George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Instead of searching for buried treasure, he downloaded the Amazon app on his phone and chased the Amazon Treasure Truck around the country.
He caught up to it outside of Birmingham, Alabama.
“Stand and deliver!” shouted George.
A company representative got out of the truck and asked George if he wanted standard delivery or if he was an Amazon Prime member.
“I’m a damn pirate,” growled George. “Give me everything.”
George ended up with 1,000 fidget spinners.
He tossed them in a dumpster and went back to his ship.
George and the road to
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
After Bing Crosby and Bob Hope made The Road To Hong Kong, their writers put together a script for The Road To The High Seas.
The studio hired George as a consultant.
“For my vast experience in sea warfare and buccaneering?” asked George.
“No, for your clumsy bumbling antics,” said the studio. “This is a comedy, not a drama.”
Bing was nice, but was consistently drunk.
Bob couldn’t function without a dozen cue cards in every direction.
George gave up, and the picture sank like many of George’s ships.
George tosses pizzas
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When it was his turn to man the galley, he insisted on making hand-tossed pizzas.
The problem was, when he tossed the pizza in the air, it would hit the ceiling and stick.
“Why don’t you roll out the dough?” asked the captain.
“Roll the dough?” said George. “This is the authentic way of making it!”
So, the captain let George toss the pizzas while out on the main deck.
The wind caught the dough and blew it overboard.
The hungry crew tossed George over the rail after it.
The hangup
Every time someone texts or calls me about the election, I tell them that I already voted and I hang up.
When they ask me who I voted for, I tell them “The other person.” And hang up.
Then they call to ask me questions for a survey. I say “I don’t like to be called for surveys.” Before I hang up.
My mailbox is filled with colorful ads. I throw them in the trash.
People knock on my door and ask me questions. I throw them in the trash, too.
They call to complain. I hang up on them.
Nancy 2.0
I think back to my days at the TV station.
There were a lot of people who said “This is the way we always do things.”
The general manager had an elderly secretary.
She had a lot of things to do for him, and I ended up having to do them for her.
Mail merges, contract templates, and other things.
I scanned every address in, merged them to letters and envelopes.
I got sick of doing her job for her, so I quit.
Because that’s the way they always did things.
Drive the new guy mad, and drive him away
Stop standing
If you stand in front of a mirror and tell yourself that you’re a good person, that does not make you a good person.
Instead, go out and be a good person to be a good person.
Then, after you’re done being a good person, stand in front of that mirror and tell yourself that you’re a good person.
The best way to stop standing in front of that mirror is to not own a mirror big enough to stand in front of.
Or to go skiing and break your legs so you stop standing in front of that mirror.
Weekly Challenge #853: Evidence
LISA
Reasonable Grounds
Julian thought he was clever and had destroyed all the evidence in the taxi but the one thing he couldn’t hide was the glint of delight in his eye. His wife, Sally, had waited up for him and although she hadn’t seen that glint for a while, recognised it instantly.
So there were no secrets as the couple got into bed but Julian didn’t know that as he slipped into his contented slumber. Sally stared at the stranger she’d been married to for twenty years before deciding she wouldn’t divorce him. Then slowly pressed her pillow over his sleeping head.
LIZZIE
“No evidence,” repeated the impatient historian.
“But Professor…”
The historian stormed out.
Stubborn fuckers, he thought.
So, he went back to Japan to check the temple again.
“Doubting me… Unacceptable.”
After weeks of research, he found the small button in a dark corner.
Click. A whole new room opened up.
“Damn, they were right,” he whispered.
The historian quickly closed the secret room and pulled a chest over to hide the stupid button.
The next day, the button and his stubbornness were all over the news.
“They followed me…”
And this is how arrogance is the beginning of your downfall.
RICHARD
Evidence?
Maybe those ancient astronaut theorists are right? After all, it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that our ancestors came from elsewhere.
The evidence, they say, in the books that they’ve written and the documentaries that are beamed into our living rooms is incontrovertible.
Ancient spaceships of the gods, or simply the remains of past civilisations?
Strange markings in the desert… Pre-historic runways, or perhaps the tracks of celestial vehicles? Who can really tell?
They’re certainly intriguing, but I’m not convinced.
The Moon has always been humanity’s home.
The very thought we may have come from elsewhere, is simply preposterous!
ZACKMANN
I miss Saturday morning cartoons and do feel one of the things that led to their demise is restrictions on advertisements for sugar coated sugar filled breakfast cereals.
It could be time to add monsters who eat healthier cereals to the likes of Count Chocula, Boo Berry, and Franken Berry.
The first new Saturday cartoon could be about a Corporate Knight, possibly named Bran Stoker using his guide the ChexCrowNommicon to find evidence of the new creatures.
Once I think of names to go with unsweetened shredded wheat and raisinless bran flakes I can send my pitch to General Mills.
SERENDIPIDY
It’s a well-established principle in law that, without a body, you’re going to have a hell of a job proving a murder.
In fact, without a body, lacking any other incriminating evidence, proving that any crime has taken place is going to be difficult.
After all, people go missing all the time.
It doesn’t have to be abduction, torture and murder, just because they aren’t anywhere to be found.
Although, in this case, it was.
But, that’s not a confession, just a statement of fact.
As for the body?
Well, I can neither confirm, nor deny, it was delicious!
TURA
P(A|B) = P(B|A) P(A) / P(B)
———
Now STUDENT was perplex’d, and asked GOODWILL, “How may I know the road to the Castle of Truth? For these philosophers wander in circles unending.”
Then GOODWILL answer’d, “Dost thou see this narrow way? It was cast up by Bayes and His apostles Jeffreys and Jaynes; and it is as straight as a rule can make it: this is the way that thou must go. Now FREQUENTIST hath said to thee, that there are many roads to that Castle; but one only proceedeth steadfastly toward it, though in his obstinacy he refus’d it, and that is the Way of Bayes.”
———-
A guide for the perplex’d can be found at https://arbital.com/p/bayes_rule/.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert closed his eyes and sighed. “Now you’re hurting my head. You’re just talking in circles. You say that magic doesn’t need to be learned or performed, but we still need to make contact to activate our magic each day. What evidence do you have that you even have magic?”
Sabrina looked up at the clear blue sky. When Billbert started to speak, she held up her hand. “Wait for it.”
First one raindrop landed on his hand, then another on his face, then a light rain shower sprinkled the two. A single black rain cloud had formed above them.
PLANET Z
My lawyer is on the aggressive side.
She logged the entire universe into evidence.
The whole damn universe.
The judge allowed it, and the bailiffs were stuck hauling the entire universe into the courtroom.
Police were tasked with bagging and tagging everything, cataloging it, and handing it to the bailiffs as my lawyer introduced every piece of the universe.
She explained how it fit into the case, and after five weeks, the judge declared a mistrial.
The state declined to retry me. I was let go.
“Next time you get a fucking parking ticket,” my lawyer said. “Don’t call me.”
The miracle cure
Years ago, the preacher just had a small booth at the market.
Now, he’s set up in a big building.
Lines up his bottles of miracle cure on the table.
And the guards open the doors.
The people come from all around.
Each putting their donations in the bags before entering the hall.
They watch as he blesses the bottles, prays with them, and all shout AMEN.
Drinking it, rubbing it on their bodies.
Putting the bottles in recycling crates.
At the end of the day, he returns home.
Refills the bottles from his sink.
And goes to sleep, happy.
A man of too many seasons
Dan just started his tenth season in the league.
Ten years is a long time.
Lots of players get injured or killed long before then.
Make it to ten years, and you get you an X on your right sleeve.
There’s a whole ceremony around it.
With the team outfitter sewing the X on your sleeve.
It goes over the V that you got for your fifth year in the league.
Nobody’s gone fifteen years in the league.
After your fourteenth years, you go in the Hall of Fame.
Literally.
Mummified, sealed in a coffin, under a shiny bronze plaque.
Say goodbye to Roger Ebert
I bought a ticket for a movie this afternoon.
And I’ll use my long-dusty loyalty points for a free small popcorn and small drink.
I’m done with the LARGE and HUGE and FREE DIABETES SCREENING AT THE HOSPITAL NEXT DOOR sizes.
I wonder if can sit through a two hour movie without having to go to the bathroom during it.
If I can’t, then this will be the last ticket I’ll buy to a movie.
Goodbye, overpriced drinks.
Goodbye, sticky floors.
Goodbye, overpriced oily popcorn.
Goodbye, expensive parking.
Goodbye, obnoxious children in the audiences of R movies.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.