My son turns ten today.
We’re going to have a big party for him: clowns, bouncy house, his friends, so many presents, and a cake.
Then, when the party’s over, the leasing company will come by to pick him up.
Most parents choose up the option to buy, but we’ve been wanting another baby, so we’re sending this one back.
This time, we’ll just do a two-year lease. Avoid those Terrible Twos, that whole First Day Of School thing.
I don’t mind changing diapers, really.
Everything’s up in the attic, but we’ll get it later.
Oh, and Happy Birthday, son!
Tag: sick
Friend
I murdered Anderson.
I murdered Baker.
I murdered Collins.
And I’m going to murder Davis tonight.
I’m going to murder my way through the entire alphabet.
I know what you’re thinking.
You last name is Xiao. If I get that far, will I murder you?
No. I’m going to murder Ximenes.
I’d never murder you. You’re my friend.
Anderson, Baker and Collins were never my friends.
And that’s why I killed them all.
Them and Davis.
Davis dies tonight.
Maybe I’ll finish with three or four at once.
Xiao, Yancy, and Zimmerman.
What?
Sorry, I meant Ximenes.
See ya, friend.
I can hear the television cameras
They say I am the Bobby Fischer of Tiddly Winks.
I say I am better than he was at… at…
Play chess?
Piss people off?
Hate Jews?
Whatever he did, I am better at Tiddly Winks than what he did.
He had his board, his pieces.
His outbursts.
I have my squidger, my winks, my mat, and my cup.
Blitz! Blitz! Blitz!
Pot them all fast!
One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six!
Now I wait for my partner… and…
NO!
COME ON, YOU COULD HAVE MADE THAT SHOT!
Hurry up! Hurry up!
Hurry up, doctors…
Hurry up and clone me!
Leading
The old saying goes: You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.
Especially if it’s a vampire horse. Those only drink blood.
However, when you do the math, they’re a lot cheaper to take care of that normal horses.
They don’t need all that veterinary work, shoes, or other crap. Maybe the occasional fancy Victorian-style leather saddle.
None of that glitter or black eyeliner crap. Fuck Twilight, dude.
Oh, and fresh victims every now and then, which if you don’t mind going through a new stable boy every few days, isn’t much of an imposition.
You, who are strong…
Frank told me that he loved poetry. Always wanted to be a poet.
Instead, he became a dentist. His parents made him go to college and then medical school for dentistry, but he absolutely hated it now.
He sneaks out at night to go to poetry readings in coffeehouses and he reads his poetry.
Wakes up tired, exhausted. So tired, he makes mistakes.
As if he cares at his work anymore.
“I just blow through checkups now,” he says. “I get paid either way, right?”
I just stare back.
“Oh. Right. You’re fine. I think. Whatever. Go ahead and spit.”
Points
My fat pal Bob and I got stuck behind a chick on a bicycle.
“How many points you think she’s worth?” Bob asks.
“Vehicular homicide is six,” I said.
“No,” said Bob. “Weight Watchers points.”
We pulled alongside the cyclist and I gave her a good look-over.
“Not much fat,” I said. “Thirty or so.”
Bob swerved, and knocked her down.
Helmet saved her, but I finished her off and got her in the trunk.
Bob cooked and ate her.
“Yeah,” said Bob, patting his stomach. “That hit the spot.”
I killed Bob and ate him.
Fifty points, I’d say.
Unfusion
It looks simple, doesn’t it?
Get a cruet, pour in olive oil, toss in a few peppers or basil leaves. Maybe some rosemary.
Let it sit, and the flavor gets all infused and stuff.
So, I gave it a try, buying gallons of olive oil and a dozen cruets.
I filled them all up and put different herbs in each.
The taste was subtle, but enjoyable.
That’s when I started to feel the stomach pains, and I ran to the bathroom, shitting blood.
Yeah, you’re supposed to dry the herbs and heat the oil.
Otherwise, it gets infused with botulism.
Cabbage Rolls
Welcome to Armpitsburgh.
Here, have a cabbage roll.
We make the best cabbage rolls here.
Especially with the Cabbage Roll Festival coming up next week.
Everybody makes their best cabbage rolls, brings them out to the town square, and we hold a Cabbage Roll Dance.
Then, Miss Cabbage Roll is crowned and she chooses her mate.
We circle around the happy couple with pickaxes, they fornicate, and the prince is beheaded.
Then his head is mounted on a pike.
Say, I notice the lack of a ring on your finger.
Oh, you’re leaving on Friday?
Darn.
Have another cabbage roll?
Lord Foster’s Estate
Lord Foster’s estate is gigantic.
It is so large, by the time the man who mows the grass is done, the grass has grown back.
The groundskeeper asked for an additional man.
Lord Foster said no. The staff was large enough as it is.
The groundskeeper asked for a faster lawnmower.
Lord Foster said no. That lawnmower was fine for the job.
The groundskeeper asked if the lawmower could run at night.
Lord Foster said no. The noise was annoying.
So, the groundskeeper asked Lord Foster to come outside.
He tied him up.
And ran him over with the lawnmower.
The Killing Stone
Ever kill two birds with one stone?
It’s not that hard to do, really.
Especially if they’re chickens. Bashing in their heads with a stone is really easy.
In fact, if you’ve got them trapped in the coop, you can pretty much wipe out the whole flock with one stone.
Dropping a large paving stone on a bamboo cage full of finches or parakeets will take out half a dozen easily.
Ostriches are another case entirely. Those, you have to wait until they’re asleep, and take really careful aim before hitting them.
Otherwise, they’ll kill one human with one kick.