The Grinch of St. Patrick’s Day

Is there a Grinch of St. Patrick’s Day?
There sure as hell is, dammit.
His name is: me.
When I see fields of clover, I don’t look for the four-leafed mutants. I just turn up the volume on my iPod and fire up the riding lawnmower.
When someone offers me green beer, I throw it back in their face. Real beer is black, as black as night, and can’t be colored green.
And when someone says there’s a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, I punch them in the face.
Because, well, it really pisses me off.

The Devil’s Cock

Once, I knew a guy with a small penis.
Really small.
So, he prays and prays for a bigger penis, but God doesn’t answer, God doesn’t listen.
But me, I do.
“Gimme your soul, and I’ll give you a huge cock,” I said.
No, he didn’t fall for the giant chicken trick. Few guys do anymore. Instead, he worded his request carefully, eleven inches long.
I wrote up the contract, he signed it, and I fixed him up.
Eleven inches long.
And four inches thick.
It takes so much blood, the guy blacks out every time he gets a hard-on.

Groundhog Kink

I know a weatherman who likes to dress up in a groundhog costume, hide in a tree, and poke his head out to look for his shadow.
He also likes to wear a diaper and get whipped by two women in leather corsets and boots.
At least, that’s what the newspaper says. He tweeted that it was just a one time thing, and he was doing research for a news story.
He’s been suspended from the television station, but he still does the groundhog costume thing.
It’s not like you can tell who the fuck is wearing those things, right?

Superman’s Drunk

Superman’s drunk.
How can you tell?
His cape’s on backwards. And he’s got his boots on the wrong feet.
Plus, he’s wearing his glasses. Usually he remembers to take those off.
Then there’s the fact that he just killed Lex Luthor.
He ripped off the guy’s head and flew around Metropolis, shouting all kinds of crazy stuff.
Yeah, YouTube’s overloaded from people uploading and watching videos of all this.
Everybody’s out in the streets or hanging out of windows with their camera-phones, taking pictures and video.
Except Jimmy Ollsen.
He’s off somewhere, fucking Lois Lane.
And that’s why Superman’s drunk.

Luck be a dragon tonight

Okay, so I have a gambling problem, but some days the dice are good to me.
Once, I was on a roll, and I had a pile of chips so high, I couldn’t see over them.
I held out the dice and asked a lady to blow on them for good luck.
She turned out to be a fire-breathing dragon, and she breathed fire on my hand.
I got third-degree burns from that, and I had to spend all my winnings on surgery and rehabilitation.
The dragon didn’t stick around to see me through all the pain and agony.
Bitch.

Cadbury Sperm

My degree is in Biology.
I chose that field because I wanted to find the answers to all the mysteries in life.
So, when I received a basket full of Cadbury eggs for Easter, I wondered where all the Cadbury sperm were.
Did Mr. Cadbury have a vasectomy? Or is he sterile?
Maybe he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and he had them frozen in a sperm bank before the radiation treatment.
But then, at least they’d be in the freezer section, right?
I asked my grocer where the Cadbury sperm were, and he threw me out of the store.

Stormy

They give names to hurricanes. And cyclones, taiphoons, and tropical storms.
The sun has a name. It’s a sunny day. That never changes, although my weird Aunt Ruth insists on calling it Gertrude after her dead sister. When she says it’s a Gertrudey day, we know to take away her car keys.
Now, they give names to winter storms.
I suppose it is a matter of time before they give names to everything else, like tornadoes.
I call tornadoes JESUS! or MOTHERFUCKER!
Gertrude called Ruth that when she poisoned her for stealing her boyfriend.
He vanished in an unnamed blizzard.

Pregnant

Strange things happen to women while they’re pregnant.
They sometimes have cravings for foods they never liked before. On the other hand, they reach for their favorite foods, only to discover that they taste repulsive and disgusting.
One friend who is pregnant used to like horseradish, but now find that they have a hard time with it.
So, I told her to give the horseradish a hard time back.
Instead of refrigerating the bottle after opening it like the label says, put it outside on a railing where it might tip over and fall.
That’ll show the fucker who’s boss.

Ass God

A friend of mine recently underwent a colonoscopy.
They were all freaked out over it. The fasting, purgative, and the discussion about the anesthetic just made it all worse.
I told them how I just laughed through my own colonoscopy preparations and the procedure, and things turned out okay.
So, they went through it all, and they just told me “They found a precancerous polyp.”
That’s great news, I said, precancerous and not cancerous.
“Yes! Thank the gods!” they said.
Except the God Of Precancerous Polyps, of course.
Because he’s a total dick, giving those fucking polyps out to people.

Mean

I woke up feeling mean today.
So, I was mean to some oranges and squeezed them until I had juice.
Then I battered some pancake batter until I had pancakes.
The butter was whipped and tortured.
And I beat the crap out of a maple tree to make syrup before I chopped it down for firewood.
Grits? What the fuck are grits? Who gives a shit about grits?
When my breakfast was ready, I threw it all into the trash, and I went back to bed.
Maybe later I’ll order a pizza.
Don’t expect a tip, you stupid delivery boy.