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Thursday, December 30, 2010

Demitri Martin

Demitri Martin

The last two days, I covered dry humor on television and also in film.  Today, I salute one of my favorite stand-up comedians of dry humor: Demitri Martin.

Demitri delivers almost his entire routines without laughing, while the audience is rolling over so.  (Of course, they're probably a little drunk, too.  More things are funny when you're drunk.)  He tells stories, plays instruments, sings songs, and even draws posters.  Here are a couple of examples to get you by until you can look him up on youtube for yourself.  Enjoy!

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Stranger Than Fiction

Stranger Than Fiction

I decided to cap the year with some of my favorite examples of dry humor.  So to continue from yesterday, I'd like to present the film: Stranger Than Fiction:

You might be thinking, "Will Farrell?  Really? Are you kidding?"  Don't worry.  This is, without a doubt, my favorite role he has ever acted.  When you take a comedian and put him/her in a serious role, it is almost guaranteed to be dry humor.  (I don't have a good explanation as to why, it just happens.)  Well, Will Farrell is great as Harold Crick in Stranger Than Fiction.  He is the painfully inept soul of an IRS auditor.  It is masterfully dry humor.  I highly recommend this film.

The following is an expert from a dialogue between Will Farrell (the IRS auditor) and Maggie Gyllenhaal (the small business owner).  It still makes me laugh:

Harold Crick:   It says, in the file, that you only paid for part of your taxes for last year.
Ana Pascal:      That’s right.
Harold Crick:   Looks like only 78 percent.
Ana Pascal:      Yep.
Harold Crick:   So you did it on purpose?
Ana Pascal:      Yep.
Harold Crick:   So you must’ve been expecting an audit.
Ana Pascal:      Um, I was expecting a fine, or a sharp reprimand.
Harold Crick:   A reprimand?  This isn’t boarding school, Miss Pascal.  You stole from the government.
(Harold pesters Ana more here, but I’m trying to keep the post within reasonable length.)
Ana Pascal:      Listen, I'm a big supporter of fixing potholes and erecting swing sets and building shelters. I am *more* than happy to pay those taxes. I'm just not such a big fan of the percentage that the government uses for national defense, corporate bailouts, and campaign discretionary funds. So, I didn't pay those taxes. I think I sent a letter to that effect with my return. 
Harold Crick:   Would it be the letter that beings "Dear Imperialist Swine"? 

                        If this isn't funny just from reading it, then you might try watching the movie (after all, if you recall from yesterday, dry humor is all in the delivery).  

                        There is another scene (which I do not have the dialogue for) in which Emma Thompson asks a nurse at the hospital where all of the dead people who won't get better are located.  It is also very funny in context.  

                        Again, I highly recommend the movie Stranger Than Fiction for a good dose of dry humor.  (I think I'm going to watch my DVD right now, as a matter of fact.)  :-)

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Pushing Daisies

Pushing Daisies

On more than one occasion, I've been asked why my site is called Dry Humor Daily.  My consistent answer is that lots of people have told me over the years that I have a dry sense of humor.  For the longest time, I never really understood what that meant, but I took it as a compliment and just kept being myself.  Well, over time, I've come to a fuller understanding of dry humor (or deadpan humor, as some might say) and I'd like to present some of my favorite examples of it over the next couple of days.

First thing's first.  Pushing Daisies.

The show was fantastic.  It was kind of a mix between a fairy tale and a crime-solving show.  It only aired for two seasons (2007 and 2008) before it got cut, but they were two very entertaining seasons.  So why the pink slip?  Pushing Daisies was unfortunately too quick-witted for the average American.  The dialogue is fast-paced and clever.  To top it off, the characters have strong vocabularies.

What does this have to do with dry humor?  It's all in the delivery.  (That's basically what sets dry humor apart from all the others.)  There's not really a punchline.  Dry humor comes from the context of a situation and relies on things like straight-faced puns.  The detective in Pushing Daisies is very good at this.  You will find yourself laughing at him, even though he isn't saying anything directly funny.  If you have a chance, watch an episode or two.  I think you'll like it.

Monday, December 27, 2010



The word "rural" should be removed from the dictionary.

Why should it be?  Just say it out loud a few times.  I'll wait . . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

Any objections?

Friday, December 24, 2010

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas!

That's right.  I said it.  :-)

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Horse Power

Horse Power

How many horse power do you think that thing gets?

...or should I say, cow power?

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Alcoholic Whipped Cream

Alcoholic Whipped Cream

The other day, I was at my parents eating their superfluous supply of Christmas cookies and my brother came home very excited about something.  It went a little like this:

"Hold your hand out," he said.


"Just do it."

"Um...Okay."  So I did.  He swung an arm out from behind his back, upended a can, and sprayed a white foam in my hand.  "What is it?"

"Shaving cream."


"Just kidding," he said.  "Eat it."

After passing a few skeptic glances around the room, I did.  "Hmm.  It tastes like..."

"It's alcohol infused whipped cream.  Vanilla."

"Oh.  I was going to say shaving cream."

That's right.  Some genius out there finally did it: commercialized alcoholic whipped cream:

Need some more booze between your dinner cabernet and your post-feast bourbon?  Try Cream, an alcohol infused whipped cream.  It comes in many flavors and can be used to booze up many different desserts.  As long as you're old enough, I say you should definitely give it a whirl.  Whip it!  Whip it good!

Tuesday, December 21, 2010



Why didn't I post yesterday?  It's because I was busy unlocking my iPhone.  Yes!!!

I used to have AT&T and an iPhone that someone gave to me.  I eventually dropped my AT&T service, but continued to use the phone as a glorified iPod.  It has been working great for a long time.  I have T-Mobile, now, which the iPhone can be unlocked for, but I never tried to unlock my iPhone because I didn't want to jack it up.  (After all, it was making perfectly good music while I wrote Dry Humor Daily.  Why would I want to?)  

Anyway, I was updating the firmware on the iPhone in order to use some wireless headphones I purchased.  Bad move!  iTunes forgot to mention that when you restore your iPhone in order to update the firmware, you have to reactivate it with AT&T!  (In other words, I couldn't even use it to play music any more...)  My reaction was something like this:


"Son of a . . . . ."


*Long sigh*

Then it occurred to me that I officially had nothing to lose by risking jailbreaking my device.  So I did some extensive reading and decided on a method on how to do it and got to work.  And voila!  Music and the ability to text like white lightning!  I'm in a happy place, now.  :)

Friday, December 17, 2010

Word Verification #17

Word Verification #17

Happy Wright Brothers Day!  Have you ever flown on a heavier-than-air-craft?  Thanks to the Wright brothers, your flight was made possible!  J  Now go bake a cake or something.

Here’s a Captcha that I’m sure we’ve all done at least once in our lives:


1. An untruthful or deceitful text message
Ex: To cover the truth about where my friends and I were really going, I sent a litext to my girlfriend that we went bowling.

2. The act of sending untruthful or deceitful text messages 

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Hot Playground

Hot Playground

Awesome comment-leaver Sarah brought something to my attention yesterday that usually would never cross my mind: how hot it is in December. . . in Texas.  Our high temperature yesterday was 79 degrees, just a week shy of the first day of winter.  But I might not have noticed because 79 is a cool breeze compared to the 107 we hit over the summer this year.  Blah!!!  (Thanks for the cruel reminder of how season-less Texas can be...)

Oddly enough, earlier this year, we had over a foot of snow!  (Back in January, in case you're wondering.)  It was, without a doubt, the most snow I have ever seen in Texas.  In remembrance, here is a photo of the 6 foot snowman we made... It was as tall as me!!!

And this is a picture of a typical Texas playground, covered in snow:


Wednesday, December 15, 2010

High Priority

High Priority

News flash!  Celebrities sell!  (Quite a revelation for the day, huh?)  And sometimes, the terrible celebrity news stories beat out real, very relevant news.  It makes me laugh and metaphorically cry in the same sitting.

One of my favorite news sources is, not because of it's articulate quality, but because I find the best examples of what I'm talking about.  (Actually, I hate reading the articles on because it's a maze to find them.  You click on the pretty headliner picture and you get taken to Marie Claire's dating advice, or worse . . . bing!)  To illustrate the lop-sided msn-scale-of-importance, I captured this screen shot yesterday:

First of all, political kids are no more news-worthy than my kids or your kids.  Second, who cares?  Sadly enough, people click on this article, read this article, tell their friends about this article, and read the subsequently-linked wonder wall about this article, and completely miss the one about the cure for HIV.  (Claimed, but not yet proven, that is.)  

I take a very neutral stance about finding a cure for HIV and AIDS, but I do think even the slightest hint of a cure is more worth reading than another review of Chelsea Clinton's wedding.  I appreciate news stations and sites that report on important topics, not Lindsey Lohan's rehab.  Maybe I'm just a little old school.  Please, MSN, if I'm going to be forced through your site on a daily basis in some way or another, at least give me an article worth my time.  (Seriously, please.)

Tuesday, December 14, 2010



Are you crazy about onions?  Are you an onion enthusiast?  Do you vedge on Vidalias, live for leeks, or yearn for yellow onions?  Well . . . do ya?!

Whether you wish for Walla Wallas or surrender to sweet onions, guess what. . . you don't have "oniomania."

(What?!?!?!?!  I don't?)


(but . . .)


Every once in a while, a word comes along in the English language that should mean one thing, but instead means something completely different.  This is one that is most certainly worth pointing out.  Any wild guesses as to what you "suffer" from if you have oniomania?  As much as I want to tell you that it is an unhealty obsession with a bulbous vegetable, oniomania is actually the excessive desire to shop.

So why do we say "shopaholic" instead of "oniomaniac?"  It's easier to remember, of course.  And I agree.  But if practically no one uses a word for what it really is, why don't they just change it to what it should be?

Know of any other pointless or obscure words?  Please share!  :)

Monday, December 13, 2010

No Way!

No Way!

A Vietnamese restaurant recently opened up across the street from me.  They mainly serve "Pho" noodle dishes.  The atmosphere is par and the food is decent.  (But then again, it's difficult to screw up Pho.)  What's the point of bringing this up?  Well, the food isn't the funny part.  The name of the establishment is.  Here's a picture of it:

Yep, Pho King Way.  This is something we joked about many times as kids, but never thought it would ever come to fruition.  (I still chuckle sometimes when I drive by.)  Why would I laugh?  Either you already know, or you're about to find out.  It's all in the proper pronunciation.

Pho, even though it looks like it should be pronounced like "foe," is actually pronounced like the "fu" in "fudge."  Now, string together the whole name quickly.  "Pho King Way."  Get it?  I know it's childish, but what can I say?  It was a childhood joke.  Hee hee!

I hope everyone had a good weekend.  It was all too short for me!

Friday, December 10, 2010

The Big 200!

The Big 200!

Today marks the 200th post on Dry Humor Daily!  I am absolutely ecstatic to have actual readers whom I've never met in my life who genuinely read and comment.  Thank you to ALL of you.  You keep me encouraged and continuing to write.  So what's on the docket, today?  I thought we could take a brief walk down memory lane, then reflect on one of my favorite posts: Wasps

Memory lane isn't even a year yet, but for anyone who hasn't been around since the beginning, this is the best only screen shot I could find of what DHD used to look like:
This was one of the default blogger templates I used from when I first started.  Isn't it cute?  (It was one of the few that didn't look so feminine ...)  I eventually changed this to the blue version of the same pattern, then to a modern-looking black and green something-or-other, then a messy desk, and finally the better-looking messy desk you see now (with the Christmas theme added by yours truly!).  

On to one of my favorite posts.  Enjoy!  And when you're finished, feel free to check out the very first post ever, (if you're into that sort of thing.)


Do you have a favorite word? You should, if for no other reason than to have an answer the next time someone asks you. Maybe you like scientific words that no one else knows. Maybe you like words that sound funny. Maybe, in severe irony, you like the word hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia (look it up). Or maybe you could care less about words all together. Well my favorite word is wasps.

Try it. Say “wasps.” The “s” followed by “p” followed again by “s” comes out of your mouth like you’re trying to get someone’s attention. Wasps. I suppose it works with any word ending with an “s,” consonant, and another “s.” Okay, now try these out loud. Lists. Cists. Mists. Wisps. Costs. Masts. Casts. Fasts. Feasts. Crisps. Wrists. Asps. Clasps. Heists (Is your tongue getting tired yet? Are you spitting everywhere?). The one that takes the cake, however, is lisps.

Forgive my speech impediment insensitivity here. Lisps, as is, sounds just like the rest of them. “S,” consonant, “s.” Here’s the kicker, though: say it with a lisp (without laughing and spitting). (My advice: never ask someone with a lisp to say it.) It would go something like this. Lithpth. Isn’t it a little ironic that the word which describes a condition when it’s difficult for someone to say the letter “s” has an “s” in the word? Not to mention, two if it’s plural!

Now try the words from before, this time with a lisp. Lithth. Mithth. Withpth. Cothth. Mathth. Cathth. Fathth. Feathth. Crithpth. Writhth. Athpth. Clathpth. Heithth. In this light, there’s a new cake-taker: Cists, which would sound more like thithth. Can anyone even manage that one? If you can, save yourself the embarrassment and don’t show all your friends.

I still have a soft spot for wasps, though. It seems to linger on your tongue a little longer than the other examples. The humor in its pronunciation (that is, if you’re amused by it like me) is completely contradictory to the menacing image of the insect itself. Also, it requires the lips to move in many different directions all within the same word.

Pick a word and arm yourself with the knowledge surrounding it. Roam confidently with your vocabulary prowess! If you ever enter into a word-war with someone, be prepared to throw down the heavy, hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobic hammer on them!

Originally posted: 3/15/10

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Cell Me

Cell Me

This time of year, I go to the mall more often than I normally would in other months.  It just so happens that this time of year is the time when all of the extra kiosks open up in the middle of all of the walking areas.  What does that mean for my shopping experience?  It means it's extra annoying.

I hate it when the kiosk vultures try to get my attention.  I know you can't tell much by my profile picture, but do I look like the kind of person who wants to buy some honey-flax-seed-olive-oil-butter-cream-lotion-made-with-Caspian-Sea-water?  (Also, if you can't tell, the answer is no.)  Anyway, that's beside the point.  Just about the only thing worse than being flagged down for a feminine hygiene product pitch is the cell phone booth.

The T-Mobile booth or Verizon booth, whatever it may be, is always stocked with the worst of the worst.  If you make it on to one of their radars, they ask you about your cell service as you approach the kiosk, as you walk by it, and as you're walking off, as well.  (Even if you never acknowledge them once.)  And somehow, they remember you.  You see, in almost every mall I've ever been to, you have to pass by everything twice.  (Once to go where you need to go and again to make your way back to your car.)  So when you're making your return pass by the booth, they hassle you again and give you the eye as if the seventh time of asking you is the magic one.

It's not. . . . and it never is.  So freaking stop it already!

Do you have any mall kiosks in particular that annoy you the most?  Please share!  :)

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Musical Liberty

Musical Liberty

Here at Dry Humor Daily, I like Christmas music.  I really do.  I prefer the older songs, but some of the new ones aren't so bad.  (You definitely have to skip over whatever came out in the 90s, though, hands down.)  Want to know what I don't like?  I don't like despise commercials which rewrite the lyrics to Christmas songs with words about crowded malls, nasty fruit cake, and unwelcome in-laws.  I wish I could explain it, but it simply annoys me to no end.  (Even writing about this makes me shake my head in disappointment at our creatively lacking advertising industry.)

Companies have been altering Christmas songs for years, but Garmin's versions a few holidays ago really tipped the scales.  Now, any company can pitch Garmin's success as reason enough to make their own cheesy version of the campaign.  Here's an example of one:

I have a question.  Does anyone know the actual words to Carol of the Bells?  (Better yet, I wonder how many people even know the name.)  Everyone I know just says the "merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas.  Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas" part when it comes on.  (Oh, who am I kidding, that's just about all I can remember from year to year, too...)

Bottom line: companies should have their commercial privileges unceremoniously stripped once they head down this path.  Changing the words of Christmas songs is lame.  (Even if they are funny the first time around.)  End of story.

On a lighter note, thanks to all of you loyal readers and comment-leavers!  I appreciate your time and interest more than you know.  Just thought I would randomly mention that.  :)

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Ode to The Pillow

Ode to The Pillow

Oh, the comforting softness of the perfect pillow!

Few things on this Earth compare to the tranquil embrace of a bed pillow.  Its gentle cushion eases restless and wandering minds.  It selflessly bears the weight of burdened thoughts.  The pillow is both an open forum and a safeguard of deep secrets.  Even the sweetest of dreams rest in the very same place.  

Reality, however, cannot be forgotten even upon these cozy sanctuaries.  Dark nightmares are never further than a minute brain function away.  They lurk dreadfully and immeasurably close to one’s most comforting memories.  The catalyst for that synapse . . . ?

. . .

. . . . . . Fear.

The cure?  An easy mind.

The irony?  It is a luxury buried in a pillow.  A perfect pillow.  A treasure as rare as true love, the perfect pillow not only aids in rest or sleep, but in restful, life-altering sleep.  Find yours.  Conquer your dreams.

Monday, December 6, 2010



Have you ever sent an email and promised an attachment, but forget to actually attach something?  (You're not alone.)  Then, you have to post-proclaim your brain lapse by writing a follow-up email, usually containing a "duh" or an "oops."  Sounds intelligent, doesn't it?

If this sounds like you, I have a solution:  Gmail.  (I promise Dry Humor Daily is not a google spokesperson.  They just keep coming up with good stuff!)  Here's a message you might get from gmail if you forget your attachment:

I remember thinking, as a matter of fact, I did mean to attach something.  Thanks, gmail!  (I might have actually said it out loud to myself.)  Anyway, pretty cool, huh?  From now on, I don't have to be that person: the notorious attachment-forgetter.  

What will they come up with next?  (Hopefully, teleportation or light sabers, you know, something cool like that!)

Friday, December 3, 2010

Word Verification #16

Word Verification #16

Happy Friday!  I know I'm glad!  Here's this week's Captcha.


1. A high, steep rock face reserved strictly for the gathering of males.

Ex: Few women have ventured to a mencliff and returned to tell the testosterone tale.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Gas Power

Gas Power

Did you know some farmers power their farms with gas?  I know, duh, right?  Well, somehow we got on this subject yesterday at work.  Believe it or not, I'm not talking about the kind of gas you use for your stove.  I'm talking about another type:

I'm talking about the crap produced by these guys: cows.  Yep.  Some farming establishments have developed a process of filling pits full of manure and capturing the methane rising from it and converting it into usable gas which powers their operation.  No bull.

Think we should all be driving fewer SUVs?  Think again.  The beef industry (more importantly, the belching and flatulent byproducts of it) accounts for multiple times the atmospheric destruction than all of the vehicles on the planet combined.  Now that stinks!  The truth is: more farmers should be doing this.  Maybe Dry Humor Daily can power its site this way, too.  (On second thought, never mind that.)

So what do you do with this information?  Call your senator, of course!  And demand methane-powered farming!  

On a cleaner, fresher-smelling note, Dry Humor Daily just had its 10,000 page view.  Yay!

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Why Not?

Why Not?

I don't get it:

Where is this that you're not allowed to stab back hoes with shovels?

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