Posts tagged ‘joking’

Cooking Pro-Tips II

 For real men there’s no such thing as too much cocoa.

Thirty years later…

 For real men there’s no such thing as too much coffee.

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Crappy Birthday in June

Know a smoker? Hate the living crap out of that fucker? Want to gift him/her with the worst curse from Pandora’s box – false hope?


Lucky you! 

This cigarette case, with the hopeful message of survival, whilst containing suicide in small doses, is the perfect gift for this occasion. 
Crappy birthday,

A.

Mother’s day 2017

Been to a gift shop, found these “innocent” party masks. 

I have seen that movie. Those three are going to have their way with a woman in an all night ravaging orgy. 

So, there’s a gift idea for this Sunday’s mother’s day 2017: If you don’t know mommies three “best friends”, just give her these masks, she’ll make good use of them. 

Crappy Mother’s day, and if you get a new sibling in February, and your mommy calls them an animal name like rabbit, deer or teddy/bear – you’ll know more than you ever wanted…

Advices (part I?)

I am usually not one to browse the advice columns, and even if I per chance glimpse one or two funny things in there, I just quip about it with my wife and my best friend, and then it’s done.

But this time I’ve got to steal a format from Buckley. 

Dear anybody but the lunatic, 

I recently caught my fiancé and his sister together and broke up with him. I’d always gotten a strange feeling about their closeness, but I didn’t believe it until I saw with my own eyes. To my family and friends, it seems like I woke up one morning and decided not to get married. Everyone is pushing me to work things out with my fiancé. Initially, I wanted to keep what I saw between them and me. If I tell people they have an incestuous relationship, it would probably destroy their lives. I know they’re barely functioning and terrified I will tell people about them. I’m worried I will seem spiteful if I tell even a few trusted loved ones the real reason I called off the wedding. At the same time, I’m heartbroken too and don’t know how much longer I can handle lectures about “letting a good man get away.” Should I stay quiet or speak up?

Signed, let’s call her Lonesome in Lannisport.

(Note: The original advice columnist suggested at the end to tell people that the fiance was unfaithful and to leave it at that, as it contained enough truth.)

Dear Lonesome,

call me an evil maniac or a vengeful shitlord, but I’d say that you should tell them.
Tell your friends, your family, their family, the local newspaper, church congregation, everyone. 

If I got cheated on in preparation to our weeding, I’d make both their lives living hell. Siblings in an incestuous relationship, makes that only that much easier, as no one in their right mind would defend their behavior. You know, there is always some friends, relatives, counselors, or someone who side(s) with the cheater, rather than the cheated. Making up excuses. Trying to get you, the cheated, to see things from their, the cheaters, point of view. Not here.
We have a Jamie and Cersei situation here, and this ain’t Game of Thrones. Don’t be worried that it’ll ruin their lives if you tell. THEY should’ve thought about that before doing the dance with no pants together, and brought that all upon themselves. You on the other hand will get support from your community (friends, relatives, bla bla bla) instead of pressure, and they get what they deserve.

So please, tell them the whole truth, before a Geoffrey gets conceived. 

Take care, 

A.

Scary 

Easter came and went, and as such I, unexpectedly, have another trinket for you.

Because if I don’t, my brain will swell until my skull cracks open like an egg, so it can escape the fruitless pondering of “who thought that this was a good idea???”

This coloring book is neat, at first glance:

Googly eyes.
Until you change the page.

UNGODLY NIGHTMARE CREATURE, UNHOLY GHOUL FROM THE FIRE REALM! CALL 911, THE FBI, CIA, NSA, KGB AND CHINA!
Fuck me, this is creepy.

So, as an after thought, again a ghoulish happy Zomb…er…easter. 

Take care,
A.

Life ain’t that hard, Chemtrails (beating the hippies)

Listen you dipshit Hippy scum.

If there WAS an evil ploy to reduce the ever growing number of people on this heating ball of dung, or reduce them to drooling halfwits, there’d be easier ways to do so: Feeding laxatives to city pigeons, decaffeinating ALL the coffee on the face of the earth, lacing the watersupply with Meth, removing the warning labels from ALL the things thus letting the problem solve itself, feeding plants to livestock that are harmless to them but will kill us if we eat them or their milk.

You get the picture.

But NO diabolic, Doomlord would make his (or her) sinister attempts at poisoning/controlling the docile population THIS obvious.

Don’t start on the whole “hiding it in plain sight” argument, it’s moot from the get go. You lobotomised halfpeople rave on and on like rabid baboons about evil chemtrails. They’d be found out if it was true.

The additional fact that in a closed ecosystem like earth you can’t spread chemicals just on ONE place moots the entire project further. all those people involved would poison themselves. Their friends, relatives too.

Pathetic.

Now. find a new boogieman to be frightened of, a new tree to bark up. But stop this no brainer of a still-born idea that chemtrails are a thing.

Take care you sods.

A.

Season of death

Others find spring romantic.
Everything awakens from their wintery slumber, blossoms open, life seemingly begins anew. It’s the season to fall in love in, the season for wedding vows, for having children, for outdoor activities, for outdoor sports. The season for life!

I, however, think that spring is the season of death.
Not just because my grandparents died shortly before and during spring respectively, but because of those opening blossoms.

Worse than the radioactive deathcloud from Chernobyl had hit us, this hits home every year.

Pollen.
Clouds and clouds of pollen.

I wake up in the morning with a sore throat and clogged nose, every breath hurts as if I had smoked two packs of cigarettes last night, minus the smell. And my eyes water and itch as if some jokster had strewn sand into them.

Outdoor activities?
Yes please, but only when it rains, or shortly thereafter.
Romantic?
In a morbid way, sure.
The same way some people think venomous snakes are romantic (or pretty), I think of beautiful springtime flowers/blossoms.

It never fails to alarm me, reminding me of my own mortality, when I wake up to an annoying cough, my eyes already a ground zero of itching and burning.
Seriously, frack spring.

PS: Despite this obvious attempt at manslaughter by mother nature, I still do my work out. It involves a lot more panting and gasping for air, but I do it anyway…