Skeezers and Skanks
it sucks that there are girls out there who are only interested in money, and it sucks that there are guys out there who are only interested in looks...but it's also kind of good to know that they exist. one day you may want to be pursued only for your looks, or one day you may want to see if your money and wealth can fill up your yacht with a bunch of money-chasing yacht bimbos. the type of skanks that make even the most passionate feminists into rabid misogynists. and you'll be sad when they don't exist. "hello, young lady. would you like to wear a bikini and spend the day on my yacht sniffing cocaine from my pharmaceutically enhanced old man dong?" "no thanks. although i may look shallow, i'd like to be judged by my personality." that sounds like a terrible world. a world where a girl with no discernible personality or sense of humor and giant fake boobs can't spend a day on a yacht being inappropriately fondled in exchange for a shopping spree. that sounds awful.China
why does everyone want to boycott these olympic games? just because china has dealings with corporations in darfur that perpetuate genocide? because they treat their workers like crap? that whole tibet thing? that is nonsense. the olympics are the perfect place to show china just how much they suck. "you think that's funny china? stealing all of our automotive jobs? see you in the pool!" that's why the olympics are great. you can take your problems to a neutral arena and work them out on a balance beam or racing around a track. if we had boycotted the berlin games, jesse owens couldn't have crushed all those uppity germans and shown hitler what a tool he was. this year, as africans dominate the marathons, and tibetans sweep the mountain climbing competition, maybe china will think about how lame it is.Underachieving Fat Folks
well, once again an american has won the nathan's famous international hot dog eating competition. that's two years in a row no thanks to you fat guys. for years, this little 130 pound japanese dude kobayashi dominated the annual hot dog eating contest ...held on the day of our nation's birth no less. helpless against his tyranny, a hero emerged. a three hundred pound beast from the fattest nation on earth? a monster of enormous girth from the land that invented the deep fried twinkie? the first hero in history to show up on a motorized scooter? none of the above. joey chestnut, a five foot eight one hundred and fifty pound white guy with a heart twice as scrappy as that cumbersome lump that laboriously slaves away in your morbidly obese chest. that must hurt. you're fat, and you're not even good at eating. "it's genetic. it's glandular." yeah genetically, you have the glands of a god, and here you are squandering them. trying to adhere to this thin esthetic society has placed on you. lying about how much you eat, hiding donuts under your bed, dragging yourself to the gym once a month and sluggishly walking a mile on the treadmill just to show the world, "hey, i'm trying. it's these damn glands." don't hide your gift, fatty. you were born to eat. it's time you get serious about it. you don't have to feel bad about a third trip down the buffet line or eating an entire cake in one sitting. not when you're training. you have no will power to stop eating? perfect. that's the first step to becoming a champion. but, do you have the will to keep eating?George Carlin
george carlin was an artist. he left behind a body of work that should our civilization become destroyed like pompei, they would unearth and say, "this is how they were." not pop stars. not modern art. no one gives a crap about your shovel you glued to a wheel barrow. you are not an artist. george carlin was an artist. will there be statues made in his image? no. only war heroes and sports stars get statues made. how is george carlin going to be remembered? national george carlin day? no. are you going to put a sticker on your car? please don't. "in loving memory of george carlin...this beautiful 1993 aerostar van." stop doing that. it's embarrassing. it just makes people who pass you feel awkward. i shouldn't tell you how to grieve, but for me personally, i have no interest in being memorialized on your car - and i'm assuming george was the same way. i feel the same way about roadside crosses. that just seems like a convenient way for you to grieve your loved ones without even having to slow down on your way to work. "i miss you, tim." as you speed by and hurl some flowers out the window. nonsense. "tim's where he's always wanted to be. mile marker 9." and george is probably where he wants to be. away from a place where kurt vonnegut's death is a footnote to the anna nicole smith circus. atleast, unlike a lot of artists, we got over fifty years of him.Political Strategy
barack obama may become the first black president of the united states. i think that is mega. i may not live to see a triple crown winner or an undefeated football team, but i would really like to see a black president in my lifetime. the hardest thing for him to overcome is going to be capturing the vote of intolerant rednecks who wouldn't vote for him even if he was running against hitler jr.. barack, i think you need a strategy. that's where i come in. why not just make a major part of your campaign to make it illegal for men to sleep with their sisters? "i ain't votin' for no black!" "oh, why? because of that no screwing your sister thing?" "what?! naw, it's cause he's a god damn ni..." "i get it dude, you want to have sex with your sister." "alright. i'll vote for him."
tai chi
i teach tai chi
i eat chai tea
each tai i cheat
i tai each eat
i eat chai tea
each tai i cheat
i tai each eat
God Comma Damnit
if it's true that god doesn't enjoy people taking his name in vain, then my family is in for a talking to. but i really don't see how saying, "god, damn it." is in vain. with that sweet comma there, you're just addressing god and kindly asking him to damn something. who better to do it? doesn't god really get a kick out of damning things? doing something in vain is when there is no chance it will help you. like bailing water from a sinking boat or applying pressure to a crocodile bite. if saying "god, damn it" is taking the lord's name in vain, are you saying he can't possibly damn something? that's insulting. falling down an elevator shaft to your imminent demise and saying "god, help me" - that's in vain. but if you're hammering a nail, accidentally hit your thumb and say, "god, damn this hammer." there's a good chance god might hear you and say, "righteo, old buddy. damning hammers is what i do." just remember the comma. and it never hurts to say please. "god, please damn this."2012
that's right, earthlings. we are all going to die on december 21st, 2012. merlin the wizard predicted it and so did the mayans. i'm inclined to believe the mayans. they seemed to have their act together. any prognostication of impending doom foreseen by religious types always seems ridiculous (don't think we didn't notice the lack of armageddon around 2000a.d., christians. that must be hard to swallow. everyone still alive mocking you and your vengeful god with every breath they take. flaunting their existence right in your face instead of perishing and burning for eternity in the pits of hell...like the good lord intended.) the mayans, although they sacrificed virgins and cut the beating hearts out of people to appease the gods, had a pretty solid calendar. which is something we can't say. 365 days here. 366 days there. who adds an extra day every four years? how sloppy is that? "uh, i think i forget to carry a remainder. can we just throw in a bonus day every four years?" sure. why not. we'll call it a leap year. not the mayans. their calendar was as accurate as their prediction for the end of the world. december 21st, 2012. mark it down. i can only hope jesus is planning his much anticipated resurrection to be on his birthday in 2012. boy is his face going to be red when he shows up and sees this place totally apocalypsed.Rabbits' Feet
it's odd what lengths people will go to for good luck. like carrying around the foot of a cute little dead rabbit. which they've have been doing since 600 b.c.. people stopped believing in mythology and yet still believe in rabbits' feet. supposedly it's a symbol of fertility because rabbit's coitus each other so much. evidently it's working. we're giving the rabbits a run for their money breeding-wise. it's surprising the foot would be good luck. you would think a random animal part popping into the equation would hault any fertility happenings. "is that a foot? no you cannot buy me a drink, you sick bastard. oh, it's good luck? to what? get in my pants?! beat it jerk! go pop out a marmot's eye for good luck or skin a hamster, you creepy weirdo." but no. it's working. the best story of why the foot may be lucky is the one that says if a cross-eyed person kills a rabbit on a full moon, and cuts off their left foot, and carries it in their left pocket it's good luck. that's awesome. but isn't anything a cross-eyed person does that requires hand-eye coordination pretty lucky?Mascots
who invented mascots? and how did they get to where they are today? i can understand naming your team after something you have. "we're the bulls. we're the buffaloes." and so on. something powerful. something you can bring to the game with you and keep on the sideline just to remind the other team who they're dealing with. "that's right, yokels, we're the bulldogs. just like this fella here. deal with it." and everyone wants to have a tough mascot. but you can't bring an alligator to the sidelines, or a swarm of bees, or an actual pack of wolves...which would be mega. so, let's do the next best thing - get some clown to dress up like one of them and do all kinds of flips and what have you. nonsense. i guess i'm throwbacky. i only want actual mascots. they don't have to do flips to look menacing. how great would it be to see some dude wearing tights do a double back flip through a ring of fire and dunk a basketball, only to have the bejesus rammed out of him by a sheep?World's Greatest Grandpa
i'm sure by now everyone has heard the story of the austrian guy who locked his daughter in a dungeon-like basement for 24 years and fathered six children with her...thus eliminating himself from contention in the world's best grandpa and world's best dad competition in one fell swoop. he locked her down there when she was eighteen. "i guess i'm an adult now. guess i'll go try my hand at life." "well, it's going to be tough when you're living in the basement, sweetie." and the next twenty-four years spent underground. just know if your twenties or thirties aren't going that well, it could be worse. the weirdest thing about the story is that the mother claimed she knew nothing of the whole ordeal. she thought the girl had run off and joined a cult. even though every couple of years gramps would bring one of the little scamps up to live with them. nothing? that raised no curiosity? "you found another child?! you find more kids than anyone i've ever met." no one's that naive. maybe he's just the best liar that's ever lived. "why do you keep going down to the basement?! what on earth is so important down there? and why do you have so many groceries?" "mind your god damn business. i like food!" in her defense, who sees a fella with some extra groceries and jumps to that conclusion? "what are the extra tomatoes for? are you keeping our only daughter locked in the basement and fathering children with her while i'm not looking? answer me! if you think i'm o.k. with that, you are mistaken, mister!"Inbred Man Cures Cancer!
Alexander Fritzl (left) pictured with his brother Amadeus Fritzl has reportedly discovered the cure for cancer and will be awarded the Nobel Prize. Alexander has been working on the cure for the better part of his life and said, "I knew this was possible. I'm so happy" -A.P. 2008is this a headline you would like to read someday? sure. who wouldn't? the cure for cancer, finally. the only problem is that it would create a whole new set of problems for abortion rights. every now and again a state (utah and wyoming) gets very close to making abortion completely illegal even in cases of incest and rape. but even the pro-est of lifers are against that, so the bill usually fails...narrowly. but when incestual rape produces the cure for cancer it might not be so simple. "hell, you can't abort that kid. fritzl's his own mama's half-brother, and he cured cancer! can't be all bad." so, even though these kids have been raised in a basement and have had pretty horrible lives thus far...i think if you're for abortion, you have to root for them to have unsuccessful lives. i hope you can sleep at night. if you can't, go tire yourself out kicking three-legged puppies, you heartless bastard.
Horseshoe Luck vol.1
no one really knows why a horseshoe is lucky. some say they're made of iron which keeps fairies from entering your home. one - who's afraid of fairies? and two - horsehoes are made of steel these days, so who knows how many fairies might be confidently strutting around your house mocking your horseshoe. some say the seven holes in a horseshoe are lucky. horseshoes these days come pre-made with eight holes so no dice. then there's a little parable about a blacksmith forging some shoes for the devil (which is absurd to put horse shoes on the devil, who as we all know, has cloven hooves). why did the devil need to rely on a simple blacksmith when he has plenty of minions to do his bidding? he certainly has enough fire. anyway, the blacksmith makes the shoes and they burn the devil's feet. now the devil is afraid of horseshoes? the devil, afraid of heat? absurd. and how is that good luck? just because the devil is afraid of your shoe above your door, that doesn't mean bad stuff can't happen. luck. why are they lucky? like all superstitions, it probably started with a dude having some good luck. some guy finds a horsehoe. for no reason decides, "this is good luck". something good inexplicably happens. his friends notice. "it worked for steve. i'm getting one." and despite the amount of rust poisoning, accidental cuts, and overall bad luck they experience, the horseshoe - along with the rabbit's foot - remains good luck.Horseshoe Luck vol.2
do you hang a horseshoe upside down or rightside up? does the shoe hold the good luck in or pour the bad luck out? you have to find the horseshoe for it to be lucky? and it has to be a shoe that was on a horse? that doesn't sound real lucky for the person riding the horse the shoe fell off of. the shoes falls off, the horse chips its feet until it can no longer walk, the horse eventually gives up and lays down stranding the rider who crawls on his stomach for miles before dying of dehydration. years later you find the cursed shoe and what else could it be but good luck? i wonder how many arrow heads had a similar existence. riding home to propose to the love of his life, a man accidentally rides into hostile indian territory and is subsequently shot through the chest with an arrow. probably the unluckiest day of his life. days pass as the animals scavenge the flesh from his body. decades pass as the bones decompose leaving only the arrowhead. and who should come along to find this fateful arrow of death? why it's the luckiest person alive!All Right, Life
here is how i feel about life. we are not necessarily best friends, but we have a mutual respect for one another. but now life, you have crossed a line. you have stolen an idea from me, and that is where i draw the line. last month i put dolphin trainer on my website, and now this month i read the news to find this story? are you really that desperate that you would hack a moderate cartoon such as this? shame on you, life. sincere shame. if you have to steal from me, you are not really trying.Zombies
i don't know if zombies count as afterlife. i don't know if you can become a zombie. your deceased corpse is reanimated. are you a part of it? or are you a lame ghost up above watching someone else control your body like a stolen car? maybe that's why their motor skills are typically so bad. if i could be my own zombie, i'd eat more brains than any zombie there's ever been. why do they get these low-rent, unskilled zombie drivers? i hope my body doesn't get inhabited by a corpse driver after i'm dead. and more so, i hope i don't have to watch it. watch him clumsily steer around in a feeble attempt to get some brains while the towns folk jab at my precious body with pointy pitch forks and shoot at it with shotguns. seeing someone use your body as a zombie would be like watching some inept clown pile into your ex-girlfriend...only much more personal. know this zombie operators: if you drive my body, you'd better eat a lot of brains. if i'm a ghost, i'll help you rampage, but i'm not sure as a ghost i can do much more than bang pots and pans and slam doors.Afterlife vol.3
is ghost an option in the afterlife? or is it a glitch? and if it is a choice, who chooses ghost? you have the opportunity to explore the great beyond, perhaps learn a little more about the entire dynamic of the universe, life and everything, and you choose to be a ghost? "i'd rather stick around earth and bang some pots and pans." lame. even if you mean well. "i want to watch over my loved ones." neat. but then you have nothing to talk about when they die. "what have you been up to since you died?" "watching you." "oh, well i've been..." "i know what you've been up to. i've been watching you." "oh...right. well, why didn't you help me avoid that car accident?" then awkward silence for eternity. shame on you.Deportes
shut up espn deportes. i don't care about soccer. "do you like sports? do you like the scores delivered to you in broken english? well, you'll love espn deporrrtes." i've never been watching sportscenter and thought, "i wish an immigrant would pop in and give me some soccer scores."Losers
all the teams i root for suck. and i kind of like that. now i see why it was fun to be a red sox fan before they won a world series. it must suck to be an old fan now. now that every casual, band wagon fan decked out in red sox paraphernalia can waltz into any bar and go on and on about manny and big papi and all the old classic players like j.d. drew. that must really suck. they weren't agonizing through every game. they didn't want to kill bill buckner...or even know who he was. they just like back slapping and high-fiving. it's kind of fun to root for bad teams because anyone you see rooting for them is undeniably a fan. you know they're not pretending to be a fan just to fit in. using your team like a tramp to make new friends. old man at the bar quietly watching the game in the corner in an '85 bears shirt? or the young kid high-fiving everyone in an urlacher jersey? trick question. the kid is really a barnacle trying to attach to something good to feel better about himself.Hurricane Dave
what would you do if they named a hurricane after you? would you root for it? i think you would. you don't want to be associated with a lame hurricane. "hurricane mike limped into town today and pissed all over its feet." especially if you're a boxer. "in this corner - hurricane mike smith!" and everyone's laughing and carrying on as they do. jerks. they always name themselves after just the event. the hurricane. the tornado. not all hurricanes and tornadoes are violent. why not name yourself after a specific one? "in this corner - mike 'hurricane katrina' smith!" no more laughing. only fear on their faces. "in this corner - eric 'the 2004 indian ocean earthquake' jones!" just a thought.sincerely,
dave 'the 1921 soviet union drought' huntsberger
Afterlife vol.1
vampires can't see their own reflection in the mirror. that sucks. how is their appearance always so pristine? are vampires inherently tidy? does their hair comb itself? and what a terrible curse. immortality, so long as you avoid the sun, sticks, and silver stuff, and yet you can never see how kick ass and menacing you look. where does the confidence come from? when was the last time you saw a real cocky blind person? maybe they get their confidence from seeing the look on people's faces before they bite them, or reaching in their mouth and feeling around. "oh, nice. these feel like fangs. sick. perfect for piercing skin and getting me some delicious blood...which inexplicably sounds delicious. heads up jerks!" and then before long, you're a fully confident, functioning vampire. those first few days must be tough though. like vampire puberty. "who am i? what's this new stuff? how do i use it?" if anyone can sympathize with pubescent girls...it's vampires.Vampires (continued)
i had to google how to spell pubescent, so i'm sure i'm now on a watch list. anyhoo, vampires are killed in the same manner as werewolves, right? silver knife, silver bullet, or sharpened stick. that's a pretty big price drop. "i need a thousand dollars...or whatever pocket change you have." it seems like that would create a weird class dichotomy. the only ones who can afford silver bullets - rich folk. the only people who would save up and actually spend money on silver bullets - blue collar gun nuts. and if it comes to the stick, only resourceful poor people would know how to handle them, thus forcing rich folks to pay exorbitant sums for their services. basically, it seems like vampire/werewolf outbreak equals good news for the lower class. if only hurricane katrina had produced vampires.Afterlife vol.2
why are vampires not a choice for reincarnation? only animals? weak. whales=sweet. bears=sweet. cobras=sick. even though, like a vampire, cobras can't see themselves in the mirror. and snakes aren't looked upon kindly. "destined to roam the earth on their belly" and so forth. like snakes are pussies. say that to a cobras face. the real reason not to select cobra from the reincarnation menu is the inability to see your reflection. a cobra knows it's a cobra, but it can't look in the mirror on a bad day and go, "oh, right. i'm a cobra." dolphins are all gay. whales have things living on them. if you're into that, you may as well come back as earth. and bears get hunted too much. the real cutie and unsung hero of reincarnation who gets no consideration - the skunk. no one picks the skunk or even thinks of skunks unless they're smelling one. you can see yourself in the mirror, and above all you have an almost superhero-like ability to stink up the joint...for miles. even from beyond the grave. "didn't see me casually crossing the road as you reached down for your cell phone, huh? well, enjoy my stink for the next few miles, you prick!" how many times have you wanted to do that? instant revenge, non-violent conflict resolution. a world of skunks is a lot more peaceful. the worst thing that can happen to you is a fogging, or a skunk bite. and why would you ever bite someone if you could fart on them and have it linger on them for days? in closing, skunks are peaceful, revengy and sweet.Anti-American
this is america. you can replace the period after that sentence with an exclamation point if you'd like. this is america, and so is canada. so is mexico, and costa rica, and brazil and argentina. the americas. north central and south. and yet we are the only ones who call ourselves americans. the americas - all named after some stupid italian who thought he'd discovered them 100 years after columbus thought he'd discovered them. we are the united states of america! boom. exclamation. of is the key word in our name. of america. if you're friends of steve, you're not steve.Theatre of Words
i'm afraid we've all had enough puns and playing on words. "i tried ice cream for the first time...they found it not guilty." stop it. die a fiery death. we get it. words have different meanings sometimes. finding them and applying them to sentences doesn't make you funny. it only makes people want to punch your face. that being said. here are some beauties:
"sometimes when i get angry, i say a lot of words and develop a speech impediment. you might say i get pithy."
"when i stab people in the back, i tend to pronounce silent letters. you could say i'm conniving."
Super Elrod
earth is blowing up, and you are sent to another planet where the inhabitants are called 'elrods'. elrods can be shot and killed with marshmallows. their top speed is a brisk walk. they can't jump over a phone book, and falling into even the shallowest of ditches is catastrophic. but you are still you. you block marshmallows with ease, jump over ditches and phone books effortlessly, and run faster than their fastest vehicle...which is a golf cart. would you allow them to call you 'superelrod'? i doubt it. i doubt you'd want to ever help them. you'd have such a poor opinion of them after constantly saving them from the likes of marshmallows and shallow ditches. "really?! you fell in a ditch again?! this is pathetic." i doubt you'd show up in tights and carry on like a big deal. "it's superelrod! able to leap phone books, block a speeding marshmallow, and run faster than a golf cart!" would you show off? "look how marshmallows bounce off of me!" can't blame you for doing that. probably feels better than getting cut from the basketball team back on earth. now, go get some tights.cpomehrnseoin
ptrety wlid taht you can raed tihs, rgiht? tehy say taht if the frsit and lsat ltertes are in the rgiht pacle, and the nmuber of ltetres are aslo crorcet, tehn inpxlaiclbey flkos are albe to raed it. i'm not bniuyg it tohugh. who's wtih me?Double Negative
people are quick to bring up my negativity, but they seem to always forget my unwavering pessimism. i wish the world would come to an end - a pretty negative thought. but i'm pessimistic that will happen anytime soon ...despite our best efforts. instead, you'll have to live through countless atrocities and watch everyone close to you die one at a time. that seems much more depressing. a giant tidal wave sweeping over everyone all at once doesn't sound so bad compared to that, does it? i'd go summon a meteor, but i'm not that ambitious.Easter, Jesus, Candy and Santa
easter celebrates the resurrection of jesus of nazareth three days after his death. and what better way to celebrate than with an equally unbelievable story of a giant rabbit that roams around dropping decorative eggs in strategic locations around your yard. why a bunny? no one knows. kids dig it. someone coming back from the dead seems pretty unbelievable...but not compared to a giant, egg-hiding bunny that gives you chocolate and peeps. "three days after one of the most savage beatings in human history, your lord came back to life...now have some chocolate - compliments of a rabbit." "wait, he came back to life? i thought when you died, that you couldn't...ooh, peeps. thanks, giant rabbit!" people are less likely to question things when there are chocolate and presents around. "and to celebrate the birth of our lord, whose mother was a virgin, a great big fat guy flies around the world in a sleigh, powered by flying reindeer. which, as you know, have no wings. he slides down the chimney and leaves toys under your tree...if you've been good." "wait, i thought for a woman to get pregnant, a man had to...a slingshot!? thanks, giant fat guy!" the really amazing part is that later, when you tell them the rabbit and fat guy aren't real, they believe anything you say ever again.Shut up, Eskimos
eskimos like to be called inuits. no one really knows that because eskimos aren't really mad enough about it to do anything...other than make you feel like a bigot if you call them one. as long as there are eskimo pies, you are eskimos. no one who is really mad about a racial slur allows it to be used in the name of a snacky treat. everyone can relate to a word inexplicably making you angry if for no other reason than being called it over and over. like when hawaiians call white folks 'howlie'. after a while, you're like "stop calling me howlie!". but if they had howlie pie, no one would be that mad. you have to have horrible atrocities attached to the slur to make it count. like slavery, or the holocaust. until then, zip it ice weirdos. that goes for you too, midgets. why would you want to be called 'little people'? that sounds so plain. howlie, cracker, eskimo, and midget are all on the same level of offensiveness. granted, the tossing was bad, but the seven dwarves and the wizard of oz made up for that. if you'd rather be called 'human ponies', i'm listening.Captain Nothing
how dare you, captain crunch! how dare you. captain?! if anyone is captaining the crunch boat, it's a little something called cinnamon toast. dominating you in every facet of being cereal and not leaving the inside of your mouth coated in a light yellow schlack that lingers throughout the day in a desperate plea to force you to remember the breakfast you ate. little, yellow, mini bale of hay crunch at best.And Your Name Is?
is it indian? or native american? indian sucks because columbus gave them that name after he thought he'd landed in the indies. landed in the wrong spot and still has the nerve to call them indians - what a jerk. "hi, i'm atzi. i'm an aztec." "yeah, sure thing, indian. why don't you be an ace and grab my suitcase." like someone who calls everyone 'guy'. learn a dudes name, could ya? but what is their name? not native americans. america was named after they were already here. that's like the gunderson family moving into your house. even though you fight for it, they have better weapons and cheat. give you blankets with small pocks and so forth. gentlemen-like. then, years later, they let you move back into a small corner in the back of your yard. "it's cool. it was originally their land. they're native gundersons." screw the gundersons. it's your yard. what was it called?Title/Heading
greetings,paragraph predicate subject suffix. modifier adjective plural noun conjugate preposition adverb verb. introduction, body, closing. letters, words, sentences.
salutations,
name