Everybody at the office wears red socks on Thursday.
It’s not policy, and nobody tells anybody to do it.
We just do it.
I have no idea how it started, but every Thursday, everybody at the office wears red socks.
So, when Jake showed up with green socks, everybody was freaked out.
“What are you doing, Jake?”
“Where are your red socks?”
“Those socks are green!”
Jake pointed to the calendar…
It’s not Thursday.
It’s Wednesday.
We dragged him into the bathroom and beat the crap out of him anyway.
Not because of the socks. Because Jake’s been embezzling funds.
Category: My stories
Phone
I left my phone somewhere.
It’s not in the bathroom or conference room.
So, I borrowed another phone and ran the Find My Phone app.
Oh. Wait.
It’s in the back seat of the car I got a ride to the restaurant in.
I’ll see them at work on Monday.
This means I’ll be without my phone all weekend long. The longest I’ve been without it since… since…
Stop worrying. I’ll be fine without it. I can go a whole weekend… without… a… phone…
I’ll just go and get a new one right now.
Eh, I needed an upgrade anyway.
Squatters
BB Wolf wasn’t like other wolves.
He was a farmer. His primary crops were corn and soybeans, he also raised cucumbers, basil, and other things.
One day, he went out to his fields and saw three houses:
A house of straw.
A house of wood.
And a house of bricks.
“Goddamned squatters,” he mumbled.
Not only had they tapped his electrical line, but when he checked his router, they were stealing his WiFi, too.
Instead of confronting them directly, he called the sheriff.
Three squealing pigs were dragged off to jail.
The Wolf used the brick house as a shed.
In Heels
She hates driving in heels.
“Try my shoes,” I say.
So, we swapped feet.
“Much better,” she says.
She hates how the seatbelt feels on her lap in that skirt.
“You’re not on your period, are you?” I ask.
She says no.
So, we swap a bit more.
And even more when she complains about the shoulder strap across her tits.
We get to the restaurant, but never make it inside.
“Take off my panties,” she says, undoing my belt.
We fuck, and it really hurts.
Ten minutes without her pussy, and she forgets to let it get wet first.
Facelessbook
Okay, so there’s this one woman in the news who got attacked by her pet chimpanzee.
By the time the cops arrived and got the chimp off of her, it had torn off her face and eaten it.
Somehow, she survived, but without a face, her Facebook account was terminated.
“It’s called Facebook for a reason,” said Mark Zuckerberg. “You have to have a face.”
So, she signed up for face transplant surgery, and surgeons gave her a donated face.
“Okay, it’s ugly, but you can use Facebook,” said Zuckerberg.
But after hundreds of bullying wall posts, she quit again.
The Unholy Grail
Okay, so you know about King Arthur and The Holy Grail, right?
It was the vessel from which Christ drank, and any who drink from it are healed of all disease and illness.
Well, I know about the Unholy Grail, from which those who drink are poisoned and suffer greatly.
Still, no matter how many times you warn the guys, the moment she spreads her legs, they all come with their tongues waggling and licking.
Then, they come crawling to me, begging for a sip from the Holy Grail.
“It’s in the dishwasher,” I say, and I slam the door.
Pick Up Artist
People ask me all the time how to pick up girls, and I tell them that you should lift from the legs and not the back.
Unless they’re so big, you need a forklift. But you don’t want to pick up those porkers, right?
Any you can pick up with tweezers are going to be a real cheap date because they don’t eat nothin.
Some, you can pick up with a radio. Those are probably way out of your league. Especially the ones on Howard Stern.
And if you can pick em up on a Geiger Counter, run like hell!
Walk out
When she threatened to walk out the door, I told her that she could never come back through it.
She walked out anyway. So, I programmed the front door to not let her in.
However, I forgot to program the back door.
“Nyah nyah!” she shouted from the kitchen.
I kicked her out and then programmed the back door to not let her in.
“Miss me?” she sung, crawling through an open window.
I pushed her back out, and locked the windows.
At the first rustle from the chimney, I heaped up logs and lit a match.
Burn, bitch! Burn!
The Preacher
The imam wore a suit and an immaculately-sculpted beard, and he spoke perfect English as he answered the interviewer’s questions…
At first, he said that terrorism is not allowed under Islam.
But a minute later, he was saying that the captured men should be allowed Korans and have access to imams so as not to violate their right to practice Islam.
Point after point, he contradicted himself, smiling his “Fuck you, America” smile wider and wider.
“They are not terrorists.”
It was then that a robotic camera rammed into the imam, breaking his jaw.
“Software glitch,” said the camera operator.
Angels Union
The Angels Union Hall was filled to the rafters with angry Heavenly Hosts.
Despite famines, floods, and wars, the humans multiplied rapidly.
“And yet, God hasn’t created more of us to handle the workload,” growled Gabriel.
“Lucifer’s hiring devils and demons,” said Moroni. “Why can’t God hire more angels?”
“What about saints?” asked Michael. “They help, right?”
The boos shook the stained glass windows.
“Ass kisser!” shouted Gabriel.
Eventually, the angels voted to strike.
Some scabs continued to cross the lines. Moroni and Gabriel whispered into the ears of false prophets.
God didn’t give a shit. “Let ’em worship cats.”