Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?
I thought I’d solve that problem when I developed MindWipe.
Neurotransmitter blockers combined with targeted quantum spin alteration treatments to eliminate specific memories.
It wasn’t hard to formulate champagne with the blockers, but how do you convince someone to lay still in a quantum spin generator?
That’s when I came up with the relay.
We shaped it like a sparkly tiara, and I made the whole ballroom a quantum spin generator.
When the clock struck twelve, I threw the switch.
Oh, poor Dick Clark.
We’ll say it was a stroke.
Tag: commentary
Bambi The Commie
After every school massacre, the liberals blame the NRA and demand gun control.
And I polish up all the weapons in my basement and wait for the government to try to come and get them.
Yeah, I tell people that I use guns to hunt, but who the hell needs to vaporize Bambi with an automatic assault rifle?
Me. Especially if Bambi’s working for the government and trying to take my guns away from me.
Maybe if his mother carried an assault rifle to defend herself, Bambi wouldn’t have ended up an orphan and going around with that stupid bunny.
The Sled
I grew up in a big family, and we didn’t have much.
All the kids had to share one sled. We carved our names into it.
Right over the curse.
That Winter, the year I had the broken leg, the other kids took turns going down the hill.
“Let’s all get on!” shouted Robbie.
I watched through the window as the sled veered out of control, and they ran straight into the old tire swing tree.
Broken necks, hypothermia, and frostbite got them all.
Except me. I was the last kid left.
My dad busted the sled up for firewood.
Contractor
The general watched the wall of his headquarters shake apart and collapse.
The contractor smiled and said “This will give us an opportunity to learn from our mistakes and rebuild better.”
He was the first to die.
A year later, investigators found the contractor criminally negligent, and they imposed a heavy fine on his company.
Which was already bankrupt and out of business.
The fine would have barely paid the cost of the investigation and prosecution. Or the burial and death benefits of the soldiers who died during the attack.
At least nobody survived. Medical costs would have been astronomical.
Candy Ass
We used to call Candace Winters “Candy Ass” back in grade school.
It wasn’t because she was any kind of weakling. She was huge and strong. The ultimate girl jock.
No, she got the name because every time she’d win anything, she sit on the loser’s face and shout “KISS MY ASS LIKE IT’S CANDY!”
The school didn’t stop her bullying because she filled the trophy case by the principal’s office.
Then, one day, the PA system announced:
“Candace Williams to the principal’s office.”
Everyone gasped.
It was just the school paper wanting to photograph her standing by her trophies.
The Storymaker
I swore an oath to write a story every day until the day I die.
The Devil overheard me, and he offered me his hand.
And we shook on the deal.
I kept up my daily writing for a few years, but after a while I ran out of ideas.
“A deal’s a deal,” I said, and I went to sleep, not expecting to wake up.
“Don’t give up,” said The Devil. And he gave me a plane ticket to Paris. “Think you can write there?”
I nodded, and The Devil smiled.
“Good. It’s much nicer than Hell. Trust me.”
The Vultures
A crazed gunman shot up a school in a small suburb, killing and wounding dozens.
The media swarmed, descending on the town like locusts. They refrained from trying to interview the families of the victims, but they harassed everybody else, and it came to a head at the city council meeting.
“We’ve suffered enough,” said the city manager. And he threw a punch at a cameraman at the meeting.
Pretty soon, an angry mob had formed, chasing the media vultures back to their hotel.
“We’ll say it was a gas leak,” said the Fire Chief, and he lit a match.
Oh By The Way
My least favorite words are: “Oh, by the way.”
Whenever someone says that, it means they forgot to tell me something important, and they’re about to make it my fault for not knowing about it.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” is not the proper response to an “Oh, by the way.”
Instead, you should say “I’d like you to put your oversight in writing so that I can hold you legally responsible for any consequences that result from your failure to keep me informed.”
They never do.
This is why I record everything…
Oh, by the way, I’m recording this.
Outlaws
After every handgun massacre, there are calls to outlaw guns. And there are the counter-responses that if you outlaw guns, only outlaws will have guns.
The debate rages for a while, people get outraged over other things, and nothing gets accomplished.
So, I decided to break the cycle by outlawing signs that say I AM AN OUTLAW.
And sure enough, once those signs were outlawed, only outlaws had those signs.
Which made them really easy to to identify.
We rounded them up and killed them.
Sure, there were a few jokers and free-speech wackos with the signs.
Fuck those idiots.
French Crime
Most professors get letters from former students thanking them for something they taught them.
Yeah, I get letters from my former students, too. But they all come from prisons and mental institutions.
And they curse me for turning them to a life of crime, madness, and suffering.
Look here, man: I teach Introductory French.
How exactly does Introductory French cause people to turn out so badly?
None of the students ever explain how I’m to blame for their predicament. They just blame me for their woes. And curse me.
The least they could do is write their letters in French.