Tag Archives: comedy

What a buncha maroons!

Everybody put ya hands behind ya head and lie down! Whaddya youuu lookin’ at!?

My fly? Oh jeez, thanks. Hey, I owe ya one buddy. Huh?

Yeah, okay. Alright. You can leave. But don’t tell anybody whatcha seen here or I’ll knock ya teeth into your throat for ya. Alright? Ok, be good now. Take care.

The resta youse down on the floor already! Hands behind ya head already! What language do I gotta talk to you idiots in?! LIE DOWN ON THE FLOO…

What the fu…?  On your stomach you moron! What the f&^% are you doin?! Yoga?!

Jeeezuz Lord help me I gotta buncha idiots in dis bank!

Hey you! Where you goin? Whaddya think this is, a voluntary gatherin of like minded individuals engagin in civil discourse for the sheer  pleasure and enjoyment of stimulating and thought provoking conversation? Get down on da floor or I’ll lay ya down for ya wit my friend Smith here. As in… Smith and Wesson!

Huh?

Whaddya mean it looks fake? Your brains ain’t gonna look too fake all over the nice marble floors a dis bank if I have to keep talkin to ya when I should be countin my hard earned money!

Cut! Cut!

The goddamned microphone dipped into the frame again! Somebody get me a new sound man, and fire that hair-brained, mic-dipping, money losing bastard of a man before I really lose my temper!

It was an accident sir.

You were an accident! You’re costing me a fortune with your screw ups! Scene after scene of beautiful acting ruined by your inept stupidity! What?!

Give you one more chance? I’ll give you a chance alright. FAT CHANCE! Get outta here!


And so, my dear readers, this has been the story of how I, once a promising cog in the great movie producing machine that is Follywood, ended up working for Acme Rail and Road Manufacturers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

10 Fat burning tips to lose weight fast!

Ok, here’s a quick way to cut the fat (and repair the economy):

Fire the politicians! ALL OF THEM!

Thank you and have a nice day. [No, you don’t need to pay me, I love my work. Thank you anyway.]

What the hell is wrong with you?

Just a quick note to share this gem I found earlier today:

Have a great weekend!

That’s what I’m talking about!!

Tank crushes car

Now this is what I’m talking about folks!

Need I say more… ? 🙂 See http://www.nydailynews.com/news/world/2011/08/02/2011-08-02_lithuanian_mayor_runs_over_illegally_parked_car_with_a_tank.html for details

Down with the automobiles!

On a more serious note, terrorism continues in the United States Congress as the Tea Baggers continue to employ their slash and burn philosophy of disassembling the Republic from the inside out. May a swift meteor strike save us all…

Let’s sap the poor, and those greedy seniors!

Because taxing the rich is unacceptable.  Just another thing that pisses me off.

Here’s another one: You may have heard this story in the media. Young boy killed by drunk, high driver (the destroyers of the universe even when they’re sober, don’t forget!) and the mother was facing a longer sentence than the drunk driver because she was jay walking. Damn that pisses me off. How do you give a drunk driver who kills someone (even if they were jaywalking) a six month sentence? Even if he killed no one there’s no excuse for drunk driving. Automobile dominated civil engineering and racism combined here to create what I find to be an infuriating situation. Thank goodness the judge spared this poor woman prison time.

While we’re on the subject of stupidity: WTF!?

A brief pause to address those of you who might sight the hypocrisy of calling out stupid while quoting from the NY Daily News: Shut up, please. It’s my easy reading paper of choice… and it’s free on my mobile device, whereas that other great NY paper whose name I can’t recall at the moment charges something like a dollar a day… I’m entitled to a free mobile paper!!!!! It’s 2011 for Chrissakes! I don’t want to pay for stuff like this is still the 2nd Millennium.

Besides, if the House Republicans continue their quest to legalize cannibalization of the poor by the rich, I’m going to need every cent I have to finance my survival. No money left over for charity, arts, being a good consumer, none  of that stuff. I’d even like to see a general boycott of consumerism for at least three months, especially if these ass-clowns screw this budget thing up. Everybody just stop buying stuff. Let’s tank the economy in  a stunning public economic suicide. Hoard every dollar you have. Damn, you have no idea how badly I’d like to see the entire capitalist consumerist corporate commercial  just-keep-shopping-till-you’re-dead system just blast a giant, runny fart all over the khakis of the smug elite. Even if it hurt us all in the end, I’d still love to see it. Damn, you just have no idea…

Might actually be a good thing since we don’t produce sh*t anymore anyway. Might even close the trade imbalance since all the crap we’re buying is made somewhere else… Here’s something that isn’t relevant (or is it…)

 

Heat Wave!!

Weight loss for the average Jane.

Today’s post is a special one. One whose meaning I hope will not be lost on you, dear reader, as I explore some of the more profound chambers of the human soul. I will need you, dear reader, to stay focused with me as we venture into these dark and dusty rooms whose existence remains dubious to all who have never ventured into them. The ancient moldy mildew dusts everything in these chambers with a sepia hued shadow that threatens to reduce our memories of this visit to an ephemeral wisp of vision not unlike an astral dream sequence. Are you ready, dear reader? Here we go!

In Rome there lived a Senator. His name I can’t recall.

He lived his life enjoyably, like one big happy ball.

He left unto his children

the land bequeathed to him

and sure enough,

through rough and tough,

they held through thick and thin.

Passing from this amber arbor, we move slowly through the hall into the next chamber:

There lived a sad old witch’s child, whose name is long forgotten.

The witch’s view of everything was sadly sore and rotten.

And so when time to harvest came,

her herbs and newts and brain,

her child pointed out to her: you do not harvest brain.

Moving into the next chamber, we encounter this strange parabolic entity:

Upstairs, downstairs,

Upstairs, down.

Three steps, two steps,

Three steps, trip and fall all the way to the bottom.

Dust yourself off and go have some cocoa.

Arriving at the parlor, we pause because we are tired and sit on the comfy couch to watch some Netflix. We fall asleep while the show continues unwatched. It doesn’t care.