Tag: dirty

April showers

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“April showers bring May flowers, and May flowers bring pilgrims” says the sampler on my wall.
As I look through this telescope into April’s bathroom, yeah, now you know why I named my cock “Mayflower.”
It used to be named “Norman Goldberg.”
I’m not sure why I named it that.
I don’t know anyone named Norman Goldberg, but a long time ago when I was looking at it, the name just jumped into my head.
I’m glad I changed its name. Would have been embarrassing to meet Norman in the street and say “Hey, that’s what I named my cock!”

Gold sinks

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Remember: Gold sinks and shit floats.
This bit of information will be most helpful when you swallow some gold and wait for it to pass.
My favorite prank is to tell people that I hid some gold bits in their dinner.
For the next few days, they’re all combing through their turds looking for it.
When they accuse me of pulling a prank on them, I say they must have missed the gold bits somehow.
Now, when they all come over for dinner, they pick through their dinner carefully and take tiny bites.
Just in case I do it again.

Fooling Osiris

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Rameses knew he was a royal dick. His heart was heavy with guilt. So, he constructed a fake from red feathers.
“That way I pass Osiris’ Test of Balances and go into Paradise,” he said.
On the day of their master’s death, his assistants did as he wished. They tore out his heart, put it in a jar, and carefully implanted the feather construct.
Then, they were put to death and buried with him.
Osiris looked at the feather-heart.
“Light, isn’t it?” said Ramses.
“Yes,” he said. “Pretty.”
Then, he took out a jar. “But this one says you’re fucked.”

New Phone

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I bought a new phone.
It has a lot of features, but instead of sitting down and reading the manual, I’m going to power it up and then complain about how hard it is to use.
Yes, I’m that much of an impatient dick. Instead of spending a little time now to save a lot of time later, I just like to hear the sound of my own angry, bitching voice.
The box says it’s supposed to have all sorts of stuff. Including a stun gun.
But I don’t have time to read about it… hey, my first call!
YEOW!

Fungusville

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There’s nothing unusual about Fungusville.
It’s a typical small town just a half mile or so off the freeway.
There’s houses, schools, businesses, and even a Main Street.
City Hall has a square with a cannon, a fountain, and a statue as part of a war memorial.
They have two churches, and they have a softball game on the Fourth of July every year.
No matter how many people I ask, nobody knows where the name Fungusville came from, or why someone would name a town after fungus.
Rubes!
I shrug and hop on the bus back to Hemorrhoid Falls.

The Day Ends

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Valentine’s Day comes once a year, and then it’s gone.
The flowers are dead, the chocolates are eaten, the champagne bottle is out in the recycling bin with the rest of the glass, and the card is buried behind the past few day’s stack of bills.
Still, it’s not as grisly a scene as when St. Patrick’s Day is over.
Half-empty kegs, beer-vomit and piss in the hallway, plastic cups on the lawn…
And then there’s the matter of the dead leprechaun.
I followed the rainbow, found his gold, stuck the little corpse in the pot, and buried it again.

The bases

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Everybody knows The Bases, right?
You do? Good.
Well, this being 2010, the bases have changed, and it’s girls running the basepaths of the guys.
First base is the guy’s passwords so you can check his email and Facebook to make sure he isn’t cheating.
Second base is the guy’s credit card. He’s supposed to pay for everything anyway, right?
Third base is his car keys, because when you’re drunk you don’t want to wreck your car.
Home plate? Why on Earth would you want to fuck a wimp who gives up his passwords, credit cards, and keys so easy?

The Dwarves at Night

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Sarah noticed that she smelled of strawberries when she woke up.
The shower washed it away, but every night, it kept coming back.
One night, she awoke to a pair of dwarves, lifting up her shirt and opening the lid of a jar of strawberry jam.
She pulled her shirt back down.
“What do you two think you’re doing?” she snarled.
The dwarves looked at each other and then back at her.
“Do you not like strawberry?” one asked.
Sarah said “There’s grape jelly in the fridge.”
She went back to sleep, and woke up feeling sticky and quite relieved.

Bother The Shit

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My Uncle Leo bothers the shit out of me.
He literally bothers the shit out of everyone.
Yes, he’s a professional constipation remedy.
He’s most effective when he bothers the shit out of you in person, but he’s so bothersome, he can do it over the phone or even by email.
There’s recordings of Uncle Leo on the Internet being sold without his permission, but they’re not as effective as the real thing.
And some of them are downright dangerous, remixed to the point where he literally bothers the hell of you.
Try closing that dimensional portal in your ass!

Get Out Of Bed!

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For some people, it’s the alarm clock.
For others, it’s getting licked on the face by their dog or cat.
What gets me out of bed, well, that’s kind of a moot point.
I never get out of bed.
Ever since the drunk driver hit me, I’ve been here.
The tubes, wires, and nurses do everything for me.
And when they can’t, well, they put me under and cut more stuff off or stick in more tubes and wires.
The brown tube there, well, that pumps out my shit.
Probably to the kitchen, based on how this damn porridge tastes.