do people go to therapy to deal with their innerRon?
I had a student who was a Ron, but of course no one got it when I said “Whoa, he is such a Ron…” (handy hint: in a real live conversation, people can’t click on your phrases to get a link)
He was the first student ever to be asked to not be part of our program. And, of course, he had plenty of excuses and reasons why it’s everyone else’s fault. We just don’t understand, or recognize his Awesomeness.
Or is it RONosity?
Hah, I remember so many laughs from this thread, it’s tempting to go back and reread to recycle all the humor.
This thread is fertile ground for making a bunch of “Scumbag Steve” type meme pictures, but instead, we could call it… Moron Ron!
More Ron! More Ron! Yay!!!
Just seeing this thread resurrected brings back sweet, sweet memories! Truly, this thread has made me Let’s go to the quarry and throw stuff down there so much! You’re not alone voltaire, but I’m not just tempted; I’m definitely going to re-read this thread tomorrow (at work, natch).
He kinda sounds perfect for the job of Vice President of the United States.
“Enunciate, fuckface!” might be a better translation.
Ron.
No need to be redundant.
Just… Ron.
The same guy that drank his exit tax from Peru, was pulled off the plane, had to sell his watch and was on crutches doing mushrooms in the JiffyMart when he got the giggles in a crowded line and dropped $9 worth of pennies on the floor has one more offering.
In college he (Dug) went out to a friend’s country home to grill burgers and do some mushrooms. They liked mushrooms. It was a great place for that, all quiet and private, no surprise visitors. Well, they were sitting there after the meal, pleasantly baking on shrooms and watching cartoons when all of a sudden they see a guy through the front window run across the yard with an axe.
Looking at each other, they verified that the other person had in fact seen that and, satisfied they weren’t hallucinating, jumped up to look out. There were several more men running through their yard with axes. And shovels. And a firehose. And here are police cars too with lights flashing. Dug turns down the Pink Floyd on the stereo and, sure enough, sirens!
So, they turn and look out the huge picture window in back and there’s the storage shed and an entire field of corn consumed in a wall of fire and a dozen men in big hats are trying to look in their house to see if any slack jawed morons are home.
Dug and Greg grab a couple of handtowels from the sink, wet them and attempt to swat out the burning field, but it doesn’t work. The firemen ask them how this started and Greg assures them he has no idea. And he really didn’t until Dug, it’s always Dug, pulled him to the side and says that (inexplicably) he emptied the hot coals from the grill at the edge of the field, but was careful to make sure not anywhere near anything that might possibly catch on fire.
He missed.
Oh man, I so knew someone like that … he was always screwing up while high. 
Funniest was the time (oh, a good few decades ago now, when we were teens) this buddy of mine was smoking a joint in a ravine with a few friends when he suddenly realized he was supposed to meet his parents at his house and it was almost time … but he doesn’t want them seeing him come home high-he wants to pretend he never went out. So he gets the brilliant idea of sneaking into the backyard of his house from a handy ravine it backs onto. I was there when he set out for home; I was there when he mooched on back.
Only problem - said ravine was (a) quite steep and full of uncleared brush; and (b) it was early spring, so it was also rather full of melting snow, mud, and run-off. So in unobtrusively sneaking through the ravine while high, the poor fellow had a few falls, got soaked to the skin and COVERED from head to toe in thick, sticky mud, and rather banged about, scratched up, and covered with leaves and brambles - when he came back, he looked like a cross between the last survivor of an airplane crash and an unhappy golem in the process of melting.
When he reached his house, he nonetheless tried to sneak over the fence. Unfortunately, his mom was in the backyard at the time … her screams at this apparation apparently intent on breaking in set him running back through the ravine. He cleaned himself up at his buddy’s house and I never did hear what explaination he gave to his parents.
OK, “e-nun-ciate, fuckface!” it is. Thanks for the new word!
Enunciate or fuckface?
Thanks everyone for keeping the Ron Thread alive.
I’m now single again and am finding myself running in to a few Ronulian types as I wade back in to the dating pool.
I’ve been blogging about it, for those who are interested.
I hope my previous participation as a member here does not mean that linking my blog makes it spam :D:smack:
A former co-worker managed to spend most of her paychecks as fast as they hit her account. One day she was bragging about how much self-control she’d shown over the weekend. She’d gone to the outlet mall with her sister and hadn’t spent a penny.
Well, she’d gone into a store and paid $50 on her store credit card, but that didn’t count because it was just cancelling out a debt she’d already incurred.
And then she’d spotted a dress for $60 and bought it. But that just replaced the $50 she used to owe on her credit card, so really she’d paid off her credit card and bought a dress and only spent $10.
The scary part was that our jobs were in the company’s finance department.
Wow. Blast from the past. Love this thread. I just spent a whole month with a Ron. I recited the serenity prayer a lot.melodyharmonius: I dig the blog.
This thread was much funnier before my new department head arrived. Ron is a complete and utter Ron. I could use a little more space between this thread and my life.
Thanks! It’s been fun. As a new addition to the blog, I’ll be posting one of my original Ron stories from this thread each Monday. I’m calling it . . .Rondays.
“If Valentines Day fall on Ronday, stay home”. - old dopish proverb.
Hey! Did you know Rons originated in Norway?
I passed through there last week. A pity I didn’t have time to step out and get a picture of me next to the village sign next to the highway.
That explains so much.
I can’t believe I missed this thread first times around.
It reminds me of a comedy routine about a guy who dates a woman who spends all her time talking about how great her ex-boyfriend Doug was. Doug owns a car. Doug works in finance. Doug was a great athlete. Etc. Then they run into Doug, on a date with someone else. Doug and the first women start fighting so the guy starts talking to the second woman.
“You were in a date with Doug! I’ve been hearing all night what a great guy he is!”
“Yeah?”, Doug’s date replies. “Me too!”.
“You want to get a drink? I must warn you… I’m no Doug.”
“I’m sold… just let me get my stuff.”…