Weeding out the Morons(cont.)

Okay, to cont, my Weeding out the Morons post, I'll choose a few of the subtler jokes. Feel free to check if you get it.

For instance, did you get the footnote two posts ago?

-*So maybe I'll never be Stephen King. Big deal. -

Think about it.

Now, the expected thing for me to write in the footnote is jokes about.... affection, but that's, well, expected. Instead, I the joke was that I'll never write a horror story*

  Now, here's a test to see how many of my jokes you could get.  I'll use Re-entering the US 

as an example.  I copied the posts below and put a numbered each joke(number is inserted after the jokes). Obviously, I'll forget 1 or 2, either because I honestly don't know, it was only a half-joke, or it was so common, the joke's hardly worth mentioning. And of course, not all of the jokes listed will be funny to everyone. In fact, if you even get half of them(and liked more than 10 percent of those you get), I'll be more than satisfied. 

Okay, so after an extremely extended visit in China, I'm flying back to the U.S. Which should have been pretty cool, but it isn't. Really. For starters, my plane ticket isn't a straight flight. It's from Beijing to Tokyo to Detroit to Washington D.C. For enders, our trip coincided with an international terrorist alert(1). In other words, not the most efficient flight(s) I've been in(2). Really.

In Beijing, we were called for a random security check. Four men in full-black suits searched our suitcases for an exhausting 11 minutes and 17 seconds(Yes. I timed it.)(3) One of them seems particularly interested in my DVDs (conveniently bought at some place called "Li's Black Market")(4). I could just guess what he was thinking. I mentally steeled myself for the questionnaire by going through what he may say in advance.

Guy(holding up a DVD):What's that?(5)
Me:It's a DVD

Guy:Our policy does not allow this type of C-(6)

Just then, another black suited guy came up and had a whispered conference with the first one. From what I could hear, it seems a heated debate.(7)
Guy:Like I said, Our policy does not allow this type of C(8)-*discreet coughing from the other guy*, I mean DVDs.

Me:What type?

Him:Harmful, dangerous material(9).
Me:How is that dangerous?It's Tom&Jerry(10), for god's sake.

Him:Religion Alert(11)!!!
Me:Oops. So what?
Him:Your passport says that you're a freethinker. Never mention God's name if you are not a believer. It shows disrespect to him.
Me:I object! God doesn't exist! Besides, you're supposed to be impartial
Him:Oh, re-
(A lightning bolt hit a tree only two feet away from the nearest window)(12)
Me:O....k. I hereby withdraw my objection.(13)

Him:Good. Now, back to the main point: Your CD clearly contains dangerous materials(14).
Me:How so?
Him:Let's see...intense violence(15), disrespect for figures of authority(16), events going against the order of nature(17), the small triumphing over the strong(18), possibility of bird flu through un-licensed, stray, illegal dogs(19*), a made-in-china sign over a defective mouse trap(20) ...the list just goes on and on.
Me:It's just a cartoon
Him: So what? Anyway, your CD-
Other Guy:whispers something angrily in chinese.

They had a heated discussion in private. I decided to use the time to make myself scarce.

(Hear concludes Part 1. The highlights of Part 2 includes overpriced water in Tokyo and Customs+Security check in Detroit. Keep tuned!)

*To tell you the truth, I never get why anyone would like Stephen King. His plots are so predictable,  a mouse could chew through the front cover and poop out the epilogue. 

Weeding out the Morons

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  One of the interesting things about my blog is that it's dedicated to preserving intelligence. For some quite obvious reasons, there has yet to be any idiots reading my blog and actually liking it. Of course, there are exceptions, but these are so rare, they could be counted on the fingers of a blind assassin's* hand. A far more likely scenario would that of some said idiot reading my blog and not understanding a word of it(or extremely "big" words like negotiate**, for that matter). Of course, there are certain smart people who read my blog and don't even think it's mildly funny, but their sense of humor would be generally proportionate to their chances of getting dates.*** 

  If I had plans on dominating the world(not that I'm Yuanmashita or anything. I'm speaking purely hypothetically), the first test of whether they would be allowed to continue  their existence would be for them to read my blog and ask them to explain the jokes. Seems like a very important evolutionary trait to me. So if you're reading my blog, consider yourself lucky. Not only are you smart and funny, you're also be permitted to live and breed. 

  Congratulations.

 

*An admirable trait, not to mention proof of a full implementation of the Americans with Disabilities Act in the organized crime syndicates 

**Really, somebody I know said just that.

***Unless you count Donald Trump. But hey, that guy's so rich and famous, he could be impressing women from beyond the grave. Just saying. 

The Roller Costar-Part 2

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Note:If you are somewhat unintelligent(in which case sign up for the above program), and can't get the hint, please note that this post is the continuation of the previous post. If you can't figure out what's the previous post, please sign up for the above program and ask for the slow classes. Really.

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  So, finally, we got to the front of the line. It was an inspirational moment for me. The greatest time of my life. I felt like singing Hallelujah. Well, not really, but you get the point.  

  So we waited a while for the coaster cart thingy to come, then we got in the back cart-ish thingy. After we went through the usual security procedures,......nothing happened. What a surprise!

  So I said(be amazed at my ingenuity) :"Nothing hap-" 

  My words were very rudely cut off by the sudden, extreme acceleration of the cart. I would have complained but I was too busy being scared(Yes, I'm not exactly the bravest guy in the world. Or the second.... or the millionth.... Or the billionth. Or the third-to-last-bravest. Or the....Well, you get the point). Anyway, we went through an extremely and possibly fatal patterns of highs and lows, dips and whorls , spins, and et cetera, often spinning 360 degrees and, well, stuff. Finally, we got to the climax of the ride. We were at least 100 miles in mid-air(well, not really,  but that's what it feels like. Yes, I'm scared easily. I thought we already established that fact). 

  I feel scared. I feel frightened. I feel excited. More, I was exhilarated. My breath was coming fast.My heart was beating haphazardly I was smiling in a manner more commonly enjoyed by extreme race car drivers, surfers riding the high waves, people, er, enjoying themselves with members of the opposite gender and Islamic extremists carrying loaded explosives in their backpacks and driving in a way that suggests they have a somewhat odd idea of pleasure.* My ears were ringing. I heard a ringtone faintly in the distance.

  Wait a second, a ringtone? That doesn't make sense. Besides, I don't even like Avril. After a few seconds of careful consideration and use of my phenomenal brain, I decided that the ringtone was caused by the cell-phone of the lady three seats in front of me. This was deduced by her taking out her phone and saying, 

"Hello!!"

It was followed up by a conversation

"Hi **********(name censored to protect writer from lawsuit)"

"No, that's okay......Yeah, sure.Of course I'm not busy....What??Really?...She did?...I told her not too.....Yeah....Uh-huh...Sure...Of course I'll come..."

She kept talking before, after and during the plummet. For some strange and unknown reason, that ruined the moment for us. A little. 

After we got out, we had to go home because the park was closing down. 

Conclusion:

Money spent:$110

Time Spent in the lines: over 5 hours

Time on the ride: all of 2 minutes.

*So maybe I'll never be Stephen King. Big deal. 

  

The Roller Costar- Part 1

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Note: This series of events happened on June 15th, Father's Day.

You know how some kids buy their paternal parents hideous or useless gifts that their dad is supposed to like for Father's Day! Well, my father kinda of intrepreted the message differently. He decided that this Father's Day, he'll actually try to be a father(The gesture was mildly spoiled by the fact that since it is Father's Day, I did have to pay for our tickets) . So he took me to this theme park called the Seven Flags**.

This really made me feel like a kid again. In fact, last time I was in a theme park, I was six. It also rekindles fond memories of childhood. Well, not so fond.. It involved me, balloons, wires, a really, really, dry day, the wood on the old-fashioned roller coasters, and one of Benjamin Franklin's stupid discoveries. Namely, static electricity. The fire burned down quite a bit of the theme park. Strangely, I was banned from that one, on grounds of instigating a fight. I still think the clown started it. (Hey, that man with a giant red nose did have a face only a mother would love )

Annoying Flashbacks aside, my father drove us to the theme park.

Then we headed for the most traumatic experience in the entire theme park. We waited in line for tickets. We waited in line. And waited. And waited some more. Seriously, is this a theme park or an airport??***. By the time we got to the end of the line, my knees were quivering. My ears were ringing. My hair was all over the place(Mostly due to frustration). Seriously, is that a scary theme park or what??

We finally bought the tickets($49.95 each plus taxes) and semi-cheerfully headed for a ride. It was called the Ace****Then we headed for what Americans probably consider the most important and scary part of the ride-the line. So, again, we waited. And waited. And waited some more. I didn't keep track of how long it took(the watch I bought from the entrance broke and the warranty was expired somewhere halfway through the line)***** , but it was definetely a long time.


Note:In case you're wondering why I had such a weird title, it's because I liked the pun. No other reasons. Sorry to disappoint you conspiracy buffs.

*Shipping and Handling not included
**Names have been slightly altered to protect the writer from lawsuit
***Urban Legends tell of a guy who met a pretty girl, married her, raised a family, divorced(with the help of a friendly lawyer, also a fellow quener who settled the legal stuff for free), and had the children tall enough to pass the meter for a ride while in line. Don't believe the rumors, though^
****Names have been changed to protect the writer from lawsuit. If you want a hint, it also has something to do with(and rhymes with) poker, and it's higher than an Ace
*****Don't ask.
^I find it hard to believe that lawyers would do anything for free.

SAT-Part 3-I've No Idea WHat To Call It

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Notes(1):If you are confused by the title, it's because I can't think of a better title

Notes(2):Check out Alcibade's website if you want some really hard riddles.
Notes(3):Also, please check my blog more regularly. I'll post more from now onwards.
Notes(4):Check out the Dilbert comics, conveniently located as a widget on my blog
Notes(5):A lot of people asked me if and what I watch on TV(as if that's the prime element of inspiration for intellect and humor). The answer is yes, but there's no specific program I enjoy(unless you count the highly intelligent Japanese anime Death Note), so don't bother watching those programs thinking that you could gleen off highly intelligent humor from them.

Note(6):Yes, I know all these notes are annoying

 After a while and no more signs, we all decided(by virtue of everybody(Read:nobody) agreeing to do so) to head back to the original waiting area. They were just going in line for the different rooms of the SAT(The real rooms, this time).  We waited for quite some time. It was all really suspenseful. 

 Then, we got the tests.*The first portion was the essay. The essay question was about the advantages and disadvantages of progress. 

 Let's just say that I prefer the old times because you don't have to take tests in the good old days. Nor do you have to take the essay. Nor do you have to have 24 nerve-ridden minutes at a state of mental shutdown and then make up a lousy essay doomed to mediocrity(even if it had enough time to be finished, which wasn't the case)in the remaining minute. 

How I missed the good old days.

*it's one of the rules of the universe that when the suspense is high, the actual thing to be suspenseful for is rarely worth the suspense**

**Try to say that 5 times fast. 

***Actually, I didn't do that bad.(Out of 800)

630 Writing 85th percentile

680 Math     91st percentile

770 Critical Reading 99th percentile