Tag Archives: cranky

No, no! Sign ME up!

Post #7 from Kidlit’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog–

Hey, I’m not much of a 60 Minutes watcher — let’s face it, the youngest dude on that show can barely remember age 50 — but my Mom is and she was sad because their old commentator — and I do mean old, he was like 92 — died last week. His name was Andy Rooney and he was known for complaining all the time.

Remind you of anyone?

My Mom showed me this article from Patch.com by Michel Salt Horn to make that point. I’ll quote from the part that matters.

We’ll miss American’s favorite curmudgeon… 60 Minutes’ resident kvetch Andy Rooney died on Friday. He was 92 and worked right up until the end. He had one of the best and longest running jobs on television – or anywhere. He got paid for being perpetually perturbed, and he complained about almost everything.

Paid for being cranky? I’m actually qualified for this – sign me up!

EGGZAKLY!! (Now don’t go all emo on me and say I don’t know how to spell. That was intentional, dudes.) But you got the wrong guy in mind, Ms. Horn. It’s not you! I be da man for dis job!

So get in line, Ms. Horn. I think I’m probably more qualified than you since I’ve been told (many times) that I was a colicky baby so I’ve been kvetching — now that’s a cool word. I had to look it up. — since the day I was born. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. Besides, I bet you couldn’t grow eyebrows like Mr. Rooney had. Like dude, ever hear of scissors? Or lawn mowers? You could’ve done ads for Miracle-Gro.

Anyway, I’m gonna do some research on YouTube about this Andy Rooney. If I find some really good rants, I’ll pass them on. He’ll probably get me more PO’d than usual. If that’s possible.

Too Much of a Bad Thing

Post #6 from Kidlit’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog–

Okay, I’m in the middle of doing my Math homework. It’s pre-Algebra and it’s not that hard. Stuff like 3X – 15 = 60. (I can do ones like this in my head. It’s 25.) Now some are a bit harder, but nothing ol’ Crankenfuss can’t handle. Ha, but here’s the rub (whatever that means. We had it some Shakespeare piece we had to do.) Our teacher, who shall remain nameless here so I won’t get sued or anything — but you know who you are, don’t you, Mr. __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ ? — gave us 25 problems to do. THAT MAKES NO SENSE, DUDE! In my case, I get it, so why make me do 25 of them to prove it. Wouldn’t five or six be enough to show you what I can do? And what about those guys who don’t get it? Why give them 25? So they can miss all of them? Not so good for that old self-esteem, is it? Again, if they miss three out of three, even you would be able to figure out they need some extra help. So, lissen up, you mean Mr. Math teacher. Use that old noodle — and I DO mean old — and start doing the right thing. Don’t give us 25 problems when five makes W-A-A-A-A-Y more sense.

From your would-be and should-be adviser (if you can handle the truth),
Dr. Crankenfuss

It Would Be So Cool…

Post #5 from Kidlit’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog–

WARNING: The following post does not even contain a complaint. Yeah, I know that’s kind of hard to believe, coming from Crankenfuss and all, but I was watching the World Series a few days ago and I got to thinking. “Uh, oh,” you’re saying, “when Crankenfuss gets to thinking, we better get out the anti-diarrhea medicine.” No, no, I’m serious. I saw this guy on St. Louis — David Freese — and he grew up in St. Louis and always cheered for his team the Cardinals and now he was playing in the World Series for that same team. How cool is that! But it gets even better. He got two huge hits in the sixth game and and the second one was a home run that won the game for the Cards. Ooh, it can’t get any better than that, can it? But it did. In the seventh game, he got another monster hit that started the Cards off to winning the whole World Series. I mean, here’s a guy that grew up just like you and me. He used to be in middle school, too, and probably got in trouble with the teachers just like you and me do. (Well, me anyway.) And now he’s like super-famous and he won a Corvette for being the MVP in the Series and everyone (at least in St. Louis) loves the guy and all the baby boys — and maybe some of the girls — born in Missouri for the next year will probably be named David Freese Freebenhauser (or whatever last name the little guys happen to have).

Is that ever a dream come true or what? And it really happens to people, at least some of them. “Why not me?” I was dreaming. Well, unless I get way, way better in sports, it won’t happen like that. I’m not even good enough to make my school team. Not yet anyway. It could still happen though. You never know. Right now it looks like my best shot is something to do with computers — like Steve Jobs — since I’m pretty good with them. Or maybe I could be a comedian ’cause I can make people laugh sometimes — and not because I’m funny looking, bone brain — and if I write some good jokes and get on YouTube and the video goes viral someone might invite me on their tv show. And then some director might happen to be watching that day and he sees me and puts me in his movie. It does happen, you know.

So excuse me while I try to remember some of my best jokes and start writing them down. But the only thing I can think of right now is that stupid chicken joke. That sure won’t work. Let’s see…

Why did the blond chicken cross the road?

What’s a road?

This saying STINKS

Post #3 from Kidlit’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog–

There’s one phrase that people use all the time that annoys the heck out of me. Actually there are a lot of phrases that bother me, including “Get lost, Crankenfuss, you dweeb.” That one’s a bit bothersome, I admit, but I’m talking about a different one. Suppose I go up to someone and just wanna know how they think about something, and I ask a question like, “Hey, you think the Cowboys are going to the Super Bowl this year?” Simple enough, no? I’m not putting them on trial, am I? So the guy answers, “Well, to be honest, I don’t think so.” Now why he’d have to go and say, “to be honest”? Wouldn’t I expect someone answering a simple question to be honest? As opposed to what? Lying through his grody teeth, like he usually does? I mean, if I ask, “Hey, what time is it?”, I don’t expect an answer like, “Well, to be honest with you, it’s two thirty.” I just don’t get it.

I see people on television talking like that all the time. Politicians, movie stars, tv chefs. My mom even says stuff like, “Frankly” or “Honestly” or “If you want my real opinion.” Why would I want your false opinion, Mom? Just sayin’. Honestly.

About that chicken

Post #2 from Kidlit’s Crankiest Curmudgeon’s Blog–

I don’t know if this is possible, but isn’t it time they retired the “Why’d the chicken cross the road?” joke? Maybe even give it a nice burial or something. I know you almost never hear it, except yesterday my next door neighbor – she’s six – told it to me. Gag! And I had to act like it was funny cause her mom was standing there. Who came up with this joke anyway? People – mainly old people – are always telling you how things were different when they grew up, how you didn’t have to lock your doors, how people had more respect for each other and so on. Yeah, yeah, yeah! Well, it wasn’t my generation that invented that stupid chicken joke. I mean, has anyone ever laughed at it? I asked my dad was there something I was missing and he said it was supposed to be clever because the answer is so obvious and you’re racking your brain trying to come up with a funny answer. Which it doesn’t have. So I asked him, “What’s green and needs mowing?” “Grass,” he says. Neither one of us laughed.

Exactly.

So let’s keep chickens out of jokes and put them where they belong – on our plates.

(Though I have to admit – rubber chickens can be pretty funny.)