CrazyOlDan: Wanna hear a bad joke I just made up one second ago
Matt Sussman: let’s hear it
CrazyOlDan: you have no choice… unless you block me or don’t read the next thing I type
Matt Sussman:: You probably shouldn’t build this up
CrazyOlDan: ok…what do you get when you mix a crucifix and a dresser?
CrazyOlDan: …a cross dresser!
CrazyOlDan: man i am the funniest kid alive
Matt Sussman: This is why you don’t write for me anymore.
While going through his wife’s dresser drawers, a farmer discovered three soybeans and an envelope containing $30 in cash. The farmer confronted his wife, and when asked about the curious items, she confessed:
“Over the years, I haven’t been completely faithful to you.”
“When I did fool around, I put a soybean in the drawer to remind myself of my indiscretion,” she explained.
The farmer admitted that he had not always been faithful either, and therefore, was inclined to forgive and forget a few moments of weakness in his wife.
“I’m curious though,” he said, “Where did the thirty dollars come from?”
“Oh that, ” his wife replied, “Well, when soybeans hit ten dollars a bushel, I sold out!”
Sophie: You haven’t given me a speaking part in over a year.
Sussman: I haven’t written in over a year.
Sophie: Bullshit. Pet me.
Sussman: Why would I want to do that?
Sophie: Either pet me or I urinate in your shoes.
Sussman: No way, those are my shoes! (Pets Sophie.)
Sophie: Yes, that’s right. That’s where the money is.
(Sussman stops petting Sophie.)
Sophie: What the hell?
Sussman: I want to watch TV.
Sophie: Keep petting me!
Sussman: No, I want to watch some TV.
Sophie: Fine, turn it to American Idol. I love watching that British judge, Simon, make fun of the bad singers.
Sussman: We’re not watching American Idol. We’re watching the NBA Playoffs.
Sophie: That sucks.
Sussman: You suck!
The 2002-03 Cleveland Cavaliers: We suck!
Sophie: Get your candy asses out of here. Come back when you draft LeBron James.
Sussman: That ain’t gonna happen. Memphis is gonna draft LeBron.
Sophie: You callin’ me a liar, bitch?
Sussman: No, I’m callin’ you a BITCH, LIAR!
Sophie: That’s it. Get down on your knees and rub my tummy!
Sussman: Ew, no. I don’t go on the floor. That’s where you live.
Sophie: Come down to my house so I can kick your pasty white ass!
Simon, the British judge: Sophie, I think you have what it takes to be the next order of Chinese food.
Sussman: Exactly as I thought. Take ’em away, Yao.
Yao Ming: (Bumps head on ceiling.)
(Note: No Cavaliers won any basketball games in the making of this film.)
“This website is probably Scarred for Life’s biggest fans when you talk about websites that I didn’t create… nevertheless, we struck a deal involving no money or hookers.
https://www.squackle.com/
Try and find the stuff from the old Daily Sussman on the site. I know it’s there. No seriously, find it for me, because I do not know where it is.”
– Matt Sussman
A polar bear walks into a bar and says, “I’ll have a large orange juice . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . on the rocks.”
The bartender served the juice and said, “Here it is, but why the big pause?”
“I don’t know,” the polar bear replied. “I’ve always had them.”
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: I’m tired. I think I’ll stop working.
Car Battery: Now I can retire. The best years are ahead of me! (Dies.)
Bob Hope: That’s why I’m not retiring.
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: I was driven around by a very hairy kid for three and a half years. Time to rest on the driveway and do nothing.
(Meanwhile…)
One-legged Squirrel: Life isn’t as great with just one leg.
One-legged Starfish: Well, you only lost one leg.
One-legged Squirrel: So?
One-legged Starfish: I lost four of mine to a jet ski.
One-legged Squirrel: Um… can’t you grow legs back?
One-legged Starfish: Yeah, but it’s hard. Plus I’m in a union.
One-legged Squirrel: Ahhh. So you let management worry about it.
One-legged Starfish: Basically. It’s great to be a well paid echinoderm.
One-legged Squirrel: Hey, my best girl is late. Where do you suppose she is?
Flattened Two-legged Female Squirrel: AACK!
One-legged Squirrel: Oh no, my girlfriend! She has two legs, but she’s flattened!
One-legged Starfish: That would make sense, given her name in the script.
One-legged Squirrel: I will not let you be forgotten! Someone must pay!
One-legged Starfish: Yeah, probably the car that ran her over.
One-legged Squirrel: Perhaps, but it’s faster than me, and it’s already gone. I shall take my anger out on a parked car of the same color.
One-legged Starfish: What color was it?
One-legged Squirrel: How should I know? (Looks around frantically.) There’s a white one. Let’s get it.
(One-legged Squirrel meanders its way towards 1994 Pontiac Grand Prix.)
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: Do you hear something, garage door?
Garage Door: (Says nothing. It’s just a normal garage door.)
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: Oh, of all the inanimate objects to not have a speaking part… it sure is lonely here. And I’m pretty sure
something’s coming up from behind me.
One-legged Squirrel: It’s me! One of your kind ran over my girlfriend! And since he got away, I’m taking this out on you!
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: Who’s saying that? I can’t look behind me.
(Ten minutes later…)
One-legged Squirrel: There’s no escape!
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: Holy shit, for a raging lunatic of a squirrel, you sure are slow!
One-legged Squirrel: In the land of dead car batteries, the squirrel with one limb is king!
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: Well, I didn’t vote for you.
Pat Buchanan: I did.
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: In that case, would you mind giving me a push?
Pat Buchanan: Depends. Will you vote for me in the next election?
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: Not on purpose, but hey, you might get lucky again.
Pat Buchanan: Good enough for me.
(Pat Buchanan pushes 1994 Pontiac Grand Prix towards One-legged Squirrel.)
One-legged Squirrel: Uh-oh! Now the car is moving as fast as me, but in the opposite direction! This is one math problem I don’t want to figure out!
Pat Buchanan: Excellent! He’s trying to turn around!
(One-legged Squirrel attempts to turn around, but since he has one leg, it’s really hard.)
One-legged Squirrel: Egads! I will be run over again!
Squirrel in a Wheelchair: Not if I can help it!
(Squirrel in a Wheelchair comes to the rescue, pulls One-legged Squirrel onto his wheelchair.)
One-legged Squirrel: I’m saved!
Squirrel in a Wheelchair: Now we roll to safety!
(Squirrel in a Wheelchair rolls out to the street, only to get run over by a Segway.)
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: Keep pushing! We’re almost there!
Pat Buchanan: We already got him.
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: Well I don’t see him.
Pat Buchanan: We went for that Y-shaped twig, right?
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: I don’t think so…
Pat Buchanan: How about that ant hill?
1994 Pontiac Grand Prix: I really don’t know. It could have been. I need to hear it to know for sure.
Pat Buchanan: I’m tired. I better stop pushing. (Stops pushing.)
One-legged Starfish: GET… OFF… ME!!!
1. It is important to find a woman who cooks and cleans.
2. It is important to find a woman who makes good money.
3. It is important to find a woman who loves to have sex.
4. It is very important that these three women never meet!!
“The wonderful thing about fraternities and sororities is that brothers and sisters stick together… until the check bounces.”
– Matt Sussman
Nuke Laloosh: The minors blow.
Coco Crisp: Hey, they’re not THAT bad.
Nuke Laloosh: You’d say that. Just look at your name!
Coco Crisp: Whatever you say, “Nuke.” Weren’t you mentored by a guy named Crash?
Nuke Laloosh: Good point.
Stubby Clapp: I once played in a major league game.
Catfish Hunter: Yeah? Well I’m in the Hall of Fame.
Dizzy Dean: And we’re all white.
Coco Crisp: Not me!
Milton Bradley: Or me.
Andruw Jones: The three of us all play center field, we do.
Greg Olson: I was a catcher.
Gregg Olson: I was a pitcher.
Dizzy Dean: Yikes, so many people. This is making me dizzy.
Catfish Hunter: Where’s Yogi?
Yogi Berra: Sorry, this is the earliest I’ve ever been late. (Steals pic-a-nic basket.)
Todd Jones: You guys are all weird.
Let’s say you are in a supervisory position over cashiers. Typically supervising is a boring and monotonous exploit. Babysitting other people to make sure they’re doing their job correctly can bring out the worst in people, especially when you do it day in and day out.
Why not put a little sadistic fun into your life by torturing the people you are supervising? Here’s a few suggestions:
1. Funneling customers to one cashier’s register (or just away from you).
Nothing says “I’m lazy” more than rejecting any customer that comes your way. But there’s a reasoning behind that. It’s because you want that stupid cashier with the tacky blonde highlights or that other cashier with the excessively form-revealing biking shirt (can anyone say man boobs?) to have pleasure of taking another customer after the one they’re already ringing up. Who says you need to endure the crappy money jokes customer’s always seem to think are funny when you can just deflect them to the next guy?
2. Musical registers.
Nothing wipes the hopeful look on a about-to-close-out cashier’s face than to make them close-out later by switching them to a register that closes later. The best part about it, is that its all random and “pre-ordained to fate” because they chose a bad number. To set up a game of musical registers, write the names of the registers on a piece of paper and cut them out. Fold them up and then toss them into a small box or cup or something like that and have the cashiers draw a piece of paper. These papers will tell them where to go for their registers, and if you’re lucky you’ll have a situation where a cashier who was happy they were about to close closes last and an overzealous cashier cheers that they get to close first instead of last. Then you can revel in the pain of the cashier who just had the power play to being put into the penalty box.
3. Inventory.
Nothing is more sadistic than forcing people to count millions of Scantrons, pens, pencils, sweaters, or large amounts of random shit for hours on end. If you get a chance, make sure they count the roundabout fixture full of dusty stickers that look alike.
4. Stare at them.
Nothing will make a cashier more uncomfortable than getting every move they make scrutinized upon by their superior. When they mess up, you can stare at them even harder and make grunting noises and tell them they’re doing something wrong with little to no explanation. You’re doing your job, after all.
5. Leave them with no change.
Oh, the cashier just called for pennies? I think you should wait another twenty minutes and let them sweat a little. Especially since they called for change five minutes ago and conveniently didn’t tell you they are about to run out of pennies. Leave it to them to explain to customers why they don’t have three pennies to give back for change.
6. Mindless policies.
Making up policies that do not make any sense is a subtle way to make life hard for a cashier. Nothing pains the soul more than to have needless red tape and hurdles to jump over to do even the simplest of things. Need some more ones? How about you fill out a cash request form which you will evaluate the reasoning for before getting the money? How about requiring extraneous, useless information on checks to make the transaction take longer, and if they forget something, then you can punish them for doing so.
This requires some creativity, obviously. Just think up the most ass backwards ways to frustrate your employees and execute.
7. Hidden supplies.
If a cashier is able to easily get the pens, pencils, staplers, or whatever they need easily, then you fail at torturing them. You need to make sure that any of the office supplies they may require to finish transactions are in hard to reach or practically inaccessible areas. Make sure these supplies are always a few steps away and limit the amount of efficiency they can possibly have by maximizing the annoyance factor. Make sure the stapler is on the other side of the room from the pens and pencils. Why would you ever want them to be in the same place? It’s not like you want anything to be convenient for anyone.
“There was a ton, and now there’s none.”
– davepoobond
Girl: “I’m silly today. Silly silly.”
Reasonably Attractive Girl: “Yeah, you’re silly.”
– from davepoobond’s job.
Everyone knows that when you’re a receptionist or manning a desk you either are standing up, sitting down, or leaning against whatever can hold you weight. But what people don’t know is how to cope with being a receptionist in a situation where the desk is made for sitting but there is no chair! It’s supposed to make you look more approachable when you’re standing around looking like you’re straining to do everything you’re trying to do rather than sitting in a chair using the desk that is made for sitting in the way it was designed to.
So you are forced to stand, but lo and behold, you’re not four feet tall, so 85% of the surface is out of reach and the other 10% is unusable due to line of sight issues. That leaves approximately 2.5% of the desk you used to be able to use for use. The other 2.5% is taken up by the normal useless junk that you’re required to keep on your desk, such as business cards and phones — you never had that to begin with anyway.
There are a number of solutions to tackle this problem. Pick the most viable solution for your situation:
1. Bring the counter to you.
This solution requires you to engineer the desk or counter in such a fashion that it rises approximately three feet into the air. You can use anti-gravity machinery or exquisitely stylish cherry-wood wedges to accomplish this. It’d be like you’re sitting… but you’re standing!
2. Bring you to the counter.
This solution requires you to invent the marmalade that Alice drinks in Alice in Wonderland. Just make sure you drink just enough to shrink to the size of the desk. But I guess you can drink enough so that you can swim around in the tears of lazy receptionists who don’t like to stand up while being a receptionist.
3. Pretend like you’re sitting.
Who says you can’t sit without a chair? You can crouch or sit on an imaginary chair, or develop a jet engine system to keep yourself comfortably levitated at the elevation of your counter.
4. Get a new counter/table.
The most sensible solution of all is to get a new counter. But sensibility is more expensive than a new counter, so you’ll most likely have to forgo this solution nine times out of ten.
5. Bring the surface of the counter to you.
I suppose this is most sensible low-cost solution. But this means you spend money on ancillary items when you could just solve your problem by using the chair you already bought instead of raised surfaces to solve a problem you didn’t need to create. But, who cares, it’s just money, right?
–
Another challenge that is presented is your ability to be sneaky about things. While in a chair, you would be able to sneak a snack or a peek at your cell phone just to holla at your homies. There are only two presentable solutions available to tackle this problem:
1. Hide under the counter/desk.
Hiding under the counter/desk allows you to temporarily shirk any responsibilities you may have been forced to do. You can hide from customers, managers, other employees — its like a safe haven for about five minutes while you sext that hottie you met at the bar last night.
2. Make the counter into a fort.
Nothing says “fuck you” to customers better than stacking up large amounts of random shit so high into the air so they can’t see you anymore. Who says you need to help anyone but yourself? You need some alone time randomly during the day after you’re creeping on the hot guy/girl trying on a shirt in front of the fixture instead of the fitting room? Time to get some boxes and staple a handwritten “Do Not Disturb” sign so people can’t see you anymore, and don’t come-a-knocking.
Stanley Steemer: What a dirty carpet. I better get to work.
(Stanley Steemer begins cleaning the carpet.)
(The Farting Mime farts on the carpet)
Stanley Steemer: Oh, come on! I was just done cleaning that!
(The Farting Mime plays the world’s smallest violin)
Stanley Steemer: You’ll never get away with this!
(The Farting Mime points to the Orkin Man, dead as a doornail underneath a parked Kia Spectra)
Stanley Steemer: You ran over the Orkin Man with a Kia Sephia? Man, that’s embarrassing.
Geo Tracker: Well, at least it took the attention away from me.
Stanley Steemer: Only one person can save the day!
(The Farting Mime shakes head in disagreement)
A Voice: I’m here to stop this!
Stanley Steemer: Could it be! It is! It’s Vin Diesel’s Chest!
Vin Diesel’s Chest: That’s right. Now what’s the problem?
(The Farting Mime Lets out a juicy one right on the Oriental rug)
Stanley Steemer: Help us, Vin Diesel’s Chest! He’s farting on the rug that I just cleaned.
Vin Diesel’s Chest: Well, I’ll just have to put a stop to this using my impeccable pecs.
(The Farting Mime Pretends to be trapped in a box)
Vin Diesel’s Chest: Shoot. He’s in a box. How am I going to get to him now?
Geo Tracker: Smoke him out.
Tommy Chong: I’m way ahead of you, man.
(Invisible box fills up with smoke, The Farting Mime busts out of the box.)
Vin Diesel’s Chest: It worked. Now come and get me, you mute freak.
(The Farting Mime Farts right into Vin Diesel’s Chest)
Vin Diesel’s Chest: Do you think that’s going to work? I don’t have a nose.
Tommy Chong: Wow, weird man. He’s like, got no face.
(The Farting Mime Makes a gasping face, then runs away.)
Geo Tracker: I’ll take it from here.
(Geo Tracker Opens driver’s side door)
(The Farting Mime gets in, tries to start the car, but the car explodes.)
Vin Diesel’s Chest: Well, shoot. If I was closer to the explosion, I would jump out of the way just so the camera could get a slo-mo of my massive chest muscles.
Stanley Steemer: You saved the day! But why did the car explode?
Unabomber: I think it was a terrorist.
(Vin Diesel’s Chest floats away heroically, girls faint in their seats.)
Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the planetarium where we’re going to have another great day of astronomy notes. Looks to be a promising day as I see class hasn’t even started and a kid to my left, the teacher’s right, has already fallen asleep. OK, so class is now underway and his first issue of discussion is yelling at some kid for reading the BG News in class. Talk about taking the bull by the horns. Now we see him display information on the overhead. Personally, I see two things wrong with this. 1) It has words and number on it that no one in this class understands, and 2) The fricken print is about a size six font, it’s too small to even read! How are the students taking to this? Well, the one kid’s still asleep and another is playing games on his calculator. He’s obviously been in this class long enough to know how to pass the time. Kudos to you young man, kudos to you. Back to class at hand though. Let’s listen in with our in-class mic we have secretly attached to the professor. “Be glad you don’t live on Jupiter because if you did, you wouldn’t have a surface to live on, you would weight 2 1/2 times more than what you do here, and you would have about 25 more moons to memorize.”
Well that’s some good information. Obvious. But good. I tell you what, if I didn’t have a surface to stand on, I sure wouldn’t want to live there. Ah, now we see some information we can actually read. This has caught some of the students. One point for the teacher. I believe the students are still in the lead 3-1 however, due to the two kids sleeping and the calculator playing fellow. Well I’ve been part of some boring astronomy classes, but wow. Today’s is just bad. I see some desperate measures are being taken now by the professor as he has resorted to his slides, flipping from one to the next in a flee of unorganization. That’s going to be scored as minus one point for him. Bad form. During his search for the right slide, I believe I heard someone mutter a “Boring.” What a horrible display of teaching skills. And now he shows us a slide of a picture of a planet’s moon and shows his fascination with how it looks like the Death Star from Star Wars. I believe it is time to end this. This day of class has been ended prematurely due to the teachers own stupidity. I can’t even write anymore. I quit. Enjoy the rest of your day, folks. Your final score is…
Well, honestly, who cares?.