Sometimes Jesus kicked back on his small patio with the flamingo, appreciating the sunset and the ice-cold beer, and contemplating his luck at being supported by his father with the monthly checks.
Zen Master Dogan always gave his OCD students the following koan in hope that enlightnment would cure their disorder: how much wood does a wood chuck, chuck?
Dave’s light ire turned to utter amazement and then knee-knocking awe when he learned that Elvis and Mama Cass were living with Jesus in that rusty old single wide.
They sat around the kitchen table, drinking cherry cokes and playing scrabble like they had done every night…their past transgressions had earned them an uncomfortable silence…grudges were forgotten, hate was set aside for another day and for the first time…they talked.
After years of prayer and fasting Dave was a little miffed to find Jesus living in a run down trailer park off of I-5.
Triker’s pet bumble bee could get nothing on that lowlife Sean, no matter how many times he buzzed his way into the back room to eavesdrop.
Joey slaved over a hot stove all day, because he just knew that presenting each of the guys with a jar of homemade pickles would earn him a place in the gang.
Joey Pickles believed that you could still make a living as a mob hit man with a name like Joey Pickles.
I wonder about corporate I.T. guys who make it possible for me to get all the free internet porn I desire but won’t allow me to access my webmail accounts.
Hector found that shooting skeet was much more fun than actually eating it and in that regard he prefered to catch and release.
Sliding down the banister I suddenly discovered the purpose of underpants.
The infamous Inspector #36 suddenly wondered if there really was more to life than Fruit of the Loom.
Donald’s most Kafkaesque nightmare occured earlier this morning when upon waking he discovered that overnight he had been turned into Woody Allen by some nefarious agency heretofore undetermined.
Sadly ever since moving half-way across the country I can’t help but imagine my friends secretly meeting each night over coffee and seasoned curly fries as they plan my untimely demise.
I’m hiding from the cleaning lady, who knows a bit too much about me, if you know what I mean.
...it’s probably a good sign when you find yourself watching the Best Picture of 1931, in which the beauteous Irene Dunne is reduced to reciting terrible dialogue, surrounded by hammy actors, in a cheesy adaptation of a cheesy Edna Ferber novel, with a dollop of racist zeitgeist for good measure, and you think to yourself, “Man, they could not do this in a movie anymore, because no one would sit still for it,” and the realization of this leaves you in prayer, fervently thanking your Creator.
Is it a bad sign when you find yourself watching a movie you’ve loved since you were twelve years old, and, as you’ve done thousands of times before, you watch as a plain screen changes hues and the entire overture plays before a single credit is displayed, and you think to yourself, “Man, you could not do this in a movie anymore, because no one would sit still for it,” and the realization of this leaves you awash in tears?
Every night after I go to bed, Replica Watches sends me an email, begging to be a Scriner.
I just had to get another one in; these are sci-fi convention goers in costume who toke a bit too much.
Sometimes, life just is.
The knight enjoyed traveling with the sansei, except when he kicked dents in his armor.
It was certainly the most brief hardware sign he’d ever seen, but the saws did seem very good quality for the price.
Peter waved innocently at the ten centaurs, hoping the leaves would hide the nets.
Steve Shemmeningster sold his smile for a pint of beer and was immediately renamed Lumphead Steve by the Upright Fivers, a small band of 3rd St. hobos who all claimed to have ascended, but as luck would have it, sunk back to earth a day or two later.
Remember that scene in Winnie-the-Pooh when the water’s rising—well, where Jo and ‘Mouse are, it’s beginning to feel like that.
Keith had never shot the census gun before, but there was something in the air. Something different. Something bad. Today might just be ... day of the Censors.
Becky squealed with delight as the burgeoning bubbles got bigger and flew higher and higher into the wispy sky.
See: Scrine.
The little lurt was confused when his arms fell off, but not all that bothered.
As the plane began to bank on its final approach to the airport, several thousand feet over Cincinnati, Ohio, Bronwyn began to dream of bourbon-filled chocolates from Rebecca-Ruth Candies, chocolates which can only be purchased in Kentucky—including the wing of the Cincinnati airport that extends over the Kentucky state line.
As inspired by: Jo's Heightened Census
The guards were so alert and on edge that they not only noticed the people-figments, but managed to wrangle them into jars.
You want high, try a toke of this excellent sinsemilla, dude.
Luanne packed a suitcase full of her very favorite preposition/ conjunction/ adverb in preparation for the poetry jam in Aspen.
As inspired by: 'mouse's Heightened Centses
This was the year the government decided to count only those who were six feet or taller.
Jon always put two pennies in the payload section of his model rockets.
Something very large hit the roof and “Doug” was up and out of bed, crouched like a Ninja from her long years of training, before you could say “popsicle.”
Henry’s garlic smell overpowered Gollum’s rotting marsh odor.
As inspired by: darksteve's Don’t use newspaper in bird cages
Nothing heightens the pleasure of a sentence like the pleasure of a sentence shared.
It was a beautiful and happy day, people cried, people laughed, people were in love, and the whole day was brought to focus in the six years of love it took to grow the mango.
Not fully understanding how the world actually worked, Keith invested his last penny on a new “Doug” mug.
I dreamed our group of mourning friends suddenly started immitating farm animal noises and laughing and it was better than hugs and made us feel much better.
I dreamed a close friend died and I really needed a hug.
Keith’s a cat!
Charlie’s greatest nightmare came true that morning when she awoke and discovered she’d forgotten every password and couldn’t quite recall her mother’s maiden name.
Seems like all I can write about is the trees and the light; I hope it’s enough.
It is amazing how much time, energy and money it takes to make something that will be thrown away six minutes after purchase.
Everything tastes better with ketchup.
‘Mouse shocked the world when he set the new gold-standard for “poorly drawn” in Keith’s new poorly drawn comics section [edit: and now with bonus insight into ‘mouse’s head].
Thanks in part to the new genetics codes that assured that all full-grown adult feet grew to a reasonable* men’s size 8, shoe shopping at Sears became quite simple.
Smith vs. MicroNike, 298 U.S. 534 (2295)
Neighbor Bob realized, with dismay, that he’d cut the branch upon which the ladder rested; on his descent he remembered that long ago stint in the Navy which involved a similar incident, and far more embarrassment.
The duck, which was lying in small pieces on the plate, thought that the woman in the blue dress who was eating hungrily, slurping juices from her fingers and occasionally letting slip small moans of pleasure, showed a rather unseemly lack of comportment—and the duck appreciated her joy and the symbiotic nature of their relationship.
The scrabble board hovered while the tall man gathered in his knees and scrunched his body in an attempt to become invisible until, finally, realising his tactic wasn’t working he opted for magic and (in what he hoped was a commanding tone) said ‘cake’ - which didn’t work - serving only to make the scrabble board wobble aggressively and build threatening words.
Grud was generally impressed when she noticed a shiny new and as yet unsigned Australian band featured in Scrine Tunes - but moving on to the new Scrine comics was a little dejected to find that ‘mouse, bunni, bakerina, pam — well most of the scrine clan for that matter — had failed to entertain her with their own cartoon interpretations of scrine sentences - ‘dance for me, dammit!’ she cried to an empty room.
Playing with her pirate swords, muskets — and every now and twanging her eye patch for effect — Bethany looked out at the folks on the sidewalk - ‘ah-haaaaahhhh me mateys’, she called out, not for a minute thinking that a man would reach into the car (now paused at the lights) and with a hearty pirate ARRRRGGGHHH! take her weapons and snatch her eye patch mid twang… PIRATE! she yelled at his retreating back as the traffic moved onward.
As inspired by: 'mouse's further stacking the results and thinking about the future
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet are all colours of the rainbow, but ducks, dinosaurs, cheese-sticks, rayguns, alfoil hats, spaceships, books, saffron and mangoes are not.
Can someone please ‘splain to me precisely what a ‘tag cloud’ is??
As inspired by: boot's stacking the odds
I wanna snog… and drink beer… and scotch… and beer and scotch and beer and scotch and snog some more (maybe not all at once or exactly in that order) [edit], after which it will be time to look at her shape, rub her flesh against my cheek, close my eyes and feel the smoothness of her glowing orb as I open her up—her juices flowing while I bury my face in her moistness and taste her buttery mango perfection on my tongue.
As inspired by: the 500 club
After thinking the matter through while sitting in the museum amongst the ancient dinosaurs and dusty books, the intelligent and pulchritudinous inamorata decided to dance all the myriad colours of the glittering rainbow.
Message to the kilt wearing pervert who exposed his commando self to me in Starbucks this afternoon: NOT impressed, little man.
In a perfect world, thought Muriel, there’d be a Brassiere of the Month Club, which would mail new bras to her door so she wouldn’t have to endure shopping for them.
I’m wondering what accent you have.
Arthur Schopenhauer’s jealousy came to an apex when he would punnish those students who fell asleep during his rather boring lectures by making them recite the name of his nemisis, Immanuel Kant, five times fast.
Brandon in a fit of sardonic pique enrolled his loquatious professor in the Haiku of the Month Club.
“Swoosh,” said the Onomatopoeinic Man as he jumped through the door, hands on hips, hair and cape flapping in a wind that was only in his mind.
A small sign outside the courthouse simply read: All Prosecutors will be violated.
With absolutely no help from anyone, Larry was able to dig his own grave each and every day.
Bronwyn looked guiltily at her friend when they both spotted the new signboard the library had posted: No Snogging in the Stacks, Please.
everybody go ‘way, it was all a dream, waaaahhh?
Ths cold has occupied me like a horde of marauding bees (or cats, more realistically).
I’ve had nothing but good luck since I was shat upon by a bird on Chinese New Years Day, so perhaps there is something to the superstition that says it’s good luck.
And by “this thing” I mean the ability to comment.
Daryl became a firm believer in evolution when his daughter was born with several pockets (one just the right size for an iPod).
Frank had a secret space between his bed and the wall where he hid his Louis L’Amour collection.
“Look, it isn’t brilliant, hell it probably won’t even work, but it’s the best plan we’ve got and we’re going to run with it, so put on that costume, stop your whining and start acting like a damn monkey” said one budgie to the other, all the while tweaking his own disguise to ensure he looked just like the picture of Michael Jackson on the front page of The Weekly World News.
Of course, everyone knows birds are no good with dates and failing to realize the paper was old, the costumes they’d cobbled together were sooo last season that the gig was essentially up before it began.
“In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks, and the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks.”
“[H]uman reason is so fond of building that many times it has reared up a lofty tower and then afterwards pulled it down to see how the foundation was laid.”
When you need something done, give the project to the busiest person you know—they’ll either rise to the occasion and get it done for you, or at minimum, you’ll get the entertainment value of watching their head explode.
For his whole life Billy dreamt of climbing a giraffe neck, but died at the ripe old age of 94, his dream unfullfilled.
One of the words I hate most is “career.”
I stood there, arms outstretched as if to grab the sky - seemingly so close from the top of this mountain range - as the warm rain cascaded down, thrumming on the sheet metal roof in the paddock behind me and, with the only other sound being the occasional peal of thunder resonating throughout the valley below, figured it wasn’t a bad place to live.
That wasn’t quite the help I had in mind, she thought, as the clerks and most of the cashiers burst into song.
With tomato season behind him, Inspector Horace was free to roam the land.
I like ‘em.
I just ran 4 miles in 20 degree weather, I have grown snotsicles and I think my lungs may be bleeding…will someone please remind me why I am doing this?
If I only lived in a very dusty house it might be embarassing, but living in The World’s Dustiest House! counts as an achievement.
Apparently the hand lotion that I purchased contains mica, so it makes your skin sparkle; even though my seventh-grade Texas History teacher called me Sparkle (don’t I wish I were joking?), I still think there ought to be a warning label on all products which contain anything remotely glittery.
Having glasses means never having to say “peripheral” again.
If I had a signature dance move, it would be known as the Cold Shoulder; and if I were to dance my dance move at a dance contest, I’m fairly sure that I would perform the Cold Shoulder at the annual Brush-Off.
“I couldn’t understand what was going on - but to stop myself from crying - I counted the flies on the dates on the plate on the floor.”
I swear, if it’s not ducks, then it’s ants and if it’s not ants, then it’s spiders - the little bastards parasailing in numbers from the roof - I’ve stopped looking up because when you look up and see ten of the little buggers and then hit them with a full blast of bug spray and they still keep coming - you don’t really want to know how many more are darting about on the ceiling.
I’ve just noticed that the current shape of the monthly archive list down below vaguely resembles my own.
The good news is that my son, who hasn’t had a haircut in well over a year, has announced that he will be ready this spring, but the bad news is that he spotted a picture of me from the 80’s, and is now looking forward to his first mullet.
My general unconcern for my own failures is perhaps my greatest achievement in life.
His first mistake was not putting on shoes that morning; his second, undestimating the degree to which the colloquialism “razor-shelled angry clam” accurately described a particular bit of local fauna.
The sky was exploding in delightful waves of daisies and sherbets, each wave rolling out the oppressive heat, the dots of cool ladybugs were peppering down and reflecting off the diamond eyes of the young girl and as each wave bounced away they hit the striped circle of sugar overhead and the colours slowly melted away into pots of rose-petals, ochre, yolks, grapes, buttons, ice-cream, and violets.
“What type of creature is the booby?”
No one I know worships God’s socks, but then I haven’t met everyone.
If only you knew.
Sometimes like a mad scientist I work on secret stuff; I’ve perfected the maniacal raving, but am still looking for a good and faithful hunchback assistant.
The two best subjects for good writing are the following: ghosts, and orphans.
Coffee really sucks, if you think about it too hard, but it sure beats an injection of meth in the butt.
She spent all her waking hours trying to piece together a paragraph out of Scriner’s sentences that made sense .
Thanks in part to the often misunderstood 32-foot Impossible Suction Law, Religious Scientists were able to successfully prove conclusively that Heaven does not only exist, but does so only a short distance above our very heads; Reverend Scram, the nation’s leading authority in the cutting edge field of Holy Physics, was later quoted as saying, “The fact that God is barely more than 30 feet away at any given moment clearly explains His great omniscience.”
Kiwi birds rule!
I think that tomorrow is the day for a certain little lemon saffron cake—along with 11 of its siblings—just as soon as I make a market run for sour cream, dried coconut and some more lemons.
It can be chewed, cracked, expanded and burst, but somehow it always manages to maintain its basic structural integrity.
Wouldn’t it be cool if you could just call a “Do Over” the way you did when you were six when you mess up your life?
Bullets flew and she crouched next to the van, calculating the distance between her and the welcoming door of Starbucks.
Crazy, the events of a Good Day and a Bad Day at work can occur within an hour of each other on the same day…these are the days when I am tempted to go home and Drink Heavily.
Tearing apart the nurse’s station, searching for the missing Holy Water to baptize a dying baby before the heart stops beating, I think to myself; “I hate this fucking job.”
Welcoming new life into the world, tears all around, placing a fresh wet feisty newborn into Mama’s waiting arms, I think to myself; “I have the best job in the world”.
“I’d prefer to watch in the afternoon, rather than the evening, if that’s okay with you, but not while we’re eating lunch.”
As much as I would have liked to have put an end to it then and there, my shot went wide, knocking out the taillight of the escaping van.
As a young girl, I dreamt of finding a secret door to a small community of caring, if slightly odd, people… hello everyone.
Happy Chinese New Years Eve!
As inspired by: Keith's Somethings
“Funny, sometimes, that romance is just another one of those somethings that ends with litigation. “
Completely out of proton cream, Theodore knew his only option was to run.
Fever has turned her face florid red, making her a beautiful little flower, even more than usual.
I gently lean back against the pillows, hoping against all hope that the storm cloud gathering behind my eyeballs, blowing through my head and swirling my vision is nothing more than a short bout of exhaustion and not the migraine I fear is approaching the horizon of this evening.
I don’t believe in Shanghai.
I’m sorry Ms Boot, your previous sentence is in serious need of intervention.
Just like when a drunk drinks a bunch of coffee you don’t get a sober person, just an alert drunk—the same principle seems to apply to my administration of a chocolate bar and a Coke to try to wake up—I’m still sleepy, but my eyes are wide open.
Lost: one brain, feared melted.
If I wander into the kitchen tonight and serve myself Corn Nuts for dinner, by God, someone’s gonna pay!
Believe me, it came as quite a surprise when I found out that a Corn Nut lunch had already been scheduled for today.
Now that I’ve decided to have Corn Nuts for breakfast, there’s no telling where this day will go.
All in the same dream, I drove to the dentist’s office, locked my keys in the car while it was running, couldn’t find the office inside of the impossibly large complex but did manage to call a locksmith who opened my car, parked it somewhere else where I would later have trouble finding it, handed me a bill for $653 for his services, which made me so mad that I went back into the building to attend the locksmith training seminar I’d noticed was going on, where I was put through several rather bizarre locksmith tests, the worst being swallowed live by a 10-foot tall praying mantis, which almost made me over-panic as I wiggled just shy of a pit of stomach acids, about to drop in, until I noticed a button on the side of the stomach lining, pushed it, opening a secret door that led back into the training room, where I was handed my locksmith license and an old, empty brown denim duffel bag, which I was told would hold my tools.
Darwin’s theory just isn’t enough some days.
Dipshit snored ostentatiously until he saw Delia slink out the window, then he nudged the remote control off the couch and attempted to make a phone call.
Would the cats succumb to their capitalistic cravings and sell “Doug’s” estrogen to Willy, the neighborhood spider monkey, or simply feed it to the dog, just to see what happened?
“Mate, this place was really stonking yesterday.”
Take one human and a handful of bedsheets, add a pinch of sweat, set the temperature to 30C/86F and leave to set overnight.
“Oh my God,” said “Doug,” “my estrogen has been stolen!”
There’s a treat somewhere on this page that tastes just like memory lane.
Clive knew where to steal the pills—that wasn’t the problem at all—but creating a flourishing black market for stolen estrogen pills, now that would be a challenge.
Fishing on the pot while cutting bait, she realized, as she rose, that she’d been about as proactive as humanly possible.
Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, but teach a man to fish and he’ll eat for a lifetime—unless pollution and global warming kill all the fish, in which case he’s screwed.
So, I was driving along today (a particularly hot day) and spotted, almost at the same time, a fat old man jogging and an ambulance going the other direction and watched on enthralled as every dodgy lawyer’s worst nightmare came to pass; the ambulance u-turned and, perhaps marking a turning of the tide in that predator/prey relationship, started chasing the man (at least that’s my story).
“The MEETING of 8 would be people talking about the number 8.”
This body belongs to my patient, not me.
I’d rather eat week-old lutefisk, Olaf thought as he stared at himself in the mirror.
Fruit, musk lollies and berries flew in all directions as the young girl floated her way through the cool, iridescent evening jelly.
While moving backwards through time was somewhat enjoyable, she found it was music she missed most.
“I’ve never eaten a mango.” [Keith]
Bobby thought he loved everything about Peggy, but then every time he caught a glimpse of her tap dancing squirrel tattoo, he found himself having second thoughts.
I bought a mango yesterday and only just noticed that it has a little pink love heart on it that reads “Love Fruit”.
There is something strangely liberating about telling your office superior that you may be patient but you do have a line, and crossing it is unacceptable.
I was searching for Blue-Footed Boobies, as I always do, when I happened across this shocking item. (totally SFW)
Has anyone here ever seen a monsterpod in real life?
Delia stood on Dipshit’s shoulders in the 5-foot snowdrift (it was Duluth, remember) and managed to force open the jailhouse window using only her steel-tipped claws.