Tag: society

Old Man Winter

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On the last day of Winter, Old Man Winter loads up his magical ice sled and tours his Winter Wonderland for the final time.
A team of gigantic penguins pulls the mighty icicle chariot through the sky, and Old Man Winter scowls through his frosty beard at the melting snow.
Northern zephyrs rush past his ears, roaring their last.
That’s when he hears the siren.
It’s the cops. He is pulled over. Driving the ice sled drunk again.
Old Man Winter will spend the next three seasons in jail, but he always breaks free when Autumn comes to a close.

Shamrock

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Just as Valentine’s Day has become one gigantic commercial for flower merchants, candy makers, and greeting card printers, I fear that St. Patrick’s Day has become nothing more than a Guinness commercial.
Whatever happened to St. Patrick’s miracle of driving all of the snakes off of the island of Ireland?
To commemorate the true miracle of St. Patrick, we’ve farm-raised several thousand snakes and we will release them in Ireland on March 16th. Then the next day, the Irish can drive these snakes out.
Maybe when we get a corporate sponsor, we can afford to stockpile a supply of antivenin.

Nanny

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Just as Nanny raised me, she raised you. And just as she raised you, she will raise your daughter.
Nanny has raised the children in our family for five centuries now.
Why would you refuse Nanny’s services? After all, part of her regimen is to instill the simple truth that Nanny must raise all generations of our family.
It has always been that way. It always will.
Why you would rebel against this simple thing can mean only one thing: you are not actually my daughter.
Tell me what you did with her, and I promise you won’t suffer much.

My dad is a ninja

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It was Career Day at school, and every child in Miss Claire’s class brought their father in to show off.
Susie’s father was a fireman.
Abdul’s father was a lawyer.
Johnny’s father was a baseball player.
Bobby’s father was… absent?
“Where is your father, Bobby?” asked Miss Claire.
“He’s lurking in the shadows,” said Bobby.
“Why?”
“Because he’s a ninja.”
“He’s not a ninja.”
As fast as lightning, a fist plunged through Miss Claire’s chest, ripped out her heart, and showed it to her before she died.
“See?” said Bobby.
Oh, did I mention that Susie’s father was a fireman?

It’s hard to be a pimp

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Sure, it’s hard these days to be a pimp, but not in the ways you’d think.
PETA keeps protesting my fur hats. Also, the fur hubcaps on my pimpmobile.
Ever since I pimped my ride, it gets lousy gas mileage. Gas ain’t cheap these days.
Every John wants to pay with PayPal. Or credit cards. My pimproll is just a bunch of receipts.
See these gold teeth? Do you know what it takes to keep them clean? Colgate doesn’t exactly make Grill Paste, you know.
On top of all this, I bet iTunes delists this pimpcast.
Shoulda been a doctor.

Arby’s lies?

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So I’m watching television and this commercial comes on for Arby’s. It’s got Hulk Hogan’s voice, but some kind of pipsqueak as a body double.
Anyway, the commercial is for their chicken sandwiches, and the big thing they’re hyping is the fact that they are now 100% real chicken.
Well, if it’s 100% real chicken now, what the fuck was it made out of before? Beavers? Particle board? Yarn wrapped around tungsten ingots? WHAT????
Instead of selling me on their new product, they have me questioning their other products.
Is it real cheddar in the beef and cheddar?
We’ll see.

Hold On

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All you have to do is hold on for eight lousy seconds.
I, on the other hand, have to wear this crazy-assed crap and save your butt if you don’t.
Some bulls wear themselves out and stop. Not yours.
The chute opens, and seven hundred hamburgers wrapped in bull skin and horns tries to toss you into next week.
I might catch you. And then, I might not. I might just catch the horns instead.
My mother wanted me to be a doctor. Instead, I’m a lousy rodeo clown, and we’ll both need one soon if this bull doesn’t stop.

Zorro

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Every society has its zorro, a man who rises up and fights for the people.
In Zambia, he is known as Paktuku, Defender of the Wells, and he is armed with a golden spear.
In Estonia, he is Gabt, a mighty one-armed woodsman with a gnarled axehandle.
In Paraguay, the zorro has no name that is spoken aloud, but the people hint of “He who glides like a feather.”
But compared to all the other zorros of the world, I like the sissy in the black cloak and sword the best. Maybe it’s the big black horse he rides around.

Diamonds are not a girls’ best friend

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It was Tina’s first time.
The deal was simple: she’d swallow the bag of diamonds, fly to Rome, and then she’d crap them out.
It would have been the easiest ten thousand dollars she ever made. What could possibly go wrong?
When she landed, Customs waved her through.
They were waiting for her. Tossed her in a car and drove for a few hours until they got to the villa.
“Change of plans.”
They shot her, cut her open, pulled out the diamonds, and buried the rest.
They used to harvest and sell the organs. Too much of a hassle.

Later flight

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Despite a running through the terminal like O.J. Simpson, I was late.
I remember pounding on the door and yelling at the gate attendants to stop the plane.
They didn’t. Instead, they stopped me.
“I gotta be in New York by five or I lose the client!” I shouted.
“Then you should have been here by two-thirty,” grumbled the cop as he handcuffed me.
Two hours later, they opened my holding cell.
“The plane went down over Indiana,” said a guard. “You’re the luckiest man on earth.
I called the client to explain, but luck only goes so far.
Bastards.