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Freak Speak, Uncategorized

You want to go on a plane trip? Fine, you can have the one I just suffered through.

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Humor Post #69 from the world’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Middle School Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s been way too long since I posted last, but it’s not my fault, really it’s not. Daniel hasn’t put up anything I’ve sent him because he says he’s too busy writing Moose stuff. Moose stuff? What in the world? Since when are moose more important that Dr. Crankenfuss? Anyway, I’ve sent him three posts and he says he’ll get them up this week. “Just give me time,” he says. Yeah, well, it’s time already.

Okay, here goes. Now I know it says Humor Post #69 up at the top, but there’s no humor in this post. Only justified rage. (See picture at above left.) Yep, that’s how I felt after my 3-day trip to New York City. The trip itself was great. We were visiting my cousin in Brooklyn and I had a good time. She’s way too cool. Went up the Empire State Building, visited the Statue of Liberty, and best of all, went to a Yankees game! But that’s the good stuff. I’m here to rant. And I have good reason to after those plane trips.

Like on the way up, they treated my mom like she was a hijacker or something. She had just bought a big bottle of aerosol sunscreen and the security people confiscated it because it was over 4 ounces or something like that. $12 down the toilet. Boy, was she mad. If she had brought a suitcase along, she could have packed it there, but all we had were overnight bags because we didn’t want to get stuck with a $50 charge for two suitcases. So we had to cram everything into something that would fit in the overhead lockers.

Except for that, the trip was okay. The trip from Raleigh to NYC, that is.

New York City, as I said, was fun and great. But that’s not what this post is about. It’s about the Hades we lived through on the way back. See, we got to the airport around 4:00 for a 5:30 flight just to make sure nothing wrong would happen. Yeah, like that helped. The boarding went okay. We were on American Airlines. Then we got ready to take off. We’re like seventh in line and then they send us back to where we started. The pilot came on and said because there was a thunderstorm in Raleigh, we had to wait. So we did wait in that plane, which was starting to get stale, you know. After another half hour or so, they made up get off the plane. Crap! Well, storms in Raleigh usually don’t last very long. We’d only have to wait a while, Mom said. We trudged back into the airport, sat there 10 minutes and an announcement came on and told us to call an 800 number to make new arrangements. They wouldn’t help us where we were; we had to do it ourselves. So Mom called and they gave her all sorts of stupid advice, like “You can take a plane from Kennedy Airport that’s leaving in 20 minutes.” Yeah, except we were at LaGuardia. How were we supposed to get to another airport in that time? Then they tell her there’s a US Air flight leaving in another part of the airport in a little while. So we rush all over the place — that airport is HUGE — to get there and find out when we do get there that we’re too late. All that trouble for nothing. And the US Air people tell us we could have stayed back at American because they had flight leaving at 9:30. Hey, American never told us that! If we hadn’t listened to their advice to go over to US Air, we could have gotten seats on the 9:30 plane. So we go all the way back to American and guess what. Now that’s plane’s sold out, that’s what. So now we’re tired, mad, and hungry. And still in New York.

Long story, right? Okay, the ending is we never got on any flight that night and we had to go all the way back to Brooklyn to stay with our cousin and we had to come back the next morning to FINALLY get a flight to Raleigh. Seemed like half our trip was spent in the airport.

My Grandpa says when he was a kid, flying was fun. They gave you good food and you didn’t even have to pay $6 or $10 or whatever it is they charge now. It came free with your ticket. Wow, what a concept. All I know is next time, we might think about walking to New York. Yeah, we could take our car, but you know what they charge for parking in New York? I could go to college for that.

So Crankenfuss has a warning for all you out there. Just be happy where you are and make all your relatives visit YOU. Or, you can just be incredibly rich, have your own plane, and just jet around to your heart’s delight.

Easy enough. I should have thought of that back before my trip.

Anyway, talk to you very soon again (if Daniel gets his head out of that moose mess he’s in).

from Dr. Crankenfuss,
Your Dude with the Tude

Freak Speak, Uncategorized

Dude, think you can do 6th grade algebra? I don’t think so.

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Humor Post #45 from the world’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Middle School Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

So we’re starting to get ready for our EOG’s (End-of-Grade) tests, these standardized things where you fill in the bubbles and they tell you if it’s worth it for you to be alive. Well okay, it’s not that bad, but these things are supposed to be important. So our math teacher has been giving us review problems to get us ready. I showed a couple of them to my mom and she told me she had no clue how to do them. Hah, one more way I’m better than her. (No, don’t go tell her that. She’ll kill me. Hey Mom, it was a joke. Oh no, not with the shovel!! A-h-h-h!!)

Anyway, I got the idea to test you guys out in this. I’m going to give you five Algebra problems our teacher gave us with four choices for each. Figure them out, make your selections, then click on the answer link to get the answers. I’d say “No cheating,” but I know a lot of you will. After all, who wants to admit they can’t do sixth grade math.

BTW, these are not advanced Algebra questions. They were for all the sixth graders to do.

1. The cost of a school banquet is $75 + 30n, where n is the number of people attending. What is the cost for 53 people?
a. $1,590
b. $4,005
c. $1,665
d. $158

2. To find the gasoline economy figure for a car in miles per gallon (mpg), you can use the expression d ÷ g, where d represents the distance traveled by the car, and g represents the number of gallons of gasoline used. Find the gasoline economy figure for a car that travels 200 miles on 5 gallons of gasoline.
a. 205 mpg
b. 40 mpg
c. 25 mpg
d. 38 mpg

3. During a canned food drive, Bob collected 6 times as many cans as Tom. If t represents the number of cans that Tom collected, which algebraic expression represents the number of cans that Bob collected?
a. 6t
b. 7t
c. 6 + t
d. 7 + t

4. Mike is 2 inches more than two times as tall as his younger brother Jake. If Jake is h inches tall, which expression describes Mike’s height?
a. 2(h – 2)
b. 2(h + 2)
c. 2h + 2
d. 2h – 2

5. Solve the equation: 2.2 = z ÷ 57
a. 62.7
b. 125.4
c. 59.2
d. 54.8

Ooh, I bet you aced it, huh? Click here to find out the correct answers.

Freak Speak, Uncategorized

I don’t want to be a planet. I want to be THE SUN!

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Humor Post #38 from Middle School’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

Woo-hoo! Anybody see that shot by Austin Rivers to beat UNC last night? Yeah, I guess a couple million people did cause that’s all they were talking about on Sports Center afterwards. Yeah, I’m a Duke fan. Have to be since Daniel is, and without him I don’t get to post here. But I’m not really that happy for me. Hey, it wasn’t me who made that shot. And it wasn’t me who won the game. Actually it wasn’t even the school who won. I didn’t see any buildings playing out there. Yeah, I guess Duke got all those guys to come to Duke so officially Duke won, but I’d still rather be one of the Duke players or especially Austin Rivers after that game. He’s the one who did it, not the fans, not Duke, just him and his team.

Yeah, just like I said about David Freese of the St. Louis Cardinals way back in October, I think it would be SO COOL to be a sports hero and have everyone jumping up and down over whatever it is I did. I can’t even imagine how good that must feel. But I’d sure like to find out.

See, the deal is Austin Rivers gets to remember making that big shot the rest of his life and even if I remember the same thing, I’ll be remembering someone else being the hero. Ya know, I’d rather be thinking about myself making that shot, being the hero in some way. Wasn’t it more fun for the New York Giants in that Super Bowl parade than it was for all the people cheering for them? That’s why I’ll keep working to be somebody so people might remember me too. Don’t know what it’ll be yet. Much as I hate to admit it, it probably won’t be sports or I’d already be a star at something. (Though I can always hope. Gotta keep working on that cross dribble.) And it probably won’t be at hip hop, cause even though I think I can write pretty good stuff, I think I’m — sorry to say — at a racial disadvantage in that career. (Again, I can hope and if I keep working, maybe Usher will notice me like he did Justin Bieber. I know lots of people hate JB, but Usher thinks he’s cool and he knows a lot.)

Somewhere I heard that you can divide everybody into two groups: the 10% that are the movers and the shakers, the people everybody else follows and goes ga-ga over. The other 90% are like the fans that cheer for Duke or Carolina. Nothing the matter with them, nothing at all. A great bunch of people, I’m sure. (Well, most of them anyway.) It’s just that they’re not the ones making the shots. I wanna be the guy making that big shot.

It’s like the way the Universe is all set up. There’s gabillions of planets revolving around a bunch of suns. The planets are like all those fans out there. The suns are like the stars that the planets follow around. I wanna be a sun, not one of the planets. You ever notice that the Sun is so cool, it doesn’t even have a name, like all the planets have. It’s just THE SUN. Like “I don’t even need a name, dude. You know who I am.” How cool is that?

Now I have only one thing left to figure out — how am I gonna be that sun?

from your “still waiting to reach his potential” dude with the ‘tude,
Dr. Crankenfuss

Freak Speak, Uncategorized

Tennis players and golfers must be wussies

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Humor Post #35 from Middle School’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

So I couldn’t sleep Thursday night and I wake up at like 3 AM and turn on my TV. Not much to see at that hour unless you’re interested in infomercials for football-shaped coffins with your favorite team’s colors and logos plastered all over them, which was pretty funny for awhile, but then it was just kind of pathetic, you know. It was enough to make me go back to sleep. Almost. Then I saw that the Australian Open was on. And there was this great match between Andy Murray (whose name I can spell) and Novak Djokavic (whose name I can’t spell). And even though there were some great shots and stuff the main thing that got to me was every time they were ready to serve, the crowd got real quiet and if there was the least little bit of noise, the announcer would come on and say, “Quiet, please” and everyone would shut up even more. And I thought to myself, “Crankenfuss, it sure seems like those players are pretty sensitive. They can’t take any noise? Any noise at all?” I couldn’t think of any other sport like that, unless you count the National Spelling Bee as a sport. Then I did. Golf! Yeah, I remember one time — though I can’t remember where — they kicked this guy off the course for taking a picture during a big putt or maybe he just yelled something like “In da hole!” Anyway, I remember the TV announcers talking about how rude and crude that spectator was and how he didn’t have any respect for the game.

Please don't breathe too loud or this guy will collapse.

Huh?

What about most every other sport? I like to watch pro football and basketball and most of the time I’m sure the players can hardly hear anything, the crowd is so loud. Yeah, when the home team guy is shooting a foul shot, the crowd gets quiet, but when it’s the other team, the crowd goes nuts, waving their arms, probably yelling stuff about the foul shooter’s mama, and generally acting like maniacs. How come the announcers don’t talk about those fans’ disrespect for the game? In baseball I don’t see how the pitcher can concentrate on anything with the crowd so out of control.

Is this how a tennis player responds to a cheer during his serve?

So I have one question about all this? How come tennis players and golfers are such wussies? Why don’t they just go ahead and play like every other person on a sports team? Maybe they should get their mommies out there to tell them to do their best. (But not while they’re putting or serving, of course. That would be rude.) Just askin’.

I mean, when I write my posts, I never do it in quiet. I have the TV on or the radio or the stereo or something. And on top of that, I have all those voices in my head that keep me from concentrating. So if I can do it, so can those tennis and golf superstars. Time to suck it up, gentlemen (and ladies). Get with the program. Bring on the noise.

from the Dude with the ‘tude, your truth teller and blogger supremo,
Dr. Crankenfuss

P.S. And yes, I did get back to sleep. Thank you for asking. It’s hard for me to get excited about much anything at 3:00 in the morning. I think I lasted probably 20 minutes.

Freak Speak, Uncategorized

A New & Improved Crankenfuss? NOT!!

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Humor Post #29 from Middle School’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog (and probably the awesomest YA blog too) –

Well, not to sound like all those Twitterheads who let everyone know what they’re having for lunch or whether they need to go to the bathroom, Dr. Crankenfuss was in the grocery store yesterday. And Crankenfuss discovered something interesting. He saw six — count ’em, six — products that had “New and Improved” written on them. And he didn’t even try very hard to find them. It’s just that their announcements were in such bold print he couldn’t miss them.

So Crankenfuss decided seven can play that game. He went home and within half an hour he had these two new prototypes for his brand. Pretty cool, huh? (Note: If you can’t see them yet, you need to look down. No, no, not down at the floor. Down this page.)

But then Crankenfuss started thinking. Always a fascinating (and scary) activity especially if you have all those secret passages and cobwebs in your head like Crankenfuss does. And he thought, Why did that clothes detergent (or whatever) need to be improved? What was it like before? And Crankenfuss, utilizing that muscular noodle of his, came up with the logical answer. Well, before, it must have sucked. That’s why it needed newing and improving. After all, improvement is one thing. But “New and Improved” sounds like they totally got rid of the old way it was — the old sucky, useless way it was, the old this-thing-should-be-shot-for-its-own-good way it was. For detergent, that probably meant it didn’t clean clothes too well. After all, clothes can turn out only one of two ways: clean or not clean. And not clean basically means kinda dirty, doesn’t it?

After all that thinking, Crankenfuss decided to ixnay his new “New and Improved” label. I don’t need a new me, he thought. My crank is just right. And you can trust my fuss. But Crankenfuss still wanted to improve his brand, you know, so he came up with the perfect solution. Take a look below to see the realest and most accurate description of the Dr. Crankenfuss who’ll be at your service in the future.
From your humble and awesome progenitor of 21st century thinking,
Dr. Crankenfuss
P.S. You impressed by that cool word in the closing? So am I.