The best prank I have ever seen. Well, in order to tell a story with passion, I must refer to one of the longest, most intricate pranks I have ever taken part in. The outcome was SO worth it, so stick around for a bit, grab an iced tea and let me tell you a little story about a prank on a guy named Ken.

My sophomore year in college, I lived with two guys in a two bedroom apartment - I had one room and they shared the other room to cut costs. We got along well and did a lot of funny pranks on each other throughout the year - always meant to be in good fun. The warm bowl of water, the shortsheeting the bed, the letting the air out of the tires on their car (ok, not so funny, but guilty), it was all part of our life together.

The year ticked along and we decided to throw a big party and invite all of our friends and neighbors. And, like any good party in college, it started with a keg or two of beer, some loud music and absolutely nothing to snack on in an apartment living room meant for 6 people, yet somehow holding 50 - 60 without issue.

The party really got moving, the music got louder and the drinking games were underway. Eventually, we were visited by our friendly neighborhood police officer who broke it all up and we had to clear everyone out. But, this party had been going for a while and like any good shindig during college, we had some casualties - namely, for the sake of this story, a guy named Ken.

After the evacuation ended and my roomies and I got the place cleaned up, we found Ken passed out on one of the beds in their room. And, we had known him for a while and we knew there was no hope in waking him. So, we hung out for a bit, drank a bit more and finally we all crashed leaving Ken at peace.

But, this was not to be for long as Ken grumbled around and ended up waking the one roommate sleeping in the room just a bit after they went to bed. Ken sloppily got to his feet and fell across the room, slamming into the closet door. Now, my roommate, not really caring was just kind of watching. UNTIL, Ken opened the closet door and proceeded to 'empty his bladder' right into my roommates laundry hamper. You can imagine the shock of the roommate watching this, but he didn't do anything simply because it was not his laundry hamper.

Ken finished his deed and staggered back to the bed where he was and fell back into a deep sleep. A DEEP sleep that took him far into the morning the next day.

A lot went on while Ken was sleeping - mainly the prank was decided upon and action was taken. By 8 a.m. the next day, all parties, except Ken, were up and excitedly discussing the events of the previous night with a heavy focus on who was going to clean up the closet.

But, an idea took shape while we sat there - an idea that was formed when we realized that Ken's car keys were sitting on our kitchen table. Quickly, the plan was afoot and we were off to the local hardware store.

Now, what could we possibly have done? Well, we made 3 copies of Ken's car key. That's all. And, then we returned to the apartment and returned his keys to the kitchen table.

Ken eventually woke up with a massive hangover and stumbled out the door to get himself home where, knowing him, he probably went back to sleep.

3 copies of Ken's car keys - you're asking yourself - so what? What good would that do?

In the immediate future, it did us no good - we were in this for the 'long prank'. After about 30 days, we started putting the plan in action. We talked each day and we communicated who was going to be where and if any of us had seen Ken's car amongst a campus of 25,000 people. Ironically, we did see his car quite a bit.

It started out simple - one of us would see Ken's car and then use our newly acquired key to get in and move it. Just a few spaces at first, but enough that he would notice as most students would keep track of the space they parked in to make it easier to find later on.

We would try to move his car at least 3 times a week and then just wait. We didn't have to wait for long. Ken started griping to people that he needed to cut down on his drinking and other assorted things as he kept misplacing his car. He was even going so far as to write down the spot number. But, when he came out after his classes, he was finding his car in a spot a few down - at least according to his memory.

But, he had always found his car, so he never really put anything together. He was just racking it up to a foggy memory brought on by the typical college life.

This is when the prank started to pick up some speed.

Now, knowing we had Ken completely confused and there wasn't any way he could attribute the issues he was having with the car to us, we stepped up our efforts. The plan was now to move the car to a different parking lot altogether.

The first time went down without issue. But, not for Ken - we made sure we were over at his house with his roommates for an impromptu party. He came in 'frazzled' - heck, a complete basket case. He was swearing, kicking the couch and screaming that his car moved. We were all watching him and luckily, since his behavior was so eratic, we all began laughing. This helped my roommates and I cover up any nervousness that we were feeling.

The funny thing was that Ken was still on the fence as to whether or not he was going nuts, had a foggy memory or was still drunk when he parked the car. His roommates were laughing at him and telling him that he was losing his mind and that since he found the car, there was no issue. He kept at it and let us know that it took him 45 minutes to find the car this time. This brought out hysterical laughter amongst the group.

But, Ken finally fell in line and thought it may be possible. Now, you have to ask yourself, how messed up was Ken? Well, I can answer you in this way - you have to pick your marks carefully when it comes to a good prank and with Ken, we knew we had struck gold!

The 'long prank' continued to evolve. The actions taken by my roommates and I continued to escalate. Ken ended up reporting his car stolen twice over the course of the next 6 months. But, the car was always found outside a local 7-Eleven or a tavern in town. It was always funny to follow one of the roommates as we were making the drop.

Ken's mental health was slipping - his roommates were even starting to wonder about his well being. We slowed down the prank to once a week. Enough to keep him on edge.

So, you're asking yourself, how long did this go on? Well, the 'long', best prank ever went on for 9 months. We estimate that we moved his car over 40 times during this time period.

The best part came at the time of the reveal. It was at a party where everyone was attending. My roommates and I all decided to let Ken know at this event as it was neutral ground and we knew we could escape if he went crazy.

We all arrived at the party and had a lot of fun. As the night wore on and we knew Ken was getting his groove on, we decided to make our move. We were all seated at a table playing quarters - there were about 8 of us in all.

When the time came for Ken to bounce the quarter, each of my roommates and I took their car key out and placed it on the table. Slowly, each one of us slid their key in front of Ken. All 3 keys rested right in front of the glass he was getting ready to bounce his quarter in.

Ken paused for a moment as he had watched us do this. He sat there for more than a minute, his mind definitely not on the quarter any longer. Slowly, we all watched as it sunk in and he began to realize what we had just done.

His face started to get flush and his fist clenched. Ken slammed his hands on the table and this got the attention of everyone at the party. He began to now run his hands through his hair and the screaming commenced. "You mother f'ers!", "No f'ing way, No f'ing way!" - these were some of the nicest things said.

For the other people in the party, the story was spreading fast and laughter was piping up from all around. Ken, who was definitely NOT finding it funny, was getting more agitated. Knowing how tense of a situation this was, his roommates moved in to calm him down - even as they were laughing.

It was tense for a good 30 minutes, but my roommates and I hung in there as we weren't going to miss a moment of this. We watched as Ken went through a number of emotional states, eventually ending up in a complacent state where he realized he had been HAD.

As he finally gained his composure, he came back to the table and simply asked, "Why?" Everyone started laughing hysterically. It took a few minutes for everyone to calm down, but you could see the strain in Ken's eyes.

"Why Ken?", my roommate asked. "Why? Well, Ken, you remember when you crashed at our place after the party a while back? Well, you woke up in the middle of the night and took a leak all over my clothes." Laughter erupted around the table. Ken even smirked a bit when he heard what he had done.

When the laughter subsided and we all quieted down, it was Ken who spoke up. What did he say?

"Guys - well played. Best GD prank I've ever seen, heard of, and hope to have played on me in my lifetime."

Ken thought so, I think so and I hope you did too after reading this.

Cheers!

The difference is 3 - 6 beers depending on the night and who the person is who is attempting to be trampy and/or fun.

Simple as that.

Next question.

First off, let me get something straight. You, a complete stranger and somebody who has apparently wrestled control of Plinky.com away from the Shellen clan are now asking me to disclose highly confidential and potentially embarassing information to you. And, for what? To what end I ask you?

You see, the details of my life are quite inconsequential.... Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a 15-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize; he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes, he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament... My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon... luge lessons... In the spring, we'd make meat helmets... When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds — pretty standard, really. At the age of 12, I received my first scribe. At the age of 14, a Zoroastrian named Vilmer ritualistically shaved my testicles — there really is nothing like a shorn scrotum — it's breathtaking... I suggest you try it.

Ok, I borrowed that phrase, but with good reason. One, its a classic and everyone MUST find humor in it. Two, its to make a point that I could type literally about anything here and one would have to assume that I was being truthful. Now, to be fair, I have been truthful in all of my past Plinky prompts. But, we hardly know each other (for reals) and I'm not sure I'm ready to dig up these memories for such a public display.

I'll have to give it some thought . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ok, here it goes: It was terrible, ackward, with a girl name Sue and she didn't know what to do and the next day I was embarassed when I came to school the next day. But, my teacher - Mrs. Jones - saw how uncomfortable I was and offered some advice. She said, "Listen Jeff, I know that 1st grade can be a bit overhwelming at times and that you away from home, but I promise it gets better". She didn't address the actual situation and actually didn't help at all, but she was right about one thing. It all gets better with time :)

Cheers for now - Plinky OUT!

OK, let me be clear - St. Helen is not worthy. It is not worthy at all - I chose this place as somebody needs to call this place out. When I was a child growing up, my grandparents had a cottage here and it was very small town with all sorts of interesting things going on.

So, my song - hmmm - let's go with rap for these lyrics

Oh my, this place is gonna rock
If St. Helen was on the NYSE, I'd sell all my stock
Growing up as a boy, I'd visit from time to time
Thank god I didn't get a disease called lime

4 out 5 girls in high school had a baby bump
Most of the town looked like a dump
Trailer park, swamp and a guy named Bob
Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be a snob

Hunting, fishing and drinking some beer
I always shuddered when the weekends were near
Up to St. Helen to hang with all of the local peeps
All the while, I would hold back the weeps

See, there is something wrong about missing teeth
It doesn't look good and the breath really reaks
So, do yourself a favor and stay away
And, hopefully it won't be there some day

Oh yeah, this place is gonna rock
Gotta call my broker to sell my St. Helen stock

I'm out, y'all - peace. Plinky be with you!

Yes, Yes, Yes, Ok - I have bought 'some' items that have been featured on its own informercial.

Before I get into specifics, please let me adjust my Snuggie. Ok, just kidding, I don't own a Snuggie. I don't honestly know anybody that does, but I'm sure my mother in law would love it.

Ok, as for me, lets tick off the ones the items that I have purchased:
-ShamWow - yep, bought it - couldn't resist a guy in such a simplistic setting with an official phone headset on. That, and the fact that my daughter had jumped dumped a full container of juice on our carpet.
Rating (1 to 10/10 being the best): 6 - good for spills, terrible for drying off the car.

-Shark vaccuum - yep, couldn't resist. I mean, come on, this thing was made for our house with the child, pets and messy wife. I even bought an extra battery as we were using it so much.
Rating: 9 - the thing picks up about anything.

-Simoniz Fix It Car Wax Polish Kit. This one just plain intriguied the heck out of me. And, I have successfully used it several times without issue. It does eat up batteries and takes more elbow grease than advertised.
Rating: 7

And, the GRAND PRIZE WINNER of all informercial buys:
-Oxiclean. This was an absolute must have as I apparently have a hole in my chin and drip all sorts of things on to my shirts. No, not really, but hey, I had to try this. It was ok - I prefer Zout for stains if you must know.
Rating: 5

Well, that all I am currently going to admit to during this short time I have wiht Plinky today. Thanks for tuning in.

'This one goes to Eleven' - If you've not see the movie and since it was made in 1984, I imagine many have not, this is a tough line to explain.

Rob Reiner, Christopher Guest and a genius script make this one of the best scenes in a 'mockumentary' about a rock band.

Youtube it, the gum chewing, the absolutely unbelievable delivery of this line make it a classic.

Bailout shmailout! What this country needs is... an Economy reality show. I'm thinking something catchy, like Economy Idol.

Yep, that is exactly what we need. I say this with more than a bit of sarcasm, but given that more people seem to tune into American Idol (guilty), Dancing with the Stars, Survivor, etc. than actually appear to be paying attention to the economy, this seems fairly logical.

We could have a host - a British host. Heck, this would even add intrigue as its an American economic problem, but somehow a Brit will have a major say in who did well and who didn't. NO blowhards like Trump. Heck, maybe even bring in Richard Branson - he's a genius.

However, the twist (there HAS to be a twist people) is that everyone with an idea as to how to stimulate the country HAS to play. So, even our current government would have to send a representative to present to the American people.

Each person/organization would have a total of 5 minutes to present - any longer and people lose interest (great news for our country by the way). At the end of each presentation, the judges would give their honest feedback. Then, the phone lines would open and people (and auto dialers/please there's always some cheating) would place their votes.

We'd start with 30 finalists and eventually scale it down to the final 3 Economy Idol contestants. Then, in a 2 night/2 hour finale, each contestant would put together a 30 minute full length presentation and take Q & A's from regular people. Regular people because the so called 'experts' and financial people got us in this mess in the first place. (Ok, not all, but its not like I had anything to do with it).

The votes would be counted and the Economy Idol winner would be crowned.

The new Economy Idol would then go on tour discussing his plans with corporate titans, dignitaries and economists as to how best implement this exciting, new, American-people backed plan.

And, when the tour wrapped up, the Economy Idol would slip and fall in a tragic bathtub accident and the current economists/government would continue down this wonderful path we all find ourselves on today.

The End (hopefully not!)

I have a scar that revolves around my right index finger. It is a resut of a glass breaking while washing the dishes one day in college. The scar is not the story though, it is what happened afterward that makes it a good story.

So, it's winter in Kalamazoo, MI. Cold outside. I just got home to a 'supposedly' empty house that I shared with 4 other guys. We had a schedule and it was my turn to wash the dishes. So, upon getting home, I just chose to get it over with instead of the typical delaying until somebody yelled at me (hey, it was college, give me a break).

Towards the end, I was washing out a glass when it shattered and the edge of the glass sliced into my finger. The cut was quite deep (to the bone) and revolved around the finger with the end result being that it was hanging more than it was attached.

I didn't panic as I was raised in a medical family and blood doesn't have any affect on me (remember this for a bit later), so I grabbed a pot and filled it with cold water while trying to get a handle on the bleeding.

Meanwhile, I had turned on the stereo and it was quite loud. So, my yelling didn't do much in terms of attracting any attention. Plus, I thought the house was empty. But, I had to do something, so I kept the pot filled halfway with water, left my hand it in and ventured over to the fridge where I grabbed a lot of ice to slow the bleeding.

At this point, I thought I'd take a chance to see if any of my roommates were home before I called 911 as I didn't want to do that - at least not yet. I ventured up the stairs to the 2nd floor where two of my roommates lived. One of the rooms was open and vacant and the door was closed to the other room. I was holding the pot with one hand while I kept the other hand immersed in the water. The water, as you can imagine, was dark red as so much blood was escaping.

I kicked the door with my feet to see if anyone was there. I didn't hear anything at first, but then I heard a muffled voice. This was the room of a guy who was an amatuer body builder and he tended to bring home some unique women at times. I heard a definite voice a moment later and yelled that I needed help as I was bleeding.

I heard some shuffling and then the door flew open only to reveal my roommate naked, with a strategically placed towel and a 'stranger' in his bed. He started to ask what was wrong just as his eyes hit the pot that I was holding. It was right at this point that I learned that my roommate didn't like the site of blood and, in this case, fainted when presented with it. So, this bulk of an individual proceeded to collapse to the floor without so much as a whimper. This left me in my original predicament.

However, in all of the fuss, I have forgotten about the 'stranger' who was still laying in the bed, covered by a sheet and now staring at me. Well, she obviously was going to have none of it as she stood up completely naked and announced that I needed to go to the hospital. I stood there staring (with good reason) as she hurriedly dressed, grabbed her things and then hustled me down the stairs towards the door.

Now, we get to an interesting point as she had caught a ride with my roommate. This left us with two cars at the house - mine and his. Mine was a stick shift and my new found friend, the 'stranger', couldn't drive a stick. So, taking action, she shot upstairs, grabbed his car keys and we left in my roommate's car while he still lay on the ground upstairs.

The story does not end here.

She drove me to the local hospital where I assumed that I would just get out and she would return to the house. But, that was not to be - she announced that she was going to drop me off and then join me inside the emergency room. I didn't really care at this point as the pot was getting more and more full of my blood and I was getting a bit dizzy.

I ventured in to the hospital, went through triage and was asked to sit for a moment while I waited to be taken back to an area where they could treat me. The 'stranger' joined me a moment later and asked for an update. Soon afterwards, I was asked to come in the back. I stood and began walking towards the treatment area and noticed that I had a shadow, the 'stranger'. By the way, I still didn't know her name at this point.

I was asked by the hospital attendant if she was with me and I nodded yes as I really didn't care to explain. We were ushered into an area and the pot was taken away to be dumped and appropriate bandaging was put in place to help stop the bleeding. All the while, the 'stranger' just kept sitting there and watching the process.

The doctor arrived moments later and began evaluating the cut and the resulting damage. In order to do so, he had to have an assistant hold my hand and he had to pull up the skin to look internally. While he was doing this, the 'stranger' appeared in my line of sight as she was now squatted behind the doctor and staring into the wound that he was trying to get a handle on.

At this point, the doctor noticed her and asked me in an offhand way if we were boyfriend/girlfriend. To which I answered that we were not and that I didn't even know her name. This caught him by surprise and his turned to address her to see what the situation was. The 'stranger' having heard this conversation, promptly introduced herself as Ellen (name changed to protect the innocent, yet strange) and extended her hand to greet him. The doctor turned back to me and I just shrugged as I wanted to have my finger sewn back on and didn't care who Ellen was at this point.

As the evaluation continued, our new found friend Ellen started asking questions about the damage, the treatment, etc. At one point, she asked if the doctor could pull up the skin on my hand so that she could see underneath. Wow, my head was really spinning at this point, but I even knew that this was getting really weird.

The finger was eventually sewn up and I was given ample amounts of pain killers to go along wth my newly wrapped hand. It was time to leave and I was extremely foggy.

Ellen now guided me to the car and promptly took me home. Upon returning to the house, we found my previously passed out roommate sititng on the couch watching television. As we entered, he was visibly upset as we had left him on the ground and that Ellen had stolen his car for all intensive purposes. After a few minutes and realizing how hurt I was, he calmed down.

But, we found ourselves sitting with Ellen. A girl who by now had creeped me out more than a little even though she had helped me out in a tremendous jam. And, a girl that my roommate never intended to know more than the afternoon. We were both uncomfortable. But, Ellen was not and kept talking about the experience.

Soon afterwards, I passed out from the painkillers given to me. My roommate took Ellen to wherever she lived. And, we never saw her again.

So, I have a unique scar on my right hand. But the scar will never measure up to the story that accompanies it. It is a story that I have told literally a hundred times and I always smile when I think back to the whole situation.

Thanks Plinky - that was a story worth telling.

Alright, this was a terrible experience. When we were growing up, my sister and I visited with our father on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Saturday was spent with the family, but Wednesday night was movie night.

I was in high school and my sister was in junior high.

One Wednesday night, we were late for the movie we wanted to see and instead of going home and doing something else, my dad suggested we go see Threesome as it was starting in 10 minutes.

If you've not seen it, it is fairly self explanatory - college, friends, curiousity and, ultimately, BAMM - threesome.

Sure, everyone that you know always says, 'Ohh, that would be so cool'. But, to each of them I say, try sitting next to your father in a theatre watching it all go down and not feel mortified.

And, don't even get me started on how my sister took it - she was in shock for weeks . . .

Wallet
Although its completely empty, it gives me a sense of comfort knowing that I can open it up and shows some plastic. Sure, its not usable, but hey, they don't know that :)

Keys
The strange thing about life is that we typically need keys to do anything. Want to drive, use a key. Want to get back into your house, use a key. Get into your office, use a key. Sure, it would be easier to have a PIN # for everything, but then I'd keep forgetting it and somebody could look over my shoulder and take it all!

Lint
A crucial part of my pocket is that lint that I have collected. I keep it to remind me that . . . well, I don't have a real reason. But, I keep a blog about it, called Jeff's Adventures in Lint Hunting - it's a hoot.

Spring Break - 1988. Ok - this 'seemed' like a good idea when we were planning the trip while we were in college.

The trip started out fun enough as we took a greyhound bus. I can remember it like it was yesterday - we were drinking, joking around - a whole bus full of people. It felt like we reached Texas in no time.

BUT, who knew that Texas was so big? We surely didn't as the partying picked up big time once we hit the border. About 10 - 12 hours later we were still traveling and the on board bathroom overflowed - I won't reveal what caused it to do this, but suffice to say that the bus reaked!!

In this state, the bus continued on with windows cracked for another couple hours in heavy spring break traffic. We finally arrived and while we should have been excited, we were not. But, to be sure, it was a short lived moment and we went on our way and lived it up for 6 days.

Then, we HAD TO RETURN via the same bus!!! 37 hours to get back. I won't say anything nice, but everyone returned without injury and long lasting mental injuries.

Nutter Butters!!!! Ok - this is quite possibly the best 'stress' snack - ok, call it a food, to eat. Ok, my opinion, but tell me that you can eat only one - NEVER :)

I don't know if I'd qualify this as advice or just basic common sense. But, I must credit my step-father with the sagely advice, "Don't F**K up".

Now, while it may seem harsh, you have to realize how he presented this to me.

I had just graduated from college and he knew that I was one to take some risks and take chances. He, at the time, was a superior at the Detroit County Jail - a place where they house some of the worst of the worst.

To paint a picture, the jail is several floors high and there is a central platform where the deputies could walk out and address the prisoners.

Well, he took me to the jail very late one night after we had a late dinner and escorted me out to the central platform. The majority of the inmates were asleep, but after some encouragement from my step-father, they woke up and took notice of my presence alongside him. It didn't take long for the yelling, hooting and threats to start - just because I was there.

As I stood there, staring with a sense of fear creeping up my back, I heard these words, "Hello everyone! This is my my step-son. If you ever see him in here, please feel free to do what you want to him." What did he just say? What?

He turned to me, laid his hand on my shoulder and simply said, "Don't F**K up". And, with that, he walked away and left me there to simply look around and take it all in. I became sick to my stomach and quickly walked off the central platform to catch up to him.

Well, its 20 years later and I can safely say that I took his advice to heart and never have seen the inside of a jail, holding cell, or detainment facility of any kind.

So, pass it on - its simple advice and I'm not sure you have to have been there to truly understand the implications of your actions. Just live vicariously through me on this one - trust me!

First off, its my favorite movie of all time. It's got music, comedy, candy and makes you feel like a kid when you watch it.

And, when you're sick, your body needs some TLC just like when you were young.

So, I say, step back in time a bit, feel young, laugh and enjoy this movie - it will at least make you feel better while you recuperate

When the movie came out, I happened to look just like Cameron. Several times, people stopped me to ask me if I was him. While it was a benefit a times :), it always made me laugh.

I could stay interested beyond the first few chapters. Maybe one day I'll finish it.

I chose this spot as it is amazing just to view it from the ground. In most places, it is so vast and colorful that you begin to wonder whether or not it is real.

By flying into it, I would be able to see the sheer size and scope of the walls and the drop into the central basin.

And, on the way, we'd fly through Sedona to see the red rocks nice and close up :)