son 2 - dad, i snuck into your room last night while you were sleeping.
big dumb dad - really?
son 2 - yep, i stole your butt.

there are certain unarguable basic truths of mathematics. truths so true that if they ceased being true, it would have truly horrific implications. bridges would fall, airplanes would drop from the sky, cats would explode, and belgian waffles would collapse under their own weight. an example of a mathematical truth would be, well i am much too busy writing this blog entry to get into it right now.

anyway, all this to draw a parallel (ironicaly drawing parallel lines depends on mathematical truths) to humor. humor also has certain unarguable truths. a mooring of comedy is the assumption that butts are funny (see, it worked already). if this truth ceased being true, it would be a humorless universe. Monty Python would explode, Bevis and Butthead would collapse under their own weight.

now, getting on to the point of this entry, much like mathematics has a beautiful mind in john nash, humor has a beautiful butt in my 5 year old son. such insight to the inner workings of comedy at such a young age is truly amazing. son two fully comprehends the funny that is "butt". as previously reported, "butt" has become the punch line to all his jokes, magnifying the hilarity by a factor of 8.

here is how it works.

why did the chicken cross the road? because he had a chicken butt.

knock, knock. who's there? a knocking butt.

what do you get when you cross an elephant with a pig? a butt.

i could site many more examples but i think you're picking up on what i am laying down. i will also have you know this post could cost me my life. i have broken the first commandment of the secret society of humorists, never reveal the secrets of funny. or maybe that was magicians. can't remember.

butt.

my holiday shopping began recently with a trip to the fantastically craptastic Big Lots. besides having the nations worst name, Big Lots claims to be the "nations largest broadline closeout retailer". an odd choice for a marketing catch phrase, i doubt many of their shoppers can decipher the meaning of "broadline closeout retailer". i emailed Big Lots a few catch phrases that might be a little more effective; "for the discriminating shopper unsatisfied with dollar general", "more crap than you can shake a stick at" and finally "our low, low prices are indicators of quality".

Big Lots sell things like hammers that don't work, giant bags of cookies suffering from early 70's Ukrainian packaging design, and an assortment of pre-broken toys. all things you'd never buy until you see the price. I had no desire or use for a plastic bucket filled with broken glass and macadamian nuts, but at $2, i'd have been a fool to pass it up.

so, in other words, Big Lots is not really the place you would holiday shop for the people you care about. it's an excellent place to find white elephant gifts for all the people at the office that you could care less about. for that reason, i love Big Lots. perhaps i should add "gifts for the people you hate" to the list of potential catch phrases.

stumbling across whoopee cushions in Big Lots was not a surprise, the fact that they were new self inflating whoopee cushions was a great surprise. such advanced technology surely belongs in the sharper image store, certainly not Big Lots. my love for technology coupled with my obsession with all things poo related, rendered me immediately fascinated. I was transfixed. "try me" proclaimed the packaging, such an invite could not be ignored. i squeezed it, nothing. i squeezed again, still nothing. the mechanical mind now engaged, i examined the self inflating whoopie cushion for the design flaw resulting in it's silence. i noticed the air intake portal was positioned on the top side center of the cushion. this is an important aspect of the design. in normal field use, a fat blubbery ass would block the escape of air through the intake, forcing it out the flapping rubber exhaust portal. the result being a sound easily mistaken for a big, fat, juicy, ass ripping fart.

putting the new theory into action, this time i squeezed with my thumb covering the intake portal. it worked. it worked really well. it worked really loud. in fact, it was the loudness that broke me from my transfixed state. it was the loudness that made me realize i had just made a big, fat, juicy, ass ripping fart noise in a store filled with shoppers. shoppers with ears. shoppers with mouths that will no doubt soon be recounting the story of some dude ripping monster farts at Big Lots.

i attempted to mitigate the embarrassment, with exaggerated theatrical movements trying to draw attention to the whoopie cushion. I dropped the it, picked it up and took it for a few laps around the store in hopes people would notice the whoopee cushion and realize i am not a public farter, only a sad, pathetic man obsessed with all things poo.

more about the design of the self inflating whoopie cushion...

I fear the positioning of the intake portal may have potentially horrific results. say one was to plant the cushion in the chair of a small and frail person. perhaps the chair of your grandmother. if grandmother sat just right with her personal exhaust portal perfectly aligned with the intake portal of the cushion, there is the chance the that the suction power of the self inflation device might deflate your grandmother. if this happened, i suggest quickly reversing the cushion, affixing the cushions exhaust portal to grandma's exhaust portal and squeezing the cushion, hopefully she will re-inflate.

one final thought on the self inflating whoopee cushion. personally i am glad to see the whoopie cushion industry looking into new inflation technologies but refusing to change the traditional design of the sound device used. it may be cheaper to use a microchip containing a digital recording of a fart. but the industry knows that digital audio has it's failings. the fidelity of a digitally sampled fart lacks the warmth and personality of an analog fart.

put down that ps2 controller for a moment and remember old skool gaming.

ps2 has never made a noise that rocks you to the bone like the pop of a free game.

i took a few photos of my new analog addiction, just for you.

never forget where it all began.