Post #169 from Dr. Crankenfuss, The World’s Awesomest Raving and Rapping middle school blogger–
Okay, we’re at the local Costco, okay. Great store overall! Where else can I buy a like a 60-pound bag of chocolate bars for the price of a 3-pound bag in a regular grocery store? And their $5 roasted-on-a-spit chickens are bigger than most turkeys. Okay, I exaggerate, but they really are big. But they have one problem that’s even bigger than their roasted chickens (or those bags of chocolate).
See, I was there with my mom — seeing as how I don’t exactly drive yet — and we only had about three items in our cart, including that chicken and not including that bag of chocolate I was begging for. And we get to the cash registers and here the problem begins.
The lines were H-U-G-E!! And even though we only had three freakin’ things in our cart, it still took us like 15 minutes to get through the line. Not fair, y’all.
Oy!! Look at that monster cart to the left of the picture. That’s about a month’s worth of food. And that was ahead of us! A-y-y-y!
And yes, I went to the supervisor’s desk or whatever it’s called and asked (really politely at first) why they didn’t have an express line and they gave the same old line they gave me last time — that other people had asked the same question and that they had told the higher-ups at their headquarters, but there was nothing they could do about it. In fact, the lady told me that it wouldn’t be fair for someone with fewer items to get ahead because this way everybody was dealt with “in order.”
Huh? What could be so hard about doing something that every grocery store has figured out? Hey, I saw one guy there with ONE THING in his cart — a 20 roll container of toilet paper — man, he must have been in some trouble — and he had to wait just like all of us. I bet he didn’t even make it to his bathroom in time.
And for those of you out there who thinks SAM’S has a better system, THEY DON’T. So come on, you giant warehouse retailers. Give your customers who don’t need a truck full of stuff a chance to get through the lines faster. P-L-E-A-S-E!!
Just a simple request
that I’ve already discussed,
An idea whose time has come
from Dr. Crankenfuss
Post #168 from Dr. Crankenfuss, The World’s Awesomest Raving and Rapping middle school blogger–
Okay, I’m still a bit steamed from looking over a bunch of nursery rhymes that somehow have been around for hundreds of years and no one has the guts to say, “These things are kind of stupid, don’t you think?” Well no one, that is, until Dr. Crankenfuss came along. In my last post I tore up “Pease Porridge Hot” so bad I don’t know if it’ll ever recover. Besides that, I sent an email to the Center of Disease Control in Atlanta to tell them how dangerous this poem was for little children’s health (or for adults, if they’re still getting off on nursery rhymes). But so far they haven’t written back. I’m still waiting though.
Now here’s another one, maybe in the top five of all time. And I admit, it’s nowhere near as dangerous as the last one. Actually it’s not dangerous at all. And I also admit I’m being kind of picky with this one. But I don’t care. It still needs fixing and you’ll see why. It’s a cute little thing that teaches little kiddies how to count to ten and it’s called ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE. “I know that one, Crankenfuss, ” you’re probably saying. “What’s the matter with that one?” Well, it’s just that it bugs me how the author just came up with any old line at the end that would rhyme so the poem would be done with. And no one’s ever bothered to fix it, even though it would be easy. Here, let me show you what I mean.
ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE
Let’s start off with the first two lines. (I bet you’ve already figured them out.) “One, two, buckle my shoe.” Yes, I agree it’s a nice little rhyme. It has a couple numbers and then an action that is recommended. I got no problem with that.
“Three, four, shut the door.” Yes, two more numbers and a recommended action. See, that old-fashioned dude is doing just what he’s told. (BTW, nice clothes, kid! Man, I’m glad we don’t dress like that anymore. If I wore that to school, I’m sure I’d be laughed right out into the street, if not farther. Can you say, “newest victim of bullying”?)
“Five, six, pick up sticks.” Still no complaint here. Numbers, then an action.
“Seven, eight, lay them straight.” You’re seeing a definite pattern here, aren’t you? So obviously the last one will follow this same pattern, won’t it? Of course it will.
WRONG!! It’s “Nine, ten, a big fat hen.” Scuse me?? Yeah, it’s got the numbers and there’s a rhyme, but where’s the action? It’s like the writer just said, “Hey, nobody’ll care if I can’t think of an action for this one. I’ll just stick in something that’ll rhyme. I mean, it’s just for dumb little kids who can’t even count. What’ll they care?” The writer might as well have put, “A ten-foot pen” or “Three wise men” or “Your own play pen.” That nursery rhyme genius JUST DIDN’T CARE!
Well, it’s obvious that nobody else has cared for hundreds of years, neither little kids — but I forgive them because what do they know? — or their parents, but that doesn’t keep ol’ Crankenfuss from pointing out that this is pure, sloppy, lazy writing. How hard could it be to come up with an action that rhymes with “ten”? Hey, I have the perfect one: “Nine, ten, Let’s do it again.” See, that makes the whole thing circular. It takes you back to the beginning and that little cutie pie will keep repeating and repeating and repeating — oh, you get the picture — until those ten numbers are fused into her little brain (or his, of course).
Can you think of a more perfect last line?
It’s like that “Pete and Repeat”joke that ends with the word “Repeat” so the teller has to repeat the thing over and over. And yeah, I know it’s dumb, but it DOES make sense and little kids love it. And they’ll like the Crankenfuss version of “One, Two, Buckle my Shoe” better as well for the same reason. It just makes sense.
I learned at school that Robert Kennedy, President Kennedy’s brother once said, “There are those that look at things the way they are, and ask why? I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?”
Yes, I think Robert Kennedy would think Dr. Crankenfuss would fit into that important second category. ‘Cause that’s what I do, ya know?
From a guy who should have been around way back when
nursery rhymes were being created. That way, millions
of little children would be better off.
Post #167 from Dr. Crankenfuss, The World’s Awesomest Raving and Rapping middle school blogger–
“There still has to be someone to stand up to the stupid stuff and people in the world, doesn’t there?” Yep, that’s a quote straight from my last post and once again, it didn’t take me long to find something that needs pointing out. This is kind of an itch that just keeps itching because these things have been annoying me for a long time. It’s the dumbicity of so many classic nursery rhymes. How do these things stay so popular?
Here’s a picture from an old nursery rhymes book. You can probably tell which one it is: “Hey, Diddle, Diddle.” In case you don’t quite understand this silly picture, I’ve labeled a bit of it for you. But there’s no reason to get into putting this poem down. That’s because I already did that — in gory detail — in my book DR. CRANKENFUSS’S HUMOR BOOK FOR GUYS: VOLUME 2. In that book I also dissect “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep” and “Little Jack Horner.” And when I say dissect, I mean I cut ’em up, baby.
I destroy a a few other nursery rhymes in my first DR. CRANKENFUSS’S HUMOR BOOK FOR GUYS, including “Humpty Dumpty” and “Rub-a-Dub-Dub” — ooh, that last one gets a particularly sharp blade.
But today I’m going to talk about “Pease Porridge Hot.” I found it in a book of rhymes that still (somehow) sits in my mom’s office. She says it brings back good memories of her and my childhoods. Gwah! I’m lucky I survived if this is what my mom was feeding me. I coulda died!
Okay, here it is, in case you don’t have it memorized.
Pease porridge hot,
Pease porridge cold.
Pease porridge in the pot,
Nine days old.
Some like it hot,
Some like it cold.
Some like it in the pot
Nine days old.
So first of all, Pease Porridge basically means Pea Soup. This thing was supposedly written in the 1700s so we can give it a pass on the spelling. Back then, that’s the way they did it, okay? But let’s look at what it SAYS!! Just look at that second verse. “Some like it… nine days old.” Whaaa?? Like who? I wonder. Someone who wants to get e-coli or norovirus, that’s what I say. Who’d leave out a pot of soup for nine days and then feed it to anyone, much less their wittle dahwing baby? And yes, it might be hard to see that it’s full of disease and death because mold is kind of the same color as pea soup, but c’mon, y’all. Cut me some slack here. NOBODY would think this was good nutrition advice for children. But that’s who is most affected by nursery rhymes. So all of you out there, please be careful not to follow any of the suggestions in this dangerous poem.
There. And when you save your little brother or sister (or yourself) from dying because of this nursery rhyme, you can write me and thank me. I don’t mind. I won’t even ask for any payment for my medical advice.
As always, just tryin’ to help,
From Your Dude with the ‘Tude,
Who’s asking you, “Pretty please,
Stay away from rotten pease.”
Post #166 from Dr. Crankenfuss, The World’s Awesomest Raving and Rapping middle school blogger–
So it’s the new year and my New Year’s Resolution is not to be so geeky, ya know, like where I’m smart, but too shy so I don’t get any rewards for my good qualities. Believe it or not, I’m really not bad looking at all. “Yeah, right!” you say. “Look at that tobacco stain you call a face at the top left.” Well, that mug shot isn’t really that accurate. It’s kind of photoshopped up to make me look scrungier and meaner than I really am. It’s really a mask I hide behind. I really can be funny and make people laugh and I sometimes get in trouble with my teachers for my wisecracks, but I’m never flat out mean or anything. That gets me attention, but I don’t know where to go with it. I always play it too careful with girls. I mean I want them to like me and maybe a few do, but I’m too nervous to ask them out so guess what? I don’t have a girlfriend. Or anything you could call a date. What if I get up the nerve to actually get a girlfriend? I can see myself immediately saying or doing something stupid or rude and she’d swat me off like a horse swats a fly with its tail and go trotting on her merry way and I’d be lying face down, the fly left behind in some horse poop.
I know that’s a crummy attitude to have, but there you are. My fears are bigger than my wants. I know you can’t win a race unless you enter it first. I really do. I see other people with the guts to do it – for a bunch of them, it takes no effort at all, that’s how much confidence they have. That makes me feel even worse. Well, that’s my New Year’s resolution – to enter that race and not worry about being rejected.
It’s always much easier to settle in my Crankenfuss thing. That feels safe. Like throwing rocks from inside a fort. Maybe this’ll be the year I come out of that fort and throw out compliments instead of insults. I’ll see what happens (if I can do it). But I’ll still see things that bother me and tick me off, so there’s no way you won’t be seeing ol’ Crankenfuss at least once in a while. There still has to be someone to stand up to the stupid stuff and people in the world, doesn’t there?
So how can I keep the Crankenfuss thing going and have this other positive, confident guy living inside the same head? Will I lose some of my humor if I’m too “nice”? And how many questions can I ask myself before I bore myself (and you)?
Hey, I think I got it: LESS SHY, MORE FLY!
That has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
Well, no matter what you think,
thanks, and Happy New Year!