Sunday, January 07, 2007

For God's sake, I'm a prim and proper lady.

Sometimes I'm misunderstood.

My sense of humor can be so vulgar and offensive at times that people who first meet me tend to think that absolutely anything goes. Not so. Although there are admittedly few things I don't find funny, they do indeed exist.

The list of things I do find funnier is far longer. Supposedly off-limits subjects that I manage to crowbar into jokes on a regular basis:

-Alcohol and drug dependence/rehab
-Black market babies
-Terminal illness
-Physical and mental handicaps
-Fatal accidents
-Trading one's sister for 2 live chickens and a quart of tequila

Don't get me wrong--none of these things are funny where they actually exist. But joking about them existing where they don't is, in my opinion, good for a chortle. For instance, it's never funny when someone says, "My aunt Betty has been diagnosed with brain cancer." But when someone says (and they do, all the time) that if given a choice, they'd rather have brain cancer than be forced to read Assclownopolis, that's good stuff.

Zing! I kill me.

Things that are not at all funny to me include:

-Potty humor
-Knock-knock jokes
-Morning radio teams that call themselves "The Zoo"
-Jenna Elfman
-Anything that requires me saying the P word for a woman's private parts. (Oh, don't play dumb, you know what word. The one that rhymes I don't want to be so tedious as to refer to it repeatedly throughout this post as "the P word," so from here on out I'll give it the code name 'barrymanilow.'

Don't ask me why so many women are squeamish about saying barrymanilow. I think it's just inherent in the female makeup that most of us find it hard to utter that word. In fact, I never use the C word for a woman's private parts, either. Well, okay, that's not entirely true. Once, when my son was less than a year old and had a fever of over 100, I called our pediatrician's nighttime answering service. The surly bitch who answered the phone must have been in the middle of something very, very important--probably involving a metric ton of Twinkies and a bathtub full of Ben & Jerry's ice cream--judging by her level of irritation at being disturbed by my silly little phone call. Long story short, I was eventually forced--forced!--to call her the C word. I didn't want to do it, but the lady was begging for it, and I can only take so much begging before I cave. My always proper and polite husband stood nearby gaping at me in horror, and when he tried calmly to ask me what the hell I was thinking, I very nearly called him the C word, as well. As he backed away slowly, all I could think of in my defense was that a burning hot, screaming infant can cause a woman with an already-disagreeable personality to turn flat-out wolverine-like.

But in general, without the provocation of a bitter, hateful sow bent on impeding my ability to keep my son alive and healthy, I refrain from using either of those distasteful words. In fact, let that be a New Year's resolution of mine for 2007: The next time I have an encounter with someone as miserable and as deliberately difficult as that answering service trollop, I will refrain from calling her the C word, instead opting perhaps to call her a fucking whore, or maybe a disease-riddled crotchwaffle.


Spaceman Spiff said...

Crotchwaffle?? I guess you make up your own slams. . . . I kinda like crotchwaffles, provided the right crotch is involved. MMMMmmmmm Tasty!

Anonymous said...

I think "crotchwaffle" by definition requires a battered woman, and while I've spent my life eating the plain ones, we shouldn't make fun of domestic abuse, unless it's against guys, which is just kind of funny.

In a pinch, though, I find "senseless waste of carbon" to be intellectually baffling enough to shut most people the hell up.

karla said...

"Battered" woman? Waffle? Oh, man. Some people will stoop to any level for a joke. I can hear the internet groaning now.

karla said...

Mr. Fabulous:

Now that you mention it, this blog DOES seem rather empty and shallow, doesn't it?

Anonymous said...

First off Karla, I want to thank you for your seamless use of "chortle" in this post, as I am now $100 richer in one of my "blogger pools" as a result.

So, I just got here on red-eye out of Jenna Elfman's P***y, and boy, are my arms tired.

Oh crap. I just read the rest of your post. I am so sorry. The flip of this week's coin dictates that I'm supposed to amuse you.

Okay. Let me start over. I just bribed my way out of of Mexican jail (I'm sure you can relate to this one), managing to avoid prison rape by bartering away 2-live chickens and a quart of tequila.

Wait, who am I kidding? I wanted to keep one of the chickens, since it was the closest I'd ever come to kidnapping an actual black market baby.

So I put out, but I didn't enjoy it. Much. The resulting bowel "difficulties" and bowlegged walk, though initially painful to the extent of fueling my Sterno and Cosmopolitan habit, have reaped a bountiful harvest of parking spaces to both AA and AAA facilities. Which conveniently are located next door to each other and also to the Cancer treatment center.

That's right. As it turns out, my all-too-frequent sojourns to Karlababble have produced malignant lesions on my upper thighs and groin area due to second-hand debauchery.

Not to worry, though, as this has only brought me closer to God, and I now look forward to "meeting my maker". Preferably in my sleep, however, instead of through the usual method as a passenger in your car.

Well, I've made my peace. And surprisingly enough, I've accomplished nearly everything on my list. All that remains is to kill a homeless drifter. If time permits, I'll simply wait until you take another one in, and nab him there.

Anonymous said...

Crotchwaffle, eh? Hmm..I'll have to remember that one. You never know when it might come in handy!

Actually, I prefer the "crusty old crotchwaffle" to the disease-ridden one. But, I suppose it is just a matter of taste...

(sick...I didn't even mean to go there and then I did!)

Anonymous said...

Crotchwaffle, eh? Hmm..I'll have to remember that one. You never know when it might come in handy!

Actually, I prefer the "crusty old crotchwaffle" to the disease-ridden one. But, I suppose it is just a matter of taste...

(sick...I didn't even mean to go there...and then I did!)

Mighty Dyckerson said...

I ate at a CrotchWaffle House once. It was dark and reeked of dead fish. Not to mention, the eggs were runny.

Anonymous said...

I always find it totally baffles 'crotchwaffles' if you refer to them by using a word in a foreign language (doesn't even have to be a dirty word)--preferably a language that is a bit obscure: ie; Finnish, Croation, Australian Aborigine. If the person you are talking to is a pure 'crotchwaffle,' you may actually be able to make her cry! What more could you want?

Anonymous said...

Regardless of what you're calling it these days - pouring syrup and butter on it isn't going to fool anyone into to wanting to eat it.

Effortlessly Average said...

Hmmm... Crotchwaffle. Yes, that has a certain flair and produces a chortle at the mere thought. But sometimes the person is just too despicable for something that evokes humor. For these people, I reserve the term: cumdumpster.

It works equally well on men.

Anonymous said...

Persoanlly, i prefer the term Twattwaffle. It has a nice ring to it.

Anonymous said...

I disagree. The "C" and "P" words are absolutey fantastic for traffic usage. I only stopped using them at the top of my lungs (while safely in my car with the windows rolled up) because my 18-month old mimics everything I say and I don't care for the daycare confrontations. Now I make grand gestures.
It's like take back the night, you have to take back the ugly words and make them funny. Though I don't recommend insulting the medical community. It's like the Swedish Mafia.

Anonymous said...

The whole internet went dead silent after that last comment by commonwombat... what will come next..... when will the silence stop!

Karl said...

So, given that you don't like the "C" and "P" words for ladybits, what words DO you find acceptable when referring to your yabbamango? I've always wondered how women like having their privates referred as.

Anonymous said...

Personally, when referring to women's genitalia, I prefer "sperm dumpster" and "penis holster".

dizzy von damn! said...

i liked when todd called someone a pig vulva. you should use that one sometimes.

Anonymous said...

I'm a doctor, Jim, NOT an engineer!

karla said...

puerileuwaite: Have we dated?

Wombat: Die.

Karl: I prefer hoo-ha. It's ambiguous-sounding and just cute enough that a person might mistake it for being a reference to a cartoon or an exotic bird. But in a pinch, "hey nanny nanny" is pretty funny, too. Or even "common wombat."

Lisa Armsweat said...

Crotchwaffles are so much better than labia pancakes. Thick, flappy, labiacakes. And I certainly hope there's no 'strawberry compote,' if you know what I'm sayin'.

Anonymous said...

roflmao. Dayam, I have to remember not to read your posts while eating or drinking...unless there is someone close by who can perform the heimlach maneuver when I begin choking to death.

It's national de-lurking week, so hello. And I may have to borrow, yeah BORROW the term crotchwaffle.

karla said...

Armsweat: I think that's actually "labia flapjacks."

Sarah: G'head, take liberties with my crotchwaffle. Half the truckers in the midwest already have, so why not you?

Ben said...

That is definitely one NYR that has to go, your at your best Longshorewoman Style KB.


Anonymous said...

One of the funniest jokes I ever heard involves battered women (not the crotchwaffle kind). Actually, two of them do.

I don't usually tell them in mixed company.

Anonymous said...

Internet decorum RULES!
When I was a wee girl, we would call that region the "front butt". That makes is sound like it was the topic of discussion alot, but it really wasn't, no really.

Anonymous said...

I think we should call our vaginas whatever our "word verification" letters spell. For example, today, on Karlababble, my vagina is called a "smenita." Nice! Kind of sexy and foreign, but maybe not-so-clean?

trinity67 said...

There's a Ukrainian folk song wherein you sing about how when you were young and pretty, you sold your mother for half a pound of butter.

Okay that sounded funnier in my head.

trinity67 said...

Chebbles I also got smenita as the verification word but what's even more interesting is that I too thought smenita would be a good word for a vagina.

karla said...

Chebbles & Trinity: I swear to God, I got smenita on word verification today too. What, does Blogger just use one word for the whole day now? Are they running out of ideas? But unlike you two nutbags, I did not associate the word with my vagina in anyway. It sounded like a venereal disease to me, which made me think of Common Wombat.

Okay, this is ridiculous. Smenita is my word verification again for this comment. I shit you not.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Funny. Whenever I comment here, my word verification is "FuckUdyCkerSon"...

~Tim said...

The crudest joke ever told to me by a woman used the barrymanilow word. I posted it

Anonymous said...

crotchwaffle is bad.

i could never get things right when it comes to joke, never seem to get what's on the banned list for the year, so i just stop making jokes these days.

Anonymous said...

You will appreciate this link, then:

Heh, my word verification ends in "cum". Hey, it's not toilet humor.

Anonymous said...

Let me get this straight, you would rather make a joke about a murdering rapist that had an abortion to avoid selling his baby on the blackmarket or risk a kidnapping only to find his uber-religous wife who was handicapped and terminally ill had an an affair of infidelity while drunk on tequilla trading sisters and chickens to an alcoholic that soon had a fatal accident than make a joke about poop...

I don't get it.

AcePro said...

There is nothing more refreshing than a woman who speaks her mind clearly, directly, and refreshingly honest.

Thank you for your words.

So Cal