Hard to know where to start with such a cornucopia of humor. Perhaps this: I think Father’s Day should only come once every five years or so. That would provide me plenty of time to answer the question, “so what do you want to do for Father’s Day, honey?”
You always make me LAUGH OUT LOUD…. Never fails. If it’s Friday it’s Dave’s day. I have several of your books and I laugh at every story even if I read it the night before. You’re keeping us regular folks afloat. XOXO
Australia - our most current World Cup archenemy - is also the only country in the world whose inhabitants have had their flatulence patterns recorded. This should give the American team an advantage, as we’ll know exactly when the Australians are running out of gas.
My only experience on the soccer field was in college, where I was asked to play goalie for an intramural team made up of South American students; as their goalie was suffering from the “Green Apple 2-Step”, due in part to a hard night of drinking and eating something old his fraternity brother discovered in the back of the refrigerator. Our opponents were a group of players assembled due to their commonality of all being overweight, short, none-athletic, and having no idea about the rules of soccer. As the game progressed, the players and the ball never got within 50 yards (or meters, whatever) of me, so I spent my time sitting on the crossbar watching the game and eating beef jerky. The end result was that I was undefeated as a goalie, and am currently retired from competition.
Similar, but opposite. My team of overweight non-athletic dads put me on defense. I attempted a very cool header against a French player's goal shot. Next thing, I was lying on my back, opening my eyes, and looking up at a circle of concerned players, "You all right, Ron?" My first and last futball game.
I spent a few hours yesterday with the Scottish Tartan Army contingent that has taken over Providence, RI, and none of them are offended. They are a hard-drinking, hard-partying, sociable group who are loads of fun to hang with.
My wife remains skeptical of the science, as she believes that my flatulence is not an indicator of "digestive health", but an indicator that something died inside of me, perhaps last month. My kids add that further study should be done on loss of embouchure in old age and what the word "gaslighting" really means: as in "no, really, the dog did it" or "should one use a match or a lighter?". As an aside, my grandkids think the word "flatus" is hilarious.
My mother in law also thought the phrase "expelling flatus" was hilarious. Every time she related the story about the doctor asking if she had, she'd crack up.
Thanks for making me laugh out loud, Dave. I really needed that--this Father's Day will be the second one without my dad. And mom just died this April, so it feels a bit more real.
It's like you gave me oxygen after a deep-in-the-gut one-two sucker punch.
Thanks so much, Carol. Beyond missing my dad, It will be awesome— I’ll be seeing my Navy son. Haven’t seen him in 6 months! This distance is not helpful to my grief 🙃 Life!!
I think I speak for all of us paying subscribers when I say that you, Dave Barry, are the master of humor and subject changing. What a ride on the hilarity meter! From Fathers Day to farting to the World Cup, War bonnets, Cheez-its and so much more told in a semi-coherent way. We bow to you, sir!
I have just realized that sophomoric humor is WAY above my maturity level.
Also I readily admit that last year I was named the world's third highest producer of Methane gas, trailing China and the combined output of Taco Bell patrons.
…and the cows of the world (and all their various cousins) who, according to multiple scientific and ecological studies, are and will continue to be #1. 😉 But, really…congratulations, Dennis! 😊
How dare those people (you know who I mean) call soccer football? Sure, we're outnumbered about 180 to 1, but we have it right and they have it wrong! Right? Right??
As an American, I speak for all of us when I proudly say "The world cup is going on?"
I haven't felt this patriotic since Eurovision.
😆
Hard to know where to start with such a cornucopia of humor. Perhaps this: I think Father’s Day should only come once every five years or so. That would provide me plenty of time to answer the question, “so what do you want to do for Father’s Day, honey?”
You always make me LAUGH OUT LOUD…. Never fails. If it’s Friday it’s Dave’s day. I have several of your books and I laugh at every story even if I read it the night before. You’re keeping us regular folks afloat. XOXO
Australia - our most current World Cup archenemy - is also the only country in the world whose inhabitants have had their flatulence patterns recorded. This should give the American team an advantage, as we’ll know exactly when the Australians are running out of gas.
Well done. Very nice. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
My only experience on the soccer field was in college, where I was asked to play goalie for an intramural team made up of South American students; as their goalie was suffering from the “Green Apple 2-Step”, due in part to a hard night of drinking and eating something old his fraternity brother discovered in the back of the refrigerator. Our opponents were a group of players assembled due to their commonality of all being overweight, short, none-athletic, and having no idea about the rules of soccer. As the game progressed, the players and the ball never got within 50 yards (or meters, whatever) of me, so I spent my time sitting on the crossbar watching the game and eating beef jerky. The end result was that I was undefeated as a goalie, and am currently retired from competition.
GO TEAM!
Similar, but opposite. My team of overweight non-athletic dads put me on defense. I attempted a very cool header against a French player's goal shot. Next thing, I was lying on my back, opening my eyes, and looking up at a circle of concerned players, "You all right, Ron?" My first and last futball game.
You have just described my ideal athletic pursuit. Except I’d probably eat something less beefy. Like a Snickers.
I spent a few hours yesterday with the Scottish Tartan Army contingent that has taken over Providence, RI, and none of them are offended. They are a hard-drinking, hard-partying, sociable group who are loads of fun to hang with.
My wife remains skeptical of the science, as she believes that my flatulence is not an indicator of "digestive health", but an indicator that something died inside of me, perhaps last month. My kids add that further study should be done on loss of embouchure in old age and what the word "gaslighting" really means: as in "no, really, the dog did it" or "should one use a match or a lighter?". As an aside, my grandkids think the word "flatus" is hilarious.
My mother in law also thought the phrase "expelling flatus" was hilarious. Every time she related the story about the doctor asking if she had, she'd crack up.
Now that’s a band name!
Happy father's day Dave. For the record 1. I thought the song was "Money Money" 2. Zero farts were released during my reading of your story.
I'm Scottish and here a fart is known as a kilt lifter.
I really do love the educational posts!
I think Tony Kornheiser had a great quote about Father’s Day:
“What I want for Father’s Day is to be able to play golf on Mother’s Day.”
Thanks for making me laugh out loud, Dave. I really needed that--this Father's Day will be the second one without my dad. And mom just died this April, so it feels a bit more real.
It's like you gave me oxygen after a deep-in-the-gut one-two sucker punch.
Glad to help. I miss my Dad, too.
Thanks. 😊 Happy Farhers Dat to you!
I’m sorry for your loss. Hope that Sunday turns out to be a beautiful day, if bittersweet, day for you.
Thanks so much, Carol. Beyond missing my dad, It will be awesome— I’ll be seeing my Navy son. Haven’t seen him in 6 months! This distance is not helpful to my grief 🙃 Life!!
Other possible rock band names: "Mom Farts Down Under," "The Escalator Rowers," and "The Cheez-It Zinkers"
MerryCatholic.substack.com
I’d pay to see Mom Farts Down Under just to get some merch.
Especially the scratch-n-sniff tee shirts.
I think I speak for all of us paying subscribers when I say that you, Dave Barry, are the master of humor and subject changing. What a ride on the hilarity meter! From Fathers Day to farting to the World Cup, War bonnets, Cheez-its and so much more told in a semi-coherent way. We bow to you, sir!
Who are you calling semi-coherent?
:-) Ah, you?
In that case: Thank you!
You Dude! Duh?
I have just realized that sophomoric humor is WAY above my maturity level.
Also I readily admit that last year I was named the world's third highest producer of Methane gas, trailing China and the combined output of Taco Bell patrons.
…and the cows of the world (and all their various cousins) who, according to multiple scientific and ecological studies, are and will continue to be #1. 😉 But, really…congratulations, Dennis! 😊
How dare those people (you know who I mean) call soccer football? Sure, we're outnumbered about 180 to 1, but we have it right and they have it wrong! Right? Right??
Our game is football, and theirs is fuut-bowl, which reminds me of what you might see in a pedicure shop.
The US team must be on guard in their game against Australia. They will be playing a country who keep their farts numbered for such a contingency.
If you know what I mean. And since we’re all 12 years old and here reading Dave, I think you do.