The Humour Club discussion

In our house it is a rule that if you do something stupid, you have to share it with everyone in the house (even if no one saw you do it). This gives everyone the opportunity to have a nice laugh. This also helps your self esteem by giving you the opportunity to laugh at yourself, and lets you know that everyone has those moments. This is my latest entry in the stupid confessional:

The battery has been getting weaker in our garage door opener, and sometimes fails to open the door on command. The other night I pulled into the driveway and pressed the button and nothing happened. after a number of expletives, and thirty minutes of button pushing, I catch a flash of light out of the corner of my eye. Sure enough, a further button press revealed that the garage door at the house to my right came open, and I had been sitting in my neighbors drive screaming like a fool because his garage door wouldn't open when I wanted it to.

I know there are others out there who have gotten into the wrong car in the parking lot, or had some other lapse of judgement. here is were you wash yourself of that moment and we can have a good laugh as a bonus.

I've told this story to another group, or maybe it was on someone's book review; I'm old and starting to repeat myself.
Anyway, if you've heard this one before - stop reading!

Eight years ago, we were trying to sell our house. The realtor called and said she was bringing some interested buyers around in about thirty minutes. In a hurried attempt to declutter the kitchen, I shoved my plastic dish drainer into the oven. The next night . . . you guessed it - I cranked the oven to 425 to make a frozen pizza without checking inside first. OOO-OOOH, THAT SMELL! Most of it turned into a puddle that peeled easily off the oven floor, but the melted red stalactites hanging from the oven rack were a real pain to get rid of.

I've pulled some boners since then, but that remains my biggest (and smelliest.)

Awesome participation in the topic.

I can't even tell you how many times I've baked that cardboard circle. I've done it so much, that my family automatically asks me about it when I go to cook a pizza.

Rodney, our worst, and at this point I can't even say which of us was driving either time, was driving into the garage with a bike on the roof rack. Twice. Nothing to laugh at there, really.

But I'm constantly doing absent-minded little absurdities. I just can't remember what they are.

When I was in my mid-20s (long, long ago as my kids think), I used to go to meet up with a bunch of friends for happy hour at a restaurant in Ft. Lauderdale called The Bimini Boatyard. It was a big place that edged the Intracoastal waterway and had bars both inside and outside the restaurant. We always met up outside where the boats docked.

Oh, I forgot to tell you: I have a facial memory problem. When I'm in a crowd of people, it's very difficult for me to be able to "know" a face for sure. I often recognize them but it takes a bit of time or for me to hear the voice before I'm certain whom I'm talking to.

One Friday it was over-crowded when I entered the restaurant. As I made my way to the back to go to the outside bar, a man met my eyes and I SWEAR I saw in them that look that say "Hey! I know you!" So I stopped to say hello, not to be rude.

In south Florida, if you know someone, you kiss them on the cheek when you say "hello." I went to kiss him and someone bumped into me, so I wound up kissing him on the mouth. I laughed and asked how he was doing, thinking once I heard the voice, I'd recognize him.

It was so crowded and loud we had to stand next close and lean in to almost shout in each other's ears so we could hear each other. We chatted for a while and I just couldn't place the voice. I asked how work was going to see if that would jog something in my memory. Nope. I asked what his plans were for the weekend. Still nothing clicked. Finally I asked, "Have you seen Glenn and the rest of them? I'm supposed to be meeting everyone here." (Glenn was my boyfriend). He looked confused and shook his head.

Right around then, Steve, Glenn's best friend tugged my arm and asked me what I was doing. I told him I was looking for everyone. He dragged me through the crowd to the dock. Once outside, I asked him who I'd been talking to. He had no idea.

Turns out I'd kissed a man on the mouth and pressed my body up close to his and I never knew him.

Never saw him again that I'm aware of.

LOL, great story. I'm sure he "hated" that, and probably tells the story about the one time a stranger came up and kissed him.

Rebecca wrote: "Rodney, our worst, and at this point I can't even say which of us was driving either time, was driving into the garage with a bike on the roof rack. Twice. Nothing to laugh at there, really.

But I..."

I don't know, I can imagine watching that as a bystander, and I can't help but laugh at it. Especially if I was present for both incidents.

I just stumbled into this thread.
I've never done anything like that.
Sorry I can't contribute. /bullsht

CartoonistAndre wrote: "I just stumbled into this thread.
I've never done anything like that.
Sorry I can't contribute. /bullsht"

Embrace the stupid.

Lisa--you too? I've never kissed a strange man (though as a child I hugged a strange man who I thought was my father), but I totally have face-blindness. That's one reason I like to stick to a buddy at social events. Preferably someone who knows everyone and can tip me off if I know them too.

I also have a strong fondness for people with really distinctive hair or styles of dress, or who always wear the same jacket....

Rebecca wrote: "I also have a strong fondness for people with really distinctive hair or styles of dress, or who always wear the same jacket....
"

That's describes me.

I'm pretty good with faces. We had a weird phenomenon at our school. Out of 80 kids in my class we had eight sets of twins. That's correct, one out of every five people was a twin. Something in the water I guess. I got to where I could even tell the difference between the identical twins.

Since then I've traveled with the Navy and gotten pretty good at detecting nationalities. I'm better at the oriental nationalities since all of my Navy tour was Pacific coast.

Rodney wrote: " got to where I could even tell the difference between the identical twins."

Impressive, Rodney! I can't even tell the difference between two unrelated strangers if they're in a crowded room.

And what a strange phenomenon -- 1 in 5 kids, a twin?

We had the record size class, nearly a third of the school. It made things easier as a freshman. Too many of us to pick on.

Lisa wrote: "And what a strange phenomenon -- 1 in 5 kids, a twin?"

Perhaps, not so strange when you consider that teens often share a nice pair of jeans.

Lisa wrote: "Rodney wrote: " got to where I could even tell the difference between the identical twins."

Impressive, Rodney! I can't even tell the difference between two unrelated strangers if they're in a cro..."

Yeah, I'm impressed!

My 2nd grade class of maybe 25 had 6 left-handed kids--about 25%, compared to the norm in society of 10%. Statistical anomalies happen.

Lisa wrote: "When I was in my mid-20s (long, long ago as my kids think), I used to go to meet up with a bunch of friends for happy hour at a restaurant in Ft. Lauderdale called The Bimini Boatyard. It was a big..."


Very Funny Story. And I found it interesting that both you and Rebecca claim a degree of face-blindness. Have you ever read neurologist Oliver Sacks discussion of his severe face-blindness. His prosopagnosia (that's neurologist for a certain type of face-blindness) is so severe that he made the following "stupid confessionals" in one of his books (I can't remember which book.)

On one occasion, he walked into a hotel lobby and saw a gray-haired bearded man about his height walking straight at him. When Sacks got within a couple of feet of the other guy, Sacks ducked to the right, and stranger moved right into Sack's path. Sacks then moved to the left, and the man again moved into his path. Then Sacks realized he was walking into a wall-sized mirror, and that he had failed to recognize that the person in the mirror was him. (He didn't kiss him though, Lisa, you trollop.)

In another instance, just the opposite happened. Sacks was in a looking in a restaurant window and, seeing his reflection, noticed that his beard and/or hair was mussed up. So he took out a comb and tried to spruce up a little, only to experience a rather severe psychic shock when his reflexion refused to reciprocate. Turns out the face on the other side of the window was just some other bearded guy who was looking out.

As I said above, I don't remember which of Sack's books discusses prosopagnosia, but I did find the following article by Sacks in The New Yorker, in case your interested in reading more about face-blindness.

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/201...

Rodney wrote: ". . .e had a weird phenomenon at our school. Out of 80 kids in my class we had eight sets of twins.

A few years ago there was a conspiracy theory going around based on a similar freak outbreak of twins in a small town in Brazil. Some people were convinced that strange epidemic of multiples was proof that the book The Boys from Brazil by Ira Levin (1976) was true, that those mad Nazi doctors from WWII were trying to clone Adolf Hitler so they could once again try to take over the world. (The cloning in the book involved multiple multiples so that nutty Nazi's could pick just the right Fuhrer.)

Did the fact that some of your classmates had little stumpy mustaches help you identify them?

Here is an article about the Nazi twin conspiracy:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/world...

Pseudonymous wrote: "I did find the following article by Sacks in The New Yorker, in case your interested in reading more about face-blindness.
"

Thanks for the article on prosopagnosia.

I found the whole thing fascinating. I have great difficulty imagining it, as I appear to be on the opposite side of that spectrum or am a “super-recognizer” as the article says. I recognize people I haven’t seen in thirty to forty years and know immediately if I’ve ever seen them before, even if we have only met in passing.

No, what I suffer from is dyschronometria (unable to detect the passage of time) which in a way is similar. I have to make great adjustments in what I do to compensate. For one, I have a watch that might as well be glued to my hand. I wear it to bed, in the shower, and everywhere else. The thing never comes off my wrist and I’m in great discomfort the moment the battery dies.

People also call me absentminded, as I cannot tell the difference if I have told you something two minutes ago, or two days ago. I have been known to start and end a conversation with days in-between. There have been times when my watch has fallen off my wrist during a quick trip to someplace close, and I only came home hours later when I noticed that the sun had set.

For short time intervals I consult my watch. For long time intervals I note when I cut my fingernails last and check the current length of the nails.

Pseudonymous wrote: "Did the fact that some of your classmates had little stumpy mustaches help you identify them?
"

They said it was a class project, but I suspected.

That's fascinating, Rodney! I could accuse my spouse of having that, but it's really only true when there's a computer in front of him. If that computer needs programming, then all bets are totally off.

I don't have prosopagnosia to the extent Sack did (the disconnect between my mental image of myself and the actual one is, I think, the fairly normal one of failing to account for age) (though on consideration, I doubt I could draw a picture of my own face, any more than I could my husband or kids, even if I could draw).

Rodney wrote: "CartoonistAndre wrote: "I just stumbled into this thread.
I've never done anything like that.
Sorry I can't contribute. /bullsht"

Embrace the stupid."

I'm embracing! I'm embracing!

Wow, the past few days have been interesting. And I find we have some interesting similarities, I also remember faces very well and not so much in names or other things. Also include absent-mindedness. Ask my wife!

Rodney, I want you to know that it took me a while to put something together, not because I think I don't do stupid things or fear admitting it, but I couldn't think of anything really funny. All the previous posts which were amazing were so well told. But I remembered a recent goof-up;

Finishing up my late afternoon landscaping, just before going inside, I'd decided to spray the perimeter of the house with some insecticide-
Yes, I am guilty of insecticide!
I went all along the front with a gallon spray bottle, laying about a foot and a half wide swath, whistling a tune. Then turning the corner, I got a whiff something not right. I looked closely at the side of the can and read: Weed Killer -Yes I kill a lot!- exactly where I'd written it down, so that I wouldn't forget. In a way it's fortunate, however; I need to lay down some stone, shell or mulch to keep our dusty soil from splashing against the house when it rains.

Also I wanted to remind you about that 50 bucks you borrowed last week?

Oh Rodney! What a bummer. Well, if the neighbors ask, you could always tell them you were trying to create a northern winter landscape theme.

Excellent confession, and the check is in the mail.

Thank you, sir, but you failed to inquire where I reside. As this is surely a mere oversight, I will forego the interest attached if you act promptly.

Pseudonymous wrote: "So he took out a comb and tried to spruce up a little, only to experience a rather severe psychic shock when his reflexion refused to reciprocate..."

I have just noticed that I somehow misspelled "reflection" in this post. For someone in my profession, this is a great embarrassment. I am ashamed. It is a great loss of face, and I will have to commit Harry Caray.

I assume the editor missed it too.

Rodney wrote: "I assume the editor missed it too."

I 'm thinking Harry was the editor.

Pseudonymous wrote: "Pseudonymous wrote: "So he took out a comb and tried to spruce up a little, only to experience a rather severe psychic shock when his reflexion refused to reciprocate..."

I have just noticed that ..."

I prefer to think of it as a personalized spelling. Or British.

Joel wrote: "I prefer to think of it as a personalized spelling. Or British..."

Don't be ridiculous, Joel, the British can't spell! Still, you have to appreciate their sense of humour.

Lisa wrote: "When I was in my mid-20s (long, long ago as my kids think), I used to go to meet up with a bunch of friends for happy hour at a restaurant in Ft. Lauderdale called The Bimini Boatyard. It was a big..."

Lisa wrote: "When I was in my mid-20s (long, long ago as my kids think), I used to go to meet up with a bunch of friends for happy hour at a restaurant in Ft. Lauderdale called The Bimini Boatyard. It was a big..."

I loved this scene! Rotfl. Guy won the lottery... Free make out session out of the blue!

Once, I had a real bad fight with my friends early in the morning due to some misunderstandings the previous night. I got to my office and my manager hadn't arrived, so everyone was quite at ease, laughing and commenting TV shows very cheerfully. As I was very upset and couldn't join the conversation, I went to the kitchen and started to cut some bread and put salt and olive oil over it to do some mediterranean toasts on the microwave for everyone. But when I put them inside the micro, instead of the iron dish, I grabbed a plastic one. Easily distracted as I usually am, I got on the phone with my then boyfriend and told him the whole story of the previous night (which was reaaaaally long) when two of my co-workers get into the kitchen quite panicked because there was such a smell of burnt plastic as well as a suspicious smoke getting to the office. Needless to say, I let the toasts heat for about 10 minutes and screwed the whole thing up.