For some reason, no matter what the circumstances, Jackson and I always end up arguing.
“This is just the tip of the iceberg!” shouted Jackson.
I ask him to show me the tip.
So, he pulls it out of his pocket.
I thought about my high school Physics: buoyancy and displacement will lift the rest of the iceberg up to replace the tip.
Then I thought of English classes: Hemingway said writing is like an iceberg: ten percent above the water while ninety percent below.
Finally, I thought of Jackson’s sister, the cheerleader.
Man, she’s hot!
I love these arguments.
Tag: silly
Baptized
Know what’s fun?
Getting baptized.
I’m not talking about one of those sprinkle-water-in-my-face baptisms.
I’m talking about a go-down-to-the-river baptism.
You see, I’m a mermaid. And when I get in the water, my legs transform back into a tail.
Then I laugh and swim away.
It really scares the crap out of the congregation.
Although, you’ve gotta be careful when planning these pranks.
Make sure it happens in a river and it’s deep enough to escape.
You do not want to end up dragged to a swimming pool at the local Y.
“You just baptized me!” I yelled.
No dice.
The Question
I was walking down the street when a pair of street thugs grabbed me by my arms and dragged me into an alley.
“Tell us what we want to know,” said a third thug.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
The thug scowled and punched me in the stomach.
“Tell us,” he said.
It took a minute to get my wind back, but I got back up and asked again.
The thug beat me in the stomach ten.. twenty… thirty times.
Morse code?
It took a minute to decipher: “How do you, Laurence, write a 100 word story?”
The Scar
I take it you’ve seen the scar on Captain Blood’s neck.
He claims he got it from a duel.
In a way, I suppose that’s the truth, but it wasn’t a fair duel.
His strategy is to draw his sword, then pull a pistol and shoot his opponent in the chest.
Once, he had a misfire, and was forced to reach for his other pistol.
That gun fired true and killed his opponent.
So how was he cut?
He slashed his own neck, reaching for the other pistol.
Don’t tell him that, though.
Or he’ll challenge you to a duel.
Chilly
He was a hockey player, she was an Olympic figure skater.
So it stood to reason that they’d hold the wedding out on the ice.
Invitations went out to their families, friends, managers, agents, teammates and fellow performers.
However, when the day of the wedding arrived, very few people actually showed up.
The groom was huffing mad, his breath fogging the air.
The bride was in tears, freezing on her face.
They looked for their wedding planner and demanded to know why nobody was showing up.
“You wanted an ice rink wedding,” he said. “And they expected a chilly reception!”
Fours
In poker, a pair of fours is known as sailboats.
I don’t like boats. I get seasick just looking at them.
And why would I want two sailboats? That’s twice the maintenance cost, twice the slip fees.
“Well, if one’s being repaired, you’ve got the other one?” says the dealer.
“Yeah, if I’m crazy enough to buy a sailboat, I’m going to want to have a backup for when I miss the thrill of vomiting,” I respond.
Isn’t that just like a dealer, trying to sell you on another damn hole in the water to pour money into?
I fold.
The Masturbation Fairy
You’ve heard of the Tooth Fairy, but what about the Masturbation Fairy?
She shows up at night and slips porn under your pillow. Or between the mattress and the box spring of your father’s side of the bed.
What she collects, well, maybe that’s better left unsaid.
What she does with all that stuff, well, I have no idea.
For certain, she’s busier than Santa Claus.
He just flies around the world once a year, and he only visits the good boys and girls.
The Masturbation Fairy visits everybody, all year round.
And the lump in their stockings isn’t coal.
Carry
Violet is a strange girl.
Sure, she’s plain in all regards, from her mousy brown straight hair down to her shabby tennis shoes, but along the way you can’t miss the fact that she’s always carrying a tuba.
It’s what sets her apart from the rest of the girls.
I asked her once why she carries a tuba everywhere she goes.
“Because if I go somewhere without one,” she replies. “so flew places keep one handy. Present company excepted, of course.”
I am proud of my emergency tuba, stored in a box and labeled “IN CASE OF VIOLET, BREAK GLASS.”
When We Were Relish
WikiPedia says that relish is “a cooked, pickled, or chopped vegetable or fruit food item which is typically used as a condiment.”
So, technically, that jar of chopped pickled cucumbers you smacked Alex alongside the head with is not a relish, as it was used as a weapon, not a condiment.
However, if you decide to decapitate Alex, cook his head, and serve it with the chopped pickled cucumbers on the side, then it’s still not relish.
Chopped pickled cucumbers do not go with cooked severed heads at all. However, based on its presentation, you could call it a garnish.
Mungidon Soup
When challenged by a bowl of mungidon soup, it’s best to have your back to the wall.
Mungidon soup is a clever and social soup, and often hunts in packs.
If you think that upending or shattering the bowl is all it takes to thwart an attack, you’ve thought wrong, you sponge-headed dunderstump. Mungidon soup is even more dangerous when outside of its bowl, tureen, or thermos.
Place your spoon in front of you, dip it into the soup, and consume it completely.
Blow on it if you can. This will soothe it before ingestion.
Otherwise, your intestines might explode.