Stage one cancer is localized.
Stage two is locally advanced.
Stage three has spread throughout that organ.
Stage four has metastasized to other organs and systems.
Stage five spreads to your family and loved ones.
Stage six goes after your neighbors, the mailman, and the guy who reads the gas meter.
Stage seven will steal your car and rob a bank.
Stage eight is when it spreads across the city. It may even run for mayor.
Stage nine rots the country, ten infects the planet, and eleven the entire universe.
For the sake of existence, turn your head and cough.
Tag: sick
Mouse
I needed a mouse for my docking station at work, so the computer guys presented me with a fancy wireless mouse with a lot of buttons.
I had to change the battery every few days, and I was always messing up my work because of a wild function button press.
I went to Amazon and bought a simple two-button mouse with a wheel and a cord.
The computer guys made fun of my insisting on such a simple and crude pointing device.
“You can’t do anything with that mouse,” they said.
So, I strangled each of them with the cord.
The Cards
Back before the Internet and online services, you had to look things up in reference books for answers.
However, when you’re playing poker in the basement with a bunch of drunk teenagers, the idea of calling Information has appeal.
“Does a full house beat a straight or a flush?” I asked.
Information had no idea.
So, I called Information in Las Vegas.
No, they didn’t know the answer, either.
But they connected me to a casino, and they knew. And I won.
However, by then, someone had puked on the cards.
The money was clean, and I took it all.
Love Gone Wrong
Everywhere, I see bumperstickers that say JESUS LOVES YOU.
Shit.
Yeah, Jesus and I had a thing back in the day.
It got weird. And then creepy.
I told him to take a hike.
He was all like “FINE!”, but he started following me everywhere, showing up everywhere I went.
Coincidence, my ass.
Then he killed my fish. Turned the water in the aquarium to wine.
I called the cops, but they told me to change the lock.
After that, Jesus threatened to kill himself.
I said “Go ahead.”
And he did.
But the asshole came back three days later.
Billy Billy
Billy’s last name is Billy.
Call him Billy Billy.
But don’t be surprised if he tells you that you have his name backwards.
“Yllib Yllib?” you ask.
He likes that joke. But don’t push it.
We don’t want to freak Billy out, because he knows where his father buried all the money.
We tried to beat the answer out of his father. Didn’t work.
Then we threatened to beat Billy with him watching.
That almost worked. Except that when we asked Billy where the money was, he knew.
We’ll dig up the money.
And bury Billy with his daddy there.
The Ugly Duckling
Once upon a time, there was a duck’s nest full of eggs.
They all hatched at the same time.
One of the babies was uglier than the rest, and the others picked on him.
As they all grew up, the ugly baby didn’t sprout feathers and a beak.
Instead, he grew shiny scales, pointy teeth, and wickedly sharp foreclaws.
Because he was a velociraptor.
One day, a duck made a comment about how ugly he looked.
The velociraptor slashed his head off, and he ate the duck.
Then, he killed and ate all of the judgmental little bastards.
How delicious!
The Tupperware Party
We’re holding a Tupperware Party at my house.
No, we’re not showcasing food containers.
We’re a political party. And we’re planning a revolution.
We hope to preserve the union, the constitution, and individual freedoms.
How will we do that? Simple, really.
By encasing everyone in plastic containers, of course. And by pushing down the lids to burp out any air.
We’ll start by sealing up all of the current political leaders in Washington. And capitals across the world.
Once peace breaks out, we can unseal them.
Make sure to label everything. Although creamed spinach is much more popular than Congress.
Shelf
I started with a bottle of wine.
Then, I turned the lights down low.
Tonight’s going to be special.
I took the Philip Glass CD down from the shelf and put it into the player.
Then, when the moment was right, I pulled the shelf from the wall.
The screws popped loose after a few tugs.
I wiped the dust off of the shelf and gave it a long, deep kiss.
Oh yeah.
The next day, I met up with my ex and told her all about it.
“I told you to go fuck yourself,” she said. “Self, not shelf.”
Feeding Time
I know that my pet python doesn’t love me.
It’s just a snake.
But it’s big and beautiful.
And I love it.
I used to feed it mice and rats, but the pet stores won’t let me buy them anymore.
And the medical testing breeders are so damn expensive.
The city shelter euthanizes so many puppies and kittens every year.
I made them a deal.
They paid me to take care of the dirty business, and I wouldn’t answer any questions.
Some of them wanted to watch.
I said no.
This isn’t a sideshow spectacle. It’s nature.
Show some respect.
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?