’s hotter than the devil’s ball pouch out there. Supposedly the “heat index” is going to be 103 today. WTF? That doesn’t sound like fun, it sounds like sustained misery. Why not just spend the day at a steel mill?
- I didn’t sleep very well last night and don’t feel super-great. The thought of piling into a car and driving to an amusement park seems unlikely to me. Yet it’s going to happen? …’Cause we’re a slave to an arbitrary date on a calendar? Should be fun.
- I think I’ve officially reached a point where I have no interest in ridin’ shit. Ya know? The Phoenix roller coaster is fun and world famous, but it’s made for tiny 1947 asses. I have to sit tilted to one side because I fill up 150% of the space. And the rest of it’s just not all that much fun anymore. The log flume thing? Eh. Who wants to walk around covered in sticky hepatitis water all day?
However, these are some reasons I DO want to go:
- Apparently, they have a new BLT shack, where you can buy big honkin’ BLTs?
- We usually stop at Cracker Barrel on the way home.
So, if there’s any motivation at all, it’s 100% food-based. We’ll see what happens. I guess it’ll be worth it if we get a Cracker Barrel visit out of it. They’re serving the Campfire Meals again. Shit! Can’t wait to go to Knoebels!!
Speaking of high heat and amusement parks, I remember being at King’s Island a million years ago with an ex-girlfriend. We were on The Beast, which is one of the craziest things in the world. And you know how people like to put their hands up in the air on roller coasters, to prove their badassery or whatever? Well, when this one dude lifted his arms a stench was released that would’ve brought Andre the Giant to his knees. Everybody within a 20-foot radius of Pit Zero just instantly howled in protest and their faces went all distorted with disgust. I don’t know why stuff like that makes me laugh, but I couldn’t stop all day long. Every time I thought about it I’d start cracking up again. Wotta shitbag.
On Saturday I sent a test email to the old mailing list. I think it had been two years or more since I’d sent anything out. In fact, at some point I moved it to MailChimp and ditched the expensive service I’d been paying for and not really using. And that probably happened more than a year ago. So, I didn’t know what the results would be. I figured many email addresses would bounce, and that a substantial number of people would unsubscribe. In fact, I invited folks to unsubscribe, ’cause I don’t want people on there who don’t wanna be included. Right? Well… here are the results so far:
- 1717 emails sent
- 92 bounced
- 17 unsubscribed
However, at this point, only about 40% of the emails have even been opened. So, the unsubscribe number could continue to climb. And that’s fine. If you didn’t receive the Saturday email and would like to be included in the Surf Report mailing list, here’s your form. You won’t receive many messages from me, but I’ll keep you updated whenever something notable happens.
Also, be sure to check out the questionable new “podcast” right here. Three episodes in the can! Hey, if nothing else… the intro music is cool.
I’ll leave you now with a couple of Questions. And since I’m bullet-pointing all my shit today, let’s keep it going.
- In the comments section please complete this sentence “It’s hotter than…” Sometimes I say hotter than owl piss, and I swore I heard somebody say that as a kid. But when I do a Google search for the phrase it’s all Surf Report. Seems unlikely. Anyway, help me out with that apt phrase, won’t you?
- Also, if you have any tales to tell about horrible stenches in public places, I definitely want to hear it. The older boy told me a co-worker “shit himself” a few days ago at work. Said it smelled horrendous. How does something like that happen?? I’m glad it does, but how? So, if you have anything on that subject, please share.
And I’m going to call it a day, my friends.
I’ll be back on Thursday.
Have a great one!
Now playing in the bunker
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Hotter than the gates of hell (not funny but tried and true)
Not exactly a public place, but someone in our office microwaved what smelled like a full baby diaper. I had to leave for a while.
Saturday, I dropped off a mini-van full of 18year olds at Kennywood (Pittsburgh) and I went to a movie and did a little lite shopping. Then took a nap in my van in the nearby McDonalds. Fed a cat-sized squirrel and birds. Nothing would get me inside that park.
Hotter than two mice fucking in a wool sock…
That line courtesy of a fraternity brother from Lincoln County Tennessee that was as country as a fresh egg.
Worked maintenance at a provincial park in 2003. Job #1 was to empty a 50gallon steel drum filled with garbage and rainwater. We ricked it a bit tonsee what we were getting into and were hit by the unholiest of smells. Thats when i saw a raccoon who had fallen in and drowned and mostly decomposed turning it into decayed raccoon garbage soup. We ended up strapping the barrel to a dolly which we then lashed to the back of the truck and slowly towed it to the dump. We wheeled it over to the pit and after unlashing it we shoved the whole thing into the pit and pretended it never existed.
The first time that I even spoke to a new employee at Peaches #36 (I didn’t realize she was a new coworker until I returned from lunch) by the name of Justine, I asked “How ya doin’?” as I walked by her.
Justine answered, “It’s hotter than a good fuck.”
And she was right. I’ve been using that phrase ever since.
Right on. Best answer ever.
“It’s hotter than…” (my favorites)
40 flaming hells
the underside of Satan’s ball sac
“stenches in public places”
while in Vegas many years ago, I took a bus trip (wtf was I thinking) to the Hoover Dam & the Grand Canyon & there was an gentleman of India-Indian decent that was emitting an odor so foul I still have PTSD. curry maybe? FM…the flashbacks have begun…
My dad says “Hotter than a 10 peckered toad.” Not sure where the hell that came from.
My dad says ‘hotter than a 10 peckered billy goat’. Always makes me laugh.
Man, I cut grass for a couple of summers and i’d have to haul full bags of cut grass into the garbage. Doesn’t sound too bad, right?
Put a bag of wet grass in the sun over the weekend and then take a big whiff. It’s DISGUSTING (also alarmingly hot. Decomposing grass sends out a shitload of heat in addition to stench).
“It’s hotter than Dutch love.” No idea how it came to be, but most of my family uses it with regularity.
A friend of mine’s mother used to say this. She is Canadian and apparently the Dutch were (are?) not all that well regarded there. The idea is that the Dutch are prone to wanton sexual exuberance. I think it had something to do with a large number of Dutch transported to Canada as indentured servants during colonial times.
It’s “Hotter than Satan’s kitchen” out there today!
Offensive public odors:
-our elevators at work carry workers of many nationalities, and often smell like curry, garlic, unwashed body parts and cheap cologne/perfume to cover it all up! They can smell like that–even when they are empty. It hangs in the air like a cloud of funk even after the passengers are long gone.
-When I used to be a cashier millions of years ago, fat women would always seem to keep their money in their bras–especially when the humidity level was at 200%! What made them think we’d want to touch that money after it’s been all sweaty, nasty and stinky between their boobs all day?
Jeff–I totally identify with your “food-based” motivation for amusement parks! Forget those stupid rides. Give me some corn dogs, funnel cake, fresh lemonade and mini donuts any old day of the week!
Food is one of the things that makes Dollywood quite tolerable. That and the fact that the rides are fun but not overwhelming, a good introduction for small kids, and there are often no lines because the clientele is 40+ grandparents taking their 2-4 year old grandkids to an “amusement park” – no competition for rollercoasters there. Love the place.
Dollywood is uphill both ways! The able bodied rent the scooters to tackle that place.
I started using “hotter than an August crotch” years ago after seeing Jeff use it on here. It still disgusts probably 40 percent of poeople so I am delighted.
It’s hotter than the devil’s furry butthole.
I was at a local ballpark Friday, watching my kid practice baseball. The smell in the air alternated between old wet dog food and a yard full of stale, sun-baked dog shit.
And yes, it was hotter than the devil’s furry butthole.
Hotter than…Satan’s sauna!
I’ve heard a co-worker say “hotter than grandma’s coochie” and “hotter than Pamela Anderson in the 90’s”. Both made me laugh.
“Hotter than a witch’s tit” is the one my dad always used way back in the dim days of my ’50s-’60s childhood, and I still find it popping into my mind on days like yesterday when the temps start pushing 90 degrees.
I’ve always heard that phrase but I also heard “colder than a witch’s titty” – so do they run hot or cold? Have I been saying it all wrong all these years?
I’ve always heard “Colder than a witch’s titty in a brass bra.”
I think that’s from Shakespeare – colder than a witches tit. Macbeth, anyone? Beuller, Beuller?
THIS is Shakespeare . . . of a sort . . .
There’s a Duster tryin’ to change my tune
He’s pulling up fast on the right
Rolling restlessly by a twenty-four hour moon
And a Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head
He’s wishing he was home in a Wiscosin bed
But there’s fifteen feet of snow in the East
Colder then a welldigger’s ass
And it’s colder than a welldigger’s ass
T. Waits, 1974
That is modern day Shakspeare, JTB. Unfortunately not many people are hip to Tom.
That dude is amazing. No one I know gets it.
We often say “hot as balls” around here. Sorry, that’s the best I can do.
Bad smells… when I leave work in the afternoon, I have to walk out of the “campus” and then cross the street to the parking lot. On the way out, just before the gate, there is an area which is perfumed by the aroma of raw sewage. It’s extra-awesome in the hot weather.
Since you mentioned the Campfire Meals, I thought of macaroni and beef. Which means I can’t conceal the fact that I came up with a recipe for macaroni and beef, and I’m eating a portion as we speak.
Almost forgot – a while ago I was looking at roller coasters online, and stumbled across a thing that in hindsight had to exist: rcdb.com, the Roller Coaster Database.
Two from my 82-year-old father: “Hotter than a popcorn fart” (referring to the weather) and “Hotter than a depot stove” (referring to someone, usually a professional athlete or entire team, who is having a sustained run of success).
Stench-wise, when I worked in food service many years ago getting the grease trap cleaned out periodically would lead to an appalling aroma in the back of the restaurant. It would only last for a minute or two, but it was damned near unbearable. The dumpster and grease bin out back could carry their own foul odor, especially in summer, but that grease trap stench was like a physical attack.
Oh my God, the grease trap stink. It is indescribable. I work at a grocery store with a deli that cooks chicken all day and when they empty the grease I run quickly in the other direction with my breath held.
There’s an old building on campus that has a big heater vent on each side of a small flight of stairs. There use to be this street person who would hang out there in the winter. So his smell got amplified by the heat and filled up the whole stairwell.
Hotter than a whore’s doorknob on Nickel night
My dad’s favorite was hotter than a nun’s twat in the cucumber patch.
Most recent favorite is hotter than a sriracha sauce enema.
Worse smell was the alley next to a former gay bar in downtown Cincinnati that housed garbage cans, the homeless folks piss and shit and whatever glory hole drippings that ended up on the ground.
Fifty some years ago my Dad and I were walking on an old country dirt road and came across a bloated, maggot ridden dog carcass. Only time I ever saw him gag.
As an adult, while an engineering student at WV Tech there were many middle eastern students there that apparently had a morbid fear of sop and water. I remember going down the stairs of the Engineering Building and remarked to another student “I smell Stinky”. Four flights later there he was in all his pungent glory.
I don’t have any clever “It’s hotter than…” lines. I’m just glad I have a desk job on days like this.
My little brother likes “it’s hotter than a six weasel orgy in a gopher hole”.
Unfortunately, I have been the source of more public stenches than I care to mention, including a college gymnasium, my local City Hall, and the Spy Museum in Washington DC.
Not all of us have been blessed with our hosts legendary sphincter control.
Bad smells (as the ‘nickel night’ phrase I came to post has been taken):
Period farts
New Orleans’ French Quarter on a hot summer morning
That mouse that’s been laying dead in the trap you forgot you set for three days
Any fast food dumpster that contains old milk
Perhaps my nose is too sensitive, but all of those things make me heave.
Period farts are horrible!!
I generally go simple, and say “It’s hot as balls.” I have more colorful idioms for other situations, but heat just saps my intelligence, and I go simple.
It’s hotter than Satan’s urethra.
I used to work with someone that would, on a regular basis, microwave fish.
It’s hotter than a moderately warm day in Minnesota!