Reader’s Digest-Rejected Humor Submissions
.
.
*****
Hoping to put me at ease in the middle of an uncomfortable examination, my Gynecologist tried striking up a casual conversation.
After noticing the writing on my t-shirt read “Me Gusta Mexico,” he asked, “Hables Espanol?”
I couldn’t resist. “Seriously Doc, is this a Vagina Inspection or the Spanish Inquisition?” I replied, tongue-in-cheek.
– Betty G. (Life in these United States, Submitted Jun 2006)
.
*****
Just as I was finishing my hike at Yosemite National Park, I heard a group of men discussing recent bear sightings.
“If you meet a bear, don’t run,” one guy said. His friend seemed surprised. “Really? Why?”
Because, I cut in, “Bears like fast food.”
They laughed, but not before kicking the living shit out of me.
-Dan E. (Life in these United States, Submitted Feb. 2005)
.
*****
Washing my hands in the office bathroom one morning, I noticed a semi-automatic pistol fall out of a colleague’s jacket pocket. I became extremely nervous, but he had a legitimate explanation.
“I collect guns,” he said.
-John L. (Life in these United States, Submitted Oct. 2002)
.
*****
I was on my knees in the kitchen, trying to scrub down the dirt-laden floor. While I was slaving away, my husband came home after playing a round of golf with his buddies.
“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I replied, somewhat annoyed.
“Hang on a minute, I’ll be right back.” I was so excited. Finally I was going to get some help!
A few minutes later he came back and stood in front of me, naked from the waist down.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
“Well, since you’re already down there,” he replied matter-of-factly.
He had a point. I mean, I was already down there!
-Anna W. (Life in the United States, Submitted Jan 2007)
.
*****
We were playing “I spy with my little eye” one evening at dinner. When my five-year-old daughter’s turn came, she asked us to guess something with the letter P.
The three of us, including my husband and older son, scanned the entire room and mentioned visible articles such as pot, pillow and pantry. All of us were wrong. Finally we gave up and asked her for the answer.
“Phucking disgusting casserole,” she said.
- LeAnne M. (As Kids See It, Submitted Jan. 2007)
Bschooled,
It appears to me that you have a fine start to what would surely be an excellent book. I recognize that the folks at Reader’s Digest have a high standard for humor but I believe the world needs more of these types of pithy “slice of life” stories.
I’m not sure if Sam Knopf is still the top dog over at Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., but I’ve always liked their paper stock, excellent typography and plain covers. I would suggest you give Sam a call and offer him first crack at publishing your collected works.
As a follow up, you may wish to consider rejected Garfield Strip ideas. There are scores of Garfield fans out there who, like me, have sent Jim Davis suggestions for amusing and heart-warming strips. Unfortunately, Mr. Davis appears to have the same elitist attitude toward humor as Reader’s Digest.
I thought my Garfield was damned good. Granted, having him euthanized as the punch may have been “problematic from go-forward and marketing perspective” (as that damned Jim Davis wrote in his terse response) but there really was no other logical ending after I had set up the botched neutering joke.
Wonderful work, Bshooled.
All the best,
Your friend
Don
Don!
Like I always say, great minds think alike. To tell you the truth, I’m in talks with a publisher right now. I met a guy on Facebook Marketplace (it’s a classified section on a social networking site that kids are using these days) who happened to be selling his publishing services real cheap. He says he really sees this book taking off (he’s so good he didn’t even need to look at it!), and all I have to do is send him $600 via Western Express to cover something or other (unfortunately his written English isn’t all that great so I’m not sure about that part). He said that in three weeks he’ll have the books ready to go, and eventually I’ll earn back eleventeen times that amount!
I was going to ask a favor though, Don. Seeing as you’ve always been my elderly mentor, I was wondering if you would send me some of your rejected submissions to fill up a few of the 215 blank pages I have left over. I was thinking we could put your Garfield strips (I can’t believe those got rejected…I mean who hates Mondays more than Garfield??) at the front, and then you could write a few “Amazing Stories of Survival”, where you write about the good old days growing up with your father.
You don’t need to answer now, but please do consider it. I’ll even split the profits (once I figure out what half of eleventeen*600 is).
And if things work out, who knows…I may be wheeling you to Hollywood!
Your friend (and potential business partner),
Bschooled
ps. Botched neutering jokes would totally kill in my book.
I find Anna W’s story to be solemn yet uplifting. Would you happen to have her address by any chance? I want to deliver a “package” to her while she is scrubbing the floor and her husband is out golfing.
By the way, I think “Hables Espanol?” means “Why does your vagina have that funny smell?” (But I could be wrong).
TL, you’re in luck!
Turns out Anna W. and her husband split up (obviously not her decision), and although she’s pretty heartbroken over it, she’s decided that the best way to get over someone is to quickly get under someone else (I may or may not have given her this advice myself…tough to say.)
Anyway, I sent her the link to your website, told her about some the things you like to do (pant parties, Brazilian PPs, backdooring, Sarah Palin, punching a la donkey style, Selma Hayek’s breasts), as well as the things you don’t (Tina Yothers…er, I think that about covers it), and needless to say, she thinks you guys would be a great match.
Merry Christmas, TL!
Oh, and don’t worry about getting me a gift in return…I’d rather you just pay it forward.
I can not understand how these misanthropic editors can possibly deny us this gut busting hilarity. I’m convinced that the bastards wouldn’t know funny if funny’s name were Rosie O’Donnell and she sat on their faces. It’s just like these East Coast elitists to try to put the kibosh on anything good. I don’t actually know where the Reader’s Digest offices are but I’ll bet they’re on the East Coast. And I’ll bet they’re swirling brandy around in a crystal Cognac tumbler, lighting their Phillie Blunts with a genuine Bic, looking down perfect, spray tanned noses, and rolling their beautiful, blue, bespectacled eyes at all of us regular folk. Bastards.
Why does Whoopi get to make all of those vagina jokes? She’s always, “My vagina this…my vagina that….my vagina ate a coathanger…yada yada yada” But poor Betty G can’t get away with one nice, decent vagina joke.
Misunderstood Denise Eden can’t get to share her funny joke with all of us but if it were that God Damn Jeff Foxworthy, all he’d add was ‘redneck’ 443 times, and he’d be a freaking genius to them, huh?
Outcast John didn’t get to share with us all his harrowing, but very funny toilet/firearm story but if Chris Rock talks about guns it’s ok because he’s black and he’s allowed to tell toilet and gun jokes.
Why does Andrew Dice Clay get to tell filthy oral sex jokes and make all of those disgusting noises, and totally suck…but still get to tell his ‘well, since you’re down there’ joke but our own Anna is treated like some kinds leper for the same thing?
And what devil worshipping comedian hasn’t gotten themselves fame and accolade from profanity laced tirades. Can LeAnne get away with it even though she didn’t say fuck but said Phuck. NO because she’s just a normal person.
It’s just not fair. Phuck Phuck Phuck now I’m mad!
Scott,
Like Jay Morse (who can be found here in case you forgot- http://justmakingconvo.com/2009/11/14/billboards-greatest-hits-part-iii/ ), FJ and I always say, “I know, I know.”
Whoopi’s vagina can eat a closet full of coathangers, but tell one gynecologist joke, and you’re shunned from one of the most hilarious publications of all time. When’s the hypocrisy going to end?
One thing we do know is that hypocrisy isn’t going to end with the fundies. Nor with those who passed Proposition 8. (Are those the same people?…Tough to say).
I do know one other thing. I know that I need to stop answering your comments at 4am. And I know that I need to stop getting up at 4am in order to start my freaking car in this minus 34 degree (celsius) weather. Oh, and I also know that I need to move out of this city that has minus phucking 34 degree (celsius) weather.
Ha! I guess I knew three other things…who knew?
Thank you for the hilarious comment, Scott. Needless to say, you’re funnier than a room full of these phuck-ups. In fact, you’re “Chuck’s nuts” funny…
(Sorry, I know I wasn’t going to bring up Chuck’s nuts again, but I just couldn’t help it…it’s like a disease. Like Elephantitis or something.)
Believe me B, I could never forget about Jay Morse. When is all of this hypocrisy going to end you ask? I say it’s time to end it now. Today. Or maybe tomorrow if today becomes busy. I’m a notorious procrastinator. Anyway, I say it’s time to roll up our phucking sleeves and take back our country. Or our continent. Phuck it, lets take back the whole world from those who don’t ‘do’ funny!
Since I’m obviously addicted…and retarded….
God wanted to create the world in 10 days, Chuck’s nuts told him he better have it done in 7.
Chuck’s nuts are the 9th and 10th wonder of the world.
Thank you Scott.
I’m so glad the hypocrisy has finally ended. I was beginning to think I was going to have to spend all day shoveling hypocrisy from my sidewalk in this freaking minus eleventeen thousand weather.
It wouldn’t be so bad had I not already spent the money my Mother gave me for warm Winter gloves on cheap hookers and substandard blow, but like I always say (or have said at least once or twice in by Billboard’s Greatest Hits post), “Heinsight is 20/20″.
But I digress.
Unfortunately I must go now, Scott, I have a personal training session with Chuck’s nuts. If you don’t hear from me by noon, call the police.
And tell them to bring their ‘ball’istic shields.
(seriously, wtf am I talking about???)
Ying, can I step into that mind of yours for a few minutes to look around?
HA!
“That’s what she said!”
(Forgive me Yang, I have no idea what I just wrote…it’s early)
I have been telling LeAnne for years that she can burn water and me and the kids will be eating take out from now on.
Phucking Chinese food or phucking delicious pizza?
It’s all phucking good.
Phucking right, it is!
If only the Schytts were here…
Is Anna W. really married to Tiger Woods??
And kudos for having the courage to drop the ‘Ph-bombs’ on your blog.
I think she might be…if not, I’m sure she’s at least slept with him. (Who hasn’t lately?)
And thank-you for your support, FJ. It means a lot. I realized a while ago (two days and counting), that if I don’t “push the envelope”, I’m never going to grow as a blogger.
I have had a few thing starting with “p” at my dinner table!
Gynos need a sense of humor
“I noticed a semi-automatic pistol fall out of a colleague’s jacket pocket.” What’s his dick doing in his jacket pocket? I don’t get it!!!!
Gynos definitely need a sense of humor!
In fact, in order to graduate they should be forced to take a course in Comedy…or at least in personality.
They give new meaning to the term “awkward silence”…
I’ll have to look into the dick in a pocket, frigginloon. I myself am only familiar with the dick in a box…
Anna W. took multitasking to a whole other level (a low level, but still a level). I’m glad she got divorced – hopefully she’ll find someone who will really appreciate her skills.
A little gynecological humour never goes amiss. Reader’s Digest needs to move with the times.
You speak the truth. Levels are still levels, no matter in which direction they go…
(?)
Anyway Talon, you’ll be happy to know that I’m making it my mission to eradicate the old ways of Reader’s Digest thinking. Ever since my mission to eradicate cameltoe fell through, I’ve been looking for something else to do with my spare time (read: from 8-5 Mon-Fri).
Between you me and the comment thread, I think I may have hit the “eradication jackpot” this time…
Phucking beautiful!
I can’t phucking believe this post, B! It’s phucking wicked, and allows me to write like I mean it, in the Southy venacular my buzz cut micky Da passed on during an all night love fest with Guiness and shooters of Jameson. And what’s with these phucking lame gun laws? I had to jump through hoops to get a vast arsenal that is every American’s birthright, ever since the phucking British tried to reel in their misfit refugees.
Phuck ‘em, B. Phuck ‘em all, and tell that doctor to get his tongue out from between your cheeks (did you not say “tongue in cheek?).
Damn British.
Where was I? . . . Aw phuck it. Your talent is phucking awesome (a quick nod to Lars, the heavy metal star)!
Damn British indeed, Invasive1!
And yes, I did say tongue in cheek. (Well, whoever wrote that brilliant submission did, anyway.)
Actually, if you want to get technical, he/she/it? originally wrote “tongue firmly-in-cheek”, however I decided to change it at the last minute. There was just too much hilarity going on as it was. (Those writers really need to learn how to spread that shit out).
Thanks for the phucking phabulous comment, Invasive1. If it weren’t for you and your hilarious phlashbacks, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
(And to answer your unspoken question, no…I have no idea what that phucking means either)
I think Denise E and Anna W would make a great celebrity lesbian couple
Haha! Believe it or not, I never thought of that…
Knowing their crazy antics, they’d probably end up with their own Reality show…
Those bastards at Reader’s Digest keep turning down the only jokes I would actually laugh at. They must be too busy running down the latest fitness craze for the 60+ crowd or sharing Blue Ribbon recipes that ask for specific brand names, which are always conveniently advertised on the same page.
You, singlehandedly, could turn boring old Reader’s Digest into the National Lampoon, which would be better in the long run (except for the whole “going out of business” aspect).
Two quick hits:
Perhaps Betty G. could have gotten hers published if she had added a “going south of the border” entendre or perhaps worked “taco” in there more inappropriately.
I also believe Anna’s husband was asking her to look for his pants, which he misplaced earlier, possibly below the kitchen table.
CLT,
I think you may be right. Because Reader’s Digest has spent the last 80 (or so) years obsessed with trying to achieve the elderly altheticism standards of Prevention Magazine (which theoretically makes no sense seeing as they began publication 28 years earlier), their “funny” seems to have taken a seroius hit. So much so, in fact, that the entire Humor section resembles something that could be taken straight out of Peter Pauper’s “Pun Book” (see previous post for reference).
Thank-you for the snort-worthy comment (unfortunately I’m being literal here), CLT. I can’t believe
IBetty G. didn’t think of the South of the border idea.bschooled, I’ve canceled my Reader Digest subscription because your rejected submissions are much better than the accepted ones and you books are much better than the stories they publish. I was reading Loons comment and was also baffled and befuddled by the pistol in the jacket? But, I’d much rather ask that you explain the “dick in the box” comment in detail?
Come on Cat God Frank isn’t that what you men call it…a semi automatic ? Sometimes it works on it’s own, other time you have to pull the trigger!!!
Loon?
Well, first of, what do you mean by “you men”. Are you including undecided, transvestites, wannabes, pre-ops, strap-… um, subject change.
As far as what we call it? I’ve never called it a semi-automatic… I thought you were referring to the rate of fire and not how the trigger is pulled?
Hey CatGod,
Thank-you for the positive feedback on these negatively recieved submissions. Although I can’t take all the credit, if it weren’t for the millions of rejected Readers Digest submitters (?) out there I wouldn’t be where I am today.
Actually that’s not true.
Ok, let’s just say that I’d probably still be here, but I definitely wouldn’t have written this post.
Anyway, I honestly can’t tell you what I meant by that “dick in the box” comment either. I think I was just so thrown off by frigginloon’s comment that my fingers started taking on a life of their own. Or maybe it was the two litres of cheap boxed wine I’d had before dinner. (Tough to say.)
When I figure it out, though, I promise you’ll be the first (or second after me) to know.
Always good to see you, Frank/CatGod,
bschooled:)
Well, bschooled, I often think that I live in the not true so I am with you or maybe not with you, but I do understand or not understand what your talking or not talking about. Okay, really, I have no idea what I’m talking about or not talking about right now so I’ll not start over.
I do understand that a box of wine could affect your ability to communicate. When you get that ability back or not back, I am just fine with being the first to know or second to know and not the first to know, but third? Well, I’ll have to think about that… or not think about that.