Tag: cliche

Focus

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I had a boss who made the craziest demands.
Once, she told me to focus on everything.
No. Really.
Focusing on everything.
Isn’t that impossible?
You have to focus on something. And then, everything else goes out of focus.
When something catches your attention out of the corner out of your eye, you shift your focus to that.
And what you had been focusing on, you don’t focus on anymore.
How can you focus on everything?
One day, I noticed that she used a special bottle of eyedrops for her contact lenses.
It glowed green.
I quit the next day.

Push Pull

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Some doors say push. Others say pull.
And then there’s some doors that don’t say either on them.
You have to figure out which way they go based on the handles.
If there’s just a flat plate to push on or a bar to tug on, that’s easy.
Then there’s the swinging doors. You push on either side.
What if someone’s coming from the other side?
Best to push carefully.
Or, if you’re feeling like being really mean, why not just kick the door in?
Although, you’d better be sure the door swings that way.
Want to sign my cast?

Coffee Down Under

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When it comes to the marsupial family, the koala is the heaviest drinker of coffee.
Kangaroos are already jumpy enough without caffeine.
However, they can easily afford to hop to Starbucks time and time again because of their deep pockets.
Possums enjoy a good cappuccino now and then.
Wombats prefer tea. And Tasmanian Devils use diet soft drinks for a quick boost of energy.
Technically, the duck-billed platypus is a monotreme and not a marsupial.
Nobody has ever seen a duck-billed platypus drink coffee, but then, nobody has seen one play a tuba, either.
There’s always a first time, though.

Masturbation

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If you’ve read Fark, you’ve heard the adage: Every time you masturbate, God kills a kitten.
So, every time a cat masturbates, does God kill a baby?
I know the answer. And the answer is YES.
Malnutrition, ad genetics, crib death – the government and WHO make excuses, but you’ll never get the truth out of their reports.
It’s masturbating cats killing all the babies! Damn them!
Very few people know. Bob Barker is one of them.
Why do you think he kept saying to spay and neuter your pets?
It was for the children. It was always for the children.

The End

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“Tell me a story, my beloved,” said the king, “Or the sun will shine over your headless corpse.”
Scheheradze smiled and recited the same story she’d told every night for the past three years.
The king was cruel, yes, but also senile.
He woke up every morning, free from memory of the day before.
So, when he’d ask for a story, it was always new to him.
Just once, she grew tired and changed it.
“Why did you change the story?” he said.
She was confused… frightened. He… knew?
He was laughing as she buried a dagger in his chest.

Happy Birthday

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Happy Birthday, America. So, how old are you now?
We’ve baked you a cake. A country-sized cake.
I know, we didn’t have to, but we had all this food lying around in silos and warehouses and store shelves.
It would have just gone to waste. Or food aid to people that hate us anyway.
We’ll dig a gigantic hole and call it your mouth.
Go ahead. Make a wish. Blow out the candles.
Then, thousands of bulldozers will push the cake into your mouth.
Earthquakes will chew it up. Grind it into a sugary mush.
And swallow the cake down.

It Takes A Thief

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It takes a thief to catch a thief.
That’s what the mayor said to the police chief when the crime rate threatened his re-election chances.
So, the police chief went to other towns, recruiting thieves.
He figured he should grab some rapists and murderers, too.
When the crime rate soared, the mayor lost the election and a new mayor took office.
The problem was, this guy was corrupt as hell.
The police chief wondered. It takes a mayor to catch a mayor?
He never got the chance, though. It took 10 hours for the coroner to find all the bullets.

Strewn at his feet

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It is a rule of the royal palace that everywhere our liege walks, rose petals must be strewn at his feet.
Sadly, the roses were killed by unexpected frost, and it will be months before new blooms can grow.
Our master lays in bed, tied up and angry.
“All I want to do is walk to the bathroom,” he growls.
“No,” I say. “We have no roses to strew at your feet. We must carry you.”
He sighs. He knows that he is no more important than the office, and with the office comes rules.
We tighten the ropes.

The Kidder

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My dad, the kidder.
Every time the old man tried to tell me his favorite joke, something interrupted him.
Usually, it was the phone. Or a knock on the door.
The last time I talked to him, I asked him again.
He stared out the window, just smiling. “I’ll be with your mother soon,” he said. “Anything you want me to tell her?”
He was calm, relaxed. Maybe a little tired from the pills.
This morning, he was gone.
I opened the envelope and read the note.
“I forgot the punchline,” it said. “But, trust me, it was really funny.”

Businessman Specials

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They call early afternoon baseball games “Businessman Specials.”
You might ask why call them that?
After playing a full game the night before, the teams aren’t going to be at their best. So, the players take the day off and the front office suits up.
Ever seen a marketing and branding specialist try to charge a bunt from third?
Almost as ugly as one trying to justify seven-dollar beers while watching a sub-500 cellar-dwelling bum squad.
Or your 100 million dollar cleanup man picking up a broom and cleaning up the stands.
Seen his slugging percentage?
Better make him mop.