Tag: sick

Money

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I know one guy who’s just rolling in money
No, I’m not rolling in money. And even if I were, I don’t think rolling in money is a very productive thing to do.
Invest it. Spend it. Save it.
But roll in it?
That’s just weird.
Then there’s the guy with money to burn.
That’s just fucking crazy. Burning money.
Sometimes, he dangles the money over the flame to tease me.
Once these two guys got together, and they ended up rolling in burning money.
I grabbed what I could, buried the charred corpses, and bought a ticket to Reno.

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!”

Sealed with a kiss of death

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At first, we thought that Stanley was being attacked by flesh-eating bacteria, but the bacteria turned out to be the mailman.
It seems that the Postal Service is forcibly retiring as many of its older workforce as possible and replacing them with less-expensive cannibals.
“They don’t need a lunch break,” said the Postmaster General, giggling with glee.
Bastard.
Because of the danger, I pay all my bills online now.
Christmas is 8 months away, but I’m already thinking ahead for the Christmas gift season.
Just leave the packages on the doorstep and back away, Chief.
Otherwise, I’m firing my blunderbuss.

Icons

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One of my favorite computer pranks is to capture a desktop screen, make a wallpaper out of it, and then delete all the icons.
When the user comes back to their workstation, they double-click on the icons on the wallpaper, but nothing happens because they’re not really there.
After a while, they start to panic, clicking and dragging and pounding the keyboard in frustration.
It’s funny to watch. I let them freak out for a while before revealing the prank.
One time, I wasn’t there to reveal the trick, and they slashed their wrists.
I don’t do that prank anymore.

Patrick

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Patrick hated St. Patrick’s Day.
Every March, people would start calling him “Saint Patrick” and expect him to wear green.
They’d call him “Paddy” in a really bad Irish brogue, rub their hands through his red hair, and pinch his rosy cheeks.
This year, he caught wind that he was going to be paid in pennies in a pot.
“A pot of gold!” the payroll specialist chirped.
“Pennies are zinc and copper, you idiot!” Patrick shouted.
That’s when he snapped.
That night, carrying a thick sack into the office, Patrick loosened the rope around the end and released the snakes.

The Mermaid Feast

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Old Captain Jack was a friend to all creatures of the sea, so when he died, they took his boat out thirty miles from shore and cast him into the briny deep.
Six mermaids caught his shrouded body and escorted him over the horizon.
The crew set course for port, but winds blew them back out, and they came across the mermaids.
They were feasting on Jack’s corpse, hands drenched in gore and blood.
The crew wanted to fire their cannon to scatter the mermaids, but instead they just watched.
Watching half-naked cannibal women are better than nothing, I suppose.

Clown Fights

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Billy and Bobby live next door to each other. They have the same birthday, too.
That’s caused problems.
You see, Billy and Bobby hate each other. And those feelings boil over when they have their birthday parties.
One year, they each got a pony. Cute, right?
Wrong. It ended up in a jousting duel.
This year, they’ve each got clowns. Bobby slashing Billy’s clown’s tires got things off on the wrong floppy-shoed foot.
The rubber chickens and balloon animals are flying. I’ve seen a few clods of dirt and bricks.
Better bring the cake inside. And get me my shotgun.

Oatmeal and Raisins

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We shut down the particle accelerator, turn off the lights and call it a day.
Back in the break room, a food fight breaks out. We’re throwing cookies at each other.
Smashed cookies litter the floor.
And then, upon closer inspection…
“Wait,” says Dr. Thompson. “These are plain oatmeal cookies, right?”
“Right,” says his assistant.
“Then where did all these raisins come from?”
He picks one up, and begins to theorize on cookie particles in other dimensions, crossing over with energy transformation.
Then he tastes it.
And makes a horrible face.
I shrug and call the exterminator.
“We’ve got rats.”

The Rings

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During the Olympics, Hector stopped serving onion rings at his diner.
He also diced onions instead of putting them on hamburgers as loops.
The risk of five onion sections arranging themselves into the five rings logo of the Olympics was far too great, and lawyers were constantly watching for an opportunity to sue.
“Onions make you cry,” said the lawyers. “But we’ll make you hurt.”
Then they’d order a hamburger with onions and onion rings, just to rub it in.
Hector snapped, grabbed a lawyer, and shoved his face into the fryer.
The others, he stabbed.
And didn’t even cry.

The Executed

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The execution is over, and the king congratulates the royal headsman.
“Well done,” he says.
The headsman nods, holding his hood.
Afterwards, he walks to his dungeon alcove, closes the door, and lays down his massive axe.
Then, he takes off his black hood and hangs it on a hook.
There is no mirror in this room… they are luxuries for the nobles.
So, he is saved from the horror of looking upon his rotten and gruesome visage.
Pulling the freshly decapitated head out of a sack, he replaces his rotten and putrid one.
And puts the hood back on.