My wife just watched some jack version of The Twelve Days of Christmas. I was in the other room so I dunno what the running gags were, but it involved people shouting annoyingly between the different days. If you know the vid, please don’t post the link here. I may strangle myself.
By the end of the song I’d ground down my molars flatter than west Texas. I’d also realized that jack versions of TDoC generally suck. Hard. And I realized why. And the only solution I can come up with is that no one should ever make another jack version of that song. It’s a public annoyance. And an annoyance in the most unacceptable way; it’s the annoyance of someone who’s convinced that the song is mildly amusing and entertaining and that, since it’s Christmas time and it’s a Christmas song, that fact in and of itself will carry it.
“Hey,” they say to themselves, “it’s the TDoC which means all we have to do is come up with 12 jokes. Grab a random group of people, hand ‘em all a lyrics sheet and we’re good for 10 minutes of showtime. 15 minutes if we stretch it out.”
Here’s the problem with TDoC satires...
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Yah, you only need to come up with 12 jokes. But how many people do you know can come up with even 3 good jokes on any given topic? How many? Yah, I don’t know many, either. Most people I know couldn’t come up with 2 good ones. So, most of the jokes are lame. In most instances, ALL of the jokes are lame.
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Repetition. How many times do you have to repeat a lame joke before it becomes funny? Oh, that’s right... it doesn’t. In fact, the opposite happens. If someone repeats even a good joke a several times in a row, by the third time, at most, you stop laughing. By the fifth time, you want the idiot to stop and you probably will tell him so. Around the eighth repetition, you’d walk away from him in mid-sentence and tell your friends not to start up a conversation with the weirdo. And that’s if it were a good joke. With a bad joke, any good citizen would crush the idiot’s windpipe after the second time, just based on the possibility he may have gone for that third. I gotta tell you, hearing a lame joke for the first day sends my soul into a pit of despair blacker than my ex-wife’s heart. Because I know that I’m going to have to hear it eleven. More. Times.
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Five Golden Rings. This line is annoying even in the real version. Oh, I don’t mean the words themselves or even the way it’s supposed to be sung. It’s because of the way it is sung by
I’ve been living on the streets for a couple weeks now. Having recently turned 18, my parents decided to surprise me with the boot out the door. I think they were planning this since they found out I was gay a couple months ago. My fault was being stupid enough not to get a job and save up beforehand. I cared too much about my academics and focused most of my time on studying.
Guess that didn’t exactly pan out. My birthday was the day after graduation. I begged and pleaded and even offered to go to conversion therapy, but they didn’t budge. I came back home to the locks changed and my stuff packed in a suitcase. I had to unenroll from the university I was accepted to because I could no longer afford it. Even with loans and my scholarships, I couldn’t afford the rooming fees and my parents would no longer help me out with filling out anything.
I also lost all my friends when they found out about my sexuality so I couldn’t find a couch to crash on. Regardless, I had some money saved up from birthdays and holidays but that was quickly used up at motel stays. The towns around me were full of dying businesses and declining populations so I decided to use up the last of money and go to a nearby city.
I won’t go into details as to the exact location out of safety concerns. I guess it doesn’t matter because what’s happening here, is probably happening everywhere else.
The first day I arrived, I tried to look for jobs but who wants to hire a disheveled teenager. I didn’t have anything nice to wear for interviews. Besides, the cost of transportation and even hygiene upkeep was hard to maintain.
Essentially, I was screwed for the time being. Homeless shelters were all closed, or they only prioritized women.
I soon found myself in a homeless encampment. I couldn’t sleep anywhere else, the parks had security roaming and everywhere else, I would find myself being the victim of attacks or even people throwing shit at me for entertainment. I had enough pride not to beg though. I was sure I could find something soon.
I’m not sure how people wound up here, but it was a small makeshift settlement under a highway. Tall, rusted steel held up the highway, looming over our tents and garbage that we held onto as mementos as people whizzed by going off into their perfect little lives. It felt like we were stuck in a bubble, as time went on and people advanced, we just stood still stuck in this dreadful purgatory. There were even fences around the area, covered with b
... keep reading on reddit ➡
PART FOUR HUNDRED AND FORTY-ONE
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Thursday
By the time they pulled up out the front of the apartment, Lucas and Boyd had a plan. It was a half-assed plan at best, but it made a twisted sort of sense to them. They both agreed that everyone except Robbie would either be asleep or at the very least keeping out of Robbie’s way (with Sam and Llyr sticking close to their girls).
So, they would be subtle. Walk in hand in hand to give Robbie a visual of where things sat as a means of gently pre-empting the conversation. And out of everyone in the house, Robbie’s approval meant the most to them. That way they could bring Robbie into the fold and test the waters with him. Boyd may have been nervous, but there was no doubt in Lucas’ mind that Robbie would be over the moon for them. Maybe a touch mad at the big guy for lying to them all those years, but overall, happy that they were together.
From there, they could tell Charlotte and work their way out to everyone else.
“Oh, here,” Boyd said, reaching across Lucas to open the glove compartment.
Tossed amongst Lucas’ weapon and shield were two clear plastic packets of something. “You didn’t wake up in Harrisburg to eat them like you said you would, and I figured you wouldn’t want to leave them in the car for rats to find or something.” He handed Lucas the packets, each of which contained one plain cookie and one cream one.
Lucas stared at the cookies. He had a vague recollection about something to do with them, but he couldn’t quite place it. Or maybe he didn’t want to. “What did you take these for?”
Boyd looked affronted. “Are you kidding? You're the one who wouldn’t leave the motel without them, pal. You mentioned them on two separate occasions before dropping like a stone in the passenger seat. Don’t you remember?”
That … did kinda sound familiar.
“If I say no, can we agree to never mention it again?”
“Sure, but you’re never living down the part where you practically ran out of fuel last night. You had less than two p
... keep reading on reddit ➡TW: Mentions of child abuse
I wanted to do a write-up on this case because it happened very close to home, and I think Noah deserves to have his story told. It’s a long one, but I don’t want to leave anything out.
Noah Thomas McIntosh was 8 years old in March of 2019 when he went missing from his father’s apartment in the 4600 block of Temescal Canyon Rd in Corona, CA. Some sources will list his address as Temescal Valley Rd, but that is incorrect. Corona is a city in Riverside County, about 50 miles outside of Los Angeles. It has a population of about 160,000 people. It shares its southwest border with Cleveland National Forest, but much of the area directly to its southeast is remote and unincorporated – this becomes slightly important later on.
There are some inconsistencies regarding when exactly Noah was last seen. His mother says she last saw him on March 2, but Noah’s sister, Chloe, says he went missing on March 10. The Charley Project has his date of disappearance listed as March 6, 2019. Noah’s mother, Jillian Godfrey, originally stated that she last saw Noah on March 4, after dropping him off at his father’s house. She claims that Noah’s father, Bryce McIntosh, texted her on March 8, claiming that Noah had been missing for 2 days and that he had it under control and would ‘’take care of it’’. This prompted Godfrey to call Riverside County Department of Public Social Services (DPSS) on March 12 to ask if they could conduct a welfare check on her son.
The following day, on March 13, a search warrant for Bryce’s home was issued and a SWAT team was sent to the apartment. Officers found Bryce, as well as Noah’s sister, but there was no sign of Noah. Handcuffs, zip-ties, schoolwork with ‘Noah M’ written on it, and several stained yellow towels were found in the home. Bryce’s car was also searched, where authorities found folded blankets and purple latex gloves.
Detectives spoke with Noah’s mother after the search, and she changed her original story. She claimed that she was actually staying at Bryce’s apartment from March 1 to March 3 and that she had last seen Noah on March 2, not March 4, when Bryce took the boy into the bathroom. She says when she left on March 3, Noah had still not come out of the bathroom. When asked why she left the apartment, she said Bryce told her he had to go to Home Depot. Surveillance footage from the store showed Bryce purchasing four gallons of muriatic acid, a bottle of drain cleaner, long gloves, a
... keep reading on reddit ➡Phil
Go post NSFW jokes somewhere else. If I can't tell my kids this joke, then it is not a DAD JOKE.
If you feel it's appropriate to share NSFW jokes with your kids, that's on you. But a real, true dad joke should work for anyone's kid.
Mods... If you exist... Please, stop this madness. Rule #6 should simply not allow NSFW or (wtf) NSFL tags. Also, remember that MINORS browse this subreddit too? Why put that in rule #6, then allow NSFW???
Please consider changing rule #6. I love this sub, but the recent influx of NSFW tagged posts that get all the upvotes, just seem wrong when there are good solid DAD jokes being overlooked because of them.
Thank you,
A Dad.
Sudden Lee
