Tags: silly

I'm not always the smartest guy on the planet.


(That's not exactly what I mean, of course. Because that would imply that sometimes, I am the smartest guy on the planet. And we all know that the smartest guy on the planet is Ben Stein. No, really. Just ask him.)


Anyway, I could be brighter. I just need a few more years of schooling, and maybe a tutor or three, and better genetics, and... well, anyway. You get the idea. In the meantime, I'm stuck with the mental deficiencies that I have. And one of the worst problems is this -- I'm constantly confusing similar-sounding words, usually with embarrassing and lawsuit-threatening results. Here are just a few of the mixed-up mishaps I've had recently:


penal vs. penile: First, I found out that 'penal implants' are way more painful that one might at first expect. But at least I can sleep easier knowing that there's no such thing as 'penile incarceration'. Eek.


astute and hirsute: You know, I thought I was complimenting my boss on her superior acumen. I wondered why she got so upset about it. But did she really need to 'prove' me wrong? I nearly went blind, dammit!


funereal vs. venereal: I suppose I should have realized that 'funereal disease' wouldn't make much sense -- if you've made it to the funeral, it's probably too late to worry about any sort of cooties. But maybe I was distracted, trying to imagine what a 'venereal procession' might look like. Now that's worth stopping traffic for.


mandatory vs. masturbatory: Um, yeah. Can we just say that I've had some really interesting 'required attendance' meetings at the office, and leave it at that? Man, that's a mistake you only make... well, six or seven times, apparently. *sigh*


fascist vs. fetishist: You know -- this one really hasn't caused me too many problems. I don't even try to keep 'em straight any more. I just steer clear in either case, and try not to make eye contact.


protagonist vs. proctologist: I finally sorted these out, and it explained an awful lot -- I'd always wondered why people would think so highly of the folks who snake cameras up old guys' butts, and why so many movies and books seemed to be made about ass doctors. It all makes much more sense now.


thespian vs. lesbian: I used to act, back in high school. And I always got really confused when people asked if I was a 'budding thespian'. Confused... and strangely excited. If only there'd been the prospect of some hot and steamy thespian sex.


bollocks vs. molluscs: I've got to get this one straight -- I'm going to London for vacation in a few weeks, and I don't know what to yell when I'm cut off in traffic over there. And I'm gonna look pretty bloody stupid essentially exclaiming, 'Oysters!' at inappropriate moments. See, there's a time to cry out, 'Oysters!', and there's a time to not cry out, 'Oysters!' And I'm pretty sure getting edged out of a roundabout in Trafalgar Square is not one of those times. Bitches!


prophylactic vs. prosthetic: Believe me, it's no picnic trying to explain what you meant when you remarked on your co-worker's 'prophylactic leg'. But that's nothing compared to telling your wife that you're 'coming to bed with a prosthetic on, so get ready'. I've never seen her run so fast.


quaff vs. queef: Um... yeah. Let's just say that you never want to mix these two words up, and leave it at that. It's way too easy to be misunderstood. And now there's a waitress out there somewhere that I'm not legally allowed to get within a hundred yards of.


Now, you see why I have such a hard time getting along in the world? Man, I'm such an Anbesol sometimes.


Wait, not 'Anbesol', that other thing. Dammit, you know what I mean!


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THE SCENE: Your local retirement complex, on any given Tuesday evening.


"I-19."


"G-53."


"B-2."


"BIG! I spelled B-I-G!"


"It's BINGO, Mrs. Brown. Not BIG. Keep playing. O-70."


"GOBI! GOBI over here!"


"I'm sorry, no."


"It's a desert! I'm not making it up this time!"


"It is a desert, yes. But it's not BINGO. O-68."


"B-*sigh*. B-14."


"BOOB! BOOB! B-O-O-B, boooooob!"


"Mr. Reynolds, no. And let go of Mrs. Harrison's shawl. We've discussed this. N-37."


"Nothing? No one has a bingo yet? G-55."


"I-22. Anyone?"


"N-44?... Meh. Fine, what have you got?"


"I got a BOOG."
"BIGGIO?"

"BOOBING! BOOBING! BOOBING!"
"CHECKMATE! King me already, ya mensch, ya."

"GIBBON!"


"Close enough, GIBBON it is. Extra applesauce for Mrs. Graham tonight. Can we watch Jeopardy now?"


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