Category: humor

Choose Your Religion

~ Clarissa ~ 10 Comments

I consulted this great chart I found at Hattie’s web, and it suggested to me that I should be a Jehova’s witness:

All I know about Jehova’s Witnesses is that they distribute little books with creepy-looking kids, so that did not attract me. I decided to pretend that I was indifferent to bacon and the chart told me I should be a Muslim. Of course, I could give up hummus, too, and become a Jew, but life without both bacon and hummus looks bleak. So Islam it is for me.

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.

Have you considered him who calls the judgment a lie?
That is the one who treats the orphan with harshness,
And does not urge (others) to feed the poor.
So woe to the praying ones,
Who are unmindful of their prayers,
Who do (good) to be seen,
And withhold the necessaries of life.

Can anybody disagree with these beautiful words?

Riddle

~ Clarissa ~ 5 Comments

I shared this story with a colleague at lunch today and decided that it would make a great riddle.

When I first moved to Canada from Ukraine, one of the things that shocked me the most was something that I saw happening at a bus stop. When I saw it for the first time, I thought that maybe I was misunderstanding something. But then I kept observing the same scene at every bus stop I passed.

“Wow, these Canadians truly are different,” I decided after the fifth bus stop in a row had presented the same strange scene to me.

Question: what was it that I kept seeing at bus stops and that seemed so incredible to me after living my entire life in Ukraine?

P.S. Russian speakers, shush! I know it’s easy for you to guess but I’m trying to mystify non-Russian speakers here.

>A Story About Hair

~ Clarissa ~ 13 Comments

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Now that everybody has met my new haircut, I will regale you with yet another story about hair. When my sister was 19, she met a thirty-one-year-old guy. Let’s call him Carlos. My sister had been living with me since she was sixteen, so I understandably felt responsible for her.
One day she went on a date with Carlos. A short time into the date, she called me on the phone. She was crying so hard that she could hardly speak. 
“Carlos is soooooo mean,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe he did this to me.”
When I heard that, I imagined every single horrible thing that a 31-year-old man can do to a 19-year-old girl. My heart plopped into my stomach and my hands started shaking. I tried to control my terror, however, in order to avoid traumatizing the child even further.
“What. . . did. . . he. . . do. . . to. . . you?” I managed to squeeze out of myself.
“It’s horrible!” she wailed. “I don’t even want to say!”
I saw images of hospitals, police stations and myself assaulting Carlos with a chainsaw flash before my eyes.
“He went to a salon and got this horrible haircut,” my sister continued.
“And??” I asked, shaking in terror.
“You wouldn’t just say ‘And?’ if you saw how ugly this haircut is!” she responded indignantly. “It’s hideous! I can’t believe he did this to me! Now I have to put up with it until his hair grows back.”
My sister and Carlos have been together for almost 10 years. They are still looking for a salon that will do justice to his great hair.