Stupid Brain

By Mark Hofmann

Stupid Brain is semi-popular humor columnist Mark Hofmann's take on Life, Liberty and Lampoons. Read in mild splendor his collection of in-depth columns and thought-provoking essays on such topics like how to talk to your kids about creepy clowns, winning a battle of wills against a car's GPS, virtual surgery apps on your phone, Mark's cover letter to NASA to be a space-cop, the horrors of his stepdaughter's birthday party, how and why you should never eat wings when you're dating and other random thoughts that have entered his Stupid Brain.
This book contains columns originally published in the Herald-Standard newspaper as well as pages and pages of bonus materials never before published...for good reason.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Hofmann
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005704582

Mark Hofmann

Mark Hofmann is a newspaper reporter for nearly twenty years as well as a humor columnist, living and working in Southwestern Pennsylvania, USA, North America, Earth, Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy (you never know who's reading!). His column, "According to Hofmann", is published weekly in the Herald-Standard newspaper in Southwestern Pennsylvania, USA, etc....He had dreams of being a male model who solves crimes in his spare time, but reality and relentless body shaming slapped him in the face and brought him to the path on which he now struts his stuff.Mark has also written, acted and directed stage plays and started his own mystery dinner theater troupe named "Banquet Bandits", which had a successful run until the actors started eating food during their performances by picking food off the plates of the audience.Along with working for the newspaper, Mark also co-hosts a weekly radio show, "Locally Yours" on WMBS Uniontown, PA, USA...He lives with his wife, stepdaughter, mother and their dog.

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

I have this lawn mower. It’s mentioned a little later in this book, but let me tell you about this contraption.

The mower is a hand-me-down from my dearly-departed grandfather I inherited when I moved into his house. I don’t know much about this history of the thing—only that it was acquired it sometime in the early 1990’s and even then, it was considered an old antique relic.

After moving in the house with my then future (now current) wife, Amber, and my then future (now current) stepdaughter, Emma, the mower worked okay during that first summer. Of course, that was after I had to drag it out of the shed—literally dragged it out—and pushed it (also, literally) down to my car where I had to jump start (literally, with literal jumper cables) the ancient battery to get the thing running.

However, like all semi-working things including government bureaucrats and artificial livers, it didn’t last long.

Even though my parents were kind enough to purchase a battery for me as a birthday present to avoid jump starting the tractor and screaming, Fire in the hole! and waking the neighbors at 5 a.m., those little odd and ends started to go like a bolt, a belt, the shifter, the brakes, the wheels, etc.

It got to the point where I had to use the push mower (another hand-me-down machine with issues), which is normally used for those hard-to-reach places to cut like up and down the steep hillside, over snake pits, across Viet Cong-style booby traps and even worse, avoiding turds from our dog, Buddy.

Which brings me to the subject of this book: dog turds. Or better yet, the fact that I need people to buy this thing so I can get a new, a gently-used tractor or a somewhat harshly-used tractor. If you’re reading this and bought this book, then thank you so much for contributing to the fund, and I’ll think about you always as I eventually ride my new tractor safely over snakes, poop and snares.

If by some miracle you happen to be reading this in a bookstore—wait, they don’t exist anymore, right? I mean, if you’re reading this as a sample online, then consider putting down a few bucks on it or selecting a purchase button, and I will think about you when I’m mowing my lawn. Yes, I’m that committed.

What you’ll get in return is a collection of my columns written for the Herald-Standard, a newspaper in Uniontown, Pennsylvania, where I work as the courthouse reporter and write the weekly humor column, According to Hofmann. Yes, I never thought I’d have both titles on a business card, but I don’t even have a business card or a playing card for that matter.

I owe a special thanks for the Herald-Standard for allowing me to write a column after an editor informed me that I could contribute to the weekly Off The Record column for which all the reporters and editors can voluntarily submit material.

When I asked if it could be funny, they said sure, but I forgot to ask if I can make it weird—weird like people ask you what’s wrong with you and yet they hesitate to call the authorities until they get to know you better, and then they quickly and frequently call the authorities.

Fortunately, writing a few columns worked out well, and the newspaper eventually gave me my own column after several anonymous messages starting appearing in the style of ransom notes signed with a bloody kiss that Mark Hofmann should have his own column...or else!

WIth that, I hope you enjoy this book, and if you happen to be one of the seven regular readers of According to Hofmann and are now worried that you’ve been had by a master shuckster such as myself as you’ve previously read all the columns in this book in the newspaper, I have good news for you. The book is filled with online According to Hofmann content such as Brain Vapors, Failed Lifecoach Tips as well as bonus material never before published or seen by human eyes.

With that, let’s raise some money for a new mower because at the time of this writing, the grass is about knee high and is moving in spots because I believe there’s a turf war between the snakes and the jungle rats that have nested near Emma’s swing set.

Thanks!

Mark Hofmann

May 15, 2018

MONEY MAKES THE CHILD GO 'ROUND

Much has been said about money—that it makes the world go around, that it’s the root of all evil or that it’s effective as a topical ointment for brush burn. I recently discovered it also sends children into hyperdrive to do chores, no matter what.

Recently, my six-year-old stepdaughter told me she needs a new book bag...entirely dismissing the fact she has three others in good condition. I’m sure this came about as some other girl at school has a new book bag or someone said something about a new book bag or she heard the word book and bag sometime during the school day.

For example, in the morning, her teacher probably said, Okay, class, let’s take out our books. And in the afternoon, somebopellow kindergarten student was yelled at for trying to eat out of a full bag of garbage.

So my wife and I had to endure the begging and pleading for a new—well, a new-er—book bag, and those tactful requests were met with constant rejection.

However, I had one of those pivotal parental moments where my stepdaughter can learn financial responsibility, and my wife and I can save some money as we ourselves are totally financially irresponsible.

The deal was for her to receive a quarter for every chore she completed—like putting toys away, making her bed or checking the dog for worms. You know, normal household stuff.

She was then expected to save that money and eventually buy whatever book bag she wanted, which I figured wouldn’t be until she enters junior high school or would totally forget about it when something pink and flashy appears on the television.

Wrong.

She feverishly went to work and reported that she quickly made twenty-five cents by picking up her toys. Of course, her 40 second playtime consisted of dumping blocks on the floor and promptly putting them back in the package.

After that, she started looking around the house for other similar backbreaking and time-consuming chores to do for profit and all the while projecting what payment she was going to receive for each one.

I suddenly had a vision of my little girl at a desk over a calculator, crunching numbers and then looking up at me over eyeglasses teetering on the edge of her nose and saying, Father, I’ve calculated this week’s earnings, and my gross income will be approximately $349. Will that be check or direct deposit?

It was then I realized I created a cute, blonde haired mini money monster incapable of being stopped by conventional weapons.

So, as my creation runs free and commits household havoc in the Hofmann residence, I have to go and continue the quest to save on vet bills by checking dog for worms myself.

CABLE CHANNELS OF DEATH!

I was always told that sex sells, but it turns out those long talks with my great-grandmother during my childhood weren’t entirely accurate.

With a job that keeps me busy, a kid that keeps me busier and a wife that watches her stories when she’s not keeping me busierer, I don’t have many opportunities to watch television.

Whenever I do sit down and join the family-fun TV viewing time, I have nearly 200 channels at my disposal, but with my ladies there, I’m generally stuck on everything between Nickelodeon and Oxygen.

So, every now and then, it’s refreshing when the ladies of the house have their girls’ day or girls’ time or girls’ restraining order, and I have the house to myself.

When I have those rare freedoms, not only do I have a chance to attempt to break my cheese-eating-in-one-sitting record without hearing criticism from people who say they don’t want to see me die today, I’m also able to watch TV in peace and quiet.

Better yet, I get to channel surf and find out what cable channels are new, changed, renamed, remarketed and repackaged … for DEATH!

Maybe it was my mood at the time, maybe it was seeing just a small portion of the programming lineup most channels have to offer, maybe it was the full moon, maybe I just like writing the word maybe, but maybe I’ve oversimplified what the channels represent, but maybe you’ll see that I have a point, maybe you won’t, but maybe you will...just maybe.

Here are some examples:

Investigation Discovery: see how people were killed

Cloo: see why they were killed

Court TV: see killers on trial

Reelz: see how celebrities died

History Channel: see how ancient civilizations died

DIY: see how you can kill yourself doing home projects, so the channel should be renamed DIY: Do In Yourself

Lifetime: see murder, death and obsession from the woman’s point of view

National Geographic (Nat Geo, if you’re a hipster): see how animals die in the wild

Animal Planet: see how your pets and everyone else’s pets can die

Disney: see how Bambi’s mom died

NHL Center Ice: see how a hockey puck will kill you

ESPN: see how professional athletes died

Syfy: see how aliens died and/or how people who died come back to haunt you to death and/or see how many people a Sharknado can kill

Discovery: for an entire week, see how sharks not spinning in a tornado can kill you

TV Land: see dead people when they were alive

CW: see how people die around superheroes

TBS: the Big Bang Theory is on pretty much 22 hours a day

BBC: see how people died from across the pond

VH1: see how rock stars died

MTV or Freeform (formally ABC Family): see how teenagers died

CNN, FOX, MSNBC: see who recently died

Weather Channel: see what storms killed people

Faith TV: learn how a deity is going to kill us

Science Channel: learn how science is going to kill us

Outdoor Channel: learn how Mother Nature is going to kill us

OWN: learn how Oprah Winfrey is going to kill us

Travel Channel: learn how your vacation is going to kill you

TLC: see how people’s lifestyles are killing them

HBO, Showtime, Cinemax, Starz: see naked people die gory deaths while using profane language

AMC: watch zombies kill people in gory ways and vice versa while using profane language

And after all of that, I figure it’s best to join my wife and watch her daytime soap operas because when someone dies on those shows, they normally come back within a couple of months to continue with the good, old-fashioned story lines full of sex and betrayal.

And that’s just the way my elders liked it.

THE GREAT CANDLE FUNDRAISING SWINDLE

I don't want to sound like a scammer out to bilk money from generous people, but a great scam to bilk money from generous people would be with false fundraising candle orders.

Some background on that, my seven-year-old stepdaughter, Emma, attends public school. I tried to home-school her, but then she said she wanted to try out for the volleyball team, and I'm too lazy to make a volleyball court in the backyard, let alone setting up a volleyball net, let alone going out to buy a volleyball. Plus, I have that work thing I'm supposed to do, so public school it is.

Anyway, out of the hundreds of thousands of papers she brings home on a weekly basis from class that my wife and I read, reread, ask Emma about and then e-mail her teacher to have Emma's explanation explained to us, every now and then there are fundraisers for stuff. What stuff, I don't know. My wife, Amber, handles all that crap.

But it makes me wonder why they just won't get rid of school taxes and replace it with fundraisers; therefore, we feel like we're not suckered out of money every year and people get chocolate, flowers, scented candles, hoagies and autographed nunchucks from Tim Norris, the lesser-known fictional brother of Chuck Norris.

Which brings me to my scam idea.

Whenever Amber and I have to haul around all this stuff to deliver to people on Emma's behalf—and I just realized she's running her own little scam as she gets all the credit for our labor, that brat—the item they completely forgot about seems to be the scented candles.

It's not like when they buy chocolate and every time they see you, they ask about it.

Hi, mom, I just found out the results of my urinalysis.

That's nice, Mark, but what about those chocolate-coated, caramel-filled pretzel nuggets I ordered for Easter?

When we received the candle order a few weeks ago, Amber had to call her friend to apologize because Emma forgot to put one of the items Amber’s friend ordered on the form, but her friend didn't even remember ordering the candles or even paying for them.

Then when Amber called her mother on behalf of Emma to tell her we—I mean, Emma—will deliver her candle order, Amber's mom also forgot about ordering the candles, but then grilled Amber about the status of the chocolate-covered gummy grub worms from the Halloween candy fundraiser that she hadn’t yet ordered.

That’s when I realized you can totally swindle someone out of loads of cash, especially since these scented candles go for $10 a pop. That's a lot of cash for funny-smelling wax, which I get for free every time I dig my house key in my ear canal.

Face it, unless you have some romance planned, a candle purchase is more like a delayed impulse buy. It’s the kind of item that you pick up if you see it at an artisan craft market where you think you’re saving the environment by purchasing the candle because it has twine wrapped around it or you’re buying it at your next shopping outing because you forgot to wash the dog in over a year, and he’s starting to get pretty ripe.

As an extra bonus, these school fundraising orders don’t normally