I dreamt last night I was on the boat to Heaven.
Some dude stood up and shook dice at me.
“What are you, some kind of D&D freak?” I said “Sit down.”
The guy then pulled a bottle of whiskey out of his jacket and offered it to me.
“Dude, this boat’s already got me seasick. Put that away and sit down.”
He frowned, and that’s when a great big wave hit.
I shoved him overboard, took the bottle, and drank it.
Someone told me to sit down.
I told them to shut the fuck up.
Sanctimonious little prick.
Tag: dirty
Certificates
I’m the county clerk.
I handle all the certificates.
Births
Weddings
Deaths
Every one of them has to go on official certificate paper, lined up just right.
It’s a pain in the ass.
You can’t just print these out in a color laser printer. That’s not good enough for people getting married or having kids.
The dead don’t give a shit, but their relatives care… only right up until the will’s been read, though.
I got bored one day and left a death certificate for John Coward on the copier.
Ran a thousand of them off and proved Shakespeare right.
Tonight, I Have A Headache
Holy fuck. I’ve got the worst headache I’ve ever had.
It feels like I’m William Tell’s son, and he’s trying to make applesauce with a machine gun.
I swear, this headache’s going to kill me.
So, let’s fuck. Let’s fuck as hard and nasty as we can.
If this headache really does kill me, at least I’ll die looking into your eyes.
Your beautiful eyes.
Unless you want me to fuck you up the ass. Then, I’ll die looking at your beautiful long golden hair.
And if I don’t, I can just take an aspirin.
This bar’s got aspirin, right?
The Frog Princess
The princess found herself a prince, but he’d been cursed into the shape of a frog.
He told her that the curse would be lifted if she were to kiss him.
“At least that tasted good,” the princess said to the still-cursed frog prince.
“Maybe you need to do something else?” said the frog.
Grinning, she lifted her dress and shoved the squirming frog between her legs.
The experience was magical in more ways than one.
Exhausted, she looked up at her prince.
“Marry me,” she said.
“Hell no,” said the prince. “You fucked a frog, you disgusting freaky bitch.”
Good Soup
As much as I love the finer things in life, there’s nothing I love more than a simple store-brand can of vegetable soup with a cup of rice for dinner.
No, I won’t pass up a good sushi dinner, or wave away a steak if you’re offering, but there’s just no beating soup and rice on a lazy evening.
Just dump the rice in the rice cooker, add water, and then push a button. An hour later, microwave the soup in a bowl and dump in the rice.
Oh, and don’t forget to call a cab for the two hookers.
Atheists In Foxholes
Back in World War 2, US Army regulations clearly stated that there were to be no atheists in foxholes.
Atheists that would ordinarily be assigned to foxholes found themselves reassigned to trenches, bunkers, and pillboxes.
However, the Clinton Administration’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy allowed atheists to join their religious brothers-in-arms in the foxholes.
It also allowed them to engage in all the gay sex they wanted to in those foxholes, just as long as nobody asked them why they weren’t shouting OH GOD, YES while climaxing.
As for the atheist chaplains, there’s no explaining some shit the Army does.
The Zoo
I love the way the word zoo makes my mouth hum.
Zooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
I like to play my kazoo at the zoo.
But the zookeeper doesn’t like the noise.
“If you don’t want people playing kazoos at the zoo, why sell them in the gift shop?” I shout.
“Just because we sell them, we don’t encourage their use here,” he shouted back. “You can buy condoms at the drug store, but you don’t use them there, right?”
Of course not.
His wife is the pharmacist. We’re having an affair. And she’s on the pill.
(Or. at least she says she is.)
Spiterella or Swallowerella?
The prince held the glass slipper in his hands and smiled.
Sure, he could roam the kingdom, letting women try it on, but feet can be so disgusting.
Instead, what if it were something else that would identify the mystery woman?
Something he actually enjoyed.
The next day, he announced that a mystery woman at the ball had given him the best blowjob ever, and he’d marry the woman who could prove she was the one who did it.
Among the thousands was a scullery maid.
Pretty, but really… a prince with a commoner?
“Swallow and leave,” he said, laughing.
Itsy Bitsy
I’ve spent the last ten years trying to breed itsy and bitsy spiders together to make an itsy bitsy spider.
The problem is that itsy spiders don’t want to breed with bitsy ones, and bitsy spiders will have nothing to do with the itsy ones.
I’d use artificial insemination, but have you ever tried to artificially inseminate a spider?
You have?
Well, dang! You know how hard it is.
Imagine how hard it is when their bits are itsy!
Teeny-weeny… literally!
Once, I thought I had an itsy-bitsy spider, but down came the rain, and…
Well, you know the rest.
Vile
Ted’s smartphone was a cesspool of filth.
His browser’s bookmarks linked to the most hardcore and obscene sites on the Internet.
The music library was packed with rap that glorified gang violence, subjugation of women, and drug use.
And his collection of apps couldn’t be any more foul and putrid.
Ted was always on the lookout for more, so he fired up his smartphone’s genius feature to find new apps based on the rogue’s gallery occupying the memory chip.
The phone suggested one app.
So, he clicked the download button, and then opened it.
The app wiped the memory clean.