tag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:/blogs/essays?p=1Essays2024-03-10T17:58:14-12:00jeffthefundude.comfalsetag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274652016-02-02T12:00:00-12:002024-01-11T18:06:37-12:00Public Offender
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/3a8bf2f6e38b073b065366d77aef06062160351d/original/you-find-it-offensive.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjU2eDE3OSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="179" width="256" /></p>
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<p>As both a stand-up comedian and comedy club manager, I often get complaints from audience members who are “offended” by something I or one of our Punchliner headliners have said onstage. But if you ask me, getting offended by stand-up comedy is like getting burned by the sun: both are easily avoidable. All it takes is a little sunscreen and maturity. Before you go to the beach, lather up; before you go to an R-rated comedy show, <em>grow</em> up. (Or at least do a little research about the comedian you’re about to see.) Whether you walk into one of our adults-only comedy shows beet-red from the sun or leave it beet-red from indignation, my response will be the same: “Well, what did you <em>think</em> was going to happen, you freckled @#$% ?” (See? I purposely censored myself so as not to offend you.)</p>
<p>Although I don’t enjoy offending people, I have little empathy for people who claim to be offended by the words, ideas or opinions of others. In my opinion, being offended is not a <em>real thing</em>. It’s an irrational state of mind that people lacking in emotional intelligence create for themselves by interpreting the words and intentions of others through mental filters based on their personal issues, prejudices, fears and, more often than not in comedy clubs, copious shots of Jägermeister. I believe this because I find myself being offended by things people do and say all the time. Fortunately, most of the time I can catch myself immediately and calm myself down by talking myself through my upset until realizing that I alone own my feelings. So instead of going off on the person whom I’ve allowed to push my buttons, I’ll quietly walk outside and key his car.</p>
<p>Part of being an adult is being able to react maturely and reasonably to ideas and opinions that differ from one’s own. In my humble—and 100% correct—opinion, comedy club patrons who express their displeasure with a comedian’s routine by making a big deal about how “offensive” it is are exhibiting a lack of both reason and maturity and should stop going to comedy clubs and join the presidential race instead.</p>
<p>To clarify, I’ve got no problem with guests who express their opinions politely. For these folks, I’ll go out of my away to be a good listener and say whatever I can to make them feel better. I’ll apologize profusely, suggest another show which may be up their alley, and reserve them front-row seats for that show. What I won’t do, however, is throw the comedian in question under the bus by agreeing with the guest’s assessment of his act should I feel otherwise. If I feel a guest’s criticisms are spot-on, I’ll incorporate those comments into the comedian’s end-of-cruise performance evaluation. If I feel the guest is off base, however, I’ll listen politely for as long as he can keep his critique civil. “I don’t find this comedian funny!” is an opinion I can accept and work with. But as soon as some touchy hothead starts drifting over into “This comedian sucks—he’s not funny at all!” territory, it takes all the willpower I can muster not to pull the pin on a snarky-comment grenade and shout, “What’s that?! You’ll have to speak up! I can’t hear you on account of our being surrounded by five hundred other people laughing their asses of at that hilarious comedian onstage right now!”</p>
<p>So you see, I’ve got no problem with paying (ahem!) customers expressing their honest opinions about any sub-par comedians I have a hand in recruiting and reviewing. In fact, even when the rest of the room is rolling in the aisles, there may be one lone wolf in the crowd who isn’t buying the crap the comedian is selling and who may very well win my respect by identifying that comedian as a headliner wannabe or, as I call such acts, “The Emperor’s Closer.”</p>
<p>No, my beef is with folks who get on their high horse and demand to either have a comic fired or at the very least be forced to drop the “offensive” bit in question. The problem with these folks is not the feelings of anger, disgust, frustration or indignation they experience when hearing a joke or premise they disagree with; the problem is their thinking that those feelings are more valid or important than either the feelings of release and purposefulness experienced by the comedian expressing himself onstage or the feelings of joy and happiness experienced by the other three hundred or so people in the audience who are guffawing their heads off. In other words, when an irate audience member claims to be offended by a joke she is basically saying that, in her opinion, the joke, which is the comedian’s opinion, is invalid, as is the laughter response of the other audience members, which is <em>their</em> opinion, and so in <em>her</em> opinion, the only opinion that matters in this case is <em>her</em> opinion. Well, in <em>my </em>opinion, people who share <em>that</em> opinion should be playing in a sandbox with a bunch of three-year-olds and not taking up seats in a comedy club.</p>
<p>The most ridiculous aspect of such complaints is the offended customer almost always thinks the comedian offended him on purpose. Few comedians derive any joy out of offending people. Stand-ups are by nature very paranoid people and are worried constantly about not being liked and not getting booked. Besides, although a stand-up’s job is to reinterpret everyday experience from an angle the average person would never consider, his ultimate goal is to make people <em>laugh</em> and feel <em>good</em>. And so, because of that and the fact that most comedians are extremely self-centered, we almost always assume that everyone in the audience is going to <em>agree</em> with our point of view. So if we think something is funny, we assume <em>everyone</em> will find it funny. However, every journeyman comedian knows that the audience is the final arbiter of what’s funny and what’s not, so if we try a bit a few times and the majority of the audience rejects it, we’re not going to keep it in the act. Meaning, every time one or two members of an audience are offended by a bit or find it terribly unfunny, hundreds if not thousands of people all around the country—or around the globe, even—have already laughed at it as opposed to being offended by it. (Of course, hate speech is something else altogether. But that’s where the audience comes in. What these “I was so offended” people don’t understand is if a comedian is truly out of line and a joke really is in bad taste, the whole audience will, more often than not, turn on him and let him know immediately. If you don't believe me, just ask Michael "12 Years an Outcast" Richards.)</p>
<p>In my opinion (the three most important words in this essay), too many cruise-ship passengers, when watching stand-up comedy shows they neither paid for nor were forced to attend, have the mistaken belief that their opinion is more important than that of the artist onstage or the other cruisers in the audience. And, in some cases, some of them may actually come to a comedy show <em>looking </em>for something to be offended by because the feelings of self-righteousness and outrage they experience get the endorphins pumping more than a bucketful of free ice-cream on Lido Deck. Fortunately, these folks are in the minority. Unfortunately, they can multiply like Gremlins whenever the cruise line coddles them like children instead of treating them like the adults they’re supposed to be.</p>
<p>In a perfect world, our ship’s Guests Services associates would be empowered to answer all complaints regarding the content of our clearly advertised “eighteen-and-over, uncensored, anything-goes, adults-only” late-night comedy shows that are “not for the easily offended” with: “Let’s see here: You know you’re someone who is easily offended yet you still opted to see an adults-only, uncensored comedy show which was advertised as not being for the easily offended, and now not only have you been easily offended, but you also have third-degree burns all over your body from lying out by the pool all day with no sunscreen?</p>
<p>“Well, what did you <em>think</em> was going to happen, you freckled @#$% ?”</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"># # #</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274642015-11-11T12:00:00-12:002024-03-10T17:58:14-12:00A Fun Dude Looks at Fifty
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<p>Sunday was my fiftieth birthday. I spent it trying out my new over-fifty pickup lines:</p>
<ul>
<li>“Hey, cupcake, would you like a drink? I’ll trade you for some Advil.”</li>
<li>“Hey, hot stuff, come here often? I need to know where the bathroom is—quick!”</li>
<li>“Hey, sweet thing, do you live around here? I was hoping you could recommend a podiatrist.”</li>
</ul>
<p>Needless to say, they didn’t work. Then again, I only tried them on my fiancée and she never listens to me anyway. But, in her defense, she turns fifty in January so maybe I should just get her a hearing aid for her birthday.</p>
<p>The great thing about turning fifty is I can finally read <em>AARP magazine</em> legally. No more hiding under the covers with a flashlight, hoping my parents don’t catch me:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Young man, is that our latest copy of <em>AARP Magazine </em>you’re reading?!”</p>
<p>“I’m not <em>reading </em>it—I’m just looking at the advertisements! With a magnifying glass <em>this big</em> I could burn ants on a cloudy day!”</p>
<p>“OK, just as long as you aren’t reading that in-depth cover piece about counteracting the long-term effects of Nexium with daily calcium supplements. At forty-nine, you’re way too young to be reading such salacious nonsense.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>A scary thing about turning fifty is that both my mom and dad—still together after fifty years of marriage—are in their seventies. If all three of us live another twenty years or so—likely for them thanks to their good health and unlikely for me thanks to my smart mouth—I’ll be in my seventies while they’re in their nineties. This means I could, conceivably, wind up living in the same assisted living facility as my parents. At seventy, that would be great for me, because it’s hard to feel old when your parents keep asking you when you’re finally going to grow up and get a place of your own.</p>
<p>A weird thing about being fifty is how your doctor can tell you that you’re in perfect health for your age and then write you a prescription for a bunch of medications:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Here’s a script for Celebrex, Nexium, Myrbetriq, and Linzess.”</p>
<p>“But, Doc, I thought you said I’m perfectly healthy.”</p>
<p>“You <em>are</em> perfectly healthy. But you’re also perfectly <em>fifty. </em>Which means it’s perfectly <em>natural</em> to have arthritis, Acid Reflux Disease, Overactive Bladder Syndrome, and occasional irregularity. So buy a pill dispenser and a heating pad, avoid fatty foods, tie a rubber band around your pee-pee, take a painful poop, and welcome to fifty, Fun Geezer!”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Of all my various welcome-to-fifty ailments the most difficult one to deal with has been my chronic acid reflux problem. This past summer, my cruise line sent me home on three months’ medical leave—or as the chefs in the crew galley called it, “Mission accomplished!”</p>
<p>When you’re diagnosed with Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease, also known by the onomatopoetic acronym GERD, the doctor gives you a long list of food and beverages to avoid:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Sorry, Jeffrey, but no orange juice, no soda, no beer, no wine, no coffee, no tea, no pizza, no lasagna, no hot wings, no gumbo, no hamburgers, no French fries, no onion rings, no tacos, no burritos, no pineapple, no grapefruit, no strawberries, no kiwis, no milk chocolate, no chocolate milk, no chocolate sauce, no mint gum, no mint candy—no mint <em>anything</em>, no yogurt, no ice cream, no milkshakes….”</p>
<p>“Doc, are you serious? I might as well just kill myself.”</p>
<p>“OK, if you <em>want</em>. But no arsenic, no chlorine, no rat poison….”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>If you want more proof that I’m fifty, look no further than the following exchange between me and my gastroenterologist:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Well, Jeffrey, seeing how your recent bought of constipation is happening during your current course of medication for GERD, I’m going to order a colonoscopy as part of your treatment.”</p>
<p>“Yippee! Free butt check at fifty! Free butt check at fifty! Free butt check at fifty! Yippee!”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>I can’t think of a better fiftieth birthday present than learning that my first ever colonoscopy, that coveted and fun-filled rite of passage for all newly minted fifty year olds, would be covered by my cruise line’s insurance, instead of being a preventative measure that would come out of my own pocket. Sorry to sound like a cheapskate, but why pay two grand to have a camera shoved up my butt when I can get it done for free and save my cash for all the Preparation H, Ben Gay, Metamucil, Miralax, Dr. Scholl’s inserts, bifocals, Ensure, Depends and checkerboards I’m going to need over the next ten years?</p>
<p>When I told my fiancée I was going to have a camera stuck up my butt, she said, “Why don’t you ask them to look for your head while they’re up there?”</p>
<p>I said, “Hey, I’m fifty. I made it this far without it.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274632015-07-01T12:00:00-12:002023-12-11T18:44:57-12:00Zip Lines, Parasailing and Jet Skis -- Oh, My!
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<p>Although there's a lot to do when your ship's at sea, new and wondrous adventures await you ashore. Have the urge to remain on the ship and eat yourself into a coma while everyone else is wasting time in port? Snap out of it, Skipper! You’re not (just) some fat and lazy American on vacation; you’re an intrepid explorer in search of danger and excitement—so slather on that sunblock, suck up that gut and whip out that American Express card, because an intrepid adventurer such as yourself is going to want to splurge on some shore excursions for you and your family so you can actually go out and experience—not just visit—the ports. Unless, of course, your idea of a good time is wandering aimlessly around a port area that is the mother of tourist traps screaming, “No! No! No! Yes! No! Yes! Hell no! Hell yes!” to locals trying to sell you fake jewelry, cheap T-shirts, imitation leather goods, marijuana, wood carvings, prostitutes, wool blankets in summertime and Mexican wrestling masks.</p>
<p></p>
<p>So in order to help you maximize your fun in the sun, here are five of the most popular shore excursions for you to choose from:</p>
<p></p>
<p><strong>Excursion # 1: swimming with the dolphins. </strong>Dolphin encounters are some of the most popular excursions offered by any cruise line because they allow cruise aficionados such as yourself to treat your family to an experience of a lifetime. In fact, millions of Americans are sailing to the Caribbean this year for the warm sunshine, enchanting evening breezes, sapphire waters, and the chance to swim with cute and cuddly dolphins that weigh 1,100 pounds and can crush a small child like a warm M & M. But despite what the critics might say, swim-with-the-dolphin programs are a great opportunity for dolphins, the second-most intelligent creatures in the world to bond with tourists, the least intelligent creatures in the world.</p>
<p></p>
<p>Swim-with-the-dolphin excursions have become increasingly popular in the Caribbean in the past ten years or so and the dolphins dig it, too. A former dolphin trainer, who spoke candidly with me on the condition that I twist his words around, told me that dolphins love being in captivity where they can perform the same boring tricks over and over again with overweight tourists and their snot-nosed offspring holding onto their fins as they bang their sensitive snouts on the walls of their claustrophobic pens instead of swimming free in deep blue ocean, where the only tourists they'll meet are drunk cruisers who fall overboard.</p>
<p></p>
<p>"Dolphins are beautiful and amazing creatures in their natural habitat," the trainer told me. "But stick them in a cage, and they become sad, frustrated and aggressive, making it that much easier for them to relate to humans.”</p>
<p></p>
<p><strong>Excursion # 2: snorkeling and scuba diving.</strong> Snorkeling is a particularly popular activity among junior cruisers because kids are less apt to be unpleasantly surprised at how nut-tuckingly cold the water in the Caribbean can be, less apt to become disappointed or angry when unusually strong currents make it difficult to observe underwater life, and less apt to get upset when their eyes are flooded with stinging salt water because their parents were too tipsy to properly adjust their masks for them.</p>
<p></p>
<p>The primary appeal of snorkeling for parents is that it doesn’t require the expense, equipment and training required for scuba diving. But if honest-to-goodness scuba diving is more your thing, then you’ll have to get certified first if you want to dive on your own. If you’re not certified, then you'll have to either dive with a guide or get hired as an uncertified guide for other non-certified tourists.</p>
<p></p>
<p><strong>Shore excursion # 3: zip-lining.</strong></p>
<p></p>
<p>Are you overweight, out of shape and afraid of heights? Then this is the excursion for you. If you don’t have fun, then your bored guides certainly will because they can definitely use a good laugh.</p>
<p></p>
<p><strong>Shore excursion # 4: parasailing.</strong></p>
<p></p>
<p>Each year, an estimated three to five million people participate in parasailing. This popular activity is one of the most exciting things you can do in port because it's largely unregulated with serious accidents frequently caused by faulty equipment. There are: no federal regulations or guidelines that establish specific training or certification for parasailing operators; no requirement for inspection of the parasailing equipment; and no requirement to shut down operations during nasty weather conditions. For these reasons alone, serious thrill seekers are sure to get their money’s worth.</p>
<p></p>
<p>If you’re still not sold on the idea of being suspended 500 above the ocean's surface, where something as simple as a weak towline, strong winds, or a worn harness can cause a tragic accident, then perhaps the fact that there no are rules or laws preventing you from buying a half-priced bottle of tequila at the duty free shop and drinking it during your flight might seal the deal.</p>
<p></p>
<p><strong>Shore excursion # 5: Jet Skis and ATVs. </strong>Can’t decide between renting a Jet Ski or a four-wheeler, then get a package deal so you can do both in one day. That way, you can break your neck <em>and </em> your back. (And then rent a Rascal scooter back on the ship.)</p>
<p></p>
<p>So don't just lounge around Lido Deck, nursing your strawberry daiquiri; book a shore excursion today! There'll be plenty of time for lounging when you're in traction in the ICU.</p>
<p> </p>
<p></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274622015-05-31T12:00:00-12:002023-12-11T18:04:47-12:00Next Stop Danger Island!
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/c39c8be985d3608de72cc15d62fe5241a9029173/original/danger-island.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTAweDMzMyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="333" width="500" /></p>
<p>You can read all the online articles you want about the crime and violence in popular ports of call such as St. Thomas and Jamaica, but I’m here to remind you that St. Thomas for one is actually part of America. That means it’s no more dangerous than, say, Camden, New Jersey.</p>
<p>But just because some ports have dangerous areas doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen to you. Sure, you <em>might</em> get shot or stabbed at an ATM but at least you’ll have pretty coconut trees to look up at while you’re lying on the ground bleeding to death.</p>
<p>Jamaica, coincidentally, is where Angela Basset filmed the movie “How Stella Got Her Groove Back.” I can’t remember exactly how Stella got her groove back, but I can tell you how she lost it: Stella left her groove in the trunk of a rental car in Montego Bay and that groove got <em>jacked</em>, Jack.</p>
<p>I wasn’t prepared for how filthy Jamaica is, either. Litter everywhere. Then again, with as much pot that’s smoked in that country, I guess it shouldn’t be much of a surprise to see thousands of candy wrappers blowing in the wind. If you ask me, we should give our ship’s entire Housekeeping Department the morning off in Montego Bay. They’d have that whole city spic and span in three hours and still be back in time to clean up after you messy bastards before lunch.</p>
<p>All jokes aside, if you go exploring in Caribbean ports make sure you travel with a large group of other tourists. You ‘ll fell a lot less frightened and intimidated if you’re not the only person being robbed at gunpoint.</p>
<p>Most islanders will bristle at American travel advisories. They’ll ask how we can call their port cities dangerous when America has Cleveland and Detroit. I’ll keep that in mind the next time I drop two grand on a seven-day cruise on Lake Erie.</p>
<p>The other problem with crime in the Caribbean is that criminals are rarely caught. It’s easier to catch Ebola than a purse snatcher. There was more justice in 1964 Selma than in modern day Honduras, for example. Of the last 50 Americans killed in Honduras, the local police have solved just 2 cases. Their top detectives determined that one victim was killed by a murderer and the other was murdered by a killer.</p>
<p>Because a forewarned traveler is a safe traveler, here's...</p>
<p><strong>The Fun Dude’s Top Ten List of Ports to Watch Your Ass In:</strong></p>
<ol>
<li>
<strong>St. Lucia: </strong>Armed robberies are so common on this island that a local tour company offers a shore excursion where you can ride around the city in a double-decker bus and watch actual crimes in progress, giving new meaning to the phrase, “mugging for the camera.”</li>
<li>
<strong>El Salvador: </strong>El Salvador has one of the highest murder rates in the world. But then again, you can get a kick-ass mango daiquiri for dirt cheap. So don’t let anybody scare you out of getting your drink on.</li>
<li>
<strong> United States Virgin Islands (USVI):</strong>The U.S. Virgin islands are filled with so many guns, drugs, robberies, that most Americans should feel right at home.</li>
<li>
<strong>Antigua:</strong> Although Antigua may seem like a tropical paradise, it’s seen more than its share of tragedies. For example, Justin Bieber vacationed there once and nothing happened to him.</li>
<li>
<strong>St. Kitts: </strong>James Bond refuses to go there anymore ever since he walked outside his hotel and found his Aston Martin up on blocks.</li>
<li>
<strong>Mexico: </strong>Kidnappings and be-headings don’t usually happen in the tourist areas, which makes seeing one at the Hard Rock Café in Acapulco that much more special. </li>
<li>
<strong>Guatemala: </strong>Guatemala is not a place where you should think of going for a leisurely stroll through the back streets. You’d be better off rollerblading through South Central Los Angeles.</li>
<li>
<strong>Venezuela:</strong> Venezuela also has one of the highest murder rates. One American cruise passenger was killed simply for wearing a fanny pack. (So at least this guy had it coming.)</li>
<li>
<strong>Honduras:</strong> Like many other Caribbean islands, the police are either corrupt or incompetent. So this is where big city police departments from the States come down every spring to scout new recruits.</li>
<li>
<strong>Bahamas:</strong> The U.S. State Department has issued numerous crime warnings for the Bahamas. The second you step off the cruise ship you're likely to be offered drugs. Fortunately, those drugs will most likely be Lipitor and Viagra so at least Bahamian drug dealers know their market.</li>
</ol>
<p><strong>Minimizing Your Risks</strong></p>
<p> Here are some safety measures you can take to reduce the risk of becoming a victim while on vacation:</p>
<ul>
<li>Travel in groups of two or more. Never get into a taxi with a passenger already inside, even when offered a chance to split the fare. The driver and the "passenger" may be in cahoots. (Guys, "cahoots" is a variety of Capri pants.)</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Keep a low profile. You can achieve this by either dressing inconspicuously or by signing up for a My Space account.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Do not wear a fanny pack (especially in Venezuela). If you don’t wind up being robbed of your money, you’ll be robbed of your dignity.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Never put valuable items in a backpack, unless you're a man and it’s a Hello Kitty backpack, in which case your assailants will be too busy laughing to actually rob you.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Moreover, men, never carry your billfold in your back pocket. Samuel L. Jackson isn’t the only person who wants to know what’s in your wallet. I recommend a trick novelty wallet that shoots out a fake rubber serpent. That way, if Samuel L. Jackson himself ever asks you what’s in your wallet you can open it in his face and shout, “Mother-@#$-ing snakes--that’s what, beeotch!”</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>If you’re a woman, don’t carry your purse over your shoulder; carry it across your chest. This will cause your would-be purse snatcher to focus on your breasts instead of your purse.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Money belts are for amateurs. Nothing says “easy mark” to a pickpocket like watching somebody take their shirt off to buy a Snickers bar at a newsstand.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Take just one or two credit cards and a modicum of cash ashore with you in order to minimize your losses in case a thief takes a fancy to you. Better yet, max them all out at home, before you leave on your cruise.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Unless absolutely unavoidable, never go ashore with your actual passport; bring a photocopy of the data pages. If Guest Services won’t let you use the photo copier on the ship, you can use one at the local police station in port when you go there to report your stolen wallet.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Which reminds me: Carry a "mugger's wallet." This is a cheap wallet with a small amount of cash that you'll find in your pocket after realizing that you gave the mugger your actual wallet by mistake.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Leave your cell phone in your cabin. Expensive smartphones, such as an I-Phone or Galaxy, are the most common items stolen from cruise-ship passengers. If you need to make a call, you can always steal a phone from a fellow tourist.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Most important—try to stay sober. The drunker you are, the more likely ransom-hungry kidnappers are to mistake you for Lindsay Lohan.</li>
</ul>
<p>Although I do want you to think a little before gallivanting around a Third-World country with a fancy camera around your neck, I don't mean to scare you into canceling your cruise. As I made clear at the start of this essay, traveling to the Caribbean isn’t any more dangerous than biking through Baltimore.</p>
<p>So if you exercise caution, stay aware of your surroundings, and don’t venture too far off the beaten path, you’ll be able to party your ass off without losing it or getting it kicked.</p>
<p>Stay safe and have fun, dude!</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274612015-05-16T12:00:00-12:002024-03-10T17:58:14-12:00Book It, Danno!
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/b75ec688743bfc7d000842adb6a8d8fe4ed987f6/original/book-em-danno.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjkyeDIxNiJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="216" width="292" /></p>
<p>Regardless of how much money you have in the bank or how big your yearly vacation budget is, getting the lowest possible fare on a cruise is always a plus. That way you’ll have some money left over for plastic surgery so that you can shake those IRS investigators off your tail before boarding a luxurious ocean liner bound for the Cayman Islands. Unfortunately, finding good deals can be tough sometimes because a luxury cruise to a popular destination can be a little pricey, so here are six tips to help you prevent your next cruise vacation from costing you an arm and a nose job:</p>
<ol>
<li>
<strong>Book through a travel agent.</strong> If you’re worried that going through a third party will make your cruise more expensive, stop worrying. Travel agents make their money from commissions from cruise lines, wholesalers and hotels—and from all the marijuana they sell on the side, which is nothing compared to the amount they smoke. Yes, it shouldn’t surprise you that <em>all</em> travel agents are high <em>all</em> the time. That’s why they’re always telling you not to worry: “But what if one of my relatives has to cancel the cruise for any reason, such as being arrested for flying their gyrocopter into White House airspace, will I get the deposit for their fare back?” <em>Don’t worry, dude. Just mellow out and everything’s gonna be OK, dude.</em> “One half of my party has the 6:00pm dinner seating, one half has the 8:00pm dinner seating, and the third half is brown-bagging it. Are you sure the Maître D’ will be able to change our dining times around so we can all eat together?” <em>All this talk of dinner is making me hungry, dude. Stay on the line while I skateboard down to Sam’s Club and snag a ten-pound bag of M & M’s, dude.</em> Because travel agents always have access to righteous weed, they’re able to trade for special cruise deals not available to the general public, and therefore they can end up saving you big bucks on your cruise. And you don’t pay them a dime for hooking you up. Just bring them back a suitcase full of rum cake from the Bahamas and they’ll call it even, dude.</li>
<li>
<strong>Book at the last minute.</strong> If your travel plans are flexible, you should seriously consider holding off until the last minute to book a cruise. The closer they get to the departure date, the more desperate cruise lines become to offload unsold cabins at bargain-basement rates meant to entice you into quitting your job and selling your children (try Craig’s List!) so you can just pick up and go. Since the ship is going to sail regardless of whether it’s completely full or half empty, they figure that they can’t sell nine-dollar cocktails and twenty-dollar Bingo cards to empty cabins. If you play your cards right, you can net huge savings with this strategy. However, keep in mind that some ships with popular itineraries are always going to be jam packed at certain times of the year, so be sure to read my companion piece to this essay: “Hey, Jackass—Don’t Wait till the Last Minute to Book Your Cruise!”</li>
<li>
<strong>Cruise at the right time of the year.</strong> The best time to cruise is definitely during Spring Break. Especially if you’re older, cruising alone to just get away from it all or simply looking for a romantic vacation with that special someone. The great thing about cruising during Spring Break is that the ship will be booked to capacity either with grade-schoolers running around screaming, shouting and peeing on everything or with college kids running around screaming, shouting and peeing on everything. Either way all that screaming, shouting and peeing will make your cruise seem much more adventurous and exciting. You might even pee a little yourself.</li>
<li>
<strong>Look into added-value promotions.</strong> Many cruise lines offer special deals that might include hotel rooms, discounted or complimentary shore excursions and perhaps even included or discounted airfare. Only problem is you’ll have to book these cruises a little in advance, say, a decade or two. You may be able to find even more added-value promotions through a travel agent, such as free Skittles and rolling papers. (If you haven’t caught on yet, <em>all </em>travel agents are high <em>all </em>the time.)</li>
<li>
<strong>Check out cruise consolidators.</strong> If you choose to bypass a travel agent, consider checking out cruise consolidators or “bulk buyers” who buy blocks of cabins at incredible discounts. Cruise consolidators can net you considerable savings on cabins, excursions and such. Just keep in mind that all cruise consolidators work for the Mafia so if you cancel your cruise for any reason you might end up as a sightseeing stop for future divers and snorkelers.</li>
<li>
<strong>Create a budget and stick to it.</strong> Ha-ha-ha! I’m killing me!</li>
</ol>
<p>So there you have it. Six tips for saving money on your next cruise. As good as money in the bank. Or maybe an offshore account in the Cayman Islands.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"># # #</p>
<p></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274602015-04-25T12:00:00-12:002023-12-11T18:52:17-12:00Cruising for Beginners
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/351482f25e9b9795c41d12e990d4cd7dae159885/original/cruising-for-beginners.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6Mzg5eDI1NiJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="256" width="389" /></p>
<p>Ever wonder why your Facebook friends can’t stop blabbering about how much fun they had on their latest cruise? They want to make you feel bad, that’s why. They know you haven’t cruised before so they keep filling your newsfeed with posts and photos reminding you about how much they enjoyed themselves in order to make you feel that much sadder about your own miserable existence.</p>
<p></p>
<p>But why get sad when you can get even? Now it’s your turn to book a cruise, have some fun, and then spend the next six months blogging about and posting photos from your cruise until your friends and relatives scream “uncle” and go camping.</p>
<p></p>
<p>However, if the idea of revenge isn’t incentive enough for you to set sail on your dream vacation, then here are a few “fun facts” which just might convince you that your first cruise could turn out to be that perfect getaway you’ve always dreamt about. If not, at least I’ll have helped you waste a few minutes of your time you could have spent at your desk, working.</p>
<p></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Fun Fact #1: Cruises Are Cheap</strong></p>
<p></p>
<p>Cruises offer big bang for your vacation buck because the fares cover just about everything you'll need for a fun-filled trip: food, accommodations, entertainment and often transportation from the airport to the ship. It’s a good thing that stuff is included because you might need your cash to purchase a $50 bottle of sunscreen in Grand Cayman.</p>
<p></p>
<p>You’ll often see Internet deals on leading cruise lines for under $100 per person, per night, which is considerably cheaper than you'd spend on land for dinner, drinks and a DUI.</p>
<p></p>
<p>On some cruise lines, kids even sail free or at discounted rates when sharing a cabin with two adults. So if you can find two adults who won’t mind sharing their cabin with your kids, you‘re in luck.</p>
<p></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Fun Fact #2: Cruises Take You to Exotic Locations</strong></p>
<p></p>
<p>On a cruise, the ship takes you from one exotic location to another. You won’t need to worry about anything but having fun and getting left behind in Mexico with no luggage, no passport and a killer hangover.</p>
<p></p>
<p>You’ll unpack your suitcase at the beginning of the cruise and wake up in a different tropical paradise every day. Then you’ll have to wake up the kids, wait for your friends or relatives to get ready, go to breakfast, realize you’re all at different restaurants at different ends of the ship, spend the next half hour trying to find each other, eat standing up because you’re not the only family with the bright idea to eat before disembarking, and then wait in line to get off the ship.</p>
<p></p>
<p>Then, once off the ship, you’ll wait for somebody in your party to go back on the ship for their camera, sunglasses or fanny pack. Then you’ll stand around in the blazing heat trying to figure out what to do before realizing that none of you has a clue as to where to go or what to do. So then you’ll waste another half hour nervously negotiating a game plan. Some of you may want to go shopping, some of you may want to go on an excursion, some of you may want to go drinking, and some of you may want to rent a donkey and start the long trip home. But in the end, you’ll wind up doing what Grandma and Grandpa want to do, which is to visit a Guatemalan sex dungeon.</p>
<p></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Fun Fact #3: Cruises Are Family-Friendly</strong></p>
<p></p>
<p>If you're pulling your hair out to find a vacation that your 5-, 10- and 15-year-olds will all love, then go to your local video arcade. But if you want to do something special that will make you feel like model parents but that your kids are way too immature and spoiled to enjoy, then take the family on a cruise.</p>
<p></p>
<p>Most ships have kids’ clubs that are divided by age. Teens have their own cool clubhouse, far away from the playrooms for the rug rats—and even further away from the adults-only areas. How can your kids not love a kids’ club that offers video games, water slide races, dance parties, face painting, arts & crafts and sporting events? Easy, because kids’ clubs are “boring,” “stupid,” and nowhere near as fun as spending the whole cruise riding up and down the lobby atrium in a glass elevator.</p>
<p></p>
<p>So what are you waiting for? Book that first cruise and start making your Facebook friends miserable.</p>
<p></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"># # #</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274592015-04-18T12:00:00-12:002023-12-11T18:48:30-12:00Love at First Fight
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/0658e598870e30bc04fc321732deda86a5803b74/original/arguing.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzIyeDIxNyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="217" width="322" /></p>
<p>I’m engaged to a beautiful and intelligent Croatian woman with whom I argue a lot. When people ask us how we met, we tell them it was love at first fight.</p>
<p>And, boy, how we fight. If we lived in Israel, Israelis and Palestinians alike would be knocking on our door, shouting, “Give it a rest already!”</p>
<p>Our latest fight was particularly bad. But, like most of our fights, I have no idea what it was about or how it got started. All I know is Chris Brown called me the next day and said, “N****, you better apologize.”</p>
<p>Some people believe that constant fighting means you’re in the wrong relationship. Not me. Željka and I don’t fight because we’re in a <em>bad</em> relationship; we fight because we’re in <em>a </em>relationship. A relationship without fighting is like a Vin Diesel movie without car chases: a lot less noisy but nowhere near as fun.</p>
<p>Our constant fighting doesn’t say we’re wrong for each other. It says we both have poor relationship skills. It says we’re both immature, ego driven and hot-tempered. It says we have anger issues, intimacy issues and trust issues. It says we’re bad listeners, blamers and excuse makers. We’re not wrong for each other so much as we’re perfect for “Dr. Phil.”</p>
<p>Most people are too quick to break up with somebody just because the relationship gets a little rocky:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“I can’t believe you just buried an ax in my head! I want a divorce!”</p>
<p>“Oh, stop being so dramatic—we've got health insurance! How about a little makeup sex?!”</p>
<p>“Not tonight—I’ve got a headache!”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Relationships aren’t meant to make you happy; they’re meant to give you somebody to be unhappy <em>with</em>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“I hate you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah? Well, <em>I</em> hate <em>you.”</em></p>
<p>“Wanna watch a movie?”</p>
<p>“Sure, as long as it’s not some stupid rom-com with a happy ending.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Happiness is your own responsibility. If you can’t be happy by yourself, stop thinking you can be happy with somebody else:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“I’m fat, I’m stupid and I’m unattractive. But if I were in a relationship, <em>then</em> I would be happy.</p>
<p>“Because then the only thing missing in my life would the nagging suspicion that my significant other is cheating on me with somebody thinner, smarter and more attractive.</p>
<p>“So if I could replace my insecurity and self-loathing with a constant fear of betrayal and abandonment —<em>then, </em>I would be happy.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Companionship is its own reward. I don’t expect Željka to make me happy; I expect her to make me a sandwich. And Željka doesn’t expect me to make her happy; she expects me to make the bed. Her cooking for me shows she loves me and my doing little chores for her shows I love her. All that the constant fighting shows is that we better not break up, because nobody else would put up with us.</p>
<p>Why are Željka and I still together after four years even though we drive each other crazy? Because we both realize that trying to find a partner who doesn’t drive you crazy is like trying to find a dog that doesn’t bark. If you don’t like barking, don’t get a dog. If you don’t like bitching, don’t get a you-know-what.</p>
<p>Many men make the mistake of thinking that if his wife or girlfriend is constantly busting his nuggets, she’s the wrong woman for him. Guys, you shouldn't worry about your woman busting your nuggets, because busting your nuggets is the number one sign that she really loves you. What you should be worried about is the woman who never busts your nuggets, who never gets angry, who never loses her temper. Show me a woman who doesn’t do everything she can to make you miserable when you’re awake and I’ll show you a woman who’ll murder you when you’re asleep.</p>
<p>The only way to be in a happier relationship is to become a happier person. And the only way to become a happier person is to become a better person. And the only way to become a better person is to develop better life skills, better communication skills, better listening skills and better relationship skills. Reading books helps. Going to counseling helps. Watching “Dr. Phil” helps. Eating an entire carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream with the lights out <em>really</em> helps.</p>
<p>But one thing that doesn’t help you become a better person is bailing on a relationship just because the other person is a gigantic pain in the butt. That’s why I’ve never understood divorce. Ask any married man if he would take a bullet for his wife and he’ll say Yes without hesitation. But as soon as his wife becomes a certified nugget busting machine, he’ll start chasing anything in a skirt. So let me get this straight: You’re willing to take a bullet for your woman but you’re not willing to take forty to fifty years of incessant bickering, quarreling, squabbling, yelling, screaming and standing half-naked on the front lawn at 4:00am, putting your personal belongings out with a fire extinguisher?</p>
<p>Wussy!</p>
<p>You’re the one who bought the engagement ring. You’re the one who proposed. You’re the one who said “I do”—until <em>death do you part.</em> So don’t abandon the ship now just because the seas are a little stormy. It’s not love unless the neighbors call 911 and you wind up on “Cops,” being pushed into the back of a squad car in your boxer shorts and wife-beater T-shirt while she stands on the porch of the double-wide, sobbing, “He’s a good man, officer—he didn't mean me to bury that ax in my head. Don't arrest him--we got health insurance...."</p>
<p>Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. Željka just finished reading this horse crap and I’ve got some fighting to do.</p>
<p>And the only thing I love more than fighting is... <em>her.</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"># # #</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274582015-04-11T12:00:00-12:002023-12-11T18:46:55-12:00Draw the Line
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/88ce84b0bba4ec1253ba26adde7c1789048b1162/original/long-line.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NTIxeDMzMSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="331" width="521" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>If there’s one thing cruise ship guests hate it’s waiting in line to see a free comedy show. It fact, some guests get so mad they look like they want to hit me. Only reason they don’t is the line for beating me up is usually longer than the line for the show.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>In all fairness, I can see why people on vacation wouldn’t want to wait ten minutes to see a forty-minute comedy show. These are the same people who’ll wait in a three-hour line at Six Flags for a two-minute roller coaster ride. The same people who’ll camp out on Canal Street in New Orleans at nine in the morning for a Mardi Gras parade that doesn’t start till noon and won’t reach them until four in the afternoon. The same people who’ll sleep outside an Apple Store all weekend just to buy the new iPhone even though they still haven’t figured out how to use their previous iPhone. The same people who’ll, on the first night of the cruise, spend forty-five minutes in a Free Liquor Tasting line that circles the lobby of the ship just so they can down a thimble-sized sample of Baily’s Irish Cream. So, yes, I can see why waiting ten minutes for a professional comedy show would be too much suffering for their fallen arches to endure.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>There’s something about lines (or “queues,” if you’re British) that brings out the worst in people. On a nightly basis I observe grown adults cut the line, save spots for friends, nit-pick about who was standing where, push and shove, scream and shout, and then become verbally abusive (or “get all Parliamentary,” if you’re British) with me or my assistants when confronted about their behavior. Other guests will refuse to join the line altogether and try to start their own line at the exit of the comedy club, refusing to move as they’re trampled by a stampede of 600 departing guests in search of free pizza and ice cream. It’s nights like that that make me wish there were more icebergs in the Caribbean.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Some of my superiors believe that turning a blind eye to such childish behavior falls under the heading of Good Customer Service. I do not. I believe that when passengers pay for a cruise they are paying to travel on the ship, paying to sleep on the ship, paying to eat on the ship, and paying to enjoy the free live entertainment offered on the ship. They are <em>not </em>paying for the right to interfere with our operation, supplant our policies with their own, defy or disrespect our team members or infringe upon the fun of their fellow guests through rude, selfish or discourteous behavior. For that we charge extra.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>In my opinion, passengers are called “guests” for a reason: the ship is <em>our</em> home and they are just visiting. In my cruise line’s opinion, however, passengers should be considered “part of the family.” Fine. But if you ask me, that’s even more of a reason for us to call guests on their crap. I’d love to see our more problematic passengers try to pull the same shenanigans in the home of a close relative and see what happens. Try telling their Aunt Clara and Uncle Eugene how to run their household, spill food on their furniture, leave dirty dishes on their stairs, make noise at all hours of the night outside their bedroom door and speak rudely or disrespectfully to them or their cousins and they’ll find themselves at a Motel 6 faster than they can say, “It may be your house but it’s <em>my </em>vacation.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>I love my job and I love my ship. I also love the vast majority of guests who cruise with us week after week. So, please come sail with us soon. I’ll do my part to make sure you have the best cruise ever. But, to echo something we’ve all heard our fathers say a million times while growing up: If you cruise under <em>my roof,</em> you cruise under <em>my rules.</em></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Got a problem with that? Get in line.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"># # #</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274572015-03-17T12:00:00-12:002023-12-10T04:47:00-12:00My Two Sense
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/9e400c0db57d680845edf491ca6f68e5b476ad5e/original/img-9675.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDY0eDMwOSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="309" width="464" /></p>
<p><strong>My least favorite part of being our ship’s comedy club manager is turning over the showroom between shows. A hard partying crowd of 600 people can leave enough empty beer bottles and cocktail glasses in their wake to make the Punchliner look like Motley Crϋe’s tour bus. So in order to clean the room in ten minutes or less—and to ensure that guests waiting in line for the next show can get good seats without having to shove a fellow guest overboard—we ask the audience to exit after every performance. Not surprisingly, guests are less than thrilled by this policy, because it forces them to do two activities cruise ship passengers are notoriously reluctant to engage in: following instructions and leaving the sitting position. But I find that if I attach a free drink coupon to some fishing line I can usually coax them all out eventually.</strong></p>
<p><strong>I’ve been told I should look at it at from a guest’s point of view. And I have. Their point of view is that they have the right to ignore the rules because they “paid good money to be here.” They paid good money to fill up their gas tank—does that mean they can run a red light? They paid good money to finish their basement—does that mean they can use it as a meth lab? They paid good money for their cellphone—does that mean they can take a photo of their “junk,” email it to unsuspecting women, lose their spot in Congress and then run for mayor of a major metropolitan city? (OK, bad example.)</strong></p>
<p><strong>Not every guest gives me a hard time about our policy, but those who do make my job way harder than it needs to be. These people have been on the ship less than 24 hours and yet suddenly they’re experts in running a comedy club: “I have to leave now that the show is over and people are already lining up outside for the next one and your staff needs to clean up and reset the showroom in less than ten minutes? That makes no sense!”</strong></p>
<p><strong>“Of course that makes no sense to <em>you</em>,” I feel like screaming back, “<em>You’</em>ve never set foot in our club before! But maybe if you were an experienced crowd control expert who possessed firsthand knowledge of the type of traffic flow problems our carefully considered and thoroughly tested policies and procedures have been designed to prevent, instead of a vacationer seeing live stand-up for the first time, perhaps you wouldn’t be so befuddled. You may have <em>paid</em> to be here but I <em>get paid </em>to be here, so whaddya say you keep drinking yourself blind and I’ll keep doing my job?</strong></p>
<p><strong>I’ve never understood “that makes no sense” as a guest’s go-to objection to our shipboard policies. Of course it makes no sense: you haven’t received the same training that we have nor are you privy to the same information we are. If you were to take a trip to Dick’s Sporting Goods, I’m sure that the machine that drills holes in the bowling balls would baffle the bejesus out of you. But to the guy who has been <em>trained</em> to drill the holes in bowling balls, the ball hole drilling machine makes <em>perfect sense.</em> And maybe if he were to drill a couple of holes into your skull, it would drain enough “stupid juice” out of your noggin so that from now on you’ll no longer demand that things make sense to you immediately and instead learn how to ask intelligent questions that might lead to you having a wider frame of reference, which will lead to better understanding of our polices, which will lead to you realizing that we have your and your fellow guests’ best interests at heart and have no intention of inconveniencing you or ruining your vacation, so please stop thinking that paying for a cruise makes you a senior vice president of the cruise line.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Similarly, when I board an airplane, none of the dials or levers in the cockpit makes sense to me. Difference is, the fact that those dials and levers make no sense to me <em>makes perfect sense to me--</em>because <em>I’m not a pilot!</em> But I’m pretty sure that if I took flying lessons for a number of years, spent thousands of hours in the air before finally obtaining my commercial pilot’s license, all that technology in the cockpit would one day make <em>perfect</em> sense to me. I’m also pretty sure I’d be even less tolerant of idiots that I am now:</strong></p>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>“I can’t believe we have to wait an extra twenty minutes before takeoff just because one of the engines fell off the plane—that makes no sense!"</strong></p>
<p><strong>“Yeah, well, go Greyhound next time, jackass!”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong># # #</strong></p>
</blockquote>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274562015-02-13T12:00:00-12:002023-12-10T07:50:09-12:00The Book of Jobs
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/ed8991e38f656e31481ee591b87994eebb31bd0c/original/caution-god-at-work1.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NjAzeDM4NiJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="386" width="603" /></p>
<p><strong>I saw this human interest story on TV about a born-again Christian in his 20’s who found a job at a copy center right after he found God. “Jesus helped me get a job,” the kid said, tearfully. (Which employment agency did he go through—<em>Son of Manp</em>ower?)</strong></p>
<p><strong>Switching channels, I stumbled across some vapid teen comedy in which one kid was being razzed by his schoolmates for working at his father’s car dealership after school. “Daddy’s Boy,” they called him. The movie had a happy ending, though. His daddy beat up their daddies.</strong></p>
<p><strong>So why is it that when your dad helps you get a job it’s called nepotism, yet when God helps you get a job it’s called faith? Your old man may have connections, but the Lord can work miracles. That’s why “It’s a miracle you got hired” is rarely meant as a compliment.</strong></p>
<p><strong>In 2000, President-elect Bush deflected charges of nepotism by stressing his faith in God: “It weren’t my daddy that helped me become prez-ee-dent,” he said. “No way, José—it was God. G-O-D-D: ‘God’.”</strong></p>
<p><strong>I’m not saying you should brag if Pops pulls some strings for you. I’m saying you <em>shouldn’t</em> brag if <em>God Almighty, Lord and Master of the Entire Freaking Universe </em>pulls some strings for you. Bragging that God got you a job is like bragging that Wolfgang Puck poured the milk for your cereal. Impressive, sure, but why didn’t you just do it yourself?</strong></p>
<p><strong>I was taught that God helps those who help themselves. That’s why “God got me a job” doesn’t impress me. What <em>would</em> have impressed me is if the kid had said, “The Lord has blessed me with a strong body and a healthy mind, so I decided it was time to shut off the X-Box, get off the couch, and find a job!” That way, his parents’ prayers would have been answered instead.</strong></p>
<p><strong>But for me, asking God to take a break from answering prayers in Ukraine and the Gaza Strip just to help you not botch an interview for minimum-wage employment is silly and arrogant. And so what if God got you a job at Kinko’s? He made Justin Bieber a millionaire! (On second thought, that was more likely the work of God’s downstairs neighbor.)</strong></p>
<p><strong>And so what if you have faith in the Lord? You’re <em>supposed</em> to. That’s what good Christians do. Now, how about having a little faith in yourself? Instead of praying you get a certain job, how about working hard, studying hard, paying your dues, writing a knockout resume, preparing for the interview, showing up energized and looking sharp, and then <em>earning</em> the job by proving you’re the best person for the job. Then, after you get the job, you can pray that your boss’s dad didn’t get him his.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Faith in God brings inner peace and happiness to a lot of folks whose lives might otherwise feel empty and hopeless, so I can understand why good Christians are so prone to babbling endlessly about their faith. Whenever I have coffee and beignets at Café du Monde in the French Quarter of New Orleans, you can’t get me to shut up about it. And although I haven’t been to church in a long time, I’m guessing that a caffeine and sugar buzz has nothing on the Holy Spirit.</strong></p>
<p><strong>So although I understand it’s the responsibility of every good Christian to “testify,” what I don’t understand is why anyone with an ounce of self-respect wouldn’t feel ashamed to publicly credit the most powerful being known to man for helping him do things any normal, responsible human being should be able to accomplish on his own. Thanking God for curing your cancer? Check. Thanking God for keeping your children safe? Check. Thanking God that the utility company didn’t shut your lights off? Don’t thank God—thank the US Postal Service for delivering your check on time even though you waited until halfway through your five-day grace period to mail it in. (Then again, if the US Postal Service delivered your payment on time, then that is definitely a miracle—so go ahead and thank God after all.)</strong></p>
<p><strong>Yes, God does want you to find gainful employment so you can take care of yourself and your loved ones. But if you want God’s help finding a job, God has already given it to you: God created the person who created the person who created the person who created the person who created Linked-In. So log on, create an account, upload your résumé, and shut the hell up, for God’s sake!</strong></p>
<p><strong>Although it’s important to have a good relationship with God and have faith in the plan he has mapped out for you, it’s not going to hurt you to fight your own battles every once in a while. If God wanted to be your answer to everything he wouldn’t have created the person who created the person who created the person who created the person who created Google. To draw a comparison, although most of us need and crave the support of our parents and probably wouldn’t be where we are today without that love and support from our parents, there comes a time when we all have to stop having our parents support us, stop having our parents fight our battles for us and stop having our parents bail us out of trouble.</strong></p>
<p><strong>For me, that time will be next year on my 50<sup>th</sup> birthday.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Faith is not hard to understand. You love your Heavenly Father, your Heavenly Father loves you, and your Heavenly Father can fix anything because he is a master of space and time. That’s easy for me to relate to because I love my earthly father, my earthly father loves me, and my earthly father can fix anything because he has a Craftsman toolbox. And, if I were to get a flat tire and my earthly father offered to change it for me, I would love my earthly father even more, believe in him even more and be even more grateful that he is in my life. What I wouldn’t do is tell everyone I know that I let my <em>73-year-old daddy</em> change a tire for me.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Meaning, just because I love my dad, believe in my dad and receive strength from my dad doesn’t mean I still expect him to solve my problems for me or that I’m going to run crying to him every time something goes wrong in my life.</strong></p>
<p><strong>That’s what my mommy's for.</strong></p>
<p><strong>God help her.</strong></p>
<p></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong># # #</strong></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274552015-02-02T12:00:00-12:002023-12-06T20:04:10-12:00Obamacare for the Soul
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/96ac60bd8ec139d7410cfaa625f5ed2492bd3b98/original/halo.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzQ1eDIwNyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="207" width="345" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p><strong>The last time I told a Wal-Mart cashier to “have a nice day,” she responded with “God bless you.” Although I’m not religious, I smiled and said thank-you. My debit card wasn’t declined, so I figured her blessing had worked.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>Some might say it’s bad manners for a Christian to say “God bless you” to a nonbeliever. Personally, I think it’s worse manners to say “Have a nice day” to a cashier at Wal-Mart. That’s like saying, “Enjoy the Caribbean” to a detainee at Guantanamo Bay.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>I have one friend who gets all worked up whenever I say “God bless you” after he sneezes:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Achoo!”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“God bless you.”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you that ‘God bless you’ drives me nuts? Please use <em>gesundheit</em> instead.”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Why?”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Because I’m not a Christian, that’s why.”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“You’re not German either, yet you want me to say <em>gesundheit?"</em></strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Yeah, well, I’m against organized religion, not Germany.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“OK then, I won’t say ‘God bless you.’”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Achoo!”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>“<em>Hitler</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>bless you.”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>But why should a Christian consider my religious beliefs before saying “God bless you,” anyway? Do I consider a Wal-Mart cashier’s secular beliefs before saying “Have a nice day”? What if she’s a pessimist? Telling her to have a nice day could come off as arrogant or controlling. (And she gets enough of that already from "Skippy," her 19-year-old, GED-toting supervisor.) Or what if she’s clinically depressed? Telling a depressed person to have a nice day when she’s emotionally incapable of having a nice day will not only ruin her day; it might also deepen her depression. So maybe I should say something neutral instead, such as “Thank-you for your service” or “I hope you get hired at Target.”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>Although I’m no fan of organized religion, I’ve never understood why atheists get so bent out of shape when a good Christian says, “God bless you.” As a disillusioned Catholic, I don’t go to mass, I don’t pray much, and I certainly don’t read the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>Bible</em>, so, please, bless me all you want. If you’re not going to bless an emotionally stunted sinner who tells dookie jokes for a living, who <em>are </em>you going to bless?</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>It doesn’t even have to be a blessing from “God” God. You can say “<em>Allah</em> bless you,” “<em>Vishnu</em> bless you,” or “<em>Ron L. Hubbard </em>bless you,” for all I care. I may not be a practicing Christian, but I <em>am</em> a practicing liberal, so I’ll take all the entitlements I can get, including blessings from your or anyone’s God, whether He exists or not. Being healthy doesn’t stop me from needing health insurance so why should being skeptical keep me from needing faith insurance? The way I look at it, every time a religious person of any faith says “God bless you” to me, it’s Obamacare for the soul.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>Besides, the fact that I’m not a practicing Christian is precisely why I don’t mind “God bless you” as a greeting. Perhaps if I <em>were</em> a practicing Christian, maybe then I would mind:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p align="center"><strong>FELLOW CHRISTIAN:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p align="center"><strong>God bless you, brother.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p align="center"><strong>ME:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p align="center"><strong>What? You don’t think I have a good enough relationship with God myself that I need <em>your</em> help to attain His blessing? Me and the Lord are like are like <em>this</em>, pal—so go to Hell. And while you're down there, be sure to say <em>gesundheit </em>when Hitler sneezes. "God bless you" drives him nuts.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>So instead of getting angry when Christians say “God bless you,” I take it as the kind gesture is was meant to be and move on. Believe me, with a personality like mine, I get told “Screw<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>you” so often that “God bless you” is a nice change of pace.</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong># # #</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274532014-12-13T12:00:00-12:002023-04-03T05:33:26-12:00Deride the Lightning
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/06e1a6fc4d95050de1bef2ecdfcaf633b8c14ca3/original/homer.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6Mjc3eDI1NSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="255" width="277" /></p>
<p>Capital punishment is one of the most hotly debated and polarizing issues in America. For example, when Tennessee decided to bring back the electric chair earlier this year, liberal Tennesseans argued this might increase the number of innocent people on death row, whereas conservative Tennesseans argued this might increase their electric bills.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Oklahoma wants to abolish lethal injection because it’s not covered by Obamacare.</p>
<p>Oklahoma botched an execution by lethal injection several months ago. They used the wrong chemicals so it took about an hour to kill the guy. (In fact, while he waited, he had a new pair of glasses made at Lens Crafters.) But, although the media made a big deal out of it, I don’t think the guy they were executing really minded all that much:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>"No, really, take all the time you need. I’ve got nothing planned for the rest of the day. If you want, we can break for lunch and try this again in a couple of decades…."</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>The kicker is that the guy never got his last meal. Apparently, he requested steak with A-1 Sauce, shrimp salad, a baked potato and dessert. But since that meal would have cost more than $15, his request was denied. Call me a bleeding heart, but if we, as a society, are going to end the life of a fellow member of society, the least we can do is send an intern over to Applebee’s for some takeout. How better to help a convicted murderer learn the error of his ways than by showing him how wonderful life can be for $8.99 on Tuesdays and Thursdays? One basket of all-you-can-eat riblets before dying and even the most cold-blooded psychopath will realize that killing is a no-no.</p>
<p>One thing I’ve learned is that it’s totally useless to debate the death penalty with friends who support capital punishment. No matter what you say, they always have a knee-jerk response locked and loaded:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>“You know, the death penalty, both in the U.S. and around the world, is discriminatory and is used disproportionately against the poor, minorities and members of racial, ethnic and religious communities. Since humans are fallible, the risk of executing the innocent can never be eliminated.”</em></p>
<p><em>“It’s right there in the Bible: ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ Kill ‘em all and let God sort ‘em out!”</em></p>
<p><em>“Furthermore, the astronomical costs associated with putting a person on death row – including criminal investigations, lengthy trials and appeals – are leading many states to re-evaluate and re-consider having this flawed and unjust system on the books.”</em></p>
<p><em>“If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime!”</em></p>
<p><em>“Since 1973, over 130 people have been released from death rows throughout the country due to evidence of their wrongful convictions. In 2003 alone, 10 wrongfully convicted defendants were released from death row.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Yeah, well, I just saved a ton of money on my car insurance!”</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>When it comes to the death penalty, I consider myself both a conservative and a liberal: I’m for the electric chair but only if it’s solar powered.</p>
<p>I’m kidding. Truth be told, I’m no fan of the death penalty; because, the longer I live and work on a cruise ship, the more <em>I</em> want to kill somebody.</p>
<p>They say that the death penalty is a deterrent to murder. But if anything should be a deterrent to murder it’s plain ol’ prison. In prison, you're forced to go "number two" in the middle of a tiny cell, on that metal prison toilet, with no privacy whatsoever. I don’t care how badly you want somebody dead; all it should take to stop you from pulling the trigger is to picture yourself dropping a deuce with a big, bald Aryan ape with a dragon tattooed to his head staring you down as you nervously try to wipe. Anytime you find yourself compelled to act-out some ultra-violent adolescent, woe-is-me revenge fantasy, just dial up that bowel-tightening scenario in your noggin and you’ll immediately switch to envisioning a better tomorrow, wherein you buy the whole world a Coke and teach it to sing in perfect harmony.</p>
<p>Okay, let's say the death penalty can deter <em>premeditated</em> murder. But then what about crimes of passion? Who’s thinking of the death penalty in the heat of the moment?:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>“Yo, play-a! You stole my cocaine, you burned down my drug lab, and you blew up my Escalade!” I should kill you, but I don’t want Al Sharpton to be disappointed in me when they fry me like a catfish at the church social!””</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>For those of you that think the preceding joke is racist because I made the criminal’s dialogue read like some clichéd African-American stereotype, allow me to rewrite the passage, this time making him sound like some clichéd white-trash stereotype:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>“Hey, boy! You stole my moonshine, you burned down my still, and you blew up my El Camino! I should kill you, but I don’t want Nancy Grace to say mean stuff about me after they fry me like a funnel cake at the state fair!”</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>While we’re at it, let’s piss off some Hispanic-Americans:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>“Yo, Holmes! You stole my Chiclets, you burned down my taco stand and you blew up my donkey! I should kill you, but I don’t want George Lopez to make bad jokes about me after they fry me like a churro at a flea market!”</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>And let’s not forget Gay-Americans:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>”You bad boy! You stole my Lady Ga-Ga CD’s, you burned down my walk-in-closet shrine to Neil Patrick Harris, and you blew up my powder-blue Prius. I should kill you but I don’t want to end up on death row with a bunch of sweaty, horny men. On second thought, maybe I WILL kill you—BANG-BANG!”</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>The reason why I think capital punishment doesn’t deter murder is that murder doesn’t seem to deter crappy human behavior. The world is filled with hair-triggered psychopaths who could kill us in a blink of an eye, yet we continue to flip off others in traffic, steal parking spots at the mall, cut in line at the supermarket, talk and text in movie theaters, stiff waiters, cheat on lovers, and angrily tell panhandlers to “get a job!”</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>“Excuse me, brother, can you spare some change for something to eat?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Get a job, you lazy bum.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Careful—I could have a gun.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Yeah, well, if you can afford a gun, then you can afford a sandwich.”</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>Can you imagine how cool it would be if people stopped treating others like crap just because they were afraid to be murdered?</p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>“Harold, I can’t believe you just tipped our waiter twenty percent for a change.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Beats getting stabbed in the neck with a fork, sweetheart.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Oh, come now, Harold. That nice young man would never do something like that. Who wants to spend the rest of his life pooping on a prison toilet?"</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align: center;"># # #</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274522014-11-30T12:00:00-12:002023-12-06T20:05:40-12:00Gun Nuts and Love Guns
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/6a6dd4389df648d3764acd79d9b766eba58c5e4c/original/gun-nuts-and-love-guns.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6Mjg2eDE3NiJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="176" width="286" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong>Although I’m a meat eater, I’m neither a gun owner nor a hunter. I’m not against killing defenseless animals; I’m against getting up at 5:00 am to do it:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<blockquote>
<p> "<em>Hey, Jeff—how about we get up at the crack of dawn, freeze our butts off and shoot at some deer?"</em></p>
<p><em> "</em><em>I’ve got a better idea: How about you leave me an assault rifle with a high-capacity magazine and I’ll sleep till noon, brew some coffee, scarf some Crunch Berries and then get all “Scarface” on the neighbor’s poodle that’ll be yapping its damn head off all morning?"</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>And although I love my country, I’m embarrassed by our incessant, ridiculous quarreling over gun laws and same-sex unions. America is so behind the times. There isn’t one licensed dentist in all of Great Britain and yet their Parliament is progressive enough to make gun ownership difficult (Wanna kill somebody? Start a soccer riot!) and gay marriage legal. (God save the queens!)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Two of the most polarizing issues in American politics are gun rights and gay rights. Gun nuts won’t let you have their gun until you “pry it from their cold dead fingers,” and I’m pretty sure gay men feel the same way about something else.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>I feel about gay rights the same way I feel about gun rights: Do what you want; just don’t point that thing at me. I have no desire to own a gun and I have no desire to have sex with a man. I would, however, buy a gun if that’s what it takes to keep me from having sex with a man.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>I just wish that flag-waving fans of the Second Amendment would show a little more concern for the Constitutional rights of <em>all</em> Americans:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<blockquote>
<p> "<em>America is the land of freedom! Except for Muslims and butt pirates! Nobody’s gonna tell me how to live my life—hey, fella, don’t you dare marry that fella! Nobody’s going to tell me what god to pray to—hey, Akbar, don’t you dare build that mosque next to my church! Nobody’s gonna tell my woman how she can dress—hey, babe, lose the burka so I can see some boobies!"</em></p>
<p><em> "</em><em>Congratulations, Skeeter, you just put the 'dumb' in 'free-dumb'.”</em></p>
<p><em> "</em><em>But, Jeff, the Bible says Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve."</em></p>
<p><em> "</em><em>Yeah, well, the Second Amendment says muskets, not Uzis."</em></p>
<p><em> "</em><em>But the Second Amendment gives me the right to bear arms!"</em></p>
<p><em> "</em><em>Then wear a tank top, you homophobic hick! (Bare arms—get it? Hee-haw!)"</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>If you’re a gun-toting patriot who wants to fight for your rights, then stand up and fight. But then, when you’re done, sit down and shut up while glitter-throwing Americans fight for their rights. You can’t be both <em>for</em> gun rights and <em>against</em> gay rights. The Second Amendment or Proposition 8—pick one and stick the other up your butt. (Don’t worry, that won’t make you gay.)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<blockquote>
<p> <em>But, Jeff, the thought of two men having sex is disgusting.</em></p>
<p><em> </em><em>Then stop thinking about it! Just because you find gay sex disgusting doesn’t mean you have the right to stop same-sex couples from getting married. Hell, my fiancée finds straight sex with me disgusting and yet we’re still allowed to marry.</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Just because I’m for gay marriage doesn’t mean I enjoy the company of gay people. In fact, I find most homosexuals rather annoying. Gay men annoy me because I sound gayer than they do, and gay women annoy me because I look gayer than they do.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>And just because I don’t have the right to discriminate against or harass my fellow Americans based on their sexual preferences doesn’t mean I can’t exercise my First Amendment rights to joke about how much flamboyantly gay people irritate the hell out of me. I can say what I want just as long as I don’t use homophobic slurs, such as “homo,” “queer” or “Clay Aiken.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>For example, the other day, a gay colleague of mine, whom I both like and respect, comes sliding down the banister of a crew area staircase, lands at my feet, and then proceeds to swish around, snap his fingers, do little showgirl kicks and sing:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>It’s raining men / It’s raining men / </em><em>Hallelujah / It's raining men </em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>I hate it when my gay friends act like that around me. Because, for the rest of the day, I found myself swishing around, snapping my fingers, doing little showgirl kicks, and singing:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<blockquote>
<p><em>It’s raining men / It’s raining men / </em><em>Hallelujah / It's raining men </em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Hey—gay or straight, a catchy number is a catchy number.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>America is a great country. But I think we could be even greater. The thing that’s supposed to be so great about America is we’re supposed to be able to criticize our country without the fear of being punished for our opinions. Yet, the more a patriotic a person claims to be, the angrier he becomes when you exercise your freedom of speech as an American. Of course, the less somebody respects your opinions, the more pointless it is to argue with him:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<blockquote>
<p><em> </em><em>“America’s the greatest country in the world! Yee haw!”</em></p>
<p><em> </em><em>“Actually, we lag behind in many areas, such as education, healthcare and treatment of our war veterans. In fact, Canada is ahead of us in all three.”</em></p>
<p><em> </em><em>“Well, if you don’t like it here, then why don’t you move to Canada?”</em></p>
<p><em> </em><em>“Because I’m a homophobic, gun-toting American – they don’t want me!"</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p><em> </em>I hate to sound like a broken record but if gun nuts think that freedom is what makes America so great and so different, then why don’t they think it’s great when their fellow Americans exercise their freedom to be different? I would love to see that, wouldn’t you?</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<blockquote>
<p><em> </em><em>“Hey, Timmy. Whaddya say we get liquored up and go on down to that Gay Pride parade with our shotguns?”</em></p>
<p><em> </em><em>“Hell yeah, Bobby. We can blast the hell out of anyone who threatens those glitter-throwing Nancy boys with physical harm while they’re marching up and down Main Street in defense of their civil liberties as tax-paying Americans.”</em></p>
<p><em> </em><em>“True dat, Timmy. This is America; we have to be tolerant of one another or else we’re no better than Russia. Vladimir Putin banned homosexuals from the Winter Olympics and he’s a socialist, right?”</em></p>
<p><em>“</em><em>Damn right, Bobby. And if everyone on the right in this country is so against socialism, and Vladimir Putin is a homophobic socialist, that means anyone who’s against civil rights for gay people is not only a homophobe but also a dog-gone socialist. So if socialism is wrong, then so is homophobia in the so-called ‘Land of the Free’.”</em></p>
<p><em> </em><em>“Know what, Timmy? I get turned on when you start talking all logical and stuff and, you know, showing love and respect for your fellow human beings just like it says in the Bible even if their values and lifestyle choices differ from your own. Hell, Timmy, maybe you and I should try being homosexuals sometime.”</em></p>
<p><em> </em><em>“Aw, shucks, Bobby, I ain’t no butt ranger. But if it’ll help win the war against socialism, hell, I guess I can polish a knob or two for America—yee-haw!”</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Why do opponents of gay marriage always seem so obsessed with gay behavior? It’s a little homoerotic, if you ask me. For example, the other, day a straight man wearing a leather vest with both an American flag and an NRA patch on it told me that he was against same-sex marriage because it’s a sin against nature (much like the grey, over-60 pony tail he was sporting). He then started playing one of those hypothetical question games with me:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>“Tell me, Fun Dude,” he said. “If a gay millionaire offered you a million dollars—in cash, tax free—to sleep with him, would you do it?”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>“No way,” I replied. “I’m not falling for that again.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274512014-11-06T12:00:00-12:002022-05-08T21:15:31-12:00Fun as Ship
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/bf4ff41aac703bb9ff85307703f83238c796c6a1/original/dream.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDk3eDE2NSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="165" width="497" /></p>
<p>Most cruise ships offer lots of fun-filled activities such as Bingo, shuffleboard and trivia. Granted, these are things you can do at your local senior center for free. But on a cruise you can win prizes. And nothing says “I’m a better person than the rest of you old farts” like going home with a suitcase full of plastic “ship-on-a-stick” trophies valued at twenty cents apiece.</p>
<p>But if you’re too busy establishing your intellectual superiority over your fellow passengers by taking first place in “TV Theme Song Trivia,” you might miss out on some more satisfying cruising experiences (such as “Movie Theme Song Trivia”). So here are some tips for getting the most out of your next cruise:</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">1. Attend the shopping talk.</strong></p>
<p>The Shopping Talk is a brief (six to eight hours) seminar given by your shipboard shopping specialist “Chet,” who will provide you with valuable pointers for shopping in your ports of call. Pointers such as:</p>
<ul>
<li>Only shop in an “approved” store so you’ll get the best deal possible—and Chet will get a commission, a bonus, and a hot oil massage with a happy ending.</li>
<li>Never shop in an “unapproved” store because you’ll be kidnapped by Somali pirates and/or ISIS.</li>
</ul>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;"> 2. Choose the buffet over the dining room.</strong></p>
<p>You can’t go wrong eating in one of your ship’s fancy dining rooms, where you can feast on steak, lobster, fine wine and exotic deserts; however, the high-quality food and superior service may cause you to relax and enjoy yourself (even though you’ll be expected to wear shoes). And since finding things to complain about makes cruising much more enjoyable, you’ll be better off heading up to Lido Deck where you can fight your way through the gluttonous throng in your bare feet. Besides, later on, when you’re down at the front desk complaining about the long lines and limited selection in the buffet restaurant, not to mention the fact that you paid good money for this cruise yet nobody from the Miami offices ever called and advised you to pack footwear for formal night, the Guest Services associate on the business end of your vitriol will be more likely to offer you financial compensation if you have chili-dog breath.</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">3. Camp out in the casino.</strong></p>
<p>Screw Las Vegas; spend as much time and money in the ship’s casino as possible. Cruise-ship slot machines are looser than a biker chick with a meth habit. Especially on my cruise line. In fact, you’re going to need a duffle bag to haul all those shiny silver dollars back to your cabin. And I’m not just saying that because the more money my cruise line makes off of delusional chain-smoking gambling addicts like you, the better chance I have of getting a raise.</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">4. Luxuriate in the all-ages hot tubs.</strong></p>
<p>What better way to relax on a luxury cruise liner overrun by unsupervised eight-year-olds than with a nice hot urine bath?!</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">5. Book an interior stateroom.</strong></p>
<p>Sure, you can spend the extra money for a balcony or at least a porthole if you want, but cruising is so much more adventurous and exciting when you cram your entire family into a tiny windowless cabin the size of your kitchen pantry at home. You’ll never know what time of day it is when you wake up, and the lack of fresh air with five people in the room will keep things interesting. And, better yet, you’ll be that much more excited about reaching the Bahamas.</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">6. Rent a mobility scooter.</strong></p>
<p>Why should old folks with bad knees have all the fun? Rent a scooter for your cruise and skip to the front of every line. Crew members will take pity on you and wave you past the long parade of upright losers waiting to be seated for dinner or a production show, without so much as a second glance. Thankfully, it will never occur to them that the last person who needs to be advanced to the front of a line is someone who is—wait for it… SITTING ON A MOVING CHAIR!</p>
<p>What does it matter if Grandma has to wait a few extra minutes to sit down for dinner or a show if she’s <em>already sitting down?! </em>Allowing someone to cut in front of you because they have a scooter is like trading your seats behind home plate with somebody in the bleachers because he has binoculars hanging around his neck (or something like that only funnier).</p>
<p>So rent a scooter. You’ll get special treatment <em>and</em> you can zip around the ship drunk, running into stuff and knocking over people with actual mobility problems.</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">7. Use your cell phone as much as possible.</strong></p>
<p>If there’s someone in your family whom you couldn’t afford to bring along on your cruise, be sure to call them every day that you’re at sea. The amount you’ll rack up in roaming charges will make it seem like you paid their way.</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">8. Book a cruise with one or more “tender ports.”</strong></p>
<p>When a port lacks a pier big enough to accommodate cruise ships, it’s what we call a tender port. A tender is a boat that takes you from the ship to the island in the time it would take you to swim. Tendering is lots of fun because you get to wake up early, report to one of the ship’s lounges with hundreds of other tired and impatient guests, and wait for hours on end watching CNN on the big screen with the sound off (so you can hear all the screeching babies and screaming toddlers sprawled out around you) until you decide to jump overboard and swim ashore.</p>
<p>Once on the island, you’ll be free to slouch around in the scorching heat for ten minutes trying to find a discount T-shirt shop with functioning air conditioning until you finally realize that you’re in a third-world country that doesn’t really have all that much to see or do so you might as well get in line for a tender back to the ship, where you can be laughed at by all the experienced cruisers who stayed on board.</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">9. Purchase a shore excursion from a local vendor not in any way associated or affiliated with your cruise line so that you can either miss your non-refundable tour due to the ship arriving late or miss the ship after your tour ends because the bus carrying you back to the pier is ambushed by guerrilla fighters.</strong></p>
<p>Fun times!</p>
<p><strong style="font-size: large;">10. Complain. Complain. Complain.</strong></p>
<p>If you really want to have fun on your cruise, don’t spend your days laying out by the pool or relaxing at the bar. Instead, make frequent trips down to Guest Services and complain about anything that comes to mind. If your complaints are inventive enough, the ship’s Guest Services associates will often offer you financial compensation just to shut you up. If you’re unlucky enough to cruise on an awesome ship like mine, however, you’ll be hard-pressed to find many legitimate issues to complain about. In that case, here are a half dozen doozies to get you started:</p>
<ul>
<li>“The sound of the ocean keeps me up at night. Can you turn it off?”</li>
<li>“My cabin doesn’t look the same as the photo on your website. That cabin had blue carpet; mine has red. Can you please make the switch while I'm upstairs in the ship's gift shop complaining about merchandise I bought on land?"</li>
<li>“It’s too hot on the open decks. Can you ask the Captain to turn on the air conditioning outside?”</li>
<li>“It’s too long of a walk between decks. Can you shorten your stairs?”</li>
<li>“The midnight buffet is too late at night. Can you reschedule it for noon?”</li>
<li>“I hate discos and disco music. Yet every time I go into the disco all I hear is disco music. Can I have a free cruise?”</li>
</ul>
<p>So there you go. Use my tips and your next cruise is guaranteed to be your best vacation ever.</p>
<p>If not, you can always walk the plank. Make a big enough splash and you just might win a prize.</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274502014-10-21T12:00:00-12:002023-12-06T20:07:17-12:00Heckler Skelter
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/c71aaf70ad124ba2034dbc4ce9f20198cf9489fc/original/hecklers.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzI4eDI4NiJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="286" width="328" /></p>
<p><strong>Repeat after me: Heckling does <em>not</em> help a stand-up comedy show!</strong></p>
<p><strong>To get an idea of how <em>unhelpful</em> hecklers are, imagine if you were forced to read the above sentence while trying to read something else for pleasure. Let’s say, a Dan Brown novel:</strong></p>
<p><strong><em>“That’s it,” thought Langdon. “The answer was right in front of me the whole time. If one translates Beowulf from the old English into Portuguese using a code key hidden in the original handwritten lyrics of Francis Scott Keyes’ ‘Star Spangled Banner’, then the name ‘Grendel’ changes to ‘Dick Cheney’, which means the murderer has to be…” </em>–Repeat after me: Heckling does not <em>help</em> a comedy show!</strong></p>
<p><strong>See how frustrating that was? Just before you could confirm your hunch that George W. Bush is the scion of Jesus of Nazareth, hell bent on destroying the Catholic Church so that he can paint over Michelangelo’s work on the Sistine Chapel with a giant portrait of himself dodging a flying shoe thrown at him by a rogue Iraqi assassin as revenge for the time he tried stealing the original Declaration of Independence as an initiation prank for the Skull and Bones Society in an attempt to uncover the conspiracy to murder General Patton, who was actually a high-ranking secret member of the Free Masons, the Druids <em>and </em>the Illuminati—I had to go and ruin it by thinking that what I have to say is more important or entertaining than the carefully written and edited prose of the bestselling author you paid good money to read during your valuable free time.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Why? Because I’m disrespectful and self-centered. And a member of the Illuminati.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Although the average headliner can make crushing a drunken redneck under an avalanche of well-rehearsed stock lines look easy and fun, as well as therapeutic, comedians don’t <em>need</em> hecklers to <em>help</em> them get laughs.</strong></p>
<p><strong>That’s what <em>jokes</em> are for. Jokes: you know, those things comedians write and perform every day for a minimum of five years before becoming a paid professional?</strong></p>
<p><strong>Hecklers always think they’re helping the show. Sometimes, they even feel as if they <em>are</em> the show. Unfortunately, hecklers want to be part of the show without putting in any of the hard work required to <em>prepare, produce </em>or<em> promote</em> the show. Most hecklers are so egotistical they actually think that the interplay between themselves and the comedian is somehow superior to the material the comedian has spent the past decade or so honing.</strong></p>
<p><strong>I don’t spend hours at the computer perfecting a piece of material just so an audience member who shows up five minutes late to a show can interrupt me and force me to make fun of the lime-green tank top he’s wearing on Formal Night just so he can feel like a superstar for the rest of the cruise every time somebody yells, “Hey, look it’s ‘Lime-Green Tank Top Boy’!”</strong></p>
<p><strong>We comics don’t slam hecklers in order to get laughs; we slam hecklers in order to embarrass them into silence so we can get on with our acts. Problem is most hecklers have a simplistic sense of humor. So, when a comedian whips up a witty comeback right off the top of his head, what most comics would consider a run-of-the-mill heckler slam comes across as pure comedy gold to the heckler. Therefore, the heckler reasons that in order for a comedian to drop the boring crap and start with the real jokes you have to heckle—or <em>help</em>—him. This reasoning is illogical because it totally ignores the opinions and preferences of the other three hundred people who paid to see the show. Without having any affiliation with the comedy club other than clipping a free coupon out of the newspaper, the average heckler decides that he knows what’s best for both the comedian onstage and the rest of the audience. The product of a perfect blend of narcissism and Long Island Iced Tea.</strong></p>
<p><strong>If heckling is so integral to an act's success, then why don’t comedy clubs audition hecklers and book them six months in advance just like comedians? When was the last time you walked into an Improv or a Funny Bone and saw a poster that advertised: “Tonight: Marc Maron! With special guest: ‘Some drunken redneck in a Nickelback T-shirt’ ”?</strong></p>
<p><strong>Once a heckler opens his mouth, the show's focus transfers from the performer onstage to a member of the audience who may or may not have paid to be there. Most people who pay to see a comedy show do so because they’re either a fan of stand-up comedy in general or a fan of a specific comedian:</strong></p>
<p><strong>“Jim Gaffigan is coming to the Civic Theater next month. I love that guy—let’s go online and buy tickets... (so we can sit in the front row and shout, ‘Hot Pockets’ every five seconds until Jim throws the microphone at us before running offstage to put his head in a microwave oven).”</strong></p>
<p><strong>Nobody who buys a ticket to a comedy show is paying to see the <em>audience</em>:</strong></p>
<p><strong>“Gee, I hope that same drunken redneck in the Nickelback T-shirt who heckled Brian Regan at the Hard Rock Casino last month shows up at the Jim Gaffigan show tonight. His non-sequiturs about Bud Light and bass fishing were way funnier than anything two of the best joke writers in North America who make millions in ticket sales every year have to say. Better yet, I hope there’s a loudmouthed bachelorette party sitting front row center. I pray that, as soon as Jim launches into a hilarious bit about how much money he spends on groceries every month feeding a family of six, some barely coherent bachelorette does one too many shots of tequila and tells Jim straight up how unfunny he his. That way he can abandon the material he’s spent the past year perfecting in order to make some hysterical, off-the-cuff comparisons between plantains and the giant penis hat that demure flower is wearing.</strong></p>
<p><strong>"Now <em>that’s </em>comedy, cousin!”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong> # # #</strong></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274492014-10-08T12:00:00-12:002014-10-09T09:44:49-12:00Shut Up and Laugh!
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/eb7377a959bd533dca89595965911fd8faa7240c/original/no-talking.png/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MTYxeDE1OSJd.png" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="159" width="161" /></p>
<p><strong>My main duty as a comedy club manager is to monitor table talk and heckling during a show. The reason “policing the room” is so important is because stand-up comedy is a delicate art form. In fact, the only thing more delicate than stand-up comedy is the ego of a tipsy redneck who thinks stand-up comedy is neither delicate nor an art form. That means I constantly have to be on the lookout for potential disturbances that can interfere with a comedian’s performance. A skilled comedian’s punchlines are so precisely timed that distracting him for even a second can cause the funniest joke in his act to become painfully unfunny and then, before you know it, Larry the Cable Guy’s doing it on TV.</strong></p>
<p><strong>They say that dying is hard but comedy is harder. Harder still is trying to get cruise ship passengers to shut the hell up for half an hour. The difference between a well-rehearsed joke killing or dying can be caused by the slightest change in the inflection or pronunciation of a single word in the setup or punchline. Believe it or not, a comic can’t concentrate on the nuances of delivery if his inner technician is being drowned out by a bachelorette party seated ten feet from the stage arguing over who has the classiest tramp stamp.</strong></p>
<p><strong>So it’s my job to go from table to table begging the self-centered and inebriated to act like grown-ups for thirty short minutes. But, on a cruise ship, where guests have paid a pretty penny for the privilege of being obnoxiously drunk in public, getting them to give their respect and attention to a professional entertainer is sometimes a mission even “The Expendables” would turn down.</strong></p>
<p><strong>That’s why the average audience member gets defensive when I shush them. Rarely does anyone ever apologize for getting caught up in the moment and not realizing how loud they’re being. Rarely does anybody say, “Oh, I’m sorry. This is my first time in a comedy club. So when I heard your offstage announcement asking me to keep my table talk to a minimum, I thought you were joking. And so when the comedian onstage told me to pipe down and the entire room erupted into thunderous applause, I thought <em>he</em> was joking. And so when the table of half-deaf blue-hairs in front of me turned around, screamed ‘Shut the @#$% up!’ and started pelting my abnormally sloped forehead with gin-drenched ice cubes, I thought <em>they</em> were a geriatric flash mob. It never occurred to me that I’m not actually supposed to chit-chat at full volume while others are trying to enjoy a professional comedy show. Thank you, sir, for inspiring me to become a better—and quieter—person. I beg you to reach deep within your heart and find the mercy to forgive me for breaking the unwritten social contract of “he talk, me listen” which has existed between a boat act and his audience since time immemorial. Now may I please have a glass of water to take my lithium with?”</strong></p>
<p><strong>Actually, nobody <em>ever</em> says <em>that.</em></strong></p>
<p><strong>Instead, they say: “What do you <em>mean</em> I <em>can’t talk</em> in a <em>comedy club</em>? Oh, so only the <em>comedian</em> is allowed to talk, is that right? I’ve never heard of that before. What is your name<em>, </em>sir? I’m going to have you hung, drawn and quartered for ruining my cruise and scarring my soul with your unreasonable and unthinkable demand for silence during a live presentation in a theatrical setting! How about crying—is <em>crying</em> OK in a comedy club? Because that’s what I feel like doing now that you've embarrassed me in front of my equally drunk and inconsiderate friends by politely and gently reminding me of a policy you clearly mentioned a dozen times in your preshow announcements!”</strong></p>
<p><strong>Although I can understand somebody not knowing how to behave in a comedy club, what I can’t understand is how a grown adult can argue with somebody who works someplace about something only a person who works at that place can possibly know anything about. I was raised Catholic. Not once did I have to take off my shoes or put on a yarmulke upon entering my church. Therefore, it wouldn't occur to me to take off my shoes before entering a Buddhist temple, just as it wouldn't occur to me to put on a yarmulke before entering a Jewish synagogue. But even though I’m not a religious person anymore, I wouldn't think twice about losing my shoes or wearing a yarmulke upon entering another’s house of worship. I’m a guest on their turf and, therefore, good manners dictate that I respect their traditions and customs without question. You’ll never hear me say to a rabbi, “Sorry, dude, but I put a five-dollar bill in the collection box before entering, so that means I <em>paid</em> to be here, Chuck. And since the customer is always right, I’ll waltz into this dump wearing a Nazi helmet and a Speed-o if I want to. A man wearing a yarmulke in a synagogue? I’ve never heard of that before.”</strong></p>
<p><strong>Policing the room is normally much easier in a land-based comedy club. At my home club, Hilarities 4<sup>th</sup> Street Comedy Theater @ Pickwick & Frolic, in downtown Cleveland, there’s always a showroom manager and anywhere from two to six ushers in the showroom at any given time. The moment customers start heckling or chatting too loudly, Usher #1 goes over and says something. If the behavior continues, it’s Usher #2’s turn. If that doesn’t work, the showroom manager asks one more time—very politely—for the customers to settle down, sometimes handing them a business-card-sized note explaining the club’s No Talking / No Heckling policy. If that doesn’t work, the showroom manager radios for backup in the form of an off-duty uniformed policeman, who then escorts the guests out of the showroom. The guests then have their choice to continue their conversation out in the martini bar or upstairs in the restaurant. If, however, they give the cop a hard time, they can continue their conversation in the back of a squad car.</strong></p>
<p><strong>In the Punchliner, on the cruise ship I've called home for the past five years, it’s just me. What the showroom manager, doorman, ushers and off-duty police officers at Hilarities do in unison, I do all by myself.</strong></p>
<p><strong>The only thing I <em>don’t</em> do is put talkers into the back of a squad car.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Instead, I just throw them overboard.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Getting thrown overboard for talking during a comedy show? I bet you never heard of <em>that </em>before.</strong></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274542014-07-26T12:00:00-12:002015-01-25T05:01:31-12:00Sinking the Love Boat
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/17df12b355d69c3bc995616762d74acf1ef29ad7/original/love-boat.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6Mjc1eDE4NCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="184" width="275" /></p>
<p></p>
<p>The only thing harder than making a relationship work is making a relationship work at sea. There are lot less outlet malls in the Caribbean, which means a woman will stay mad at you longer.</p>
<p>Some guests and crew refer to our ship as “The Love Boat.” Unfortunately, one cruise isn’t going to help you if your relationship is in trouble. Because once a woman has it in her mind that you’re a selfish a-hole, nothing you do or say will convince her otherwise.</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“I can’t justify buying myself this Coach bag. It’s too expensive.”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“The let me buy it for you. In fact, nothing would make me happier.”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Oh, so it’s about <em>your</em> happiness now, is it? Who cares if it makes <em>me </em>happy as long as it makes <em>you</em> happy, is that right?”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“No, if I wanted to make myself happy, I’d buy you <em>two</em> Coach bags and fill them both with Midol.”</p>
<p>How would women like it if men acted this way?</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Nothing would make me happier than to buy you this Craftsman tool set for your birthday.”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Of course it would make <em>you </em>happy. That way you could ask me to fix more crap around the house when I’m trying to watch the damn ballgame.”</p>
<p>Another challenging aspect of relationships is every woman has a knack for making her man fell “damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” She’ll say something like, “You used to be so romantic—how come you never buy me flowers anymore?”</p>
<p>So then he’ll come home with a dozen roses only to have her say, “Yeah? Well, you just did that because I told you to.”</p>
<p>Again, how would women like it if men pulled that crap?</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Will you marry me?”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Yes.”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Yeah, well you’re just saying that because I asked you. If you really wanted to marry me, I wouldn’t have to propose.”</p>
<p>One of the biggest misconceptions about men is that we’re afraid of marriage. We aren’t afraid of marriage. We’re afraid of divorce.</p>
<p align="center">MINISTER:</p>
<p align="center">“Do you promise to take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife, and to love and cherish until death do you part?”</p>
<p align="center">GROOM:</p>
<p align="center">“I do.”</p>
<p align="center">MINISTER:</p>
<p align="center">“But if <em>she</em> stops loving and cherishing <em>you,</em> do you promise to continue to financially support her while she sleeps with somebody else who makes more money than you in the house you’re still paying for?”</p>
<p align="center">GROOM:</p>
<p align="center">“Oh, hell yeah, Reverend—slice me off a piece of <em>that!”</em></p>
<p>How eager do you think women would be to get married if divorce laws favored men?”</p>
<p align="center">MINISTER:</p>
<p align="center">“Do you promise to take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”</p>
<p align="center">BRIDE:</p>
<p align="center">“I do.”</p>
<p align="center">MINISTER:</p>
<p align="center">“And should you decide to divorce him for any reason, do you promise to do cook and clean for him—as well as do the nasty with him—once a month as party of his ‘man alimony’?”</p>
<p align="center">BRIDE:</p>
<p align="center">“Help!! Oprah!! Help!!</p>
<p>If you ask me, the biggest obstacle to a successful marriage is opposing worldviews between the sexes. Women view their wedding day as the ending to their very own fairytale, whereas men view their wedding day as the beginning of Real Life.”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“I’m going to live happily ever after!”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“I’m going to be in financial debt for the rest of my life!”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“We’re going to make beautiful babies together and dress them up in adorable little outfits!”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“The cost of raising a child to adulthood is a quarter of a million dollars!”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“We’ll be living in a storybook romance!”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“We’ll do it once a year on my birthday, if I’m lucky!”</p>
<p>I think both sexes would be better prepared for marriage, if were better at articulating our expectations.</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Will you marry me?”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Of course I will!”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Okay, so now that I’ve proven my love by giving you what I want, I expect you to back off and give me my space so I can live my life with a minimum of emotional drama.”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Okay, but now that you’ve proven your love by giving me what I want, I expect you to give me what I want every single day of my life, even though what I want will constantly change, so you’ll have to read my mind, because I’m not going to tell you what I want, because you’re supposed to know what I want, and if you don’t know what I want, that’ll mean I married the wrong man, and then I’ll want a <em>divorce</em>.”</p>
<p>Another frustrating thing about relationships is most women expect their men to read their minds.</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“What would you like for your birthday, Sweetheart?”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“I shouldn’t have to <em>tell</em> you what I want; you should <em>know </em>what I want.”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Okay, how about these emerald earrings?”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“But I don’t like emeralds. Green isn’t my color.”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“How was I supposed to know that?”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“You could have asked.”</p>
<p>Men have such a hard time understanding women; it’s as if women speak their own language. The only way men are ever going to understand women is if the makers of Rosetta Stone language learning software come up with “Rosetta Stone: Female”:</p>
<p><em>I’m cooking your favorite dish for dinner tonight. Translation: </em>“I spent a shitload of money at the mall today.”</p>
<p><em>The wallpaper in the kitchen is starting to look faded. Translation:</em> “Your weekend is shot—Home Depot, here we come!”</p>
<p><em>“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” </em>The proper response?“Sure, Sweetheart, I’ll gladly run to the store for you—Stay Free or Playtex?”</p>
<p>The weird thing about bad relationships is that they are completely avoidable. Everything we need to know about how and why a relationship will fail is staring us right in the face whenever we first start dating someone. But when we’re lonely and desperate, we choose to ignore those red flags.</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Well, we could just go to your place and watch a movie. Do you have Netflix?”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Naw, they make you sign up for Netflix and I’m just not ready for that level of commitment. Besides, where am I going to find eight bucks a month?”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“In that case, why don’t we just fool around on the couch?”</p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Okay, but we have to be careful not to wake up my parents.”</p>
<p>What we need is an i-Phone app that’ll catch the red flags for us. Install “Red Flags Mobile” on your i-Phone and Siri becomes our guardian angel:</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Did you just flirt with our waitress?”</p>
<p align="center">SIRI:</p>
<p align="center"><em>“Careful, Michael. You are having dinner with a psycho bitch.”</em></p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“I just moved in with my sister and her family. But it’s only temporary while I get my own catering company up and running.”</p>
<p align="center">SIRI:</p>
<p align="center"><em>“Careful, Debbie. This loser is looking for a sugar mama to support him while he spends his worker’s comp settlement at the Indian casino.”</em></p>
<p>When planning to get married, men have a tendency to view marriage as a business partnership. This can take the romance right out of an engagement for women.</p>
<p align="center"> </p>
<p align="center">MAN:</p>
<p align="center">“If we want to get married, we’ll have to have a nice place to live. If we want a nice place to live, we’ll have to save money. If we want to save money, we’ll have to build solid careers. If we want to build solid careers, we’ll have to further our educations. If we want to further our educations, we’ll have to take out student loans. So if we want to get married, we’ll have to postpone the considerable expenditures of a wedding and a honeymoon until we have a nice place to live, have solid careers and have paid off our student loans. What do <em>you</em> think, Sweetheart?”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Well, when you put it that way, I feel like a princess in my very own fairytale. So thanks for sweeping me off my feet, Prince A-hole!”</p>
<p>Although women hate this goal-driven worldview, if we men viewed marriage the same way women do, they would want nothing to do with us.</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Okay, you’re the man—start planning our life together.”</p>
<p align="center">“What’s to plan? Let’s just go into debt by having a big fancy wedding with all of our friends and family, and then watch all of our financial problems be miraculously solved by your magical white wedding dress and drunken line dances with all your giggly bridesmaids. I’ll get a job working the Jamocha Shake machine at Arby’s and you can catsit for eight bucks an hour and we’ll live in a rented RV in the Wal-Mart -parking lot. Who needs plans when we’ve got love, Baby?”</p>
<p align="center">WOMAN:</p>
<p align="center">“Yeah? Well, I think I’d rather kiss Katy Perry and see if I like it.”</p>
<p>A friend of mine recently got divorced for the second time. First he lost his house, then he lost his car. I’m jealous: I’m 48 years old and I don’t own a house or a car and I would love to have two crazy women to blame my crappy standard of living on.</p>
<p>“Dude, where’s your house?”</p>
<p>“My first wife has it.”</p>
<p>“Dude, where’s your car?”</p>
<p>“My second wife has it?”</p>
<p>“Dude, where are your balls?”</p>
<p>“Joint custody.”</p>
<p>Knowing how to compromise is the most valuable relationship skill. Problem is men and women have different ideas of what it means to compromise. For a man, compromise means, “I want to do this and you want to do that so why don’t we do a little of this and then do a little of that?”</p>
<p>For a woman, compromise means: “I want to do this and you want to do that, so why don’t you go do that with those stupid a-hole friends of yours since you obviously love them more than you love me?!”</p>
<p>To which the proper response is always: “Let’s go on a cruise!”</p>
<p align="center"># # #</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274482014-05-11T12:00:00-12:002023-12-06T20:09:16-12:00Refugee Rhapsody
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/eed98732bcd3c2a17385957867b325d6ab554ac2/original/cuban-flag.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzE4eDE1OSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="159" width="318" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Last cruise, we rescued 40 Cuban refugees in a small, rickety watercraft which had been adrift at sea for over two weeks. We fed them, clothed them, and gave them medical attention. They are now proud members of our Housekeeping Department.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Just kidding. The bean counters in Miami would never authorize the extra uniforms.</strong></p>
<p><strong>We tried offloading our unexpected guests in Montego Bay, Jamaica, but they took one look around and said, “Screw this dump—take us back to Cuba!”</strong></p>
<p><strong>That’s exactly what happened, too. Three days after the rescue, our Captain announced we'd been ordered to turn over our Cuban visitors to the U.S. Coast Guard in International waters via vessel transfer. According to U.S. law, Cuban refugees who reach U.S. soil are allowed to stay in the country. Those who are intercepted at sea are returned to Cuba. Can you imagine being rescued after 15 days at sea with little food and water and no cover from the elements only to be told you were being sent back?</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong>It’s a bittersweet feeling to know that you've saved somebody’s life only to return them to a life they so desperately wanted to escape. And that’s how most of us crew members felt for the first day after the rescue. But by day two we were like, “Where the hell is the Coast Guard?! We want our Crew Bar and Crew Internet Lounge (where the refugees were billeted) back!”</strong></p>
<p><strong>Although it’s natural for human nature to creep back in after the adrenaline of a crisis wears off, this doesn't lessen the emotional impact of the rescue. It was quite a dramatic event. Once our cruise director made the announcement that the nighttime rescue was in progress, hundreds of crew members and guests crowded onto what we call the Lanai Deck to watch the little boat packed with waving and shouting Cubans bob up and down in the rough sea, the laser- bright beam of our ship’s searchlight making it look like a scene from a movie. We all cheered as the Captain, using our thrusters, positioned the ship so that the refugees’ boat gently kissed our starboard side as Security opened the gangway doors on Riviera Deck. Guests applauded in relief when they saw the refugees being led out of the boat onto our ship. What they didn't see were all the overworked crew members who tried to escape into the boat:</strong></p>
<p><strong>“Let me out of here—If I have to make one more towel animal for a demanding and unappreciative American guest I’m going to kill myself! Cuba, here I come!"</strong></p>
<p><strong>If you were to work on a cruise ship for one day, it wouldn't take you long to see how stupid some guests can be. Last cruise, some guests actually went down to Guest Services and complained that, since we interrupted their vacation in order to rescue Cuban refugees, they should be monetarily compensated. They felt that we had endangered their lives by bringing “potential Somali pirates” aboard and therefore they felt entitled to a free cruise.</strong></p>
<p><strong>First of all, maritime law commands us to assist any vessel in distress and to embark its passengers if that vessel is no longer seaworthy. Secondly, how exactly do 40 dehydrated Cubans pose a danger to 4,500 drunken Saints fans from New Orleans? Thirdly, we're several thousand miles away from the coast of Somalia. Besides, even if Somali pirates were to board our ship, we'd put them to work immediately:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>SOMALI PIRATES:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>We are Somali pirates! Take us to the Bridge!</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>HOUSEKEEPING MANAGER:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>No—you’re going to swab Lido Deck just like the schedule says! So put down those rifles and grab a mop, you lazy bastards, before I put my big Guatemalan foot up your skinny African asses!</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>SOMALI PIRATES:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Oh, did we say Somali pirates? We meant to say Cuban refugees—take us to the Crew bar instead!</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong>I’ll tell you how we should have compensated these people: we should have kicked them into the Cubans’ rickety piece-of-crap boat and then told them to drift aimlessly without food and water until another cruise line stops to pick them up: “I’m sure just about every line will pass you eventually, so take your pick!”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong>With any luck, the Cuban Coast Guard would pick them up and return them to Idiot Island.</strong></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274472014-05-01T12:00:00-12:002014-05-03T01:08:45-12:00Ship for Brains
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/c0e0941f5cec6a7604c4996ad0a71c3b2a43db98/original/jerks.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjIweDIyMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="220" width="220" /></p>
<p>Although Cruise Critic reviews can tell you which ship offers the best bang for your buck, one thing they can’t tell you is what your fellow passengers will be like on any given cruise. Pick the wrong sailing date with the wrong guest demographic and your vacation can go from Cape Canaveral to “Cape Fear” faster than you can say, “Here comes Honey Boo-Boo!”</p>
<p>Even if you book the most poorly reviewed ship in the fleet, the biggest negative surprise of your cruise will be what troublemakers some of your fellow cruisers can be. Those tan lines above their feet? That’s where the house arrest ankle bracelets used to be.</p>
<p>Although TV commercials always make cruising look like a care-free adventure, take it from me:</p>
<ul>
<li>No matter how luxurious your stateroom may be, you won’t get any rest if your quarrelsome neighbors sound like they’re auditioning for “The Jerry Springer Show” on their balcony every night.</li>
<li>No matter how incredible the food and service in the dining room may be, you’re not going to enjoy dinner if the family next to you lets their sugar-addled rug rats run around the table, screeching their heads off as if taping a telethon for Planned Parenthood.</li>
<li>No matter how efficient and understanding the pursers at Guest Services may be, you’ll never get to the front of the line if 20 members of the same Idiots Anonymous chapter “didn’t know I had to pay for them items in my mini-bar!”</li>
<li>No matter how funny the comedians in the ship’s comedy club may be, you can’t enjoy the show if the trailer-park CPAs behind you are fighting over the check, trying to figure out who the hell ordered a drink called “gratuity.”</li>
</ul>
<p>Sure, everyone has to put up with troublesome neighbors at home or work alongside first-class boneheads in the office; you expect that. What you don’t expect is to pay thousands of dollars to embark upon the vacation of a lifetime only to have it ruined by a handful of inconsiderate knuckleheads whose foster parents never taught them how to behave in public. Expect loud drunks to swear repeatedly in front of your children. Expect giggling morons to drop ice on you from the upper decks. Expect thoughtless jerks to light up cigars in the hot tub. Expect complete idiots to leave their empty coffee mugs in the middle of the stairs so your mother-in-law can fall and break her hip. Expect selfish pigs to swipe the last four slices of banana cream pie from the buffet without asking if you or one of your kids would like one. (OK, you can expect <em>me </em> to do that, too.)</p>
<p>Bottom line, if you think you’re getting away from the Real World by going on a cruise, you’re wrong. Thanks to an abundance of affordable fares on the Internet, the same blockheads who make your life miserable on land are going to follow you up the gangway, dragging their knuckles behind them. They will cut in line in front of you at the buffet, chat loudly during production shows, and hog a big block of deck chairs for relatives who are never showing up—all the while being totally oblivious to how uncomfortable they’re making you feel or how badly they're intimidating your children.</p>
<p>These days, cruise lines are doing whatever they can to fill every ship to capacity. The more empty cabins, the more money they lose and the harder it will be for them to keep their prices down. Unfortunately, reduced fares and on-board credit incentives mean more people who've had their campers repossessed are trading camping for cruising, meaning more people to heatedly debate the verisimilitude of Pro Wrestling right behind you while you’re trying to enjoy a romantic sunset with your special someone.</p>
<p>Fortunately, the majority of people you’ll meet on your cruise will be friendly, helpful and entertaining. You might even make a few new friends for life. In fact, the number of nice people you’ll meet will allow you to suffer the fools more gladly and, more than likely, encourage you to book another cruise right away.</p>
<p>But as for the imbeciles, nitwits and pinheads? Remember, it’s not a crime to push somebody overboard as long as nobody sees you do it. Besides, that won’t be the first time somebody’s “gotten away with murder” while cruising.</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274462014-04-15T12:00:00-12:002021-07-03T21:39:31-12:00Have Tux, Will Travel
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/d246e68b4ef80ab38dc3d907e1472f2b9cd6cea7/original/tank-top.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MTkweDIxMSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="211" width="190" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>When packing for a cruise, don’t forget something nice to wear on Elegant Night. If you don’t own a tuxedo or evening gown, a tank top or sweat pants will do just fine. Just make sure they’re <em>clean. </em>It is Elegant Night, after all.</p>
<p>Elegant Night isn’t what it used to be. Dressing up is optional now because my cruise line doesn’t want to alienate the lucrative “Duck Dynasty” demo by forcing them to wear anything that needs to be ironed. From a business standpoint that makes perfect sense: disgruntled guests spend less money so why risk upsetting a high roller who won’t even splurge on a pair of ten-dollar dress slacks at T.J. Maxx?</p>
<p>Before making Elegant Night more convenient for the sartorially challenged we need to ask ourselves, “What kind of nighttime atmosphere do we want to promote on our ships? An elegant atmosphere where guests can delight in looking their very best for a couple of hours? Or a relaxed atmosphere where guests can enjoy a refined seven-course meal in swim suits and flip-flops? Do we want guests to feel like they’re on a luxurious ocean liner in the Caribbean or at a KOA in Jacksonville?”</p>
<p>I think you know the answer: <em>Viva </em>Trailer Park Chic!</p>
<p>Oddly, my cruise line seems to care more about the wants and needs of our less sophisticated first-time cruisers than those of our more urbane repeat guests. Unfortunately, the more we coddle the common herd, the more we disrespect our classier customers who are more appreciative, more cooperative, and tend to spend more money on board. But because classier guests tend to bitch less, we've started to tailor our policies to the complaints and grievances of a few flip-flop philistines who, for example, feel discriminated against because "them treadmills in the guest gym ain’t got no ashtrays.” If I tell some shirtless biker with a giant flaming skull tattoo on his chest that he can’t enter my comedy club before donning the “Who Farted?” tank top he has slung over his shoulder like a Captain Trailer Park cape, he wheels his pimped-out Rascal Scooter down to Guest Services and threatens to have his entire Hell’s Angels chapter boycott the cruise line. Consequently, my cruise director is forced to give in and tell the guest that, because we truly value the patronage of a part-time drug mule who bought this cruise at the last minute on CheapAssCruises.com thanks to the $200 settlement he got on “Judge Judy,” that giant flaming skull tattoo on his chest does indeed count as a shirt.</p>
<p>“But, Boss,” I’ll say, “What about all the wealthy Platinum and Diamond members sitting next to him in their tuxedos and evening gowns, wearing looks of disgust and astonishment on their faces?”</p>
<p>“Well, if they’re so wealthy, how come they can’t afford a nice tank top for Elegant Night?”</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274452014-03-02T12:00:00-12:002022-04-06T06:02:30-12:00Children of the All-You-Can-Eat Corn
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/e5efd20f3dcbd8ed1c429af30481777605ff12e0/original/children-of-the-corn.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzAweDIxMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="210" width="300" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>If your main reason for going on a cruise is to get away from your kids for a week, make sure you pick the right week. If you go during summer vacation, winter holidays or spring break, you’ll be trading your kids for other people’s kids. And after watching them charge around the ship with no supervision, knocking over old ladies with walkers, crashing into waiters balancing huge trays of nine-dollar drinks, and cannon balling pool water onto your Kindle, you’ll wish you had brought your kids along just so they can throw these little Grandsons of Anarchy a beating.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Although most ships have one or more kids’ clubs that keep the little angels occupied during the day, the nighttime is when they grow their fangs and sprout their demon wings. If you've cruised before, you may have observed them in the hallways, on the stairwells or in the elevator lobbies well past midnight: Gangs of preteens roaming the ship like prepubescent marauders--laughing and shouting, blasting Miley Cyrus on their iPhones without headphones, riding the elevators up and down for no reason, and just plain annoying the hell out of anyone unlucky enough not to own a tranquilizer gun with a laser sight. Sure, you can call Security, but Security will always say the same thing: “Sorry, sir, but we asked those kids if they were causing trouble and they said, ‘No’.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Although teenagers and preteens can be loud and obnoxious, a disapproving stare is usually enough to settle them down. It’s the little kids with no “off” switches that’ll drive you crazy. Cruise at the wrong time of year and you’ll be surrounded by sugar-crazed kiddies hijacking the ship like miniature Somali pirates. Kiddies screeching in the dining room. Kiddies crying in the comedy club. Kiddies peeing in the hot tub. Kiddies looking innocently up at you with cute, excited little faces just as you’re about ready to kick them down a flight of stairs, causing you to pat them on the head and say, “Have fun, sweetheart—but be careful!” instead.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Even though I love children and am used to them wreaking havoc on the ship, my fantasies of punting them overboard never last more than a second or two. That’s how long it takes for me to imagine what I’d do to their parents, instead, should I find them. (Which is impossible because the majority of parents remove their children’s leashes at the beginning of the cruise, never to see them again until claiming them on the luggage carousel in the terminal at the end of the cruise.)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>As the cousin of the parents of two wonderfully behaved youngsters who managed to enjoy their first cruise on my ship immensely while causing no trouble whatsoever, I know it’s possible for kids to have the time of their lives without ruining the cruise for adults.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Unfortunately, my cousin and her husband were fined heavily by my cruise line for their children’s exemplary behavior. Apparently, the front office feels that well-behaved kids risk ruining the fun vacation atmosphere we're known for. That’s why every parent is supposed to receive a “Complete Idiot’s Guide to Being a Complete Idiot: Cruise Ship Parenting 101” pamphlet that helps children enjoy their cruise more than the people who actually paid for it.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p align="center"><strong>“Complete Idiot’s Guide to Being a Complete Idiot: Cruise Ship Parenting 101”</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<ol>
<li>
<strong>Never know where your kids are </strong>and if they’re stampeding round the ship unattended, yelling, screaming and disturbing other passengers, do not stop them. Just because a crew member has chastised them multiple times doesn’t mean this conduct is unacceptable. In fact, get that crew member’s name because it’s been a while since we’ve made someone walk the plank.</li>
<li>
<strong>The public restrooms are for grownups,</strong> so if your kids have to pee, that’s what the “adults-only” hot tub is for.</li>
<li>
<strong>Do not ask your children to say “Please” or “Thank you” </strong>when being served in the dining room. “Honey Boo-Boo” never learned table manners so what makes your kids so special?</li>
<li>
<strong>Sit exhausted toddlers in the front row of the comedy show</strong> because the only thing comedians love more than a drunken heckler sitting two feet from the stage is a wailing three-year-old.</li>
<li>
<strong>If a show in the main theater isn't suitable for your tiny tots, drag them along anyway.</strong> Having them play distracting computer games on a tablet or whine “Mommy, I’m bored!” for an hour straight will force the passengers seated around you to pay better attention to the show, thereby enjoying it more.</li>
<li>
<strong>Show zero respect for the ship’s property.</strong> If you catch your child doing something you would never tolerate in your own home, such as yanking down on the lever of the frozen yogurt machine until all the yogurt empties into a pile on the floor, be sure to laugh your head off and snap a photo.</li>
</ol>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>So the next time you want a break from your kids, don’t go on a cruise—go to Chuck E. Cheese. It’ll be much quieter.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274442014-02-15T12:00:00-12:002014-02-20T09:31:16-12:00Cabin Fever
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/4c5dcf6ea0b7b599dad570aff503718ef546ccca/original/cabin-fever-2.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzAweDE2OCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="168" width="300" /></p>
<p>The second most frequent question cruise ship passengers ask the crew is, “What are your living quarters like?” (The most frequent question is, “Can you say that again—this time, in English—please?”)</p>
<p>Working on a cruise ship isn’t easy. You’re on the clock up to 14 hours a day, every day, for six months to a year, with few—if any—days off, all the while being whipped mercilessly by cat o’ nine tails. Fortunately, you can have all the banana nut bread you want, so the whippings are definitely worth it.</p>
<p>The secret to thriving in such a demanding environment is getting plenty of rest. And the secret to getting plenty of rest in a crew cabin is to die in your sleep. Because, dying in your sleep is the only way you’ll sleep for eight hours straight on a ship without being wakened by your door-slamming, belt-buckle-jangling, peeing-with-the bathroom-door-open, playing-video-games-at-all-hours-of-the-night roommate.</p>
<p>If you’re young and healthy like the majority of crew members, dying in your sleep might pose a bit of a challenge. No problem. Just snore your butt off and sooner or later your roommate will <em>kill</em> you in your sleep. Every crew bunk comes with two pillows: one for sleeping on and the other for smothering your snoring roommate.</p>
<p>Although sharing a tiny cabin with a complete stranger is the greatest suffering I’ve ever had to endure for my art, some crew members don’t mind at all. These are usually young people just starting their careers who aren’t bothered by noise or lack of privacy. These kids are the worst roommates you can get: because nothing bothers <em>them</em>, they assume nothing will bother <em>you</em>. These are the roommates who’ll crank the TV up to full volume at three in the morning or make long distance phone calls in staccato Spanish while standing right next to your head or decide to use their hair dryer to blow dry their laundry just as you’re falling asleep because they forgot to leave the crew bar in time to snag an open dryer in the crew laundry room.</p>
<p>You generally don’t get to choose your roommate. That’s the job of the crew staff administrator, who puts a lot of thought into cabin assignments by throwing darts at a dartboard. The good news is, if you wind up bunking with someone you can’t stand, she’ll let you borrow one of her darts.</p>
<p>All double occupancy crew cabins feature bunk beds. Each bunk comes with a reading light, a little book shelf and a wraparound curtain that’ll provide you with complete privacy whenever your 20-year-old roommate—always the ship’s apprentice deejay—decides to throw an after-party with a half- dozen drunken friends at 4:00am after the disco closes.</p>
<p>The first rule of cabin etiquette is the new guy gets the top bunk. You’ll usually have to wait several months for your roommate to move out before you can take the bottom bunk, in which case you’ll want to mark your territory for your new roommate by conspicuously placing personal belongings on your bunk such as your laptop or barbed wire.</p>
<p>Another pain in the butt is we have to store our luggage in our cabins. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a cabin with a big spacious corner ( two feet by four feet), where there’s plenty of room for me to stack my suitcase on top of my roommate’s 10 suitcases. If I get a small cabin (six feet by eight feet), however, I’ll wind up spending 10 months with my suitcase sitting smack dab in the middle of the cabin, tripping over it in the middle of the night when I get out of bed to pee. Remember that old American Tourister TV commercial from the '70s in which the gorilla threw a suitcase around his cage? He was just pissed he wasn't allowed to put it in storage. (Even though that ape's cage was larger than the typical crew cabin!)</p>
<p>Every month, there’s a cabin inspection to make sure you don’t have anything in your cabin you’re not supposed to, such as blenders, hot plates or privacy. They key to passing a cabin inspection is knowing when an inspection is. And the key to knowing when an inspection is writing yourself a reminder after they tell you exactly when the inspection is. What happens is Security tells your department head when the inspection is (usually the last sea day of the month), so all you have to do is unplug your power strip, space heater, moonshine still, centrifuge for enriching weapons-grade Uranium, and hide everything ingeniously by—wait for it—putting it in one of your drawers.</p>
<p>Except for your pillow. That’s one deadly weapon you can leave right out in the open.</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274432014-02-07T12:00:00-12:002021-07-27T19:13:21-12:00Leader of the Pack(ing)
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/995fb66afbcc624ab0c44d6c9503a019d48d933a/original/packing-a-suitcase.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDU5eDMwNiJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="306" width="459" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>It’s great to be back home in Cleveland. This is the first time I’ve seen snow in seven years. Unless you count the time I picked up the wrong suitcase in Mexico.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>I’d have preferred to remain in the Caribbean for the winter, but I was arrested for throwing eggs at the ship next door and drag racing on a Rascal Scooter (the Lamborghini of mobility scooters). They were going to deport me to Canada, but they found out Cleveland was colder due to the “lake effect," which is meteorological jargon for “freezing my nads off."</p>
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<p>Although six months is a relatively short contract for me, I couldn’t wait to pack my bags because the only thing more fun than living on a cruise ship for six months is figuring out how to get all my accumulated crap into one checked bag and one carry-on. It’d be easier to get Chris Christie into a Speedo.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>After spending half my life traveling for a living, I have packing down to a science. Unfortunately, science was always my worst subject. But, according to Wikipedia, the first law of luggage-ology is: “Objects at rest will weigh precisely one pound over the airline’s fifty pound limit once you get to the airport.” It doesn’t matter if the only things you pack are a jock strap and a duck call, once you get to the airport your suitcase will weigh exactly fifty-one pounds, in which case you’ll be expected to pay a $100 overweight luggage fee. (Unless the airline associate feels sorry for you, in which case she’ll only charge you $125.)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Actually, it’s not <em>that</em> hard to pack a suitcase correctly after half a year at sea. All you have to do is follow five simple steps:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p><strong>1. </strong><strong>Create a packing list: </strong>Make a list of everything you need to pack into the suitcase. Leave nonessential items at the bottom of the list. That way, if you run out of space you can throw those items away, give them to your cabin mate or leave them in the charity box down in the Crew Internet Lounge. (Central American orphans can never get enough extension cords or Tom Clancy novels.) Thanks to OCD and my predilection to hoarding, my packing list was a breeze to make:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p align="center"><strong>Nonessential Items:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<ol>
<li>The ship.</li>
</ol>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p><strong>Essential Items:</strong></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<ol>
<li> Everything else.</li>
</ol>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p><strong> </strong><strong>2. </strong><strong>Separate large and small items: </strong>To pack a suitcase properly you must first make room for large items like suits, sweaters or your cabin steward (making your own bed at home sucks!). Once all large items are situated small items (like a shorter cabin steward) can be fitted into the empty corners or crevices between large items and around the edge of the suitcase. Instead of folding the big items try rolling them up. Although this won’t save any space, it'll leave you prepared should you decide to spend part of your vacation in either Colorado or Washington state.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p><strong>3. </strong><strong>Make your suitcase bottom heavy: </strong>(Insert your own Kim Kardashian joke here!)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p><strong>4. </strong><strong>Pack socks and underwear last: </strong>Don’t pack socks and underwear with the rest of your clothes because they’ll take up too much space.<strong> </strong>And don’t wash them either. Instead, once you've packed your suitcase, slip your smelly socks and crusty underwear into the flap of the suitcase so they’ll fall out easily and put an abrupt end to any Customs or TSA inspections.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p><strong>5. </strong><strong>Ship home non-clothing items: </strong>It’s easy for crew members to accumulate lots of books, DVDs and souvenirs such as that wooden figure of Justin Bieber riding a donkey you bought in Cozumel after one too many Coronas—stuff you won’t need as soon as you get home but don’t want to leave on the ship because where else are you going to find a wooden figure of a donkey being ridden by a jackass? Shipping this stuff home is usually less expensive than paying for an extra or overweight suitcase. (If you ship your cabin steward make sure to leave a snack in the box.)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Well, that’s all the time I have for now. I’ve been home for a whole week now and I should probably get unpacked.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274422014-01-28T12:00:00-12:002022-04-07T06:12:42-12:00Acid Trip
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/7ca9bf2ff0364898021c4c5ab0ef54a408687413/original/nexium.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjIxeDIyOCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="228" width="221" /></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>When I lost my voice for three months last year, I was forced to host 20 comedy shows per cruise sounding like Kathleen Turner. This confused the hell out of our guests because I <em>look</em> like Ellen DeGeneres.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Some nights my voice was so hoarse I had to rely on hand gestures to communicate. Fortunately, the gestures required for dealing with drunken hecklers at a midnight comedy show are the same gestures required for merging into rush-hour traffic, so they were already second nature.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Although I knew something was wrong, it was my fiancée, Željka, who finally convinced me to seek medical attention after listening to me croak and rasp like an 80-year-old nine-pack-a-day smoker. She was afraid of what would happen to our relationship if I lost the ability to talk completely: If I lost the ability to talk, she’d lose the ability to get mad at <em>every single stupid thing I say</em>, thus robbing her of life’s greatest joy.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>So, in order to give Željka hope that I would soon be spewing my “idiotic bull crap” at full volume again, I went down to the infirmary to get checked out. After poking a flashlight the size of a pop bottle down my throat, the ship’s physician told me I had strained my vocal chords and suggested I refrain from all unnecessary talking. Vocal rest, the good doctor assured me, would be the key to my recovery. Unfortunately, as anyone who knows me will testify, I’m incapable of telling the difference between necessary and unnecessary talking. My mouth has four gears: “Lecture,” “Rant,” “Jeremiad” and “Filibuster.” There is no “Rest.” Even with laryngitis, I make David Lee Roth look Like Marlee Matlin.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>After a month of taking enough antibiotics to make my tongue look like a slice of moldy Wonder Bread, gargling enough warm salt water to grow gills, sipping enough hot tea and honey to stop raising eyebrows whenever I waddled into the staff mess wearing my “Winnie the Pooh” feety pajamas, and writing down everything I needed to say offstage into a notebook like Max von Sydow’s character in <em>Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close</em>, there was no improvement whatsoever with my voice. So, although the doctor wasn't thrilled with the idea of my being able to babble on and on and on about nothing again, he offered me two choices:</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>1) Talk out of my ass. (“Hey, you've made a career of it—why stop now?!”)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>2) See a specialist.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Since I didn't want to compete with old pros such as Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity, I selected Option Two. The following Tuesday, the port agent escorted me to an Ear, Nose and Throat clinic in St. Thomas, where I took a battery of tests which culminated in the pleasant experience of having the specialist— his “specialty” being advanced interrogation techniques at Guantanamo—snaking a fiber-optic camera up the size of a Twizzler up through my nose, on through my nasal cavity and down into my throat to take a peek at my vocal chords.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Mistaking my gasps for air for curiosity, he kindly allowed me to watch the camera's journey on a high-def video screen. Ordinarily, I would have been too squeamish to explore my own throat via Nostril Cam but I recently started watching reruns of “Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo,” so I can handle anything.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Sure enough, my vocal chords were bright red. What was left of them, that is. Turns out, I had undetected Acid Reflux Disease and my stomach had spent the previous few months shooting acid up through my esophagus, splashing it all over my beleaguered vocal chords and, basically, incinerating them. (The official medical term for this condition is “twerking.”)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>After my exam, the specialist wrote me a prescription for Prevacid and gave me a long list of food and beverages I have to stay away from: “OK, Jeffrey: no beer, no wine; no Coke, no Pepsi; no orange juice, no grapefruit; no chicken wings, no hot sauce; no chocolate, no mint…”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>“Doc,” I said, “I might as well kill myself.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>“OK, it's your life. But no arsenic, no chlorine, no strychnine….”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>A year and four visits to the clinic later, I finally have my Acid Reflux Disease under control and my voice is as loud and clear and strident and grating and annoying as ever. After going in for a checkup this past Tuesday, turns out the only things I've been doing wrong are lying down after I eat, eating right before going to bed, and eating anything cooked on the ship since our Indian chefs can’t seem to serve so much as a bowl of sliced peaches in syrup without adding enough curry to power a nuclear sub.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Fortunately, I have enough Prevacid to last me while on vacation for the next two months. Of course, if I run out, I can always borrow some of my Dad’s Nexium like I did the last time I was home. We never went hunting or fishing when I was a kid; but, now that I’m in my late 40’s, we’re making up for lost time in the bonding department by sharing prescription medication.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>That’s how much my parents love me. They’re willing to help me control my Acid Reflux Disease when it’s the only thing in the past 48 years that’s been able to shut me up.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274412014-01-11T12:00:00-12:002023-12-10T05:01:57-12:00'Twas the SEAson
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/a4c6e7c562f275d534ef25aca9f100ed4ff4cd95/original/sea-sons-greetings.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjUyeDE4OSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="189" width="252" /></p>
<p>It’s hard to believe the holidays are over already. Perhaps if I were to take the Christmas decorations down in my cabin, it would feel more like the twelfth day of 2014. But seeing how my New Year’s resolution was to be a lazy as possible, I don’t want to quit while I’m on a roll.</p>
<p>Besides, I've gotten used to having a life-sized snowman on my wall. Sometimes, when life at sea gets particularly stressful, “Frosty” will come to life and cheer me up. Why, just the other day, I said, “Frosty, last night, a guest walked straight to the front of the long line of guests waiting to get into the comedy club, stood just to the left of the line and informed me that she was ready to be seated. When I told her that she was going to have the join the back of the line, she said, ‘How was I supposed to know this long line winding all the way down Promenade Deck from the casino to the comedy club was the line for the comedy club? Nobody told me that that line was the line for the comedy club. If I had known that that line was the line for the comedy club and not just some random line that just so happened to start at the entrance of the comedy club, I would have joined it. But since nobody told me that that was the line for the comedy club, I decided to start a line of my own right here—so you should make those other four hundred people standing in a single file line starting at the entrance of the comedy club for no apparent good reason get in line <em>behind me</em>!’"</p>
<p>“Frosty,” I said. “How does somebody that stupid make it to her 40’s without sticking her tongue in a light socket, let alone afford to go on a cruise?!”</p>
<p>Doing his best Johnny Cochran impersonation, Frosty smiled at me said, “Fun Dude, when you’re talking to a decoration, it’s time for a vacation!”</p>
<p>Since joining my cruise line in 2007, I’ve spent every Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s at sea. Fortunately, our ship attracts so many difficult and demanding guests during the holidays that it feels as if I’m back home with my family.</p>
<p>It’s not hard to get into the Christmas spirit on our ship. Wherever you turn you’ll see beautiful decorations, hear your favorite carols and observe diminutive Indonesian housekeepers in oversized Santa hats cleaning up after sloppy Americans like so many disgruntled elves, singing:</p>
<p align="center"><em>Why am I such a misfit?</em></p>
<p align="center"><em>These rednecks are all such nitwits!</em></p>
<p align="center"><em>Why can’t they clean up their own s**t?</em></p>
<p align="center"><em>I should have become a dentist!</em></p>
<p>Staff members are encouraged to participate in the cabin door decorating contest every Christmas. It’s hard to pick a winner since we all put so much time and effort into lovingly and enthusiastically decorating our doors as uniquely and distinctively as possible, using the exact same decorations as everyone else since we all take the same exact shuttle bus to the same exact Wal-Mart and browse the same exact Christmas department in the same exact door decorations aisle. The winner gets a $25 gift certificate to Target, which is a $30 cab ride from Wal-Mart.</p>
<p>My Croatian fiancée Željka loves Christmas so much that I decorate our entire cabin for her. This year I spent around $100 on “Frosty the Snowman” wall art, “Santa” and penguin mirror clings, fake snow spray, a wreath, a manger, a “Nutcracker” nutcracker, “Merry Christmas” bath towels and throw rugs, garland, ornaments, Christmas stockings, a poinsettia, loads of Christmas candy and a tiny stuffed “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” who, by peeking his cute little face over the rim of a giant red and white ceramic coffee mug bearing his name, caused Željka to emit squeals of Yuletide delight. The only thing I didn’t buy was mistletoe. Instead, I just hung my “chestnuts,” which—if you haven’t guessed—Željka removed from me years ago.</p>
<p>Our annual Christmas show in the main theater is so much fun I always volunteer as an usher. I love watching proud and loving parents tear up as they watch their small children, who rehearse all week up in our youth camp, sing their hearts out like cute little angels. Cute little tone-deaf angels accompanied by a backing track of the Vienna Boys Choir that masks their angelic, off-key ululations so convincingly that proud and loving parents don’t have to drop their expensive video cameras in order to stuff their proud and loving fingers into their ears so as to prevent their proud and loving brains from turning into figgie pudding. At the end of the show, team members representing over 50 countries where Christmas obviously isn’t celebrated walk down the aisles holding battery operated candles, singing “Silent Night” and “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” And, by singing, I mean standing there with confused looks on their faces, not knowing where to stand or which direction to face since the team members who volunteered for the show aren’t the same team members who volunteered for rehearsal.</p>
<p>Just because our cruise line makes a big deal out of Christmas doesn’t mean we forget our Jewish guests. We celebrate all eight days of Hanukkah with a ceremony at sundown usually hosted by Yours Truly due to the fact that I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood. Although I was raised Catholic, I was allowed to go to my friends’ houses for Hanukkah because each of my parents had a very open mind about religion and an even more open mind about getting the kids out of the house for a couple of hours.</p>
<p>Our Jewish guests really love our Hanukkah ceremonies because it allows them to do what they do best: gather around the menorah—in this case a fifteen-foot-high electric version with light bulbs that last about as long as snowflakes in a heated garage—and complain about the recipe our Indian chef used for the latkes. We even leave the Menorah lit through Christmas and New Year’s so our Jewish guests can take part in the holiday season by going down to Guests Services and complaining that the menorah is not supposed to stay lit past the last day of Hanukkah.</p>
<p>If there’s one thing to really look forward to during the holidays it’s the incredible holiday feasts waiting for us in the staff mess. We get turkey, stuffing, gravy, grilled shrimp, frozen shrimp and various cakes, pies and ice creams for dessert. To top it off, they serve us free beer, wine and soda pop. All we have to do is be one of the first twenty people in line because all the good stuff is gone in five minutes.</p>
<p>Our New Year’s cruise is always a blast. I can’t think of a better way of ringing in the new year than by reveling among more than 4,000 cheering guests and crew members under the stars on Lido Deck, listening to the show band break into “Auld Lang Syne” as Željka throws a full glass of champagne in my face because I had the audacity to let some “cross-eyed Russian whore” kiss me on the cheek at midnight.</p>
<p>Would I have I rather been home for the holidays? Brother, I <em>was</em> home. And I can hardly wait till next year.</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274402013-12-07T12:00:00-12:002014-02-18T23:07:10-12:00Team America
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<p>One of the first things guests ask me is, “What’s an American like you doing working as a crew member on a cruise ship?”</p>
<p>My stock answer is: “I’m not a crew member. I’m actually the president of the cruise line, taping an episode of ‘Undercover Boss’.”</p>
<p>Almost every American on our ship works in the Entertainment Department. Our cruise line learned the hard way that we Americans are much more entertaining than, say, Croatians:</p>
<p>“OK, everybody, it is time to play da trivias: ‘What country is so stupid dey turned ‘Here Comes Honey Boo’ into a ratings bonanza?’ Dat’s right: America. You win—have another Twinkie, Fatso!”</p>
<p>You won’t find many Americans working down at the Guest Services desk. Sarcasm doesn’t play well with weary travelers:</p>
<p>“Excuse me, but is there a charge for the items in my mini-bar?”</p>
<p>“Of course not, ma’am; we’re a cruise line. We would never nickel and dime our customers. Why would we a buy a bag of Skittles at Wal-Mart for fifty cents and then charge you six bucks for it when you return from the casino at 2:00am drunk and depressed? And don’t forget to order a bucket of beer at the pool bar—that crap’s free, too, lady!”</p>
<p>Instead, you’ll find plenty of South Americans, South Africans and Eastern Europeans. They possess a knack for answering stupid questions with a straight face which Americans lack:</p>
<p align="center">AMERICAN GUEST:</p>
<p align="center">“Excuse me, but we've got these annoying whooshing and slapping sounds coming from the other side of our cabin wall.”</p>
<p align="center">NON-AMERICAN GUEST SERVICES STAFF MEMBER:</p>
<p align="center">“Yes, sir, that would be the ocean.”</p>
<p align="center">AMERICAN GUEST:</p>
<p align="center">“Can you make it stop?!”</p>
<p align="center">NON-AMERICAN GUEST SERVICES STAFF MEMBER:</p>
<p align="center">“Yes, sir, I will call the captain and ask him to pop a wheelie all the way to Cozumel.”</p>
<p>You’re not going to get that degree of cooperation from “Ramona,” recently fired from K-Mart for sucker punching a disgruntled shopper:</p>
<p align="center">AMERICAN GUEST:</p>
<p align="center">“Excuse me, but there’s this weird sewage smell in the hallway down on Riviera Deck. Could you send somebody to look into it, please?</p>
<p align="center">“RAMONA”:</p>
<p align="center">“How do I know it ain’t your stanky ass that’s stankin’ up the hallway? When was the last time yo greasy, country ass took a shower? And even if it <em>is</em> backed-up sewage you is smellin’—that’s what you get for bookin’ a last-minute super-saver fare on the Internet instead of findin’ a real job and payin’ for a real cabin. If yo cheap ass could afford a balcony maybe you’d be smellin’ salty sea air instead of yo own sweaty, funky-ass ass funk, fool! You don’t like how the hallway smells on the budget deck; spend your vacation at KOA next time, punk!”</p>
<p>No matter how ridiculous your complaint is, our non-American Guest Services personnel will find a way to pacify you. If you complain about the size of the pineapple slice garnishing the rim of your nine-dollar piña colada, fifteen minutes later a Filipino with a trolley will bring a fifty-pound pineapple wedge to your cabin:</p>
<p>“Dees pineapple for you, Madame. Pineapple dees big keep your mouth busy so you can’t bitch no mo’!”</p>
<p>The best thing about cruising is you can leave your dirty dishes wherever you want and no one will say a thing.</p>
<p>At least not in English.</p>
<p>But listen closely and you’ll learn to say, “Lazy American” in fifty foreign languages.</p>
<p>In fact, that’s the real reason you don’t see more American crew members on a cruise ship: most cruise lines realize that, if a foreign crew member sees you leave a dirty dish on the staircase, he’ll pick it up for you. But if an American crew member sees you leave a dirty dish in the middle of the stairs, he’ll say, “Really, Bubba?! That’s where you’re going to leave it? Where someone can trip, fall and break their neck?! Shame on you, you lazy slob—pick that crap up and put it on that counter over there before I slap the hell out of you the way your mama should have thirty years ago when you were just a pint-sized lazy slob leaving your Ho-Ho wrappers and Yoo-Hoo cans all over the double wide so your daddy could home drunk, trip in the kitchen, hit his head and die in a pile of filth, leaving you without a proper male role model to teach you how to clean up after yourself like a damn human being!”</p>
<p>So the next time you find yourself on a cruise ship feeling more important than the other 4,000 passengers on board, be glad the crew doesn’t speak English well enough to argue with you.</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274392013-11-19T12:00:00-12:002022-03-27T13:14:47-12:00Sorry If I Offended You, Jackass!
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<p>There comes a point in every comedian’s career when he has to stop worrying about offending people. Worrying about offending people while performing stand-up comedy is like worrying about getting bugs on your windshield while driving a car. No matter how slowly or carefully you drive, you’re still going to get bugs on your windshield. You don’t want to kill the bugs, you may feel bad about killing the bugs—especially if your kid is watching <em>A Bug’s Life </em>in the backseat—but, unless you want to stay parked in the driveway and get bird poop on your windshield, you’re going to get bugs on your windshield. You can always ride your bike, but then you’re going to get bugs in your teeth. You can always Rollerblade backwards naked, but then you’re going to get a bug up your ass. In which case, you’ll wind up on my cruise ship complaining that I offended you with one of my jokes.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Whenever one of my jokes accidentally hurts somebody’s feelings, my first impulse is to apologize. My second impulse is to duck. Whenever one of my jokes accidentally offends somebody, however, my first impulse is to offend them again—on purpose. My second impulse is to run away like a little girl. (Sorry if I just offended any of you little girls out there.)</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>What’s the difference between hurting someone’s feelings and offending someone? Well, someone who's easily hurt is less likely to laugh at the expense of others because she knows how bad it feels to be the butt of a joke. Someone who’s easily offended is more likely to laugh at everyone else but himself because he actually thinks he is more important than everyone else. So hurting somebody’s feelings with comedy is like crashing into the car in front of you because you’re not watching where you’re going, whereas offending somebody with comedy is like crashing into someone who doesn’t stop at intersections because they believe stop signs don’t apply to them. Either way, the other driver thinks you’re at fault.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Let’s say you're sitting in the front row of my comedy show and I start making fun of some guy’s shirt. If you’re the sort who’s easily hurt, you might think, “Why are you making fun of that man’s shirt in front of all these people? That’s not nice! I think that’s a lovely shirt he’s wearing—what’s wrong with purple polka dots?!” If, however, you’re the type who’s easily offended, you might think, “Yes, that <em>is</em> one goofy looking shirt—get him, Fun Dude—get him! Make sure he never sets foot in T.J. Maxx ever again! Ha! Ha! Ha!” But then as soon as I move on and start making fun of your tank top, you might think, “Hey, watch it, Buddy! This is America! The Second Amendment gives me the right to ‘bare’ arms! You better start making fun of that fat lady next to me before I kick your Ellen-DeGeneres-looking butt!”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Sometimes, when an audience member takes offense to a comedian’s material, he’ll try to ruin the comedian’s set by heckling. Guests on my ship have asked, “Well, if the First Amendment gives a comedian the right to say whatever he wants on stage, doesn’t it give me the right to heckle him while he’s on stage?”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>The short answer is “No.”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>The long answer is “No, Jackass!”</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>The really long answer is “Your First Amendment rights during a live performance which other have people paid to attend and seem to be enjoying are limited to either laughing or not laughing; remaining in the showroom or getting the hell out. Although the First Amendment does indeed give you the right to your own opinion, decorum still dictates that you express your opinion in the proper forum, using the proper medium, at the proper time.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
<p>Such as, waiting until the comedian gets into his car and then crashing into him.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274382013-10-20T12:00:00-12:002023-04-03T05:34:01-12:00Fan Friction
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/039e2517131533611ce52a188a6099b45c8521f5/original/loud.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjUweDI1MyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="253" width="250" /></p>
<p>After reading about the popular new trend of online “fan fiction,” I can’t stop picturing how cool it would be to have some teenage girl reinvent me as a wisecracking vampire lurking in the shadows, thirsting to drain the lifeblood from inebriated cruise-ship guests who complain about the long lines to get into our comedy club. I have the perfect title, too: “The Fun Dude Sucks!”</p>
<p>Although they may not invent Internet stories about me, my fans are still the greatest. Instead of politely introducing themselves and sincerely expressing their appreciation, my “Fun-atics” go the extra mile by screaming at the top of their lungs like Gary Busey contacting the mother ship: “Hey, look—it’s 'Jeff the Fun Dude'! Woooooo-hoooooo!!” Because I’m always so friendly and outgoing, they correctly assume that I love being startled and embarrassed while waiting in line for a cup of coffee.</p>
<p>At first, I took “Hey, look—it’s ‘Jeff the Fun Dude’!” as a rallying cry implying something akin to: “Gather around, all ye fans of ‘the Fun Dude’; let us chase the ‘Fun One’ around the ship like a Beatle, screaming, shouting and tearing at his clothing and unruly mop of ash blond hair so that, in exchange for all the joy and laughter he bestows upon us, we can help him forget—if just for a second—that he is but a marginally talented middle-aged man who sleeps in bunk beds!”</p>
<p>Gratefully, however, their strident alarms are for my benefit. They’ll freeze, point, locks eyes with me and shout, “Hey, look—it’s Jeff the Fun Dude!” in a well-meaning attempt to alert me to the presence of myself. I find this extremely helpful. I often turn to these vociferous acolytes in utter surprise and say, “Really? Is that who I am? I <em>thought</em> I looked familiar. I saw myself in the mirror earlier today and thought, ‘Hey is that who I think it is? Naw, it can’t be.’ But thanks to you and the half dozen Bud Lights you pounded before lunch, my suspicions have been confirmed: I am indeed ‘Jeff the Fun Dude.’ Quick, call ‘TMZ’ and let them know I’m on my way to the restroom to take a dump!”</p>
<p>Because my Fun-atics understand how I hard I work to keep them entertained, they feel compelled to entertain me in return. For example, instead of approaching me at work, where it’s my job to meet and greet guests, they’ll wait until they see me reading the paper in a sidewalk café—in port, on my afternoon off, with my head down, trying to enjoy an hour or two of “me time”—and blast me with an earsplitting “Fun Duuuuuude!” Why wait until they return to the comedy club, where they can have my complete attention, when they can just as easily poke their heads out of a speeding cab and scream, “Fun Duuuuuude!!” loudly enough to scare the living crap out of my Mexican waiter, causing him to spill a double vanilla latté all over my Kindle? A waiter frightened by drunken shouts in a country where the sound of gunshots is more common than farts? Very entertaining, indeed.</p>
<p>I make my fans happy and so they want to make me happy. This explains why my biggest Fun-atics always make sure I know how much funnier I am than the headliner I’m opening for. And why they always make sure that the headliner is standing right next to me when they tell me. Luckily, I’m at my happiest when feeling awkward and uncomfortable.</p>
<p>My fans also value my ability to help them discover fun and exciting things to do in port. Sure, they could read the brochures, go to the cruise director’s travel talk or chat with the experts at our Shore Excursions desk, but they would rather ask me while I’m off the ship, walking hand in hand with my fiancée. That way, they can tap me on the shoulder right in the middle of an impassioned kiss and bark, “Hey, <em>You!</em> You come here every week—what is there to do around here?!”</p>
<p>I would love to say, “Well, although there are a lot of interesting tours offered at that tour kiosk located five feet behind you, I would say the most popular activity in this port would be to leave me the @#$% alone when I’m off duty trying to enjoy a little tropical romance with my woman! This port is famous for that!”</p>
<p>I would <em>love</em> to say that. I’m just afraid my fans might take it wrong. They might take it as a joke.</p>
<p>When it comes to intrusions into our personal lives, I’m much more forgiving than my fiancée is. If someone shouts “Fun Dude!” while we’re lunching at a beachside café, she’ll start mocking them instantly by jumping out of her seat and pretending to shout at me. “Oh, Fun Dude, Fun Dude,” she’ll fake scream, “you were so hilarious during your five precious minutes onstage last night that I just had to display my total lack of manners by shouting at you and your fiancée like an idiot and totally ruining the atmosphere of your romantic lunch instead of approaching you politely and introducing myself like a normal human being! Oh, ‘Fun Dude’, ‘Fun Dude’—tee-hee-hee!!”</p>
<p>“Sweetie, those people are just trying to express how much they love hanging with me at the comedy club every night. They’re just having fun on their vacation. Why do you have to call them idiots?”</p>
<p>“Because you’re an idiot and they’re your fans! So that makes them idiots and you their king—the King of the Idiots! And don’t <em>‘Sweetie’</em> me, you idiot!”</p>
<p>“Sweetie, I can’t be an idiot: I asked <em>you</em> to marry <em>me, </em>remember? That makes me a <em>genius</em>. If anyone is an idiot it’s <em>you</em> for agreeing to marry <em>me.”</em></p>
<p>“Good point, Idiot.”</p>
<p>Although I can definitely be an idiot at times, my fans are <em>not</em> idiots. They just don’t know how to act around me because normal folks aren’t used to having access to professional entertainers. When a play ends, the actors exit the stage and hide in their dressing rooms. When a movie ends, the movie stars leap off the screen and go back to rehab. But when a comedy show ends, the comic is right there at the exit shaking hands and bumming free drinks. Guests now feel they have a relationship with the comic. And because they can’t just call his cabin and invite him to dinner, our guests jump at the first chance they get to interact with the comic. It doesn’t occur to them that the comic they see out and about the next day may be trying to relax, read a book, write some jokes, call his wife or catch a plane—they just want to feel a connection and their only chance is <em>now.</em></p>
<p>But my situation is a little different. I <em>live</em> on the ship; therefore, guests have plenty of opportunities to introduce themselves and say hi. So, because I’m not a loud person, I’m always quite mystified as to why folks who like me and are intrigued by me feel the need to yell and shout at me instead of just striking up a conversation with me. But then, of course, I smell the rum on their breath from 50 feet away and the mystery is solved.</p>
<p>Regardless, I feel it’s part of my job is to show respect and compassion to socially awkward guests and treat them with the same manners and social skills which they so sorely lack. So what if my fans invade my personal space every once in a while? The important thing is that, over the course of 20 comedy shows during a seven-day cruise, my Fun-atics and I are “bonded by fun,” so to speak.</p>
<p>Besides, anytime my fans are a little overzealous or a tad inconsiderate, I can easily seek some harmless revenge by writing a humorous essay such as this one and breezily venting my frustration.</p>
<p>The best thing is I don’t have to worry about hurting their feelings. My fans are way too busy hooting and hollering to read.</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274372013-10-07T12:00:00-12:002023-12-10T04:54:06-12:00I Kid You Not
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/c1ff4bc9c515e31d6f0b31f1e5e95ffd7f918416/original/i-kid-you-not.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzM0eDIyMiJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="222" width="334" /></p>
<p>The coolest thing about being a cruise ship comedian is I get to perform stand-up for children way too young to visit comedy clubs on land. One night, this adorable little Chinese-American girl in the front row raised her hand halfway through my set.</p>
<p>“Do you have a question, Sweetheart?”</p>
<p>“Yes. When does the good part start?”</p>
<p>Needless to say, the audience went nuts.</p>
<p>Feigning outrage, I said, “Hey, Kid—I don’t come down to where you work and knock the iPhone parts out of your hand, do I?”</p>
<p>As the wave of laughter washed over me, I stuck out my tongue and did a victory dance. Apparently, this was the funniest thing her little brother had ever seen. And when he jumped out of his seat to hi-five me, their parents lost it as well.</p>
<p>I thought I had won that round until the unimpressed cutie opened her coloring book, started coloring and shouted—with perfect timing, “Boring!”</p>
<p>Point. Set. Match.</p>
<p>The difference between a ship’s youth counselor and a ship’s comedian is one entertains immature crybabies and the other entertains their children. That’s why I love having kids at my shows. They save me the trouble of dumbing my act down by explaining my jokes to their parents.</p>
<p>Why are little kids such a joy to perform for? Well, for one thing, little kids don’t drink. Or, if they do, it’s usually just a beer or two to take the edge off of all that free ice cream. Because they’re sober, little kids <em>pay attention. </em>And, for boat acts such as myself, getting the audience to pay attention is half the battle. When your typical adults-only, midnight-show crowd consists of inebriated NASCAR fans whose idea of whispering during a live performance is talking with their mouths full, a front row filled with enchanted third-graders staring up at you in wide-eyed fascination is like a breath of fresh, non-rum-and-tequila-scented air.</p>
<p>Because my family show contains inoffensive yet mature material aimed at adult fans of clean comedy, most of my punchlines sail right over the munchkins’ heads. But most kids don’t seem to care. They seem perfectly happy just to be there witnessing my show, if not participating in it. I can almost see the wheels in their tiny noggins spinning as they struggle to wrap their hungry brains around the novel concept of stand-up comedy: “Who is this real-life wizard up on the stage magically making grown-ups laugh with nothing other than the words coming out of his mouth? Can <em>I</em> become a comedian when <em>I</em> grow up or are my grades too good?”</p>
<p>Don’t get me wrong. Performing stand-up for children can be daunting, especially for newer acts. The way our cruise line bills our family-friendly shows can sometimes make the comic’s job more challenging than it needs to be. Parents hear the phrase “family-friendly” and mistakenly assume that our family-friendly shows are <em>for </em>kids. They’re not. They’re for <em>adults</em>. Adults who want to enjoy a professional comedy show without entrusting overworked and sleep-deprived youth counselors to keep Junior from following a bouncy ball over the bow of the ship. Unfortunately, some parents bring their too-young-to-understand toddlers to the comedy club expecting to find an on-board Chuck E. Cheese Pizza Time Theater. Although enthralled grade-schoolers can energize a front row, do you have any idea how hard it is to deliver perfectly timed punchlines with an exhausted rug rat screeching, crying and climbing on his seat—three feet from the stage? It’s enough to make a comic wish he <em>were</em> at Chuck E. Cheese so he could play a nerve-soothing game of “Whack a Two Year Old.”</p>
<p>Even though entertaining adults and kids at the same time with the same jokes is the stand-up comedy equivalent to skiing a black-diamond run, the sense of accomplishment I feel at the bottom of the hill is exhilarating. Nothing makes my day like stepping off an elevator onto Lido Deck and watching a star-struck little boy point up to me and say, “Look, Mommy, it’s that funny lady from the comedy show!”</p>
<p>Nothing, that is, except watching his big sister grin from ear to ear and shout, “Boring!”</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274362013-09-27T12:00:00-12:002023-12-18T20:16:54-12:00The Big "O"
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://jeffthefundude.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/audience-vectors-abstract-wallpapers-vector-wallpaper-1024x768.jpg?w=300" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Audience-vectors-abstract-wallpapers-vector-wallpaper-1024x768" /> </p>
<p>Whenever a comedian’s flight gets canceled, I get paid extra to cover his shows as the fill-in headliner. It’s happened three times in the past two months. I’m not sure if it’s due to the current shortage of air traffic controllers or my voodoo doll shaped like a Delta jet.</p>
<p>The last time I covered for a headliner, I received a standing ovation. This means one of two things:</p>
<ol start="1">
<li>The audience wanted me to know how much they loved my show.</li>
<li>The audience wanted me to know how happy they were it was over.</li>
</ol>
<p>Standing O’s aren’t easy to get. For a comedy club audience to rise to their feet, one of two things has to happen:</p>
<ol start="1">
<li>The audience has to become so lost in the world the comic has created onstage that they experience an epiphany about the human experience that bonds them to the comic on a spiritual level.</li>
<li>The comic has to close his show with an impression of Tom Petty getting a prostate exam.</li>
</ol>
<p>I got my standing O the old-fashioned way: by not sucking as much as expected. Guests never expect me to be as funny as our headliners so I play to these low expectations big time:</p>
<p>We’ve got a great show for you tonight, folks. It’s right after mine.</p>
<p>One of our comics missed the ship so I’m headlining tonight. I’d like to open with a message from the Captain: “No refunds!”</p>
<p>Don’t think of me as a replacement comedian, think of me as slightly less annoying alternative to karaoke.</p>
<p>Although it was a proud moment for me, my lone standing O seemed rather sad compared to the Nolan Ryan moment comedian Rob Little enjoyed earlier in the cruise. Rob received an unprecedented six consecutive standing O’s. All three adults-only shows for that cruise and all three adults-only shows for the previous cruise. If three standing O’s for one cruise is a no-hitter, then six standing O’s for two cruises is a perfect game. And one standing O for one cruise is Not Sucking as Much as Expected.</p>
<p>The following cruise, when the comic I replaced finally showed up, I made the mistake of bragging to him about Rob’s achievement. I might as well have been telling my fiancée I had done my own laundry. She doesn’t believe in miracles either.</p>
<p>I should have known better. Most comics will choose jealousy over inspiration any day of the week. Dane Cook sells out Madison Square Garden, most comics are like, “Aw, he papered the room!”</p>
<p>I’m different: I see another comic succeed, I think, “If he can do it I can do it.” And I did. I got my own standing ovation right after watching Rob get six. I did not, however, get six standing O’s. On the other hand, my standing O was given to me by six people, so we’re even.</p>
<p>In the three weeks since Rob’s record-setting feat, no comedian I have regaled around the campfire with “The Legend of the Six” seemed the least bit impressed. The consensus was: “No way those standing O’s were legitimate!”</p>
<p>It didn't occur to these comics that calling Rob’s six standing ovations illegitimate made them look all the lamer for not getting one. I would much rather admit that I’m not worthy enough to get six standing O’s than admit I couldn't get any from guests who were apparently giving them away like tax breaks to oil companies.</p>
<p>I said to one of my comedy buddies, “If fooling or manipulating a crowd into giving you the ultimate seal of approval is so easy, why aren’t you getting a standing O after every set?”</p>
<p>He said, “Because I have integrity.”</p>
<p>I said, “Would this be the same integrity you displayed while disparaging the remarkable triumph of a fellow performer?”</p>
<p>Just then he jumped to his feet like he was ready to punch me.</p>
<p>Of course, I didn’t take it that way. In my mind, he was giving me a standing O.</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274352013-09-14T12:00:00-12:002023-12-18T20:15:49-12:00Be My Guest, Too
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/cd30515690d4c27d200908c00aa67c1849d10922/original/be-my-guest-too.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MzA2eDE2NSJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="165" width="306" /></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Difficult cruise ship guests can be put into four categories. You can try putting them into five, but they’re not going to cooperate.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">You’ll recognize the four types of difficult guests by their mantras:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">1) “I Paid a Lot to Be Here!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">2) “Nobody Told Me!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">3) “That Doesn’t Make Any Sense!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">4) “I’m Never Cruising on This Ship Again!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline"> “I Paid a Lot to Be Here!”</span></strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">These cruisers believe that spending time and money to go someplace gives them the right to do whatever they want once they get there. Gee, I wonder where they got <em>that</em> from:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">NATIVE AMERICAN:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Pale Face no can own our land—it belong to ‘Big Chief in Sky’!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">WHITE MAN:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“I sailed across the Atlantic, paddled a canoe down the Allegheny, and swam across the Ohio. So get off my lawn, Tonto—I paid a lot to be here!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">How do you think “Whitey” would have liked that logic in reverse?</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">PLANTATION OWNER:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Get to work, boy!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">SLAVE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“All the way from Africa in a rat-infested cargo ship? Pick your own cotton, Cracker—I paid a lot to be here!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">If paying taxes doesn't give you the right to break the laws of the land then why should paying for a cruise give you the right to break the rules of the ship?</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Sorry, sir, but I’ll have to ask you to put a shirt on, please.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“You telling me I can’t walk around shirtless on a <em>cruise ship</em>?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“No, sir, you may—just not on formal night.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“But I paid a lot to be here! Who the hell cares if I’m not wearing a stupid shirt?!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“All these other guests, who not only paid as much as you did, but also paid extra for their tuxedos and evening gowns, sir.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“If these stiffs are supposed to be so classy, why are they puking everywhere?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Because of the dead seagull caught in your back hair, sir.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline">“Nobody Told Me!”</span></strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">The problem with this group is that they continue to cry, “Nobody told me!” even after you've just <em>told</em> them:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Sorry, ma’am, but this lounge is closed for a private function.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Yeah, well, nobody told me!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s a big sign right out front.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“I know, I walked right past it.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Well, ma’am, if you saw the sign, then you should have known the lounge was closed.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“I didn't say I <em>read</em> the sign, I said I walked past it. I didn't know I was supposed to read the sign. Nobody told me I was supposed to read the sign. If the lounge is closed, then you should have someone standing in front of the sign telling people to read the sign that’s telling people that the lounge is closed. Where else am I supposed to sit and read my book now?</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“How about the lounge next door, ma’am? Or the lounge across from it? Or the one below it? Or the one above it? This ship has six dozen lounges, ma’am, but this particular lounge will be closed for the next hour.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Yeah, well, how am I supposed to <em>know</em> that—<em>nobody told me!”</em></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Ma’am. <em>I </em>am right <em>here</em> right now <em>telling</em> you that the lounge is closed.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Well, I’m not leaving!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Why not, ma’am?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“You should have told me the lounge was closed before I came in. I’m already inside, so now it’s too late.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Ma’am, you’re three feet beyond the doorway. I stopped you two seconds after you entered the lounge.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Well, you shouldn't do that to people. We’re here to relax. We pay to fly to the ship, we pay to board the ship, and now you’re saying we’re not allowed to read a book? A book we <em>paid </em>for? How can you treat people like this? If a lounge is closed then somebody should tell people these things.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Sorry, ma’am, but we have a sign right outside the lounge that says, ‘Lounge Closed for Private Function’, and I’m standing here right inside the doorway with the sole purpose of telling guests who missed the sign that the lounge is temporarily—for one single hour of this 168-hour cruise, after which it will remain open to the public <em>ad infinitum</em>—closed.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Well, you should have told me sooner. If I had known this lounge was closed, I never would have booked this damn cruise to begin with.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Ma’am, are you saying somebody should have told you that this particular lounge would be closed for one hour for a private function six months ago when you booked your cruise?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Yes, the travel agency should have told me.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“But, ma’am, how is a travel agency supposed to know about a random one-hour function?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Well, somebody should have told <em>them.”</em></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“I’ll tell you what, ma’am. As soon as this function is over, I can reserve you a quiet table by the window so you can read your book while sipping on a complimentary glass of champagne.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST: “Great—<em>now </em>you tell me!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline">“That Doesn't Make Any Sense!”</span></strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">This is the battle cry of choice for the difficult guests who frequent our comedy club. There’s something about laughing, smiling and having a good time that brings out the worst in some people. Therefore, we have several rules and policies intended to keep disruptions and distractions to a minimum:</span></p>
<ul>
<li><span style="color:#000000"><strong><em>“No-Seat-Saving” Policy:</em></strong><em> To prevent guests from pissing off other guests by reserving huge blocks of seats for friends or family members who are too busy breaking even at the nickel slots to actually come to the comedy show.</em></span></li>
</ul>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Sorry, sir, but I gave you an extra twenty minutes for your party to arrive despite our no-seat-saving policy. Now I’m afraid I’ll have to give these seats to guests who are here.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“That doesn't make any sense! If those people wanted seats they should have gotten here early.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“You mean just like the seven people in you party who haven’t arrived yet?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST (THROWING DRINK IN JTFD’S FACE):</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“If you want to take my seats away, you might as well take my drink, too!)</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE (WIPING DRINK FROM FACE):</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“That doesn’t make any sense—that drink cost you nine dollars!”</span></p>
<ul>
<li><span style="color:#000000"><strong><em>“Clearing the Showroom between Shows” Policy:</em></strong> <em>So our staff can clean up quickly and guests waiting in line can pick their favorite seats.</em></span></li>
</ul>
<p><span style="color:#000000"> JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Sorry, ma’am, but I’ll have to ask you to kindly exit the showroom and join the line for the next show, please.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000"> DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“That doesn't make any sense! I just walked in during the last 10 minutes of the previous show.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000"> JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“In that case, it makes perfect sense, ma’am: you made a conscious decision to come to the show late, thereby missing the announcement of our policy at the beginning of the show. Fortunately, I announced our policy again at the end of the show and, as you watched 650 other compliant guests file past you, you heard me repeat our policy announcement 10 more times over five minutes. Since you've chosen to challenge our policy in full view of hundreds of other guests who were kind enough to cooperate, I have no choice but to confront you personally and ask you to leave. Any discomfort or embarrassment you are feeling right now is a result of your personal choice not to respect your fellow guests by heeding my announcements. Now, if you’d like, ma’am, I can reserve you this seat for the next show. Meaning, if you were to help me keep up appearances by exiting the lounge just like everyone else, I’d put down a “Reserved” sign for you. Then, instead of waiting in line, you can arrive a few minutes before show time and your seat will be waiting for you. But, for the time being, I’ll need you to kindly shut the @#$% up and get the @#$% out!</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000"> DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“That doesn’t make any sense! What the @#$% does @#$% mean? @#$% ain’t even a @#$%-ing word, @#$%-er!”</span></p>
<ul>
<li><span style="color:#000000"> <strong>“No-Talking-During-the-Show”</strong> <strong>Policy:</strong> <em>To make sure our comedians don’t get distracted and our guests don’t miss any punchlines.</em></span></li>
</ul>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Sorry, ma’am, but would you be so kind to keep your table talk down to a whisper for me, please?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST: “That doesn’t make any sense! This guy ain’t funny!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“I’m sorry, ma’am, but could you repeat that? Your words were drowned out by the sound of 600 people laughing.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“That doesn’t make any sense! If I’m talking too loudly, then how come you couldn't hear me?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“It’s called a joke, ma’am. I was just trying to be as unfunny as our headliner.”</span></p>
<ul>
<li><span style="color:#000000"><strong>“No One under the Age of 18 Admitted to the Adults-Only Shows” Policy:</strong> <em>We think that every once in a while a cruise ship should be fun for the people who paid for the cruise…Grandma and Grandpa.</em></span></li>
</ul>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“I’m sorry, sir, but your son is too young to come in—this is an '18-and -over' show.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“You mean to tell me that my 15-year-old smokes, drinks and has unprotected sex, but a few dirty jokes are going to upset his delicate teenage sensibilities?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“First of all sir, congratulations on being a lousy parent. Secondly, we don’t care what your kid listens to, we’d just rather you send him to the casino for 40 minutes so we can take all his dope peddling money at the blackjack table.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline">“I’m Never Cruising on This Ship Again!”</span></strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Difficult guests in this group <em>love</em> me. Anytime I ask them to respect one of our rules or policies, they let me have it: “I’m never cruising on this ship again!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Folks, if you want to get revenge for my enforcing rules designed to make our comedy shows more enjoyable for all our guests, the last thing you want to tell me is that you aren't coming back to my ship. You know what I‘ll think? “Thank you, Baby Jesus!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">If you want to get even with me for not letting you ruin the show for others, don’t threaten to not come back. Threaten to come back next month:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Sorry, sir, but these people have been standing in line for the past 30 minutes. I apologize but I can’t allow you to cut the line, sir.”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">DIFFICULT GUEST:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">“Oh, yeah—well, how about I just call my travel agent and book up all of October?”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">JEFF THE FUN DOUCHE:</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#ffffff"><span style="color:#000000">“You know what, sir, screw those people—come right </span>on in!”</span></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274342013-08-29T12:00:00-12:002023-12-18T20:14:36-12:00Be My Guest
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/73de41d3f90aaee8a9be2ff8f65e16a8d16a2a84/original/images.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjA3eDI0MyJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="243" width="207" /></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000"><span style="color:#ffffff">My<span style="color:#000000"> job is to help guests on my cruise ship experience the vacation of a lifetime. But difficult guests don’t need my help. Their constant complaining can make seven days seem like a lifetime.</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Don’t get me wrong. Helping difficult guests can be very rewarding. As rewarding as a five-dollar gift certificate for the Sharper Image store.</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">My first impulse is always to go the extra mile for difficult guests. Trouble is, that extra mile usually takes me straight through the center of Complaint Town. For example, if a guest complains about slow bar service in the comedy club three minutes after sitting down, I’ll bring her a free drink and watch her eyes light up. Then I’ll watch her chug the drink, become intoxicated and start heckling the comedian with her blouse open. After politely begging her to “button it up” both literally and figuratively, I’ll then watch her stagger off to Guest Services to complain about me, “Jeff the Fun <em>Douche</em>.” If I were smart, I’d avoid all this by saying, “Be patient, sister—you ain't the only person here who can’t spend five minutes trapped on a boat with their family without hitting the hooch!”</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">I define “difficult guest” as any passenger whose anger, aggression, insecurity, vanity or ignorance prevents me or one of my colleagues from providing him with superior customer service. The nautical term for such a guest is “pain in the <em>aft</em>.”</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Guest complaints give me a chance to save the day, to become a hero in some weary traveler’s eyes. <em>Frustrated</em> guests turn to me because they sense I care and can make things happen. <em>Difficult</em> guests seem to get more enjoyment out of being angry than out of enjoying themselves. A dirty spoon, a crowded gangway, an American crew member who calls them on their b.s.—these things are like Viagra for the ego to a difficult guest: <em>If you experience an objection lasting more than four hours, please consult a physician.</em></span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">So, Difficult Guest, I don’t mind if you complain. What I hate is when you thwart my attempt to solve your problem by <em>continuing</em> to complain instead of <em>listening</em> to my <em>solution</em>. Let’s say you start chewing me out because somebody “stole” your seat minutes before the start of a packed comedy show. As comedy club manager my priority is to find you another seat immediately before they’re all gone. I don’t have time to confront the hump who’s sitting in “your” seat and determine who’s right and who’s wrong. If you want justice, call Judge Judy. If you want a seat, hurry up and follow me to the last chair in the house before some drunken college kid wearing a wrestling mask and a sombrero pukes on it.</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">One time I politely asked a gentleman in the front row to remove his feet from the chair in front of him so I could offer it to a lady standing in the back of the room. He obliged and I dragged the chair all the way back to the lady only to have her snap, “I’m not sitting in this chair—that guy had his smelly feet on it for the past twenty minutes!”</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">I wanted so badly to say, “You’re absolutely right, madam. What was I thinking? How about I give this chair right back to “Captain Tinactin” over there and find you one that’s had somebody’s smelly <em>rear </em>on it for the past three hours? Perhaps a first-time cruiser who’s still adjusting to motion sickness and Mexican tap water. Why sit on a foot stool when you can sit on a fart bucket—right, Your Highness? Silly me!”</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Of course, I didn't say that. I said, “I’m sorry I couldn't help you, madam. I’ll gladly reserve you seats for the next show.”</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Then I gave “Captain Tinactin” his foot stool back.</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Another thing difficult guests do wrong is they never complain to the right person. The right person can solve their problem in minutes and they don’t want that. That would eat into their complaining time and it’s only a seven-day cruise. That’s why they’ll instinctually complain to someone from a different department than where their complaint originated. Slow service in the dining room? Don’t mention it to the Maître d’—grumble to the Filipino girl running the water slide; she’ll slide straight down into the galley and start slinging mashed potatoes with the grace and speed of a ninja. The karaoke host hasn’t played your song yet even though 300 other people managed to get there first and sign up ahead of you? Don’t request to see the cruise director—sermonize to the Spanish-speaking guy fixing the elevator; he’ll take the lift straight up to Heaven and personally ask the Virgin Mary to put you up next. Tired of waiting in long lines to go into port? Don’t call Guest Services—harangue the poor guy slicing your pizza at 3:00am; he’ll throw a couple dozen pies onto to the gangway to distract your fellow fat-asses while you make a run for it. Tired of crapping in red plastic bags on Lido Deck while your ship is being towed to Mobile, Alabama? Don’t thank the staff members who labored tirelessly without sleep to keep your misery to a minimum—put on your “Who Farted?” cap and rant at the reporter from CNN; (no need for a CNN joke here because CNN <em>always gets the story right.)</em></span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">One time I was strolling past the main pool on Lido Deck. Wearing my comedy club polo shirt. Sporting my “comedy club manager” name tag. An elderly guest near the edge of the pool barked, “Young man, this pool is much too small for swimming laps!”</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Because my uniform identifies me as a purveyor of punchlines, I thought I’d try a little humor with the gentleman. So, doing my best to sound facetious and not sarcastic, I said, “Yes, sir, we know this pool is too small for swimming laps. That’s why we have another pool in the back of the ship. We want you to swim <em>half</em> a lap in this pool in the front of the ship, jump out, walk through the buffet restaurant in the middle of the ship until you come to the other pool in the back of the ship, jump in, and <em>finish </em>your lap!”</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Instead of laughing he said, “Why, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Making me walk all the way through the damn restaurant just to finish my lap—whose bright idea was <em>that</em>?</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Just then I saw the “I’m not sitting in this chair” lady from the comedy club standing at the other side of the pool. “That’s her, sir, right over there,” I said. “It was <em>her </em>idea.” Another feeble attempt at humor.</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Still not getting me, the old dude mumbled, “Really? Well, I think I’ll march right over there and give her a piece of mind.”</span></p>
<p style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">“Go ahead, sir,” I said with a smile. “Be my guest.”</span></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274332013-08-16T12:00:00-12:002023-12-18T20:13:32-12:00Shut Your Face(book)
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/59a45080e8d0ca31758d87ddbaa73a40ec0123c2/original/bush-devil.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDAweDQ1MCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="450" width="400" /> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>
<p>The great thing about Facebook is it allows average folks to express themselves with words without first having to actually learn how to express themselves with words.</p>
<p>Why struggle through a Writer’s Digest book on argumentative essays just so you can submit a polished opinion piece to your local newspaper when you can simply open a Facebook account, open a can of Old Milwaukee, and then open your mouth?</p>
<p>Who has time for reason and logic when we have a “socialist traitor from Kenya” running amuck in the White House? Quick, somebody teach Honey Boo’s mama how to type—it’s about time those of us too technically challenged to block her from our news feeds hear what she has to say about Obamacare!</p>
<p>I have three main uses for Facebook. One, it allows me to promote my comedy career and keep in touch with fans; two, it allows me to write and post daily topical jokes too perishable to take to the stage; and three, it allows my mom to comment on every single status update I make. Nothing makes me prouder than posting what I consider to be a Conan-worthy monologue joke and then seeing Mom’s face underneath two minutes later saying, “Oh, OK, I get it. Ha-ha.”</p>
<p>I can hardly wait to move out of her basement so I can block her.</p>
<p>Fortunately, Mom isn't the only person who comments on my daily attempts at humor. I usually get lots of likes and kudos whenever I manage to turn a particularly clever phrase such as “Justin Bieber sucks!” (My fans love this type of insightful social commentary.)</p>
<p>The only time I get negative comments is when I make a political joke revealing my decidedly left-of-center worldview. A worldview that clashes sharply with those of my far-right Facebook friends who have their days free to watch FOX News because they've lost their jobs and health insurance and are paying their basic cable bills with unemployment checks they receive from the same government led by the aforementioned “socialist traitor from Kenya,” who is trying his damnedest to give them their jobs and health insurance back.</p>
<p>These people lie in wait for me like Rush Limbaugh stalking a feminazi with a purse full of OxyContin. Two jokes that most recently kicked the hornets’ nest are:</p>
<ol>
<li>“Paula Dean is opening a new fried chicken restaurant. It’s called KKKFC.”</li>
<li>“Thankfully, President George W. Bush is recovering from successful heart surgery. God bless the exceptionally skillful surgeon who was able to find it.”</li>
</ol>
<p>I received several negative comments, such as “Boo, hiss—cheap shot!” and the equally soul-crushing, “Not nice.”</p>
<p>Oh, the vitriol!</p>
<p>Regarding the Bush joke, one friend sent me a link to a Washington Post story about Bush’s recent charity work in Africa. His implied question was, “How can you call Bush a heartless person when he’s spending all his time trying to wipe out AIDS in Africa?”</p>
<p>How? The same way the reporter who wrote the story could fail to mention that Bush executed over 150 prisoners while governor of Texas and, as Commander-in-Chief, invaded a sovereign nation that had nothing to do with 9-11. The story was about neither Bush’s reluctance to seriously consider clemency requests from death-row inmates nor his haste to start a war that would eventually kill over 5,000 American soldiers and over 100,000 Iraqi civilians; it was about his noble philanthropy on the Dark Continent. The reporter didn't want to rehash all the bad things Bush did while in office; he wanted to highlight all the nice things Bush has done since leaving office. Fortunately, this isn't hard to do because Bush’s leaving office is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for anybody.</p>
<p>Of course President Bush has become benevolent and humanitarian—that’s what all presidents with tainted legacies do once they shed the shackles of partisan politics, find inner peace and hear the call to duty. Retirement offers bad presidents the chance to atone for their sins and become great Americans. President Carter builds homes for the homeless and negotiates peace treaties in the Middle East. President Clinton helps promote democracy around the globe by nailing waitresses at The International House of Pancakes. And, when not stopping the spread of AIDS in the sub-Sahara, President Bush is relentlessly pursuing those “evil-doers” who caused last spring’s tornadoes in Oklahoma.</p>
<p>See? I didn't really mean to say “W” doesn't have a heart; I meant to say he doesn't have a brain!</p>
<p>See what I just did there?</p>
<p>It’s called comedy, “Captain Comment,” so relax!</p>
<p>I can understand if some of my Facebook friends don’t find me funny. Like I said, even Mom doesn't think I’m funny. Her favorite joke to tell is, ”What’s the difference between a large pizza and a stand-up comedian? A large pizza can feed a family of four.”</p>
<p>Hey, when the woman who gave you life thinks you’re a babbling douche, it’s hard to worry about what Facebook addicts still wrestling with the baffling intricacies of the QWERTY keyboard think about your generic Paula Dean joke. So the only problem I have with friends responding negatively to a joke that awakens their Inner O’ Reilly is that their comments are almost never funny.</p>
<p>Ever since Dennis Miller went over to the Dark Side after getting the boot from “Monday Night Football,” I haven’t agreed with a single word he’s said. But he still makes me laugh. I can laugh at a Michael Moore joke just as easily as a Sarah Palin joke—just as long as a master comedian like Dennis Miller is making it. (Especially, if Dennis were to call Michael Moore a brain-dead, bible-thumping, geographically challenged media whore from Alaska.”)</p>
<p>Everyone on Facebook has the right to his or her own opinion. But not on my wall. Your opinions belong on your wall. My Facebook wall is for showcasing cheesy and derivative topical jokes that Jay Leno wouldn't pay 50 bucks for during a writers’ strike.</p>
<p>The dittohead who commented, “Boo, hiss—cheap shot!” didn't play by the rules of the game. He didn't counter my joke with a joke of his own. “Cheap shot” is not funny. What he should have written was, “Hey, Fun Dude, the next time you’re at Paula Dean’s restaurant why don’t you ask to borrow some butter so you can grease your ass up enough to pull your head out of it?!”</p>
<p>That would have been hilarious! Not to mention, the pilot episode for my new Food Network series.</p>
<p>I have one Facebook friend who alternates between upbeat status updates thanking God for the tiny miracles in his life and angry posts parroting Rush Limbaugh’s daily attacks on President Obama. In real life, my friend is a great guy—gentle, smart, caring and sensitive; online, he mutates into a Sean-Hannity-worshiping hypocrite who calls Obama a socialist but then tries to censor me as if he’s a colonel in the KGB. And yet even though I think that every one of his anti-Obama outbursts is utter nonsense, I haven’t removed him from my news feed nor have I posted any negative comments on his wall. That’s because I view his Facebook wall as his private sanctuary for speaking his mind against the din of a cruel and indifferent world, within which very few normal people ever get the chance to be heard.</p>
<p>That and I’m usually too busy picturing Michael Moore naked.</p>
<p>I was going to say I’m usually too busy picturing Sarah Palin naked, but I wouldn't want to get any negative comments on Facebook, now would I?</p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274322013-08-09T12:00:00-12:002023-12-18T20:09:15-12:00Bon Voyage!
<p style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Open Sans', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-align: center;"><a style="color: #3c2bb6;" href="http://jeffthefundude.files.wordpress.com/2013/08/bon-voyage.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://jeffthefundude.files.wordpress.com/2013/08/bon-voyage.jpg?w=300" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Bon Voyage" height="162" style="cursor: default;" width="300" /></a></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">I’d like to wish all of you an exciting, fun-filled cruise. Of course, I realize this can’t happen for everyone. Some of you are going to drink too much and fall overboard; others will sustain serious brain injuries in water-ski accidents and become lifelong Justin Bieber fans.</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Some of you will move so slowly in the buffet line that one of your very own blood relatives will stab you in the eye with a dessert spoon.</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Some of you will eat so much you might get stuck in the water slide, sink the tender boat or simply explode into a million sugar-coated pieces.</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Many more of you will be stricken with gastrointestinal disorders that will keep you glued to your toilet seat paying homage to the National Park System with your inverted impression of “Old Faithful.”</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">And let’s not forget the muggings and shootings in Mexico. There will be lots of those. Better yet, some of you may be kidnapped and held for ransom which your in-laws will never pony up because they've already paid for your cruise and won't feel like dipping into their gambling money.</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Some of you will lie out in the sun for seven hours your first day without sunscreen because the TSA took it away (those lotion Nazis!) and the threat of skin cancer isn't motivation enough to pay $90 for a pinky-sized tube in the gift shop, so—surprise-surprise!—you’ll spend the rest of the cruise looking like an atomic lobster chasing handfuls of Advil with double piña coladas and shrieking in agony every time a cool tropical breeze brushes your skin.</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Some of you might mix rum and tequila, get in a fist-fight with a donkey, wind-up in a Mexican jail cell—with the donkey, which, after some couples’ counseling, you’ll wind up marrying—and miss the ship. Good news is you’ll be offered your very own reality show on Telemundo called “The Burro Whisperer."</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Still others will fall out of a moving taxi while shouting, “Hey, look, it’s ‘Jeff the Fun Dude’ trying to enjoy a romantic walk with his fiancée—let’s scream at him and spoil the mood!”</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Some of you will tell “Jeff the Fun Dude” he was funnier than the Punchliner headliner and get struck by lightning.</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Some of you will drink so many one-dollar beers in Jamaica you’ll stumble in front of a speeding Red Stripe truck, causing a reggae band to stop playing long enough to drag your lifeless body out of the street to the boos of your fellow cruisers as your plastered brother-in-law hovers over you shouting, “Buzz kill!”</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">While swimming in the ocean, some of you will mistake a shark for a dolphin and lose an arm. (This will cut the amount of one-dollar beers you can drink in half.)</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Some of you will be molested by a Stingray and appear on “The Jerry Springer Show.”</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Some of you will win Bingo three times in a row, causing an adorable old lady in a red hat to beat you to death with her walker. On the bright side, you’ll get over 3,000,000 hits on YouTube.</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Those of you who are lucky enough to avoid such misfortunes can look forward to noisy neighbors, crying babies, slow Wi-Fi, pushy cab drivers, sleeve-tugging four-year-olds selling Chiclets, six-dollar ATM surcharges, Vietnamese jugglers, engine room fires, tropical storms, hurricanes, tidal waves, gun-toting pirates, manatee attacks, pick-pocketing monkeys, flesh-eating viruses, piranhas in your Speedo, horny killer whales who mistake the bow of the ship for Lady Ga Ga, the Kraken, Sigmund the Sea Monster or the Loch Ness Monster (depending on your ship), and shape-shifting alien octopi which will attach themselves to your face, suck out your brains, steal your identity and charge $10,000 worth of rum cakes to your sail & sign account.</span></p>
<p style="color: #333333; line-height: 19px;"><span style="color:#000000">Therefore, many of you will not get to enjoy the exciting, fun-filled cruise I’m wishing for you. So just try to have as much fun as you can.</span></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274312013-08-02T12:00:00-12:002023-12-18T20:07:31-12:00The Boat Act Blues
<p style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/395812/794676d0290f4333d4cc39c0e390b7814bd14e17/original/boat-act-blues.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6NDk1eDMwMCJd.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="300" width="495" /></span></strong></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Being a cruise-ship comedian is an easy gig. Perform two or three 30-minute sets a night, four nights a week, and you’re done.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">That leaves you 163 hours of free time every week to…</span></p>
<ul>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Get to the airport at 4:00am and spend one hour admiring the efficiency of the TSA, one hour at the bar knocking back beers with the captain waiting for your plane to have its wings welded back on, and 12 hours luxuriating in coach class at the very back of the plane in that “Marquis de Sade” seat that doesn't recline, squeezed between a flatulent sumo wrestler and a Chatty Cathy with restless legs syndrome as you fly from Cleveland to Philadelphia to Atlanta to Detroit to Chicago to Houston to Miami to Maui to Nassau, saving your employer a whopping fifty bucks on your airfare.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Spend 30 minutes at the Nassau Airport waiting for the port agent to pick you up as you count the number of Bahamian cabbies who ask if you “want a taxi, mon?! Taxi! Taxi! Come on, my friend—taxi!” (678.)</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Amuse yourself by swearing your head off with a Bahamian accent upon realizing your ship is in Freeport.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">After bribing a water taxi captain $100 and a picture of your stripper girlfriend to "James Bond" you to Nassau before your ship leaves, sit on the dock in the scorching heat for 20 minutes while some uniformed guy with a clipboard radios another guy, who radios another guy, who radios another guy, who then drives up in a golf cart, radios the first guy standing right next to him, and says that you’re not on the list.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Rack up international roaming charges trying to reach someone back at the office in Miami but every time you dial the emergency contact number listed on your itinerary you get the Papa John’s in Key Biscayne.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Try not to strangle the uniformed guy with the clipboard when he informs you that he was accidentally holding the list upside down so, OK, you can board now.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Spend the next 40 minutes tracking down someone from Housekeeping to clean your cabin after the outgoing comedian left it looking like David Lee Roth’s hotel room; because, for some reason, the regularly assigned cabin steward hasn't picked up on the pattern of <em>one comedian leaving and another one coming</em> even though that’s exactly what has happened cruise after cruise, month after month, year after year, ever since he first started working for the cruise line 15 years ago after quitting his job as “The Most Unobservant Man in Malaysia.”</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Comb the entire ship in search of your show times because the comedy club manager forgot to leave your schedule for you at the gangway and so now you can’t take a nap without knowing if you have to perform tonight because you’re afraid that your jet lag will cause you to oversleep and be replaced by a juggling Italian from the engine room.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Spend five minutes explaining to a Filipino security guard with a hearing impairment that the reason you’re wearing blue jeans in a guest area is because you’re a fly-on comedian who just came aboard and is simply trying to find out when your show times are and get your cabin cleaned so you can take a much-needed nap. Mercifully, he unholsters his cell phone and calls for someone to assist you. After a few seconds you hear him say, “Hello, I have a Canadian here who just gave an ironing board and wants to know what time he can show how clean his cabin is to someone who reads a map.”</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Wait for what seems like an eternity for the arrival of the comedy club manager and housekeeping manager, whose first words out of their mouths are: “You’re not supposed to be wearing blue jeans in a guest area!”</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Stomp back to your cabin in a huff, lie down on your still unmade bunk and close your eyes for the first time in 48 hours just in time to hear the cruise director’s smiley-happy boat drill announcements blast through the distorted speaker right above your head like a CIA drone strike to the soul.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Meet with the aforementioned cruise director, who informs you that a few of your jokes are in bad taste and have been getting complaints from past guests. After you offer to drop the jokes he asks if he can use them in his travel talk.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Skip dinner for a 6:00pm sound check which never happens because the ship’s groups coordinator extended the swinging seniors single group’s polka-square dance-bingo-scrap booking jamboree until 6:30 which means the sound tech will be unavailable because at 6:15 he has to help a busty Russian waitress from the steakhouse unlock her new iPhone in the hopes of seeing her naked.</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Call the cruise director after your first family show and explain that you had to perform your entire set with no stage lights and no microphone because the sound tech never showed up. And, to make matters worse, you had to shout over a front row filled with crying babies and screeching toddlers because the comedy club “manager” was in the back of the room hitting on a one-eyed Serbian waitress instead of doing his job. (Which is to introduce <em>you</em> to the one-eyed Serbian waitress.)</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Resist the urge to kick a stroller down a flight of stairs after the cruise director reminds you that you are a <em>professional</em> comedian and <em>professionals</em> are supposed to handle <em>anything</em>. (Be sure to hang up before mentioning that you were booked to perform in a <em>professional</em> comedy club.)</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">After two more shows and six Red Bulls, lie awake in your bunk until 4:00am listening to dance hits of the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s because everyone knows that the perfect accommodation for someone who just traveled all day, performed three shows, and has to get up at 6:00am for immigration is a cabin right above the disco on “Gangsta Hip-Hop Night.”</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Show up to Immigration the next morning five minutes early and discover that you’re actually 10 minutes late because the meeting time changed and nobody told you, then get yelled at for not bringing the form you were supposed to bring because nobody gave it to you but now it’s your fault; because, if nobody told you that the meeting time changed and nobody gave you the form you needed, then “you should have said something.”</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Meet with the hotel director after breakfast to address complaints from a guest you asked to stop heckling you during your midnight show. It doesn't matter that this guest was drunk, naked and loudly practicing his “Duck Dynasty” duck calls in the middle of your set; as an experienced professional, you should know that you can’t ask a guest who is talking, heckling, screaming or duck-calling to be quiet. This semi-illiterate, inbred, alcoholic sociopath is still a <em>guest</em> and <em>all</em> guests are important. (Except for the other 649 guests who were unable to enjoy the show because of <em>him.</em>)</span></li>
<li><span style="color:#000000">Sulk dejectedly over to the coffee shop in search of an ice mocha latte to lift your spirits, and spend the next four hours listening to guests and crew members alike tell you what an easy life you have.</span></li>
</ul>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color:#000000">THE END (OF YOUR CAREER)</span></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274302013-07-24T12:00:00-12:002023-12-18T20:06:33-12:00Cruising for a Snoozing
<p style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><a href="http://jeffthefundude.files.wordpress.com/2013/07/insomnia1.jpg" data-imported="1"><img src="http://jeffthefundude.files.wordpress.com/2013/07/insomnia1.jpg?w=290" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Image" id="i-16" style="cursor: default; display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></a></p>
<p style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"> </p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Living and working on a cruise ship can be a lot of fun. You get to meet interesting, hardworking people from around the world and scream at them in your underwear when they're line dancing to “Gangnam Style” in the hallway at three in the morning just because, to someone whose name is so long his name-tag reads like an eye chart, a great big sign in English which reads, “Quiet Hours: 11:00pm-7:00am," looks an awful lot like “Happy Hour: All Night Long!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">If you’re lucky, some of them might even be culturally literate enough to realize that a groggy American standing outside his door in his underwear at 3:00am squinting little xenophobic daggers of hate in their direction is the international symbol for “Hey, fellas, I’m trying to sleep!” and not “Hey, somebody grab this naked party monster a Corona! …Eh- Sexy Lady, Oppa is Gangnam style!”</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Don’t get me wrong. Working on a cruise ship is a dream job. Only you don’t get to do much dreaming. That would require falling into deep R.E.M. sleep and that’s hard to do when “Shashibhushan” is shouting manic Hindi into the house phone right outside your cabin with all the melody of a braking freight train, trying to get his third cousin “Maneesh” back in Mumbai to help him unlock his new i-Phone so he can squat in that echo chamber of a stairwell on the other side of your cracker-thin cabin wall streaming Bollywood musicals at full volume with no headphones while you lie awake in your bunk with your fingers in your ears picturing that new Starbucks that just opened up down the street from your parents’ house and wondering how hard can it really be to operate an espresso machine.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">My fiancée and I return from vacation this Saturday and we can’t wait to see where our cabin will be located. Will it be at the front of the ship where we can hear the CLANG-CLANG-CLANG of the anchor? Or at the back of the ship where can hear the THUMP-THUMP-THUMP of the disco? Will we be residents of the “Dancers’ Corridor,” home to super-talented twenty-something break dancers who can do triple back flips and one-arm handstands but can’t seem to drink a raspberry wine cooler without channeling their inner Bieber at the top of their lungs? Or perhaps the “Shoppies’ Hallway,” where normally courteous gift shop workers offer tribute to Heineken, the Dutch god of the eighteen-hour work day, by punctuating each sip of beer with a door slam so thunderous it could wake up the comedy club manager on the Titanic and send him scurrying to the dentist with his back molars in his hand?</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Who your roommate is has a lot to do with how much sleep you get on a cruise ship. Not everyone can have a roommate who quietly closes the cabin door behind him by slowly twisting the handle while seating the latch, gets undressed with a pocket flashlight while silencing his metal belt buckle, closes the bathroom door gently before brushing his teeth and then lays his clothes out for the next morning so he can get dressed for tender duty at seven a.m. without disturbing your sleep because he knows how hard you worked the day before. (Note: this is where he may or may not kiss you on the forehead.)</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Not everyone can have a roommate like this because <em>there is only one of me!</em> I’M THE ONLY ONE! Every other male roommate you will ever have on a cruise ship will stumble into the cabin drunk at 3:00am, slam the door, flip on the light, turn on the TV, slam his closet drawers open and shut, and then take a ten-minute whiz with the bathroom door open until you start dreaming about riding a water taxi over Niagara Falls. Yet the moment you jump out of bed and start choking him with his own jangling belt like David Carradine in a Bangkok bordello, all of a sudden <em>you’re </em>the bad guy!</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">If it weren’t for the fact that my fiancée and I work on the same ship together, I wouldn't be able to live this lifestyle any longer. Željka is not only my best friend, she is the most thoughtful and considerate roommate I've ever had. No other roommate has learned how to get ready for work or ready for bed without waking me up the way Željka has. No other roommate has learned how to come and go at all hours without waking me up the way Željka has.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">That’s because no other roommate has learned how to spike my Sleepytime Tea with Bacardi and Ambien the way Željka has.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">She listens to me whine about the noise in the hallway. She listens to me moan about my seven a.m. wake up call. Then she offers me a long sip from my Sponge Bob juicy cup and watches me sail away into sweet, sweet silence.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000000">Then she goes out into the hallway and joins the party.</span></p>
jeffthefundude.comtag:jeffthefundude.com,2005:Post/60274292013-06-05T12:00:00-12:002023-12-18T20:04:21-12:00"The Fun Dude Goes Hollywood!"
<p>While building this site I stumbled across my short-lived "The Fun Dude" blog on Blogger. Although I decided I wouldn't be able to maintain a blog while working on a cruise ship at that stage of my Carnival career, I managed to write a halfway-decent three-part piece about my weekend trip to Los Angeles back in May of 2009:</p>
<p><strong>"The Fun Dude Goes Hollywood Act 1"</strong> <a href="http://thefundude.blogspot.com/2009/05/fun-dude-goes-hollywood.html" data-imported="1">http://thefundude.blogspot.com/2009/05/fun-dude-goes-hollywood.html</a></p>
<p>"<strong>The Fun Dude Goes Hollywood Act 2" </strong><a href="http://thefundude.blogspot.com/2009/05/fun-dude-goes-hollywood-act-2.html" data-imported="1">http://thefundude.blogspot.com/2009/05/fun-dude-goes-hollywood-act-2.html</a></p>
<p><strong>"The Fun Dude Goes Hollywood Act 3" </strong><a href="http://thefundude.blogspot.com/2009/05/fun-dude-goes-hollywood-act-3.html" data-imported="1">http://thefundude.blogspot.com/2009/05/fun-dude-goes-hollywood-act-3.html</a></p>
jeffthefundude.com