Tag: sick

Birds and the Bees

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For parents who are uncomfortable teaching their kids about… well, you know… the church has tapes teaching in-home sex education.
Well, DVDs these days, but you get my drift. Just sit Little Susie in front of the monitor, hit “Play” and walk away.
The problem is, the pastor’s been known to download… well, unusual movies from the Internet – just for research.
But still, he’s been known to burn the wrong video to a disk.
Right now, Little Susie’s watching “Caged Bitches In Bondage.”
Boy, is she going to have questions. And she’s going to be really popular in high school.

Cut Off At The Knees

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Before the accident, I used to swim in the ocean.
Now, I look down, and where I once had knees, I see only ragged stumps.
The doctors say they’ll clean those up a little more for me.
“Where are they?” I asked.
“Gone,” say the doctors.
“What have you done with them?” I asked.
“We have taken them,” say the doctors. “But we will bring you the ashes if you want to be buried with them someday.”
Instead, I will spread them over the ocean.
No sense in making them wait for the rest of me.
Let them be free.

Kill All The Lawyers

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Doctor Odd’s wealth comes from a series of patents he’s licensed the rights to.
If I told you what devices he invented, you’d be amazed.
You’d also be shocked to know that such easy-to-use devices were blamed by countless fools for causing grievous injuries.
They sued Doctor Odd for millions of dollars.
Doctor Odd responded by inventing one last, simple, incredibly useful invention.
Everyone in the world ended up buying one. In fact, each person born into this world is provided with one now.
Oh, and this invention – it also kills lawyers.
(Which makes it even more useful, I suppose.)

The Playboy God

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In his penthouse apartment, God is drinking.
He does this every night.
One, two, three too many.
He wobbles and sways on his barstool, finally falling to the vast black marble floor.
In a final moment of clarity, he retches up the universe.
Then, he passes out.
In this vomit cosmos, we are born, and live, and love.
And die.
After eons of uneasy slumber, God comes to his senses.
Confused, clumsy, and disgusted with himself.
Ignoring our pleas for mercy, he looks for a mop.
Then, after cleaning up, he settles at the bar.
And begins the cycle again.

The H Word

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“To the man with a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”
Ever hear that?
I have. And I saw something similar to it carved into the bathroom stall: “To the man with a tree and a rope, everything looks like a nigger.”
Disgusting, isn’t it?
Know what’s worse? It’s carved into the bathroom stall of a church.
My church.
I close the Bible and look up from the pulpit.
“Which one of you fuckers wrote that?” I shout.
They stare back. Nobody responds.
Oh well. No sense beating a dead horse.
Potluck Sunday, you know.
Pass the potato salad, please.

Blue Ear Wax

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Everybody knows you’re not supposed to stick a cotton swab down in your ear canal to dig stuff out, but we all do it anyway.
You gently swirl it around in there, even though eardrums will rip no matter how gentle you are.
The cotton swab comes out and…
It’s blue.
Usually, you can expect some yellow or tan ear-wax, but blue?
What could you have stuck in your ear that was blue?
Why don’t you remember?
Do you dig in there deeper?
Do you call the doctor?
Or…
This is why there’s cotton at either end of the swab.

Sleep Like A Baby

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I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently.
I used to get seven or eight hours of sleep, but now… well, none at all.
While watching television one night – or was it morning – I saw a commercial.
It was for a new sleeping pill. It promised me that I could sleep like a baby.
So, I talked to my doctor, and I started taking the pills.
I’ve been sleeping like a baby. Quite literally, sleeping like a baby.
I wake up three times a night, call my parents on the phone, and cry for no reason.
Oh, and I’m constantly shitting myself.

Mmm Mmm Blood

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Pierre had the sharpest and fastest knives in any kitchen in Paris.
So it comes as no surprise that when he chopped his finger off while cutting up vegetables for the soup, he didn’t realize he’d done it until he’d dropped them in the pot.
Along with his finger.
By the time the paramedics had arrived, Pierre had passed out and his assistant was keeping pressure on the wound.
Nobody could find the finger, and apparently they didn’t realize he’d put it into the soup.
Know what?
It tastes delicious.
And best of all – he’s got 9 fingers left.

Dancing in the Drunk

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Australians call it Waltzing Matilda.
Japanese call it Saki Hop Susie.
And the Jews call it Horah With Hierschel.
Let’s face it: you’re drunk, and you want to dance.
Feel the dance inside you. Let it rise through your pores and take control.
Good. Now you’re dancing.
If you feel your stomach gurgling, you can take a break. Just bend over and let it flow.
Until then, dance… dance like you’ve never done it before.
Just do me a favor, okay?
Dance over here in the parking lot. You’re holding up traffic out there in the middle of the road.

Cleveland

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When people ask me where the bad man touched me, I tell them: “Cleveland.”
He touched me in Cleveland.
It could have happened anywhere, really.
Dallas, Chicago, Denver… but there was a huge storm in Buffalo that night. So the airline diverted the flight in Cleveland and forgot about us.
No hotel rooms.
No food.
Nothing.
We dragged chairs together and slept in the terminal.
And that’s when the bad man touched me.
In Cleveland.
And I liked it.
In fact, I’m going back to Cleveland next week.
We’ll see if the bad man is there, too.
I hope so.