Tax deduction question

[Thinkbigger]

I'm thinking of claiming my family's yearly toilet paper expenses as a medical deduction on my taxes.

My contention is that toilet paper is, in actuality, a low tech fecal matter test strip. Here's how it works: Upon swabbing the affected area, if the test strip remains white that would indicate a negative result. If it appears brown, it's positive.

[Alexander]

I'm not sure I follow your train of thought.

[Whitney]

I'm not sure I follow your train of thought.

I don't think there is any actual thought to follow in this case...he's already been through a 1 week ban and is probably just trying to see what we'd do if he posted something like this.

[Squid]

[Thinkbigger]

I'm not sure I follow your train of thought.

lulz

I don't think there is any actual thought to follow in this case...he's already been through a 1 week ban and is probably just trying to see what we'd do if he posted something like this.

I wrote this joke while preparing my business taxes and didn't suspect that it would be inappropriate for the laid back lounge. Good thing this isn't the uptight lounge!

Ain't this where you guys said I should go to post? Nothing controversial right? Are you offended? Come on, give me some insight here, please.

[Thinkbigger]

Book of House 2:14 "Our bodies break down, sometimes when we're 90, sometimes before we're even born, but it always happens and there's never any dignity in it. I don't care if you can walk, see, wipe your own ass. It's always ugly - always! We can live with dignity - we can't die with it."

  Perfectly depressingly uninspiring.

[terranus]

Don't think the IRS will go for that one.

[Recusant]

Out of respect for your avatar, you should put a little more effort into your humor.

 [youtube:3d0y0fe4]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41SFTn9xHus[/youtube:3d0y0fe4]

Now, that's how it's done.

[Thinkbigger]

Well I guess you would know. After all, infidel barbarians are just plain born funny aren't they?

Favor us with a joke that you've personally wrote, won't you please? C'mon.. be funny.

[Recusant]

Well I guess you would know. After all, infidel barbarians are just plain born funny aren't they?

Nope.

Favor us with a joke that you've personally wrote, won't you please? C'mon.. be funny.

My jokes aren't funny.  I've found that if I could be said to have any gift in the area of humor, it's as a straight man.  People have gotten huge laughs replying to my set-up lines. I can see the humor in a particular topic, but when I try to make the funny line myself, it almost always falls flat.  On the other hand, I have the ability to say something that exposes the humor which otherwise might lay dormant, and a witty person can riff off of it to devastating effect.  I'm like a good pitcher throwing batting practice; I can serve up nice fat ones for the real sluggers to slap out into the seats. At least I know my limitations.

To make a poop joke which anybody but a 5 year old finds amusing takes real talent.  You may have that talent, but this joke of yours doesn't exhibit it. I'm being sincere when I say thanks for trying, though.

[Thinkbigger]

Favor us with a joke that you've personally wrote, won't you please? C'mon.. be funny.

My jokes aren't funny.  I've found that if I could be said to have any gift in the area of humor, it's as a straight man.  People have gotten huge laughs replying to my set-up lines. I can see the humor in a particular topic, but when I try to make the funny line myself, it almost always falls flat.  On the other hand, I have the ability to say something that exposes the humor which otherwise might lay dormant, and a witty person can riff off of it to devastating effect.  I'm like a good pitcher throwing batting practice; I can serve up nice fat ones for the real sluggers to slap out into the seats. At least I know my limitations.

To make a poop joke which anybody but a 5 year old finds amusing takes real talent.  You may have that talent, but this joke of yours doesn't exhibit it. I'm being sincere when I say thanks for trying, though.

Good straight men are hard to find. At least according to my sister-in-law.

To make a poop joke which anybody but a 5 year old finds amusing takes real talent.  You may have that talent, but this joke of yours doesn't exhibit it. I'm being sincere when I say thanks for trying, though.

Technically, it was a tax time joke concerning toilet paper in which the word "poop" did not appear at all.

As for your critique, I'm being sincere when I say thanks for trying, though.

Nothing personal, but here's a joke I wrote that I'd like you to critique: What has four legs and sucks?.........pause.........
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You and your brother!

[Recusant]

:raised:

[Thinkbigger]

:drool    

You're showing mild improvement.  That's one that a 9 year old might find amusing.  At this rate, only about 4 more jokes to go and you'll be gracing the forum with some quality humor. I suppose it could happen. You'll pardon me if I don't hold my breath.   roflol

[Ihateyoumike]

So far, I agree that your humor is not really funny at all. Better than your trolling efforts. You just flat out fail on that one.

[Recusant]

Thank you for your critique. You'll have to pardon me if I don't hold your opinions on my humor, solicited or otherwise, as the ultimate guide to what's funny or not. After all, you are a self admitted non-comedic person.

I did admit that I'm not as adept at the comedic quip as some of my fellows; and in fact I'm not a master of the well considered drollery either.  That doesn't mean I'm totally lacking in the niceties of comedic art.  I already explained my specialty. A good straight man gets forgotten in the hilarity which follows the funny man's response; that doesn't mean that he had nothing to do with bringing humor to the audience.  I'm just as much a devotee of Thalia as the next fellow, and more than some.

Can you share a bit of sophisticated humor in order to inform me as to what you do think is funny? It doesn't necessarily have to be yours.

I don't know that humor has to be sophisticated to be good.  In my opinion, good humor is not asinine, and avoids puerility for its own sake.  My taste is not everyone's, and while I'll share a sample or two of what I enjoy, I don't expect anyone to be rolling on the floor after reading them.  A couple of George Ade's fables:

Cognizant Of Our Shortcomings
By George Ade

On the deck of a Trans-Atlantic Skiff, a certain Old Traveler, who owed allegiance to George and Mary, reclined on his Cervical Vertebrae with a Plaid Shawl across him and roasted Our Native Land.

He told the American in the next Steamer Chair that he had been unable to get his Tea at the usual Hour, and out in the place called Minnie- Apples the stupid Waiter never had heard of Bloaters for Breakfast. Furthermore, he had not seen his Boots again after placing them outside the Door in Chicago.

The Houses were overheated and the Railway Carriages were not like those at Home, and the Reporters were Forward Chaps, and Ice should not be added with the Soda, because it was not being Done.

He was jolly glad to escape from the Wretched Hole and get back to his own Lodgings, where he could go into Cold Storage and have a Joint of Mutton and Brussels Sprouts as often as desired.

The Yankee cringed under the Attack and then fully agreed with the Son of amphibious Albion. He said we were a new and crude People who did not know how to wear Evening Clothes or eat Stilton Cheese, and our Politicians were corrupt, and Murderers went unpunished, while the Average Citizen was a dyspeptic Skate afflicted with Moral Strabismus.

Then he retired to his State Room to weep over the Situation, and the British Subject said: "The American is a Poltroon, for he will not defend his own Hearth and Fireside."

A Cook's Tourist from Emporia, Kansas, dropped into the Vacant Chair. When the Delegate from The Rookery, Wormwood Scrubs, Islington S. E., resumed his scorching Arraignment of the U. S. A., he got an awful Rise out of the Boy from the Corn Belt.

The Emporia Man said there were more Bath Tubs to the Square Mile out in his Burg than you could find in the West End of London, and more Paupers and Beggars in one Square Mile of the East End of London than you could find in the whole State of Kansas. He said there were fewer Murders in England because good Opportunities were being overlooked.

He said he could Tip any one in England except, possibly, the Archbishop of Canterbury.

It was his unbiased Opinion that London consisted of a vast swarm of melancholy Members of the Middle and Lower Classes of the Animal Kingdom who ate Sponge Cake with Clinkers in it, drank Tea, smoked Pipes and rode by Bus, and thought they were Living.

Standing beneath the rippling folds of Old Glory, the proud Citizen of the Great Republic declared that we could wallop Great Britain at any Game from Polo up to Prize-Fighting and if we cut down on the Food Supplies the whole blamed Runt of an undersized Island would starve to death in a Week.

With quivering Nostrils, he heaped Scorn and Contumely upon any Race that would call a Pie a Tart. In conclusion, he expressed Pity for those who never had tasted Corn on the Cob.

After he had gone up to the Bridge Deck to play Shuffle-Board, the Representative of the Tightest little Island on the Map took out his Note-Book and made the following Entry: "Every Beggar living in the States is a Bounder and a Braggart."

That evening in the Smoke Room he began to pull his favorite Specialty of ragging the Yanks on a New Yorker, who interrupted him by saying: "Really, I know nothing about my own Country. I spend the Winter in Egypt, the Spring in London, the Summer in Carlsbad, and the Autumn in Paree."

So the Traveler afterward reported to a Learned Society that the Typical American had become a denatured Expatriate.

MORAL: No Chance.[/size]

The Fable Of How The Fool-Killer Backed Out Of A Contract
by George Ade

The Fool-Killer came along the Pike Road one Day and stopped to look at a Strange Sight.

Inside of a Barricade were several Thousands of Men, Women and Children. They were moving restlessly among the trampled Weeds, which were clotted with Watermelon Rinds, Chicken Bones, Straw and torn Paper Bags.

It was a very hot Day. The People could not sit down. They shuffled Wearily and were pop-eyed with Lassitude and Discouragement.

A stifling Dust enveloped them. They Gasped and Sniffled. Some tried to alleviate their Sufferings by gulping down a Pink Beverage made of Drug-Store Acid, which fed the Fires of Thirst.

Thus they wove and interwove in the smoky Oven. The Whimper or the faltering Wail of Children, the quavering Sigh of overlaced Women, and the long-drawn Profanity of Men--these were what the Fool-Killer heard as he looked upon the Suffering Throng.

"Is this a new Wrinkle on Dante's Inferno?" he asked of the Man on the Gate, who wore a green Badge marked "Marshal," and was taking Tickets.

"No, sir; this is a County Fair," was the reply.

"Why do the People congregate in the Weeds and allow the Sun to warp them?"

"Because Everybody does it."

"Do they Pay to get in?"

"You know it."

"Can they Escape?"

"They can, but they prefer to Stick."

The Fool-Killer hefted his Club and then looked at the Crowd and shook his Head doubtfully.

"I can't tackle that Outfit to-day," he said. "It's too big a Job."

So he went on into Town, and singled out a Main Street Merchant who refused to Advertise.

MORAL: People who expect to be Luny will find it safer to travel in a Bunch.

Here's one I just made up: Your Momma has her own event horizon. <img src="{SMILIES_PATH}/spit.gif" alt="roflol" title="roflol" />

Yep; you're making progress.  A 13 year old would find that very clever.