Fun Facts: Collector's Edition

I am simultaneously leasing my soul to the Devil, the Man, and The Cleveland Indians.  In return, the Devil washes my car on Sundays, the Man gives me baking tips, and The Cleveland Indians taught me how to love.

After a team of psychiatrists spent countless hours debating whether I was insane or a maniac, I was finally deemed an “insana-ma-maniac” and was given a small plaque covered trophy to this effect.  That trophy is currently on display in the International Museum of Bad Psychiatry.

A similar debate over whether I was crazy with a “c” or krazy with a “k” led to a small civil war in Nigeria and three weddings.  Two of the couples are still together, and the other “just needs a little time to work things out.”  The civil war, however, has been a humanitarian disaster of unimaginable horror.

Once, while facing a difficult matter of conscience, an angel appeared on my right shoulder, and a devil appeared on my left.  I then screamed frantically while trying to get those little bastards off of me.  They finally vanished, and to be honest, I kind of miss them.  If you’ve seen them, tell them that I decided to go with the blue one.  They’ll know what that means.

I mark my territory by placing small orange cones in strategic locations.  Unfortunately, I am color blind to orange, so I immediately forget where my territory is.  I am also afraid of cone-shaped objects.  I’m kind of looking into a new marking system.

I organized the world’s first all-snowman firefighting squad.  Tragically, all three hundred of the squad were killed fighting their first fire, leaving behind a mound of badly charred carrot noses.  Investigators of the tragedy claim that the coals used for the snowman’s eyes may have only worsened the blaze.

After the snowman incident, I opened a restaurant.  My specialty was badly charred carrot soup.  My restaurant was very successful until it burned to the ground.

I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s.  I hear voices, but I can’t remember what they say.

I spent years learning how to play the triangle, until one day, someone bent my triangle into the shape of a square.  I couldn’t play it anymore.  It may have sounded the same, but there were too many sides for me to decide which one to hit.  I was ok with three, but four was just getting out of hand.  

I also spent many years training with masters of the mystical arts.  I became so adept at manipulating the space-time continuum that I had total control over the sands of time.  I could not, however, get the sands of time out of my hair, even after several showers.

Frustrated with the sand stuck in my hair, I invented the Shampoo of Eternity.  The directions for the Shampoo of Eternity are as follows:  Wash.  Rinse.  Repeat until the end of time.  

I’m going to invent the Conditioner of Infinity, just as soon as I get done washing my hair and decide what infinity should smell like.

I founded The Foundation to Found Smaller Foundations.  Currently, The Foundation to Found Smaller Foundations has founded forty smaller foundations, which in turn have founded a grand total of three hundred and eighty seven foundations.  Then I found that hat that I lost, and formally disbanded the Foundation to Find That Hat That I Lost.

I once met a penguin who had no legs.  It was a little sad.  Fortunately, this particular penguin also had the ability to fly, so everything was pretty much cool.

One of the most horrifying things that I have ever seen was my friend being mauled by a toddler.  Most people could defend themselves from a small child, but my friend happened to be a gingerbread man.  It was a pretty vicious attack, there was frosting and crumbs everywhere.  I managed to scare off the kid by firing a pistol into the air.  After reconstructive bakery on his knees, my friend recovered, but he was never really same.  He couldn’t walk without the aid of a candy cane, and refused to go back to the playground.  So I ate him.

I got plastic surgery to make myself look exactly like my plastic surgeon.  Things got really confusing when he held up a mirror to show me how I looked, but only because I held up a second mirror at the exact same time as him.  Or did I?

I have a restraining order against Santa Claus.  Apparently, anytime someone leaves milk and cookies lying around that fat bastard thinks that he is entitled to them.  It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if my house weren’t constructed of cookies, with a little milk pond in the backyard.  All it took was a few nibbles on a load bearing wall, and just like that, I was living on the streets, begging Girl Scouts for construction materials.

I made a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure flipbook.  It’s a little stressful, because you have to make decisions really really fast.  It also helps to be an ambidextrous speed reader.  The first person who read it was both, and ended up in the hospital for blood loss from paper cuts and multiple stress induced heart attacks.  He is out now, but still has really bad arthritis.

I used to run a puppet show teaching kids about the dangers of drug use.  It was one of those deals where you crouch behind a little stage and they can only see the sock puppet that you’re operating with your hand.  Well one day, this fly started buzzing around my ear and around the stage.  I could tell it was distracting the kids.  So I used my puppet hand to try to smash the fly, and in the process repeatedly bashed the head of Senor Snortsalot into the stage.  One of the kids thought the puppet was having an epileptic seizure and dialed 911 on their cell phone.  The police came, and found a baggie of heroin inside one of my puppet heads.  That was my last puppet show, but I managed to beat the rap.  Senor Snortsalot, however, is currently serving time in a maximum security prison for resisting arrest, assault with a deadly weapon, and wire fraud.

I have a morbid fear of old people.  It all goes back to the time I was cutting up a steak for my great grandmother, and out of nowhere, she started biting me.  I had to have her dentures surgically removed from my left foot by a podiatrist who specialized in dentistry.  Turns out she had rabies.  I should have known, from all the foam around her mouth, but I figured she just had some left over on her face from shaving.

The first vehicle that I owned was an air conditioned hot air balloon.  It never got off the ground, and after about three minutes inside it I would be sweating like a pig.  After a while I got sick of never going anywhere, so I put some wheels on it and got some horses to pull me around.  That worked ok, but the balloon acted as a parachute and really slowed me down a lot.  And it was still hot as hell in that thing.

I was going to write a book about futility, but what’s the point?

I once tried to mug a mountain.  The mountain wouldn’t give me it’s wallet, so I decided it needed a little more persuading and I punched it a couple of times.  That did the trick.  I was rewarded with a lot of snow, or, as the search party who found me called it, an avalanche.

My campsite was discovered by bears.  They were going to claim my campsite for Spain, but luckily for me I had already signed a treaty with Portugal.  We decided to trade.  They left behind some beaver pelts and a strange device they called a growl-a-tron.  I gave them some exotic silks, spices, and a map of Yellowstone.

I took all the water out of my swimming pool and filled it with yarn.  The cats don’t mind being thrown in there now.

It also makes using the diving board a lot more interesting.  Somehow, every time I do a cannonball, I emerge from the pool wearing a sweater and some argyle socks.  The sweater usually doesn’t fit though.  And who wears argyle?

I have a real doorbell.  I’m not talking about one of those wimpy buttons that you push and it plays some fruity chimes.  I mean it’s a real bell, three hundred pounds of solid polished brass that you have to hit with a mallet forged of the finest Bethlehem steel.  And I’m not coming to the door unless you give that thing a damn good whack.  Don’t even think about knocking with your fist, because the door itself is wired with five thousand volts of how-do-you-do.  The pizza guy tried that, and now he can’t go to the bathroom without a seeing eye dog.  

I took a number, and put it where no one will ever find it.  So the next time you try to count to 45,658, you’re going to have a little bit of trouble.

When I was little, I always felt sorry for the number on the bottom of a fraction, especially when it was much smaller than the number on top.  How is 3 supposed to hold up 157 all by itself?  Math class became very emotionally stressful for me.  I would hide all the calculators, and shorten all the rulers by one inch.

I got my fingerprints surgically replaced with new ones.  Unfortunately, the donor was only born with nine fingers, so when I commit a crime I have to hold my right pinky up so it doesn’t touch anything.  It doesn’t look very cool, and whenever I point a gun at someone they just giggle uncontrollably.