Funerals

A good friend of mine died last week.
Their relatives were contacted, flights booked, the funeral was set for 11 tomorrow.
Last night, my best friend died.
They were on their own for many years, mostly kept to themselves.
Except for me.
They wanted to be buried as quickly as possible, so the funeral home set them for 11 tomorrow, too.
On the other side of town.
Damn! Which do I go to?
I take a quarter out and flip it.
Heads.
And… I use it in a pay phone to make a bomb threat at one of the funerals.

Song Fight

During the American Revolution, to symbolize the casting off of British rule, the lyrics were stripped from the song “God Save The King” and changed to “My Country Tis Of Thee.”
Canadians, being a part of the British Commonwealth, still sing the original version.
This makes for some interesting situations at karaoke bars on the border.
Put enough drinks in the crowd, fire up the tune, and you’ll get both sides trying to shout each other down.
Sometimes, a fight breaks out. People get hurt, glasses and chairs and tables get broken.
And the Mexican laborers sweep up the damage.

Bloomberg

The elevator groaned under the weight of the morbidly obese passengers inside.
*BING*
The doors opened, and the mayor, pinned to the wall, squeezed his way out into the hallway.
He sighed, dashed out a quick note, and headed to the press room.
Dozens of fat reporters, tossing questions at him.
“SHUT UP!” he shouted. “SHUT THE HELL UP!”
Everyone went silent.
“AS OF NOW, NO MORE SUPER SIZED SUGAR BEVERAGES! SMALLER PORTION SIZES IN RESTAURANTS! WE’RE GONNA GET FUCKIN’ HEALTHY!”
The mayor’s decree took effect, and people just got fatter.
Because they order two of the smaller portions now.

The Fallen Rise Up

Veteran’s Day is for the living soldiers, and they march in parades.
Memorial Day is for the fallen ones, and we go to the cemeteries to put wreaths and flags on their graves.
This wasn’t enough for the witchdoctor, who poured a strange bubbling concoction into the fertilizer bin of the automatic sprinkler system at Arlington National Cemetery.
The timer went off at midnight, by the next morning, our nation’s finest and bravest were roaming the cemetery, shambling around and moaning “BRAAAAAAAAAAAAINS! BRAAAAAAAAAAAAINS!”
Except for Ted Kennedy’s corpse, who had commandeered a maintenance cart, and driven it into the Potomac.

Bloodmobile

The bloodmobile came by our office to collect blood.
“We’re running lower than normal this month,” said a volunteer.
Instead of laying down on the cots, we formed a mob and marched to the local blood bank.
“Oh crap!” shouted the staff there. “It’s a blood bank run!”
They barred the doors, took to the roof, and tried to drive us off by pelting us with bottles of orange juice and cookies.
But we’d come armed with trash can lids, and deflected the projectiles.
VROOM!
Oh no! I’d forgotten about the bloodmobile!
Bodies flew as it careened through our ranks.

Paint It

Long ago, comedian Steven Wright said “It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to paint it.” in his act.
It turns out he grabbed it from a comedian named Chic Murray
Whatever the source, I’m still confused: are they talking about painting the world with brushes and cans of paint? Because that could get expensive, especially if you need to buy primer, too.
Or perhaps paint it as in painting it on a canvas? Cheaper, certainly, but canvas and oils aren’t free.
This is what digital photography was invented to do.
Thank goodness for Google Maps and Street View.

Typo

After years of failed negotiations, the Iranians suddenly agreed to comprehensive inspections in exchange for the lifting of international sanctions on their battered economy.
Diplomats patted themselves on the back and praised each other… until the press got a hold of the documents.
“This says IKEA, not IAEA!” shouted the Secretary General Of The United Nations. “Who the fuck screwed this one up?”
Everybody stared at the Swedish representative.
“Hey, those IKEA guys are smart,” he said. “Just look what they can do with some wood and Allen wrenches.”
“They can make coffins,” said the Israeli representative, dialing Tel Aviv.

Drugs Tomorrow

The more we learn about how the brain works, the better the drugs we’re making.
I’m not talking about curing mental illness or anxiety or brain tumors. I’m talking about the fun stuff.
Acid trips that never go bad.
Highs higher than the highest high.
Maybe it’ll be with pills. Or needles.
I’m betting on the direct route, using magnetic spin.
Quantum-level manipulation with room-temperature superconductors.
Put your head in the scanner, put your head in the cloud.
No more growing.
No more chemistry labs.
No more dealers.
No more gang wars.
Just make sure the outlet’s grounded this time.

Tunnels

The Downtown Tunnel system under Houston is full of stores, restaurants, barber shops, and places to get your errands done during lunch without having to go out in the rain.
It’s also handy for getting to the garage you parked at without getting harassed by homeless people.
Most people walking around the tunnels are business people, wearing suits or casual, or security guards. But now and then, you spot a beggar or bum.
I sit down at a table outside a restaurant and count.
One.
Two.
Three.
A guard walks up, guides the bum to a stairwell.
A new record.

Chinese Arch

If you built an arch and had every Chinese person line up and march under it at a rate of one person per second, the line would never end.
But why would you do such a silly thing? What good does marching people in a line do?
And even if you managed to build the arch, I highly doubt that you could convince every Chinese person to line up and march under it.
The Chinese have better things to do than march under an arch forever.
They’re to busy planning to jump all at the same time…
Oh no… EARTHQUAKE!