Who Writes This Shit?

Okay.
I know what none of you are thinking.
Why write a blog if you don't ever take the time to write it?
Okay.
Maybe that's not what anybody is thinking.
I always hate it when people preamble a a shitty comment with "I know what you're thinking".
No you don't.
You'll say that I thinking something parallel to the conversation you've been having at my skull for 2 minutes, 3 days and 10 years but what's really going on is a jambalaya of unicorn robots shooting lasers at burning clowns and pumpkin elves in the midst of a civil war on the planet Fucktron.
Sorry for the run-on sentence.
We have a piss-poor educational infrastructure on planet Fucktron.

A Carrot Cannot Kill A Pterodactyl

I'll bet you that I can kill a person with any single object on Earth.

Oh, yeah?  Even with a single section of a toilet paper roll?

Yep.  Easy.  Slide it up a person's nose while they're sleeping.  It'll block their breathing and they will die of asphyxiation.

Hmm.  How about a dog turd?

Put it in their waffle iron.  When they make breakfast in the morning the chunks of shit in the batter with eat away the victim's soul.

Wow, I never knew you were so well-versed in science.

Yeah, I get an overabundance of use out of the left hemisphere of my brain.

Is that because the other side is missing after your failed suicide attempt with the shotgun?

The doctor let me keep the remaining parts in a jar.

That's nice.  Don't what you've got 'til it's gone, eh?

I accidentally dumped it into a waffle iron.

Soooooo, how would you go about the killing business with a tiny feather?

I would duck tape it to a sword and cram in into their eye socket.

A speck of sand?

Tape it to mail bomb that I would attach to their next Amazon delivery.

A dollop of butter?

I would lube up a fence post and slowly impale them.

The stem of a maraschino cherry?

Give it to Charlie Sheen to use as a sounding rod and then put it under their pillow and give them AIDS through osmosis.

Phew, well I am fresh out of thoughts for the day.  Looks like you are truly the master of your domain on this subject.

It's what I do.

Hope you won't get too upset that I'm not gonna finish the rest of my waffle.

No problem.  I'd offer you a sandwich bag to take it home in but I used my last one to kill the family next door.

That's kind of a downer, man.  They seemed really nice.

Oh, they died really nicely.

Top 5 Suspects In The Death Of Comedy

1.)  That's what she said.

2.)  That would make a great t-shirt.

3.)  That would be a great name for band.

4.)  They need to make an app for that.

5.)  Quoting Louis C.K. bits to smart women at bars in hopes that they will be temporarily ignorant of your true shittiness and blow you in a parking lot.

Unacceptable Words To Play When Playing Words With Friends With Your Girlfriend After She Fails A Pregnancy Test

oops

latex

allergy

just

put

tip

in

bye (triple word score)

Fashion! Turn To The Left. Fashion! Turn To The Right.

It's official.

Yeah?

I.  Now.  Own.  Zero.  Cargo.  Shorts.

Wow.  Big day.

That's right.  And I don't have any cargo pants, either.

Slow down.  Breathe.  Enjoy the moment.

And!  AND!  AAAANNNDD!!!!  We are living in a kangaroo-free zone.  Matter of fact, there are no marsupials anywhere near this house.

Well, yeah.  You're not allowed within 500 feet of any zoo for a reason.

That's not the point!

I've made a terrible mistake...

No, you're fine.  Just listen.

...no, really, I broke an egg making this omelet.  Dammit, I really thought I was better than that.

SILENCE!  Now hear this!  From this day forth I will no longer be in the direct presence of any clothing or animal that has a gigantic pouch attached to it.  That means if my back pocket has my wallet and my two front pockets are stashing my keys and cellular phone device and my two hands are occupied by a glass of milk and a flamboyant butterfly then take a moment and THINK before you hand me anything because i will have no place on my body that will fit your object.

Not true.  You still have one back pocket.  If I hand you something small, like money or a wet pack of matches, you should be able to fit them with ease.

Motherfucker.  Why didn't I think of that?

You know you're not allowed to be anywhere near a butterfly, right?

Foodborne Illness

You ever embarrass yourself when there's nobody else around?

Oh, hell yeah.  I once dropped a hot cup of broccoli and cheddar soup onto my dick because I was too horny and too hungry to not jerk off while eating.

Yikes.

Yep.  Pretty embarrassing.

Fuck embarrassing.  That sounds painful.  I hope you didn't get any molten chunks stuck in your dickhole.

I did, as a matter a fact.  Worse even, the doctor didn't believe my story.

You should have punched him.

I did.  He blocked it and kicked me in the balls.  Ruptured a couple of the blisters on my nut sack.

Oof.  Did he at least fix the damage to your testicles?

Kind of.  He apologized and gave me a lollipop.

How old were your when this happened?

43.  It was during the surprise birthday party I threw for myself at the local soup kitchen.

And there were no people there?

Well, it was on fire so the people who were in there were all dead.

Probably explains why the soup was so hot.

A Nazi Skinhead Group-Text

HeY, all!

S'up?

Yeah, what's going on?

I'm beating a chink with a sock full of quarters right now.  Can this wait?

exits conversation at 4:20

Oh,..yeah.  LOL.  Yer fine.  you other two GOt a sec?

I'm about to step out and spray-paint swastikas on my brand new Prius.

Oh kewl...Aren't u a Lyft driver?  That's a good IDeea.  keep your clientele honest>

You know it.  Peace out.

exits conversation at 4:29

I like that guuy.  You still there, number 3?

Are you typing this with your dick, dude?  What's wrong with you?

Dude!  Not cool!  You knooow my sister bit mi dik off WheN I waz yung!>/!!!!)

What?  Are you fucking serious?

Naw, man.  I'm playing with you.  There was a booger on my phone screen and I was trying to just text around it.  I finally just grabbed some Indian bitch and rubbed it off on the retarded dot on her forehead.

Phew.  For a minute there I thought something was severely wrong with you.