A Few Ground Rules...

When I say "Ground rules" I mean it in the sense of "Basic procedures of conduct," not in the sense of "here are some rules, which I have ground up." Just so we're clear.

Wombat's 3 Rules of comedy:

1: Anything coming out of an ass is funny. This one should be no surprise to anyone who has read this blog before, but it's true. For some reason any object or substance or noise coming from an ass is instantly imbued with an extra dose of funny. The same does not hold true for things going in an ass. Some of those things are funny, but some are not. In the case of ass-entry, it really depends on the object. But ass-exit? Always funny.

2: If they're laughing at you, they're still laughing. I'm a big believer in the idea that the laugh is something you should willingly sacrifice yourself for. Who cares if they're laughing with you because you're so fucking hilarious, or at you because you're so fucking stupid. You're still making them laugh, and that is a service to humanity. Good news for all of you dumb motherfuckers out there.

3: Never insult someone directly unless you're pretty sure they can take it. This may come as a shock to insult comedians everywhere, but I just don't think attacking people is funny. Making fun of people who don't know you're making fun of them is one thing, but I'd never walk up to someone and shred them to their face because I just don't think it's funny to make someone feel bad. If you get off on that then you are a waste of skin. However, if the person in question is a bud, and you know that they get that you are just busting their balls, then have at it. In fact, I'll go so far as to say that people who can take getting shredded and dish it back out are my favorite people in the world.

Note: Some of you who've known me for a while may notice that the monkey rule is gone. Monkeys are cliche. I was wrong about the monkeys. Monkeys are no longer funny. Unless they're coming out of your ass. (see rule #1)

Wombat's Spoon Rule:

There is a strict heirarchy when it comes to the use of spoons. Spoons meant for eating and not for mixing generally come in three sizes: The large "soup" spoon, the small "tea" spoon, and the tiny spoon you sometimes see in fancy restaurants. Pay attention.

- Ice cream should always be eaten with the tea spoon. You do not want to eat ice cream in giant "soup spoon" bites. You want to take your time and enjoy the ice cream. Unless you take so much time that your ice cream melts. If this happens either your spoon is too small or you are retarded. Yogurt? Same rule applies.

- Soup should always be eaten with (no surprise here) the soup spoon. The same applies to cereal. When your job is basically to fish little tiny floating corn flakes out of a sea of milk, you need a wide net. Anyone eating cereal with a teaspoon should have their head examined. And by "examined," I mean "run over by a truck."

- If you find yourself eating with one of those tiny spoons, immediately stick it up your ass. That's the only thing I can think of that the tiny spoon is good for. This would also be one of the instances where something going in your ass is funny. When the spoon comes back out? priceless.

- There is only one food item you are allowed to eat with a mixing spoon: Mashed Potatoes.

Wombat's Straw Rule:

If you are drinking a milkshake, or even better, chocolate milk, (or even better, chocolate malted milk!) You must use a bendy straw. I keep a box of bendy straws around for exactly these occasions. If at all possible, the bendy straw in question should be the kind with the red and blue stripes running up its length. A solid-color bendy straw may be used only if no striped bendy straw is available. Non-bendy straws are out of the question. Why? If you are going to drink a kid's drink, then drink it like a kid, for fuck's sake. And don't give me that crap about your milkshake being too thick to drink through a straw. Quit being a huge pussy and put some effort into it.

Wombat's Movie Food Rule:

Just because the modern movie megaplex now sells nachos and hot dogs and seven-course French meals, it doesn't mean you have to order them. Eat dinner before the film, or eat dinner after the film. Do not subject the people around you to the horrifying stink of your batter-dipped hot dogs or your tub of melted cheese. The movie theater is like a giant elevator: We are all trapped in here together until the ride's over. Smelly food has no place in a theater. The one exception is popcorn, which, while admittedly smelly, has kind of become part of the theater experience. It's tradition. You expect to smell popcorn. You don't expect to smell rib dinner and falafel.

A good rule of thumb is, if your order requires one of those red plastic trays, eat it in the lobby.

Wombat's American Apostrophe Wake-up rule:

Listen up, America: You have exactly one year to learn how to use the apostrophe correctly. That should be enough time for everyone to get the hang of what's a contraction, what's possessive and what's plural. After one year, I am hereby allowed to beat you to death with an 18" green rubber dildo if you write that you are serving "pear's" on your menu.

The single exception to this rule is when using the word "it." I know proper time to apostrophize "it," and you should too, but I'll admit that shit can confuse you. Because it runs (not run's) counter to the usual way of doing a possessive. If you use "it's" incorrectly, you get a pass. No dildo-beating.

Wombat's Washing Your Hands After Peeing Rule:

Here comes the one where I alienate all the women and half of the men. Guys, you do not have to wash your hands after you pee, provided you have not peed on your hands.

I tried to explain to Sal that there is no need for washing if your hands are not actually urine-soaked, and her response was "yeah, but you touched your penis." Ladies, some of you seem to be laboring under the false premise that our penises are these horrid, feces-caked garbage sticks. I'd like to go on record as stating that I wash myself regularly, and that when I wash myself, I wash my penis right along with the rest of me. I then place my penis safely inside some nice clean underwear. The underwear then goes inside of some pants. There my penis spends the large majority of the day, riding around inside layers of cotton and denim, fully separated from the horrors of the outside world. My penis is probably the cleanest part of my body. If anything, when I pee, my penis should be upset that my filthy hands have touched it.

So gentlemen, as long as you don't have terrible aim, or don't understand how to properly use your equipment, you do not need to wash your hands. If you take a dump, then by all means, please wash them, but not when you pee.

Ladies, I have no rule for when you pee, because whatever it is that goes on inside of the ladies bathroom is a divine and unknowable mystery to me. There may be flocks of angels. Maybe they wash your hands. I'm in the dark on this one.