Anthony Trask » Humor

Epic Moments in History, Part 3

Anthony — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 01:01:39 +0000

In 1927 Walt Disney was putting the finishing touches on his newly sketched-out mouse character, Mickey. As he traced over his pencil lines with black ink, the pen sprung a leak and spouted two large black ink blots right on top of the small perky little mouse ears that adorned the top of Mickey’s head. This resulted in Mickey having black abnormally large, perfectly rounded ears on top of his head. Walt almost wadded up the sketch and tossed it into the waste basket, but something beyond his control stopped him. The big ears just seemed so right. And the rest is history.

The contents of Epic Moments in history are entirely false and for entertainment purposes only.

Epic Moments in History, Part 2

Anthony — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 23:58:33 +0000

In 1901 Dr. Frank Russel was enjoying some peanut butter on some freshly made bread while writing out some reports on patients he had seen for the day. He stepped outside, momentarily, to use the bathroom. While he did, his three year-old daughter helped herself into his chair and began eating her piece of that bread, with some home made strawberry jelly, over his papers. Three large dollops of jelly fell from her bread onto her father’s, covering the his layer of peanut butter. When she realized that she had made a mess, she ran off to prevent getting scolded by her father. Once Dr. Russel returned, he sat down, began writing, and reached down to take a bite of his bread and peanut butter. As he took the bite, he was pleasantly surprised to find that some jelly had dropped onto late night snack. What would normally seem repulsive, Dr. Russel discovered, was actually quite delicious. He never found out how the jelly got there, but he began spreading the word to all of his friends, family, and patients about how good peanut butter and jelly was together.

And the rest is history.

Epic Moments In History, Part 1

Anthony — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 23:31:43 +0000

In 1990 young Kichimo Hiromiki was playing Super Mario Land on his Game Boy while waiting in line to ride go karts at his local theme park. That’s when it hit him! One day he could combine his love for Mario and his love for go kart racing in a game he vowed to call, Mario Kart! The rest is history!

Tips, Tricks, and Etiquette for Senior’s With Cell Phones

Anthony — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 22:13:48 +0000

1. ALWAYS silence your cell phone when going into a:

a] church,

b] wedding,

c] movie,

d] play,

e] concert

f] serious conversation, intervention, or counseling session, or a

g] funeral

I’m a pastor and are in some of the previous scenarios more than the average person, and it never ceases to amaze me how so many people, especially seniors, do not silence their phones before entering into one of these scenarios. This is especially true for funerals- the most inappropriate time to have your cell phone unsilenced. I have been to many funerals over the past few years and can say with all certainty that not one of the funerals that I have been to recently has been a ‘cell phone ring-free’ service- really.

So for the sake of all appropriateness, ask your grand kids how to silence your phone. They’ll be happy to show you, and a whole new world will be opened to you.

2. NEVER answer a call when you are in any of the previous scenarios- EVER!

You’re not the president. Whoever is calling you can wait. Don’t show disrespect for the person you’re with or talking to by answering a call. Can you imagine having a face to face conversation with someone, then just walking away during the middle of your conversation to talk to someone else, then entering back into the conversation with the original person whenever you feel like it like nothing ever happened? Not likely. Remember, the same rules applies when someone calls your phone. People can leave a message, and you can call them back, If someone doesn’t have that kind of patience (to wait for you to call them back), do you really want to be having a conversation with them in the first place?

Exceptions to the rule would be if you are responsible for your child or grandchild, and the person watching them for you, tries to call you. There may be an emergency you need to deal with. Another exception would be if you are with someone you are always with, and your spouse calls. Your spouse, your children, and your grandchildren are more important than everyone else anyways, so don’t feel bad about taking a call related to one of them. Just make sure the timing is appropriate, and that you excuse yourself by stating who it is and why it is imperative you take their call. You may have a job that requires you to answer calls at all times, but there are situations and events where you should never answer a call, and if you have to, you need to excuse yourself and quietly leave the situation.

If you’re in a funeral, wedding, movie, or church service and you get a call that you have to answer- not everyone needs to know. Let it go to voicemail and quietly sneak out of the event t call back the party in private.

3. If you’re having a hard time hearing the person on the other line; yelling will not help.

Yelling will actually make things worse, as you will create feedback that will make it hard for both of you to hear. Try simply turning up your phone’s volume. Your grand kids can show you how to do that too!

4. Sticking your tongue out to dial a number or text message does not make it easier- it just doesn’t.

5. Young people are not impressed with your choice of ringtones- sometimes they’re just inappropriate or over-the-top.

If at any point you’re thinking of choosing Justin Timberlake’s “I’m Bringing Sexy Back,” or Beyonce’s “All the Single Ladies,” just don’t.

And finally(for now).

6. There will never, ever, be a dial-tone on your cell phone.

Just let it go. The longing for that familiar sound will subside.

THIS IS AMAZING!!!! (and a little irreverent)

Anthony — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 03:06:39 +0000

Oh Man! My best friend sent me this today and it made my day!!!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ef3K-EB4Ryk

Why I Won’t Go To The Gym

Anthony — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 19:38:08 +0000

So I am committed to exercising and eating right. I consider myself, because of my hard work and dedication, to be in very good shape. And because of such dedication, I have transformed my body and have lost about 60 lbs in less than a year.

The exercise routine I follow is running, abs, and light weights. The abs and weights I do in my home. And the running I do exclusively outside.

Lately it has been VERY cold outside when I go to run which tends to tighten up my muscles and joints, making it very difficult to run. So I have been considering joining a gym that is very close to my house in order to run on a treadmill when it is too cold to run outside.

This weekend I got a trial pass for the gym to see if I would like it. Yesterday I tried it out.

Normally I run in the morning throughout my neighborhood. I wake up, get out of bed, put on my running clothes and go. The whole routine only takes about 30 minutes. The gym, I learned, takes a lot more work; and a whole lot more time.

I had to get up and get dressed. I had to drive to the gym (because it was very cold and I didn’t have a lot of time to walk there). I had to check in with my pass at the front desk. I had to go into the locker room and put my stuff in a locker. I had to find a vacant place to stretch out. I had to find a machine that worked. I had to set up the machine. I used the machine. Then when done with exercising I had to go back to the locker room to get my stuff, then go out to my car to go home. This routine took forever compared to the normal one.

Not only did going to the gym take a lot more work and a lot more time; there was also a ton of distraction for my ADD (not diagnosed) mind to handle:

One of the first things I noticed as I walked in were lots of guys strutting around like roosters trying to impress each other and the hens around them by the way they carried themselves, the clothes they wore, and how they looked at others- especially the belittling looks they gave to the other men. One guy even laughed at me for some reason while I was lifting weights??

Another thing that was distracting were the old guys walking around naked in the locker room- it’s been a while since being around naked guys (HS PE) and I’d like to keep it that way.

Once I finally got to the treadmills I as going to work on, I stepped on one to begin running only to find out that I could not get it to work. I had to go to another and attempt to figure out how to program it for the run I wanted to do. I began to run at a high pace to reach a goal of three miles when all of the sudden, about 1.75 miles into the run, the treadmill halted to a dead stop- almost throwing me off. I hadn’t pressed any buttons, it just quit working and I could not get it to start up again.

So with my heart rate soaring I stepped to the treadmill next to me in order to continue my run, only to learn that it would not turn on either. I tried another and got to running again but the speed kept lowering to a level I did not want it to be at without me adjusting it.

What a waste of time; I can’t spend the majority of my valuable workout time simply trying to get a machine to work.

I didn’t really like the treadmill either. There was no sense of going anywhere or accomplishing anything like there is outside. I got very bored.

The hand rails on each side of me on the treadmill were also very constricting. I felt like I was running inside of a box, unable to move my arms freely.

In front of me were 6 TVs playing various different shows. My ADD and OCD mind felt like I had to watch and know what was going on one each show. My eyes tried to scan the closed captioning to read what my ears could not hear all while trying to listen to a podcast. Many of the shows had sexual undertones and attractive women in the leading roles which did not help my mind stay focused on honoring God with my body while I worked out.

Then to top it all off; there were fit, young, attractive women in tights and tight fitting sport’s tops everywhere! How can I give the treadmill all that I have when a spandex enveloped perfectly shaped female butt bounces up and down in front of me the whole time?! I’m a man for Pete’s sake. This gym thing is tough!

So after over an hour of frustration and distractions I determined that the gym was not for me and for now I will stick to a shorter more focused and effective workout- even if it is 15 degrees outside.

What if Starbuck’s Marketed Like The Church?

Anthony — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 20:06:14 +0000

I found this on the Neue site the other day. It’s brilliant, hillarious, and convicting!

Emo Party?!

Anthony — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 21:54:19 +0000

This is for real! It’s the ultimate oxymoron: an EMO- PARTY. Ha! This sign was at the Salem Public Library. I had heard of it a month or so earlier, but I couldn’t resist taking a picture of the actual sign when I saw it. Look closely at the weird activities: Poetry Slam, Emo Sock Puppets,Chocolate Personality Tests, and Chocolate Taste-Testing?????!!!!! I’m sure that was one crazy party! I hope they hid any and all knives or razor blades.

The Public Restroom Experience

Anthony — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 19:48:59 +0000

You can’t really control when it happens. When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go. Public place or not. Nature calls. You have to go to the bathroom. It seems like it always happens when you go into a public place. Grocery stores, discount stores, clothing stores, book stores, etc…: potty has no preference. Although sometimes it seems to prefer Borders, Target, and Walmart. So, you have to answer it’s nagging call.

There you are; walking down that mysterious hallway with the employee of the month pictures, “I lost 40 pounds in one week” flyers, and multi-level marketing advertisements all around you. Once you reach the end of the hallway you have one last chance to back out of the journey you are about to embark on.The old and rusty monolith of a door now towers in front of you in all of it’s glory. You take the rusty old handle into your sweaty hands and realize that it’s trying to take you with it’s own. After pushing the skanky-old door open and freeing your hand from it’s handle’s greasy grip, you enter the place in which you will leave part of yourself.

Upon entering; a cloud of poisonous gas coming from the moaning homeless man in the handicapped stall overcomes you . In desperation you take one last deep breath as not to take in too much of the Taco Bell bi-product now circulating through the air.

You decide to take your first small step to get to the empty stall about six feet away from you. As you do so, you nearly fall on the cracked-tile floor beneath you because you’ve slipped in the large puddle of misplaced urine in the middle of the room. Regaining your balance, you proceed.

After hopping over several toilet paper and paper-towel land mines you make it to the stall. About this time you remember that you’ve been holding your breathe for quite a while and that you cannot hold it any longer. Just as you take a gasp of air your stall neighbor moans “oh yes” and loudly splashes his kids into the pool. The gas spewing from this catastrophe rushes into your inhaling lungs. Your eyes instantly begin to water and your nose hairs singe.

The urge to use the restroom becomes overwhelming. You decide to breathe normally despite the dangerous conditions. After all, there’s no evidence that hepatitis can spread through the air( is there? ). So, you reach for the hole in the door that used to be a lock to pull it open, but when your fingers enter this hole they stick to the moist gum recently put there. You free yourself and pull the door open by grabbing it’s top.

Once the door opens you notice that hieroglyphs of nudity, difficult sexual positions, and curse words adorn the walls. This disgusts you. Your eyes are then drawn to the clogged toilet and its repulsive contents. Wet toilet paper is wrapped around the toilet as if it was a birthday party streamer. A moan from next door makes you turn your head and notice that there is no toilet paper to wipe yourself. Everything is going wrong! Looking down and contemplating if you should stick around and wait for your pal “Mona” next door to finish; you notice one of the grossest things on this planet: a mustache ring of hair around the toilets rim. You decide to wait for the handicapped stall.

All of the sudden you hear one of the most lovely sounds you’ve heard in a long time. It’s the flush from next door. You patiently wait for “Mona” to exit his stall. The door opens and you make a mad dash for the premises. Unfortunately you and “Mona” must now cross paths. His hair is so soaked with sweat that it looks like he just got out of the shower. You try to avoid eye contact with your new roommate, but it’s inevitable. Just when you thought you were done with “Mona”, he turns and says “enjoy”. You try not to think about what he means by this and make your way towards the handicapped stall.

“Mona” has left the stall door open, so you make your way into the gas chamber. The odor is intoxicating. Every part of your body, mind, and spirit tells you to leave, but you’ve come too far to simply give up. After all, if you did leave you would surely soil yourself. You use your foot to pull the door closed and use your shirt tail like a glove to lock the door. The coast looks clear, so far.

Now that the door is closed and locked you take it all in. The handicapped stall is bigger than a New York City studio apartment. It lacks the disturbing hieroglyphs of it’s neighboring stall. This comforts you. The handicap handles lining the walls of the stall could be used for an Olympic gymnastics competition. You look down to the end of the stall and start your inspection of the toilet. From your vantage point it looks somewhat clean. There are no toilet paper streamers wrapped around it. From where you stand it doesn’t look clogged. You decide to move closer.

It was too good to be true. As you move closer you discover that “Mona” dropped one last kid off at the pool after flushing. His snake-like feces is curled up in the toilet as though it’s awaiting its charmer to play some strange Middle-Eastern flute and make it rise from its motionless state. You stand back and kick the flusher to rid your seat of its unwanted visitor. The power of the flush is so great that it splashes water and other unknown contents all over you. Your hands and face are spared, so you continue on your quest.

You reach for the toilet paper to wipe off the wet seat. As you start to pull it off the roller it begins to tear. These cheap stores always use single-ply toilet paper! This will be a huge problem when it’s time to do your business. So, there you are pulling out the toilet paper single-ply square by single-ply square. Once you have collected enough squares to safely wipe down the toilet seat, you notice your old friend from the previous stall: the mustache ring of hair.

What causes this?! Do people decide to give them selves a haircut while using a public restroom? Do they decide to shave their backs there? Is this some sort of perverted Chia Pet or can the toilet actually grow a mustache? Either way; it’s a mystery and it’s disgusting!

Once everything has been cleaned up you take a seat only to realize that the toilet must have some kind of cooling unit similar to the stone they use at that ice cream place to mix several ice creams together. You’ve come this far: you can handle it.

After a short time passes and you have already read every word off of the toilet paper roller like a book; you decide that you’re done. You start the process of pulling toilet paper squares off one at a time like you are playing “she loves me, she loves me not” with a daisy and then reach down to wipe and you suddenly realize that the water line of the toilet is only about one inch below the rim and you completely submerge your hand! You must now use the small pieces of toilet paper to dry your tainted hand and then use your bad hand to do the rest of the wiping all while being sure not to touch yourself with the now contaminated hand.

You then must hurry and finish so you can thoroughly decontaminate your hand in the sink. So you quickly pull up your pants only to realize that they are wet from the urine soaked floor! Great! So you pull back down your pants and put a few toilet paper squares between your bare (and cold) butt and your clothing as to not get too wet.

After flushing the toilet with your foot, you start to realize that the toilet is quickly clogging and what you have just done will soon be floating out the door and towards the store’s concession stand. So you button your pants and run to the sink while the toilet slowly begins to overflow.

Crap! There’s no handle on the hot water part of the facet so you reach and turn on the cold water and it comes out only a few drips at a time…NO! You push the soap dispenser only to here it make a fart-like noise and nothing comes out. With a few sweeps of your hand under the dripping cold water you realize that the toilets contents are getting closer and closer and for some reason the toilet that you just used won’t stop flushing!

You think to yourself,” Few, only one more thing to do: dry my hands!” But you notice that this facility chooses not to honor their customers with paper towels and only has one of those things that you can pull down a piece of towel-like fabric from and the dirty part that you just used goes back up into the unit only to be used again! Sick!

What now? You notice they have a hand drier and you know that hand driers never work unless you are willing to keep your hands vigorously rubbing together underneath them for 25 minutes. You know that you don’t have that kind of time now because of the toilets contents slowly making their way towards you. Hand drying is skipped altogether and you run out of the bathroom just as the flash flood makes it’s way out the bathroom door.You now have post traumatic stress disorder and are unable to shop at the store and purchase the toilet paper that you came here to get in the first place! As you walk out of the store an elderly “security guard” in a wheelchair shouts,” thanks for shopping at insert store name here. At the sound of his voice you begin to weep because of the trauma that you had just gone through and you swear to yourself that you will never use their bathrooms again……..but……you know you will.