The night Max wore his wolf suit
And made mischief of one kind or another
His mother called him WILD THING!
And Max said “I’ll eat you up!”
While sending Max to his room
His mother had a stroke and collapsed
Max stood there, confused
He tried to wake up his mother
But she didn’t move at all
So, Max picked up the telephone
And called the emergency number.
They arrived a few minutes later
Put his mother on a stretcher
Covered her with a sheet
And took her away.
Child Services picked up Max
He never wore costumes again
Tag: sick
The Gift Bear
I went to the Build-a-Bear store in the mall.
Where you pick out an empty teddy bear
Or panda
Or kitty
Then you pick out clothes for it:
A baseball uniform
Ballet slippers. And a tutu
A wedding dress
You can record a message, too.
I like crazy messages:
“Help, I’m trapped in a bear factory!”
“I’m filled with heroin.”
At a red light, I squeeze it’s paw.
“I love you,” it says.
I feel the bruise on my face.
I remember you hitting me.
Again. And again.
Love you? The craziest message of all.
I throw the bear away.
Bashed Brains
Pro Football player Junior Seau killed himself today. He’d been having awful problems as a result of all the concussions he’d suffered by playing football for so many years.
Last year, Dave Duerson from the Superbowl-winning Chicago Bears put a bullet in his gut.
It’s a problem many players have been experiencing, and they want to raise awareness of the dangers of concussions, but some just can’t take the pain and the suffering, so they kill themselves.
It’s sad, but then when you bash yourself against other huge guys for twenty to thirty years, what the fuck do you expect?
The Voices In Sally’s Head
Sally hears voices in her head.
But instead of telling her to go wild, set fires and kill people, they tell her to go straight home and clean her room.
They even help her with her Chemistry homework.
“Boyle’s Law is pressure times volume equals a constant,” says a voice. “It’s Charles’ Law that involves temperature.”
Sally smiles, puts down the Chemistry book, and moves over to Physics.
Oh, sure… eventually they told her to burn down the school and kill her classmates.
Then they told her to go home and clean her room.
The cops didn’t find any evidence.
Blood Money Hostage
The kidnapper wanted to send a unique ransom note, so he sliced the message into the stomach of his hostage and pressed a sheet of paper against it.
He pulled the sheet off and…
Damn it. The words were backwards.
So, he flipped her over, and tried again on her back.
He still got a few letters reversed.
The third time, he tried to use her ass, but she was thrashing around a lot, making it hard to get a clean transfer.
Dipping a quill in the blood, he wrote the note by hand.
And she bled to death.
Oops.
Z Pack
The doctor called it a Z Pack.
Two antibiotic pills the first day, and then a pill for each of the next four days.
The first day, my sinuses cleared up, and my cough eased.
The second day, I was hearing strange bubbling and squishing noises from my guts.
The third day was spent on the toilet, expelling my gastrointestinal tract’s contents and its helpful bacterial flora.
The fourth day, I could have swallowed golf balls and launched them further than Jack Nicklaus at a driving range.
The rest, I don’t want to remember.
Pass the antibacterial hand wipes, please.
That’s Absurd
What if maple trees used our blood to make a syrup for their pancakes?
That’s absurd. Maple trees don’t eat pancakes.
What if pigs used our skin to make a ball to play games with?
That’s absurd. Pigs don’t play football.
What if elephants used our teeth to make billiard balls.
That’s absurd. Elephants don’t play pool.
Or so I thought.
I watched the elephant chalk his cue and run the table on a young punk.
The kid put down another hundred. And lost it just as quickly.
The elephant pointed his cue at me.
“No thanks, shark,” I said.
Day
Jimmy’s a really annoying guy.
How annoying?
Well, he calls Thanksgiving “Turkey Day.”
And calls birthdays “Cake Days.”
And Easter ends up “Bunny Day.”
“Shouldn’t that be Candy Day or Basket Day?” I ask him.
“No, because people confuse that with Halloween.”
Which he doesn’t call “Candy Day” or “Basket Day.”
He calls Halloween “Pumpkin Day.”
When his mother died, I asked him if he called it “Casket Day.”
He looked me in absolute horror. “Oh my God no! How could you say such a thing?”
“I’m sorry for being so insensitive,” I said. “I guess you had her cremated.”
Dr. Quack
Of all the doctors I’ve had over the years, the best one was named Quack.
Yes, his name was Quack. And he was great!
When I had an ache in my foot, he cured me of it.
Okay, so he cured me by cutting off my foot, and I admit that was a bit extreme, but it hasn’t hurt since.
The ringing in my ear… solved!
The arthritis in my hand… solved!
The migraines…
Well, those, I’ve still got. I made an appointment with him, but his office was empty.
Except for his guillotine.
Mind pulling the cord for me?
Register
After my wife’s death, I was cleaning the kitchen cabinets in my Chicago apartment, I came across a small container of bouillon cubes.
The label said they were 18 years old.
This means they’re old enough to get a driver’s license, even though they probably wouldn’t pass the driving or vision tests.
And, being eighteen, they could also serve in the military, but I don’t think the military is openly recruiting potentially toxic substances.
But they could register to vote, as long as they register as a Democrat.
Right after they register my dead wife to vote, too.
Ah, Chicago.