Ever hear music so awful it makes your ears bleed?
Or see something so awful, it makes your eyes bleed?
Well, that’s to be expected, but it’s when you hear something so awful it makes your eyes bleed, that’s a crosswiring of the sensory organs.
Since Synesthesia is when auditory stimuli cause you to sense smells or see visions, or seeing colors when you see numbers, we’ll call it Synesbleedathesia when one sensory input causes another to output blood.
As for hearing things or seeing things that make your ass bleed, well, that’s salmonella.
Stop eating raw eggs, you idiot.
Tag: sick
Her eyes
Her eyes are so beautiful, so deep, and so bright.
I hired an artist to create glass eyes identical to them so I can carry them with me wherever I go.
A peek now and then reminded me of her beauty, like carrying a spring of lavender for the scent.
Then, when she died, I paid a taxidermist to have her mounted, and those glass eyes became hers for eternity, unblinking… staring at me across the room.
What? You think me a monster for doing this?
Wrong! Look upon her yourself! Was she not the finest bird you’ve ever seen?
Seven Brides For Seven Monsters
It all started when Victor Frankenstein made his monster.
The monster got lonely, so he made a bride for the monster.
But the bride was way too hot for the monster, so he kept her for himself.
This pissed off the monster, so he made another hottie just for him.
But this new hottie was even hotter than the bride, so he kept her as a mistress.
“So, about the monster…”
No way, said the bride.
“Threesome?”
No.
All this time, the villagers sat around with their pitchforks and torches, far too amused at Victor’s shenanigans to storm the castle.
Missing
The disappearance of Mindy Murphy took the town by surprise, shocking everyone how such a horrible thing could happen there.
However, when Mr. Murphy started putting posters up all over town with HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL? and her picture on them, there were voices of protest.
“We know you’re worried about your girl and such,” said the mayor. “But let’s face it: she wasn’t the prettiest girl around. And that’s not one of her better pictures.”
The town was relieved when another, better-looking kid got kidnapped. Milk sales returned to normal. Heck, the kid was so good-looking, they doubled.
Magi
Doctor Odd put down “Gift Of The Magi” and smiled.
O Henry’s tale reminded him of when he sold his invincible army of robots to buy his true love a crown of diamonds, while his true love gave him an Orvis gift certificate.
Orvis?
What the hell?
He didn’t own anything from there.
They fought and broke up.
She kept the crown, and it really pissed him off.
So, he activated the homing beacon, recalled his robots from the pawn shop, and conquered earth.
He put the crown in his trophy case, mounted on his former true love’s severed head.
War Torn
Abraham Lincoln told his family of a strange nightmare, waking up and hearing sobbing from invisible mourners, seeing a raised platform with a shrouded corpse on it.
“Who is dead in the White House?” he asked.
“The President,” said a guard. “He was killed by an assassin.”
Abe said there was a loud burst of grief that woke him up, but the truth was, he climbed into the coffin with his own corpse and had mad passionate sex with it.
Abe never got the chance to explore his latent homosexual necrophiliac tendencies.
Well, that, and restore the war-torn nation, either.
Roll Your Own
Stacy was an artist.
I thought she was a lunatic.
Maybe she was both.
She’d strip naked, cover her body in paint, and roll around on a gigantic canvas.
Blue. Red. Yellow. Green.
Color by color, she’d add to her artwork.
I mean, yeah, she was pretty, and the medium was kinda interesting, but it got repetitive.
Nobody told me that she always wanted to hug someone when she finished painting.
So, I was wearing a tux that night, so when she hugged me, I got pissed.
I slapped her, she slipped on the paint, and broke her neck.
Shit.
The Well Of Apology
Every April, the thieves in the town jail are chained together and dragged to The Well Of Apology.
One by one, the thieves are handed a knife, and they are forced to slash their palms and drip blood into the well.
Then, they are unchained, and released.
Any thief who is caught red-handed is beheaded at the well, their head falling into its depths.
Some say that when you cut your palms over the well, the dead whisper up to their friends.
Maybe it’s just the wind, the rattle of the chain.
Have you noticed, the mayor always wears gloves?
Down the drain
You look tired.
Let me tell you a secret.
Some people wake up to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee, but caffeine is a drug and that just gets you wired for an hour.
I was late when my coffee machine broke, so while I was showering, I peed in the drain.
It takes a few seconds for the smell to hit your nose, but when it does, it sure as heck wakes you up.
Yeah, no matter how good your aim is, you still need to wash the tub down.
At least you’re awake.
(Just don’t take a shit, okay?)
Drug Problem
Two tablets of worry, chewable.
One tablet of fear, swallowed whole. If you feel light-headed, do not operate heavy machinery or operate a motor vehicle.
Three capsules of lust, taken with milk or mashed up in applesauce.
One tube of hunger, to be smeared on the thighs daily and allowed to dry before dressing.
Two drops of envy, one for each eye. May cause temporary blindness. If condition persists for more than four hours, purchase a dog and a cane.
And finally, one shot of…
What? You’re afraid of needles?
Shit. I should have given you this one first then.