Introducing Placebolax® – from SCAMCO – the company that brought you the (not-quite-FDA-approved) sleep interrupter device Miracle Snore and Eye Can See, the popular battery-operated do-it-yourself laser eye surgery kit.
Try Placebolax today and you’ll be amazed at how much you’ll lose.
With Placebolax, weight loss has never been simpler. What’s our secret?Baby polar bear liver oil. That’s right! We discovered that baby polar bear liver oil burns up fat, sugar, and your intestines and converts them into pure profit, er, muscle. Made from lovingly farm-raised Siberian baby polar bear livers, harvested on our polar bear farm in a secret undisclosed location in the Arctic Circle, we mix it with powder of seal pup brains and ground-up beluga whale dorsal fins to produce our unique patented weight loss formula.
[Our attorneys told us we need to include some additional “disclosures” in the very remote chance someone might not use our product as intended, accidentally resulting in permanent blindness – not that this would ever happen (we don’t think) – and try to sue us.]
LIST OF ACTIVE INGREDIENTS: High fructose corn syrup, sugar, malt flavoring, more high fructose corn syrup, sodium ascorbic acid, something that tastes like chicken, dextrose, hydrogenated cornstarch, salt, processed flour, food coloring, red dye #2, 40, 67 and 85, soybean, caramel, riboflavin, thiamin, hydrochloride, super-duper high fructose corn syrup, Pez, dried egg whites, lithium, tortoise dung, something that used to look like yogurt, mono-something or other, cocoa extract, extract of cocoa, boiled linseed oil, vinegar, frosted flakes, 3 of KFC’s original herbs and spices (but we’re not authorized to tell you which 3), nutmeg, something that looks vaguely like rabbit pellets but we can’t locate the original container so we’re not really sure what it is, folic acid, battery acid, stomach acid, coconut juice, asbestos, fluoride (for stronger teeth), quartz, silicon, did we mention salt yet?, plutonium isotope, lead, unleavened yak intestines, eye of newt, DNA from some guy named Brad, petroleum byproducts, banana, and baby polar bear liver oil. (more…)
Dear Sweetie, Honey, Darling, Angel, Punkin, Cutie Pie, Snuggle Bunny, Sweet Cakes, or in the case of Mrs. Eunice McCutchen of Big Butte, South Dakota, You Old Ball & Chain,
We guys just wanted to take this opportunity to give you ladies some helpful suggestions for what to get us this Father’s Day. It’s not too late to surprise us on our special day with something that would truly show us how much you love us.
You want to know what we guys really want for Father’s Day? It’s very little. We just want to spend a day with our whole family, taking a leisurely hike in the woods, holding hands with our lovely wife, telling her how much we love her, and later on, snuggling together, taking a nice long nap on the couch.
Ah, we’re just messing with you. That’s not even remotely close to what we want for Father’s Day – although the part about a long nap on the couch sounds good – so long as you leave us alone.
[Note from the staff of VFTB: This week Tim Jones waxes nostalgic with fond memories of his high school senior prom. However, in the interest of editorial integrity, the staff felt obligated to set the record straight where Tim’s memory veers slightly from how the evening’s events actually transpired. – VFTB Staff]
It’s high school prom season. I am always cheered to see so many handsome young men dressed to the nines in their formal tuxedo and cummerbund with matching Nirvana t-shirt, high top sneakers and untied laces, escorting their lovely female companions to the big dance. It brings back memories of my own high school prom, one of the most magical evenings of my life.
I attended an all-boys’ private military academy. The prom tradition at our school was preceded by a formal military parade and competition, pitting drill teams from five companies in our school’s battalion against each other to see which company could create and execute the most original precision drill team performance without accidently shooting any of the guests.
I was Captain of Company B. My company only took out one onlooker but he didn’t actually have tickets to the competition, so it was partially his own fault. [Staff: Turned out to be Tim’s grandfather. He was old anyway.] The drill competition went off without a hitch, with almost no popular students impaled by a rifle bayonet.
If you ask me, springtime is synonymous with yard sales. All over America, moms are clearing out their overstuffed closets, getting rid of old, worthless junk. And I’m not just talking about their husbands lying on the couch drinking beer and watching the Poker Channel.
I’m also talking about that lime green Nehru jacket you bought in 1972, which never was in style to begin with. Or that model train set that your kids last played with during the Reagan administration. Or your late ‘60s lava lamp that always leaked pink ooze. Why on earth are you still holding onto all this crap? Remember the Latin saying, Crape Diem (“seize the crap”). Time for a yard sale.
When planning your yard sale, scour your house for things you no longer use. While I know it might be difficult, it may be time to sell your Big Mouth Billy Bass singing plastic fish. Let some other family enjoy the hours of entertainment it has provided to you and your 3 am drinking buddies.
A yard sale is a great opportunity to reduce the clutter and make a profit in the process – and by profit, I mean finally unloading that universal gym taking up two-thirds of your garage, which you bought seven years ago for $1,295, used precisely five times and tried selling for $499 before marking it down to $249, then $149, then $49.95, before finally settling on a $25 Starbucks gift card and a free car wash. (Remind me later to talk to you about your negotiating skills.)
In preparing for your yard sale, there are a few things you need to do. Enlist the kids to help out. Teach them a few things about sales and negotiations. On second thought, given your universal gym fiasco, never mind.
Read all about it. Newspapers and magazines all over the USA are joining forces in asking Tim Jones to PLEASE STOP SUBMITTING YOUR WRITING SAMPLES! In other news, the stoplight at 5th and Main has finally been repaired. Frustrated drivers say “It’s about time.”
It’s hard to believe I have been at this humor blog for more than 25 years. That may be in part because it’s actually been less than ten. See what I just did? I made a joke. Didn’t find it funny? Join the club. That’s been the reaction so far from just about every newspaper, magazine and online news site in response to my submissions of humor articles over the past year.
I have reached out to publications ranging from The Huffington Post to Field and Stream, and have pretty much received the same response: Who are you and how did you get my email address?
I’ve been collecting a list of reasons publications have given for rejecting my humor submissions. Below is just a sampling of some of the more common responses:
… with an elephant. I would put it right up there among the most unpleasant experiences I’ve ever had to endure, tied with having a root canal or listening to a life insurance sales presentation about the benefits of whole life versus term. Recently, I had a colonoscopy. It’s one of those milestone events in life that apparently you’re supposed to do every few years once you hit 50, like starting to think about retirement planning, only a lot messier and more humiliating.
If you have never had a colonoscopy, let me give you a preview of what you’re in for. It’s no fun. They call it a “minor procedure.” But there’s nothing minor about it if you ask my colon. A doctor shoves a 142-foot tube called an endoscope up your butt to check out your insides. Essentially, it’s the same as the Roto-Rooter guy, but without the clipboard and baseball cap, and in this case, the backed-up pipe they’re inspecting is your intestinal tract. And this is one serious tube they insert. I am not completely sure of the exact route the endoscope took inside me, but I believe it included a side trip to my spleen before moseying to take a peek at my left ear canal.
Most qualified colonoscoptologists (at least I’m pretty sure that’s what they prefer to be called) will take careful safety measures to ensure they don’t jam the tube in so far that it might come out a facial orifice. Avoid any doctor who refuses to make that assurance. Before last week, if you told me that I was going to voluntarily succumb to allowing a complete stranger to stick a tube the length of a basketball court up my back side and take pictures of my interior (probably to post on Facebook), I would have laughed my ass off. Perhaps I should have rephrased the previous sentence.
Introducing Placebolax® – from SCAMCO – the company that brought you the (not-quite-FDA-approved) sleep interrupter device Miracle Snore and Eye Can See, the popular battery-operated do-it-yourself laser eye surgery kit.
LIST OF ACTIVE INGREDIENTS: High fructose corn syrup, sugar, malt flavoring, more high fructose corn syrup, sodium ascorbic acid, something that tastes like chicken, dextrose, hydrogenated cornstarch, salt, processed flour, food coloring, red dye #2, 40, 67 and 85, soybean, caramel, riboflavin, thiamin, hydrochloride, super-duper high fructose corn syrup, Pez, dried egg whites, lithium, tortoise dung, something that used to look like yogurt, mono-something or other, cocoa extract, extract of cocoa, boiled linseed oil, vinegar, frosted flakes, 3 of KFC’s original herbs and spices (but we’re not authorized to tell you which 3), nutmeg, something that looks vaguely like rabbit pellets but we can’t locate the original container so we’re not really sure what it is, folic acid, battery acid, stomach acid, coconut juice, asbestos, fluoride (for stronger teeth), quartz, silicon, did we mention salt yet?, plutonium isotope, lead, unleavened yak intestines, eye of newt, DNA from some guy named Brad, petroleum byproducts, banana, and baby polar bear liver oil. (more…)
