Tag: magic

Piano Man

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I was sitting at a San Francisco sidewalk cafe, minding my own business, when a large herd of grand pianos slowly rolled along the street.
“Did they fall out of a truck?” the waiter asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think so,” I said. “They’re all going uphill.”
The pianos, paying no attention to our comments, continued their slow, rumbling roll up the hill and out of sight.
“Hey, maybe we should tell someone?” said the waiter. “They might cause an accident or something.”
“You’re right,” I said, pulling out a cell phone. “They completely ran that red light.”

He Loves You

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God looked over His Wondrous, Unlit Creation and decided it was good.
Well, except for one thing: The Plans.
“Something not right, Boss?” asked an angel.
“Let me get this straight,” said God. “I’m supposed to act like an asshole, drive people nuts for centuries, and then send down my kid to let them know I love them?
“Right,” said the angel.
“And then they kill him,” continued God. “But then he comes back from the dead?”
“Exactly,” said the angel.
“I must have been really drunk when I wrote that shit up,” said God, and He flipped the switch.

Worms, dance with me!

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I dance among the worms.
They writhe and twist in the moonlight, swaying in the mist that covers the grass.
I writhe and twist with them, and the grass feels cool against my naked skin.
“Let’s go to the lake,” I tell them, and the worms writhe in agreement and we crawl across the yard to the water’s edge.
Down in to the water I go, my body fills with it. But the worms stay on the shore and wait for my return.
Down… down… down to the bottom of the lake. To the very bottom.
Where I stay.
Forever.

If I Only Had a Lawyer

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Jane and I grabbed the wet Brooks Brothers suit and excused ourselves from the conference room.
“What do we do now?” Jane said. “We need a lawyer!”
I look around, and I noticed a hay bale in the lobby.
“Why is that there?” asks Jane.
“Who cares?” I said. “Let’s try it!”
We fill the suit with straw, chant the spells, and the Scarelawyer leaps to his feet.
“I shall represent you to the best of my ability!” he says, and we head back in.
Two hours later, we strike a deal.
That’s the last time we build a Snowlaywer.

The Face Of God

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Things were getting loud, hot, and heavy between me and Mary again.
“The absence of visible evidence of God disproves his existence!” shouted Mary.
Philosophy again?
Great.
“Well, I’ve never seen your tits, either,” I shouted back. “But from the curve in your sweater and how they feel in the dark, I can reason they exist.”
Mary put down her books, lifted her sweater, and I saw The Face Of God.
“Hi there,” He said.
Mary pulled her sweater back down, slapped me, and walked away.
You know, now that I think of it, I never did see her tits.

Let Him Dangle

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Kathy bought 78 canvases a few weeks ago.
It’s for a project of hers – she wants to paint the Tarot.
She could paint them up from memory, but she’s insisting on posing me as a model.
This week, we’ve been doing The Hanged Man.
Kathy may be having fun, but it really sucks to be me.
The blood rushes to my head and gives me migraines. Then I got rope burns on my ankle… until the rope came loose.
The studio has concrete floors… ouch!
But if you think this is bad, the next card’s the Ten Of Swords.

Labor Pains

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We checked the nanny’s references. Even did a Google search
She came up clean, but it turned out she was batshit crazy.
A month later, we were sitting down to a candlelight dinner at Rico’s when my cell rang.
It was a neighbor calling about the noise.
We got home just in time to stop the psycho bitch from cutting off another of our baby’s toes.
“They grow back,” the nanny shrieked. “Like a starfish!”
No, they don’t.
Two grew back. Like The Lernaean Hydra.
I flipped a coin, and my wife lost.
She cuts, and I’ll burn the stump.

Magic Compass

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My magic compass doesn’t point to North.
Instead, it points to Texas.
Wherever I am, it tells me which direction Texas is in.
It’s not terribly useful as a navigation device, but it’s a great conversation piece.
“How does it work?”
“Why Texas?”
“Where did you get it?”
Not only does it point to Texas, but it also points out Texans.
When a Texan sees this thing, they can’t help but smile.
Sometimes, they whoop.
I don’t think that’s a part of the magic of the compass, though.
Compass or not, Texans tend to be annoyingly proud of their state.

Zombie Garden

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You think of this place as a cemetery, but I think of it as a zombie garden.
See this bottle?
Let’s just say that this potion is the zombie equivalent of Miracle Gro.
I just pour it over the grave, wave my hand around, chant for a few seconds, and I’ve got a brand new zombie.
Well, not exactly brand new. Depending how old the corpse is, there’s the problem of rot and decay.
There’s another problem with this garden. The fruits of my labor don’t grow out of the ground by themselves.
Speaking of which, pass me the shovel.

A Swinging Bad Time

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You’ll have to forgive me for not replying to your email.
You see, I’ve got one of those laptops with a fingerprint reader.
The problem is, I cut my finger in the kitchen while chopping up lettuce for salad.
Now the laptop doesn’t know who I am.
There’s an option to use the password, but it’s been so long since I’ve used a password for my laptop, I can’t remember my password.
So I went to a hypnotist, and he swung a watch in front of my eyes for an hour.
But all I could recall was “A swinging watch.”