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The Official Memphis Position on Snow and Ice

When I first moved to Memphis I realized right away that locals and motor vehicles shouldn’t be allowed to mix.

Even under the best of conditions they form unstable compounds, traveling in erratic, unpredictable trajectories which, in some unexplained quantum-mechanical fashion, are able to occupy all possibly lanes of traffic simultaneously, at least until interacting violently with similar neighboring compounds.

The only know method of intensifying this chaotic reaction is to add precipitation.

Brent Diggs demonstrating the Memphis cold weather response

Your author practicing the suggested Memphis cold weather response

When introduced to the greater metropolitan area, rain is enough to cause spontaneous formations of rapidly bonded steel to accumulate on freeways and intersections throughout the region.

With the addition of snow, there ensues a cascade reaction of such severity that only the most intrepid researcher would travel outside his or her immediate neighborhood.

Bottom line: When traveling to Memphis this holiday season, leave your snow at home.

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Droll Humor?

Recently I was accused of being droll.

Not this blog mind you, or even the various characters and personas I have populated it with, but me, my very own personal self.

Droll.

Brent Diggs offers up a droll facial expression

If there is anything that gets my dander up and marching around,1 it’s being labeled with terms so offensive, so clearly and blatantly derogatory that even I don’t know what they mean.

So in spite of strict vows intellectual pacifism, I undertook the most strenuous research methods at my disposal to fathom the enigmatic mystery known as droll.

After several second of diligent mousework I wiped the sweat from my wrist and basked in the glow of discovery.2 After a brief post-investigative nap, I read through the symptoms as presented by the vocabulary professionals of Dictionary.com:

Drolladjective. amusing in an odd way; whimsical; waggish.

Could it be? Was it possible that The Ominous Comma and myself its erstwhile creator were in fact suffering from the insidious effects of droll humor?

So severe were the consequences of this implication that I sought out a second opinion, and after a couple more clicks of grueling research the lexiconary specialists at Wikipedia confirmed the diagnosis:

Droll Humor -an often dry, witty form of humor that elicits laughs through amusingly odd, sometimes zany behavior or speech.

They those same experts went to on to illustrate the sufferings of well known victims like Steven Wright and John Cleese, never once hinting at a cure.

I was stunned. I didn’t know how to live with such self-knowledge, or myself after having discovered it. My only hope lay with the experimental psychological research of the late Doctor Harold Toboggans3whose cutting-edge Third Person Repressionary Hypnosis therapy I hoped would give me my one shot at pulling through this crisis without permanent damage.

Snatching at the fragments of memory, I hastily assembled my best approximation of the Doctor’s radical self-programming technique.

I helped myself to several cleansing breaths and a shot of scrubbing bubbles. Then as I gazed convincingly into the mirror, I began the chant:

“Brent Diggs has droll humor – Brent Diggs is droll.”

The moral of the story I began to realize–

“Brent Diggs has droll humor – Brent Diggs is droll.”

Is that any time you set out upon a voyage of self discovery-

“Brent Diggs has droll humor – Brent Diggs is droll.”

Be sure to thoroughly check your itinerary.

“Brent Diggs is…”

—–

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  1. After years of clinical research it is still unclear what role dander plays in the rageification process, but experts agree that it should definitely get top billing.
  2. For extended basking I recommend Toboggans Industries Discovery Screen made with actual pieces of ignorance to filter and protect your delicate tissues from the ravages of eureka-band radiation.
  3. I don’t know for sure that he is dead, but whatever state he’s in, he is very, very tardy to several counseling appointments.

Little Known Ways to Get Your Spouse to Attend Your Anniversary*

Astute readers will note that precisely one year ago today I celebrated the Anniversary of my marriage to Camille, the Hot Comma Momma upon these shimmering pages.

As you may recall, the related festivities were made somewhat challenging not only by her lack of attendance at the actual event, but also by her complete absence from the country.

Yes, while my errant spouse was going native in the steamy jungles of Costa Rica, the Comma Community held a monitor-light vigil in her honor, filling comment-box after comment-box with well wishes, congratulations, and self-pitying cries of loneliness.

Of course that last part came mostly from me, but unless you are an extortionist, armed felon, or possibly a senator, you can really only give what you have.

But as I vowed last year, things have changed. This year my beloved traveler is in country, in house, and if I do say so myself, fairly well in hand.

“What you are experiencing now is the Kung-Fu spinal grip. Between it and the forcefield, you won’t be going anywhere.”

Of course my squad of corporate ninjas is on full alert in case she attempts another getaway, but all in all I feel pretty confident that my bride and I shall make it through the evening in the charming company of each other.

Furthermore, let me add that- Wait. That sounded suspiciously like the front door.

I have to go now and kick in the emergency boost generator for the Toboggans Industries Electromagnetic Spouse Containment Field, but while I’m gone feel free to commiserate…congratulate the HCM on nineteen lucky years with Your Author.

—–

*Alright, for those of you who insist upon an actual list, here are the Little Known Ways: ninjas, tranquilizers, superglue, and linebackers blocking every exit.

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Powersaw Poetry – A Toothsome Tale of Love

With my last foray into Quasi-Shakespearean Home Maintenance Verse having done so much to raise the cultural density of this otherwise highly penetrable site, my first thought upon completing my latest household chore was of course: “There must be someone who would have done this for $8 an hour.”

My second thought was to celebrate my victory over domestic labor in bold Bard-worthy form.

This would be that second thought:

Ode To An Inconveniently Tall Stump Upon The Eve Of My Beloved Wife’s Return From Her Travels

When e’er I see with mine two eyes
My home’s most redneck state
And find no beauty there within
Due to my absent mate

My Wife is Missing - Again

Note the missing wife and present tree. Foreshadowing is in the forecast

Far wanders my frail and lonely mind
To times more graced with bliss
And dawns the thought ‘fore her return
I might should look at her list

Laundry Day

Don’t worry Love, your list is at the top of my list…somewhere

First task upon that urgent note:
Lay low the former tree
Whose carcass yet was still too high
To display floral-try1

Overly tall tree stump

If you really wanted flowers out here, a step ladder would be no obstacle

So filled with might and much Motrin
I lumbered to the task
And forceful laid into said stump
With loves enduring axe2

love-vs-experience

Love endures a bit longer with 46cc of internal combustion backing it up

A might battle thus ensued
One wracked with many harms
And glad was I when last I won
To have still all my arms

Tree Diarrhea

I’m no botanist but I don’t think trees are suppose to have diarrhea

Though many a more and mighty deed
Were made complete by me
That tale shall test another day
Your love for poetry

Bouquet for a fallen foe

Camille was right: this is a vast improvement

  1. Important safety note – Never debate the differences between acceptable rhymes and cheesy word tricks with a poet still holding a chainsaw.
  2. Love’s Enduring Axe – Now that’s a title for a romance film. Overly sentimental, yet filled with the unavoidable bouquet of honest manly labor.

Nightlife

I entered the establishment off a crowded thoroughfare. The place was dark, only the occasional splash of illumination painting the stark white walls. The scent of teenage aftershave mingled freely through the sparse crowd.

Humor Noir - a first at the Comma

Music, blunt and pulsating, saturated the air like a rhythmic fog, filling every breath, every pore, with barometric waves of insistence.

Its beat was warm and relentless as it slowly worked its way down my spine, following the tangled trajectory of my nervous system.

Imperceptibly at first, I started to twitch and then to sway in an unsettling approximation of rhythm, every moment abandoning myself further to the sound’s harsh demands.

Soon I began to embrace my inner dancer, earnestly shaking what my mother had passed on to me. That’s when I heard it, the strident sound of reality calling from some distant area code.

“Dad! What are you doing?! This is a store. You’re supposed to buy things here.”

Chastened, yet still not free of the music’s hypnotic grasp I stumbled toward the exit, pausing to check a few price tags as a cover for my retreat. I had to squint to make out the numbers in the darkness, but eventually discerned their message. Sticker shock did more than any number of offended offspring to restore me from my senses and propel me to the safety of the waiting mall.

Later, despite the urging of my immediate family, my lawyers assured me that a formal apology would not be required. Nonetheless I have decided to issue the following statement:

“Owners, manager, and employees of Hollister, Inc, have no fear. No matter what the current economic uncertainty holds for you and your overpriced garments, if times get tough be assured that you can always fall back on the nightclub trade.”

-Happy Tuesday.

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Humor-blogs.com will be happy to take you to the mall. Alltop.com will even buy you an Orange Julius.