Household Humour #2

OK.  On occassion I will identify who came up with it.  Just to take the heat off of myself and my lovely mentor, all right?

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I saw a store. It was called "Babies 'R' Us", though the 'R' was backward. Now I have a question. It they sell the damn things there, why not pick one up there instead of going through the process of pregnancy, with morning sickness, looking like you had a basketball implanted into your abdomen for a while, not to mention getting ripped to shreds while giving birth? It would save a fortune on medical costs, health issues, personal discomfort, etc. . .

And if you don't have one of these stores in your neighbourhood, maybe they do overnight delivery?

***

Theoretical Craigs List post:

Guillotine Operator available
No experience, but learns fast
If considered, will work out so I look good in mask and harness

***

Back in the days of bein' a corporate ho', Mullethead told me of this:

One supervisor keeps bitching about me lifting heavy loads. I'm sorry, but I do NOT consider 50 lbs. heavy, though I must admit I don't like carrying it up two flights of stairs. I don't have to do that at work, though. Still, she's always tellin' me "Use a cart!!!!!"

Anyway, I got even. Yesterday she had me make bubblewrap for the first time. So I goes, "Hey Sandra! This stuff is mighty heavy. I don't know how much longer I'm gonna last.  Will ya get me a cart?"

Couldn't hear her reply over the equipment, but it musta been a doozy. At least she didn't slap me upside after I was in reach.

***

This is a conceptual piece for those with small children. I'm not sure about actually going through with it, for it might get you somewhat arrested, but hey!

You take a small child, and tell it every day in various ways, several times a day that on its eighth birthday; it will be cooked and eaten. Like obsess on it, ya know? And a week before it turns eight, buy a bunch of spices, make a big deal of it, leave web pages up of meat grinders and such, and invite the kid to go with you to find a big enough stew pot. . .  

Can ya'll imagine????????

Aren't we glad I'm not a parent? (Heh-heh-heh.)

***

The long lost verse of 'Scarborough Faire':

Tell 'im to braid me his nose hairs grown long,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
And grow me a tail, prehensile and strong;
Then he'll be a true love of mine.

(I HOPE NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

***

Tell 'im to flare his nose into the night.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And snorfle me with all of his might,
Then he'll be a true love of mine.

(Any more of these, and somebody is gonna find themselves locked out in the snow!)

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New way to gross out small children. Or at least get them to ask very interesting questions.

Tell them pregnant women are watermelon factories.  See if they ever want to eat watermelon that night.

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Ahhhhhhh! Liberia. The first thing I'd do after the plane landed and I touched base with the ground, is yell. "Oooooh, yeah! Where's all the head hunters? I wanna scarf me some person! Where's the cauldron? Where can I buy a spear? I have been readin' in the news cannibalism is all the rage here. I mean, that's the only reason I'm here!"

What wouuuuuuuuld happen to me?

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And while I'm in my little phantasy world, I've come up with the dream wedding. How's about Ann Coulter and Henry Makow. When that concept becomes legal in the states, that is.

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Sooooooo. . .the Nazis making lampshades out of Jewish skins is a propaganda hoax, I read. People are pretty thin skinned anyway, but I wonder. Could people hides make good book covers? For like, Bibles or something?

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When you get glasses, are you considered 'reglassified'?

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Old e-mail scam:

I am Mrs. <> an aging widow suffering from long time illness. I have some funds I inherited from my late husband, the sum of US $8,400,000.00 and I needed a very honest and God fearing Christian that will use the fund for God's work, I found your email address from the internet and decided to contact you. Please if you would be able to use the funds for the Lord's work, kindly reply for further details.

If I see this one, I'm gonna reply:

I'm a baby-sacrificing Satanist who likes to eat people. Try the guy next door.

Yours;
Jezebel Baphomet

***

Ahhhh, the land of opportunity. An opportunity thrown away, though.

An old lady was running across the street, making sure she'd get the light. I coulda yelled out the window, "You can slow down, It would cost me too much to hit you."

***

If I were silly enough to sit in Santa's lap,
I'd ask for:

A quagga

An archaeopteryx

An 8 foot long, tufted prehensile ringtail

A meeting with;
Vergil Maro, Victor Hugo, Sophie Frederi. . .I mean Catherine the Great, Empress Theodora, Boadicea, Charles Dickens, Robert Burns, Oscar Wilde, James Joyce, Virginia Wolf, Mary and Percy Shelley, a loaded 30-30 to hold when I meet Elizabeth Bathory, Hadrian and Antinous.

An effigy of Geddy Lee's nose on a plaque

An I.Q. of a googleplex to the googleplexeth power

A decent Lowland Scots' accent

A nosehair coat

Omniscience

Thick, waist length nose hairs

The ability to speak college level Catonese

An Akashic Library Card

A smilodon

A unicorn

And finally; nobody eats each other.

But I ain't gonna do that, 'cause I don't think there is a Santa Clause. I think they're all imposters.

Think I'm too hard to please?

***

Mullethead at work, eons ago:

Lately their was a news story about some individual microwaving her baby. (I didn't read it.) Then several people at work mentioned the story, and they actually asked if the perpetrator had been talking to me. Of course I denied it. I also explained you do not microwave children. You have to use a conventional oven, or a crock pot.

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The Tale Of Elmeena Piddlewacker

Once when I was like workin' graveyard as a letter-shop operator for Fascist Dinglepost Corporation in San Jose, I had me this like co-worker. Couldn't stand 'er. She was five foot two, weighed around eight hundred pounds, neurotic, psychotic, and slighty removed from reality. She was always right, ya know? She was also the hardest workin', most efficient lettershop operator in existence. Or so she said, anyways.

Well, one night she went down. I turned around, her stations were empty, the machine was a'runnin', but there weren't no Elmeena mannin' it, ya know?

I let that go fo' 'bout an hour 'fore I got up to investigate.

Yup! She was down on the floor, out cold. Guess she had a heart attack or somethin'.

I turns off all the machinery so I could call my manager, and I does. I says it looks like Elmeena had 'erself a cardiac, an' aks if I should call an ambulence. My manager says yeah. So I do. AFTER I go to the bathroom.

I hunt me down a phone book. It took a while, 'cause I had to go to the front office to find one. I also had a soda 'fore I went. Then I had to like drag the phonebook to another part of the buildin' where the lightin' was better, 'cause they turn the lights off in the front at night.

I calls the hospital, and they aks fer the address. I say I can't remember, 'cause I've only been workin' here for eight years, ya know? Let me go out front and get it.

So I did. Then I go back to the phone, but I forgot it. I tell 'em I gotta go out front again, but this time I'll write it down. I did.

After the ambulence come, I take 'em to Elmeena. They can't deal with 'er, though. They couldn't pick 'er up. They said they'd have to use a forklift. I said we gots us one, but I ain't authorised to use it. One o' the amulence guys said he know how they worked, but I said I couldn't let 'im use it, 'cause 'e didn't work 'ere. He suggests I call my boss, so I did. She said he could use it.

So we moved the tables, the dude drove the forklift in, we rolled Elmeena on it with the help of a couple pieces o' wood, they loaded the ol' bat into the ambulence, an' after all that trouble I went through, the ol' bitch survived.

Still, I knew she'd be a mess, couldn't come back to work right away, and prob'ly be economically devistated when she gots back, so I wondered if she wouldn't kill 'erself from that. I started an Elmeena Piddlewacker suicide pool, with a grid of dates where people would fill in a date, and if she did 'erself in on that date, they'd win all the money. It cost one cent a square.

Well, the ol' cunt came back to work. No one won the pool, but when she found out we held the pool, she was so devastated that we thought so little of 'er, she did kill 'erself.

I won.

***

Ya know, I think it would be a trip to go down to the police station; and say, "I'm having a baby. I'm gonna raise her to be eaten. Do I need a livestock permit, and can I get one here?"

Or maybe at a family gathering, "I'm gonna have a baby, and to save money, I think I'll do it at home. Hey, I mean no problem. If it gets stuck or somethin', I gots me some pliers, ya know?"

(I SWEAR!  People like this make you glad abortion is legal in the country where she was born.)

***

(Need I say?)

Someone posted a distgusting video on STA about how sadistic the Chinese can be when killing their dogs for food and/or fur. I didn't see it 'cause this computer won't play it, but I saw other videos, so. . . Anyway, someone else flew off the handle and said we should go to war with China over this, as opposed to Afghanistan or Iraq, and how they're never going to buy another Chinese product again. (Goooooood luck.) I replied that the Chinese don't have a monopoly on cruelty. In parts of Africa (Zimbabwe is making the news a lot), they are killing both domestic and wild animals in the worst way possible, with as much suffering as possible just for the sake of killing and being sadistic. (Hey! If you're in pain, have no hope, see nothing but doom, take everything with you, huh?), seal hunts in Canada, cock fights, dog fights, racehorses that don't make it get turned into dog food, greyhounds that aren't fast enough are ruthlessly slaughtered, bullfights in Spain and Mexico, factory farming and animal cruelty is a world wide problem. Also, not all Chinese are the same.

A guy e-mails me back, and asks about what about the two legged animals slaughtering each other all over the planet.  

I reply: I'm a misanthrope. That's not happenning fast enough.

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A CONCEPT OF GOD

It is said all is one, right? On the Physical Plane, every creature alive needs to exist at the expense of something else, right? So if this be the case, God is a cannibal, right? Or . . .uh. . .an AUTO-CANNIBAL!!!!!!

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Why limit the fun to 'Mithramas'?

Said the boss to the people on the floor. . .
Do you hear what I hear?
Yes, the boss to the people on the floor. . .
Do you hear what I hear?
A nose, a nose,
Blowing 'cross the plant.
It will bring us mucus and wind,
Yes, it will bring us mucus and wiiiiiiiiiiind.
Dah-dah.

(I think I'll stop now.)

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How to get out of a 1st date NOW:
(Especially if a chick, datin' a dude.)

Say, "And Cal OSHA can suck my dick. They have a choice of 14 of them, since I've got those of my exes taxidermised on my living room wall in full glory. Wanna see 'em?"

(Glad she waited to tell me that one.)

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Not one of ours, but it fits:

An alleged Ann Coulter quote:

"I'm a Christian first and a mean-spirited, bigoted conservative second, and don't you ever forget it."

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A guy posted a picture of his schlong on a forum.

I say: Hmmmmmm! Chopped onions, chopped German dill pickles, sliced Roma tomato, butter fried 'shrooms, avacado slices, mayo, Dijon mustard. . .pumpernickel, or Jewish rye?

Another guy says: Don't eat the fuckin' thing before he's even stuck it in a lady yet .

I say: I can wait.

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This actually happened at work. My super was complaining that the lamination room was too hot, I said I agree, he said he thought he was the only one, I asked him how old he was, he said 28, I said that's too young for hot flashes, he told me to stop it.

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Another way to torture children:

Tell 'em if they hold their farts in for too long, they'll float away. But no matter how tempting it is to do that, don't. It's too hard to have a controlled landing. If you eventually fart too much, too soon, you'll be crashing back to Earth at terminal velocity, and go splat.

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I dinna ken where I come oop with this shite:

Something to ask your biology teacher:  Are farmed shrimp, like hydroponically grown?

(Mullethead again.  I do go into Scots dialect, but more as a joke.)

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I have come to the conclusion that when I have a problem with gas, I am temporarily carbonated, and when the problem goes away, I have gone flat.

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More ways to torture small children:

Tell them if they sleep on the same side every night, their brains will leak out of their ear, so they have to turn to the other side every couple of hours.

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'Nother way to get out of jury duty.

"Are you a felon?"

"Uh, is destroying U.S. currency a felony?" I'd theoretically say, as I pulled my wallet out of my pocket.

"Yes."

I take a fiver out of the wallet, and light it up. "I am now. So I don't have to do jury duty ever again?"

(As if, but it would make a hilarious sit-com scene, huh?)

Correction: I read it is illegal to mess with money for fraudulant intent. When I looked it up, it seems to be OK to have a bonfire with a few million bucks, but who's gonna do it?

Still, the joke stays, 'cause it's funny in concept, and it's like pick your own damn felony, so neener-neener.

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A person once told me:  You know the only people in this world who are always sure about the proper way to "raise" children? Those who've never had any. 

My response:

Add yeast?

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Man, that's all for now.  More later.  Gods, I couldn't remember how much there was to post when I started this.