Marshmallows were falling from the sky. But only on 2nd street. Why was it raining marshmallows you ask?
On 2nd street there lived a little boy named Billy Bob-Jack Jimmy-Jack Sammy Hutton-Schultz, but everyone called him Davey. And Davey loved marshmallows.
He absolutely adored them.
One day while eating marshmallows and sitting on his sister's hello kitty bean bag, his favorite radio station 95.5 MRSH announced a contest. All you had to do was call in and answer the question and you would receive and extra special prize. The question? On average how many marshmallows come in a bag?
Of course Davey knew this answer immediately. He’d eaten through enough marshmallow bags to damn up the Hudson. Davey called in. “Two hundred thirty three if they’re little, and Sixty seven if they’re big.”
He of course won the extra special prize. Five hundred pounds of marshmallows. Since marshmallow are light and fluffy you can only imagine how much this was.
When Davey's prize arrived, he had no place to put them but the roof of his apartment building. Out in the open like that, anyone could come and take a bag. Anyone at all! Davey grew very paranoid that everyone was after his marshmallows. He would not share with anyone let alone let anyone up on the roof, beating other residents away with broom. He even yelled obscene things at pigeons who were merely sitting by the marshmallows taking a rest.
The landlord told his parents to get him under control or they’d be evicted, but Davey barricaded the roof door with marshmallows and deck chairs and refused to open it. Davey became very greedy with his marshmallows and would not share with anyone.
Down the street lived an old woman with 750 cats. Everyone joked that she was a witch, but that’s only because they didn’t know she actually was.
One day, one of the old witch’s cats managed to make it to the roof, where he immediately began to pounce and claw at the marshmallow bags. Davey, crazed from living off of nothing but spun sugar for days, swatted the cat with the broom. The cat went flying over the building tops, getting stuck in a tree in the park, so frightened it refused to come down for a whole day, causing the old witch to go looking for it.
When she found the poor distressed dear, she used her magic to surmise what had happened.
Davey awoke the next morning to the witch sitting atop his marshmallow pile.
He stared at her.
She stared at him.
Then she popped a marshmallow in her mouth.
Davey screamed. "Get your hands off my marshmallows!" He wielded his broomstick and began leaping and climbing up the bags of marshmallows at impressive sugar fueled speed.
Just as Davey was about to strike the witch she laughed a merciless laugh and clapped her hands together.
In an instant the marshmellow bags exploded beneath them, filling the sky.
Of course they began to fall back down; hence it was raining marshmallows.
Children and adults alike danced in the streets with their mouths open wide celebrating.
Davey sat on his roof and cried.
The witch came, placed her hand on the dear boy’s shoulder and whispered a secret into his ear.
Davey never ate another marshmallow again, and the snacks he did eat, he always thus shared.
Thursday, March 29, 2018
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Free Ebook
A Short Stack of Silly Shorts for the Morally Sidetracked, the first and so far only, collection of Silly Stories is on sale for FREE between August 10th, 2016 to August 15th, 2016 on Amazon.
Get a good dose of nonsense before the summer ends!
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Or buy the print book for only $4.99.
Detailed review here.
Get a good dose of nonsense before the summer ends!
Download Now.
Or buy the print book for only $4.99.
Detailed review here.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Classic Silly Story of the Month: The Asshole Pill
This classic silly story is a bit dark in nature, and perhaps goes too much in the way of "A Modest Proposal" but it was a requested story at the time, and with a few small updates perhaps isn't as offensive as it was in its former version. But, that is for you to decide.
Silly Story 112
The Asshole Pill: A Public Service Announcement
It has become an imposingly obvious intrusion upon the mind that the once societal world has become over run with an abundance of assholes. Such things would make one want to retreat from society, or the strands of which still remain, and bring on natural selection.
Natural selection of course being the natural way of doing things until bumbling humans (most likely assholeic in nature or at least nonassholes who were short sighted in their efforts) removed its necessity, preserving it only for the furred, feathered, and scaled. It is even such that the furred, feathered, and scaled are often saved from this brutal form of purification by more bumbling humans. It is this kindness by nonassholes that actually perpetuates the asshole problem, however. We must save them for they cannot save themselves.
You would think such kindness would be rewarded; however, only the assholeic in nature are the ones that are truly protected in natural selection's absence. If you are somehow lost in this scientific but simply described parade of words you are either assholeic in nature or you need to read it again slowly and calmly and be glad we’re not sticking you in a safe that is slowly sinking to the ocean floor.
Now understanding (or not) this difficult concept, you can understand that a perturbed little creature named Sarah had taken great notice upon this. If you are well read in such popular and scholarly readings such as Silly Stories, you would remember her friendly tale of enlightenment. In short, she knows the meaning of life. However, even something as pure and gratifying as that was not enough to block out the surging increase of assholes. (Alas she was not as thick as the famed penguin Joe.)
So, Sarah made a call to a little known dabbler in pharmaceuticals, other wise known as Marv. He made a simple, somber, straightforward request and went back to her smiley self. Marv got to work right away. She had been considering ditching pharmaceuticals to go into massage therapy, but no genius could turn down Sarah's brilliant request.
So 14 weeks, 2 days, 12 hours, 6 minutes, and 2.5 seconds later, Marv had created the Darwin pill. The Darwin pill is composed of a numerous amount of sedatives, things we can't pronounce unless we were well trained pharmacists, a load of special ingredients, and fragments of M&M's. This special little blue hazed tablet is other wise known as The Asshole Pill. If an asshole should take it, he should die within the hour. It is considered by many that this is natural selection’s way of evening things out. If the said person is dumb enough to take it, then he truly is assholeic in nature and deserves what is coming to him. There is no fear of anyone non-assholeic in nature to attempt consuming the pill. For again, if you are dumb enough to, you deserve what is coming. Children are also put off by it's foul smell and taste and spit it out if they should come across it by accident; if the child fails to do so, it is safely assumed they would have grown into an asshole. And all is well.
In a further attempt to make the Asshole Pill marketable, the labeling designers have been quite blunt about the pill and its purpose. There is no hidden trick. Yet, test subjects proved that despite clear warning signs, they somehow felt themselves immune or above such things as science. It is not their fault. We’ve protected them for so long and they think so highly of themselves, it is the only logical conclusion. But I digress. Despite clear warnings, the assholes would consume the pill anyway. 100% of the time. For assholes who could not read, a delightfully clear illustration is printed on the back of the bottle and again on the pill itself.
A few assholes tried to pawn their pills off on those who were not assholes. They were somehow in denial about the definition of an asshole, and seeing those not-actual-assholes survive, took it upon themselves to consume the pill.
Despite these extensive studies and clear labeling ethics, the Asshole pill is being held off the market by certain religious factions, those who do not understand its necessity, and a plenty of Assholes. However, one of the trucks transporting the special med got, lost as it were. And you may purchase an Asshole pill down any dark alley, small closet, or just call Sarah or Marv.
WARNING: If you have an overly bad feeling about this pill or have a sudden craving for it, you may be an asshole and you should call Sarah or Marv IMMEDIATELY for a better diagnoses. Thank you and have a nice day.
UPDATE: While the pill is still being held off the market, many have started to suggest an asshole rehabilitation program be put into effect immediately. This of course is the preferable course of action, and not a new idea. As you can imagine, despite our efforts for nearly all of civilization to make such a program successful, it continues to be thwarted by assholes.
The End
Moral: You're either born an asshole, or you work at it your whole life. Either way it works out fine, cause you'll get an asshole pill some dark and stormy night.
Silly Story 112
The Asshole Pill: A Public Service Announcement
It has become an imposingly obvious intrusion upon the mind that the once societal world has become over run with an abundance of assholes. Such things would make one want to retreat from society, or the strands of which still remain, and bring on natural selection.
Natural selection of course being the natural way of doing things until bumbling humans (most likely assholeic in nature or at least nonassholes who were short sighted in their efforts) removed its necessity, preserving it only for the furred, feathered, and scaled. It is even such that the furred, feathered, and scaled are often saved from this brutal form of purification by more bumbling humans. It is this kindness by nonassholes that actually perpetuates the asshole problem, however. We must save them for they cannot save themselves.
You would think such kindness would be rewarded; however, only the assholeic in nature are the ones that are truly protected in natural selection's absence. If you are somehow lost in this scientific but simply described parade of words you are either assholeic in nature or you need to read it again slowly and calmly and be glad we’re not sticking you in a safe that is slowly sinking to the ocean floor.
Now understanding (or not) this difficult concept, you can understand that a perturbed little creature named Sarah had taken great notice upon this. If you are well read in such popular and scholarly readings such as Silly Stories, you would remember her friendly tale of enlightenment. In short, she knows the meaning of life. However, even something as pure and gratifying as that was not enough to block out the surging increase of assholes. (Alas she was not as thick as the famed penguin Joe.)
So, Sarah made a call to a little known dabbler in pharmaceuticals, other wise known as Marv. He made a simple, somber, straightforward request and went back to her smiley self. Marv got to work right away. She had been considering ditching pharmaceuticals to go into massage therapy, but no genius could turn down Sarah's brilliant request.
So 14 weeks, 2 days, 12 hours, 6 minutes, and 2.5 seconds later, Marv had created the Darwin pill. The Darwin pill is composed of a numerous amount of sedatives, things we can't pronounce unless we were well trained pharmacists, a load of special ingredients, and fragments of M&M's. This special little blue hazed tablet is other wise known as The Asshole Pill. If an asshole should take it, he should die within the hour. It is considered by many that this is natural selection’s way of evening things out. If the said person is dumb enough to take it, then he truly is assholeic in nature and deserves what is coming to him. There is no fear of anyone non-assholeic in nature to attempt consuming the pill. For again, if you are dumb enough to, you deserve what is coming. Children are also put off by it's foul smell and taste and spit it out if they should come across it by accident; if the child fails to do so, it is safely assumed they would have grown into an asshole. And all is well.
In a further attempt to make the Asshole Pill marketable, the labeling designers have been quite blunt about the pill and its purpose. There is no hidden trick. Yet, test subjects proved that despite clear warning signs, they somehow felt themselves immune or above such things as science. It is not their fault. We’ve protected them for so long and they think so highly of themselves, it is the only logical conclusion. But I digress. Despite clear warnings, the assholes would consume the pill anyway. 100% of the time. For assholes who could not read, a delightfully clear illustration is printed on the back of the bottle and again on the pill itself.
A few assholes tried to pawn their pills off on those who were not assholes. They were somehow in denial about the definition of an asshole, and seeing those not-actual-assholes survive, took it upon themselves to consume the pill.
Despite these extensive studies and clear labeling ethics, the Asshole pill is being held off the market by certain religious factions, those who do not understand its necessity, and a plenty of Assholes. However, one of the trucks transporting the special med got, lost as it were. And you may purchase an Asshole pill down any dark alley, small closet, or just call Sarah or Marv.
WARNING: If you have an overly bad feeling about this pill or have a sudden craving for it, you may be an asshole and you should call Sarah or Marv IMMEDIATELY for a better diagnoses. Thank you and have a nice day.
UPDATE: While the pill is still being held off the market, many have started to suggest an asshole rehabilitation program be put into effect immediately. This of course is the preferable course of action, and not a new idea. As you can imagine, despite our efforts for nearly all of civilization to make such a program successful, it continues to be thwarted by assholes.
The End
Moral: You're either born an asshole, or you work at it your whole life. Either way it works out fine, cause you'll get an asshole pill some dark and stormy night.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Miss Red: The Really Real Story of Little Red Riding Hood
Everyone has told and re-told and re-told again the story of Little Red Riding Hood. There are even versions where Little Red Riding Hood seduces the wolf in order to birth the first werewolf – not kidding here! But really what surprises me more isn't the insane number of versions there are out there but how intact the story manages to stay over all this time.
I mean, think about that game Telephone where you whisper a message into your friend's ear and they pass it one and so forth until you get to the end and it is something completely new. That's the fun of it after all, and there are probably a few people in the line who intentionally garble the message to make it more interesting.
Well, that's how real life works too, and I would continue to be impressed if it wasn't for the matter that most of the story isn't even accurate. You've got a little girl dressed all in red skipping off into the woods to deliver food to Grandma. Somewhere along the way, she is pursued by a wolf, and a confrontation happens at Grandma's house. This is what they all agree on.
Well as the great great great great great great great great granddaughter of Little Miss Red herself and the owner of her diary, I'm here to tell you that the whole thing is basically bullocks.
First of all, Red isn't a color or a nickname. It is our family name. Her name actually was Sylvia Red, and she wasn't no itsty bitsy thing either. Nor was she a teenage seductress. She was 12. The cloak is just ridiculous and so is the hat. What fool goes into the woods wearing the brightest colors possible? This wasn't exactly in the time of search and rescue, and if that were the case, she'd probably be known as Miss Orange or Miss Fluorescent Yellow. In fact, fashion was such a nonissue she doesn't even mention what she was wearing in her diary.
The woman she was delivering to wasn't her grandma either. She was just an old lady that lived in the woods that the village people took turns checking in on. Before the old broad got all tired and out of sorts, she was like a pillar of the community or something. Everyone called her Grand-mere. Anyhow, it was a sad story but the poor old dear was practically completely insane by the time Miss Red made her oh so famous trip.
Now here's the biggest surprise yet! There was no wolf. Yeah, you heard me. No wolf. First of all, wolves only bothered you if they were starved anyway, which just wasn't the case in this area. Secondly, people had more an issue with bears and the occasional snake or wild boar. Foxes were wily but would run if they saw you, so unless you had chickens they weren't an issue.
No, Miss Red arrived at Grand-mere's in tact and a bit bored.
So what's the big deal, you ask? Well, when my great great great great great great great great grandma got to Grand-mere's house, Grand-mere was outside running around naked, chasing chickens, and howling at the moon, even though it was high noon. Miss Red tried to calm her down, but Grand-mere simply barked at her, then plopped in the dirt, and performed an illicit and pathetic attempt to lick her own butt.
Eventually, Miss Red was able to lure the old broad in by taunting her with one of the more docile chickens. She felt sorry for the old woman and decided that she would tell the town people that only she would take care of her anymore. You see, this was a time where you could be burned for being a witch or some crazy nonsense, and my so many greats grandmother just didn't think that a fitting end for Grand-mere. So she continued to make trips and help the old woman out. This lasted for about a year. But soon, Grand-mere started to sneak off at night and raid people's farms. She never did any harm, just startled the animals and scarred a few young lads brave enough to investigate only to be rewarded by seeing her wrinkly, wobbly fanny by light of the moon.
But after another year, people began to talk you see. So what Miss Red did was admittedly a bit drastic. She decided to disguise herself as a wolf and go tell Grand-mere that she made a horrible woodland creature and to return to being a person. So that is what she did. Only it didn't work. Grand-mere actually had the nerve to argue with her. Well, they got into a big old fight and Grand-mere ran away naked into the woods, this time in broad daylight. So Miss Red chased her, in her costume, straight to and then straight through town.
It was quite a hallalopp since it was market day in the square. Vegetables were tossed and more people were scarred by the day-lit nudity. Oh, and you should have heard the shirking when they saw what they thought was a wolf running on two legs. Clearly, this is what had been scaring the old lady out of the woods every night. Probably harassing her whenever she bathed (they bathed outside you see).
So people did what they always did in big groups and they freaked the fuck out. They sent a woodsman to guard Grand-mere's door and set up nightly hunts for this monster wolf. Well, the woodsman sent his son instead. He was still good with an axe, but the woodsman didn't beleive in a big walking talking wolves, especially ones that squealed like little girls when vegetables smacked into it. Well the woodsman's son –and this part of the story is true – was very fetching and quite sweet. So Miss Red simply explained the situation to him, and they both worked together to keep Grand-mere's craziness both under-wraps and confined to her own yard. Between the two of them they were able to keep her nightly runs down to the area around her cabin. They grew quite found of each other over the years, given all the time they spent watching the old lady.
Now, I can't tell you for certain that Miss Red ever wore her wolf suit again, but I like to imagine that the bit about the Woodsman cutting her out of the wolf's belly is really referring to him sexyily ripping off Miss Red's wolf costume before making hot passionate love to her in the chicken coop. Splitting right into her if you will. (Don't freak! They were at least 16 by this point, and back then they'd be getting arranged marriages if they didn't pick their own soon anyhow.)
Afterall, he did end up being my great great great great great great great great grandfather, and Miss Red's diary becomes a bit romantic soon after their encounter.
At any rate, the hunts for the wolf eventually stopped as people became bored and convinced they'd all eaten bad imported fruit or something resulting in a shared hallucination. Don't ask me! Though I suspect Miss Red had something to do with the suggestion. Grand-mere eventually passed and there you have it. A ball of rumors passed down generation after generation. So there it is: A lot less scariness and naivety and a lot more crazy and much more sexy.
But, go ahead and believe whatever you want. Who am I to expose Grand-mere's insanity after all these years?
The End
Moral: If you want to meet the right guy, disguise yourself as a wolf and chase a crazy naked woman through the town square.
I mean, think about that game Telephone where you whisper a message into your friend's ear and they pass it one and so forth until you get to the end and it is something completely new. That's the fun of it after all, and there are probably a few people in the line who intentionally garble the message to make it more interesting.
Well, that's how real life works too, and I would continue to be impressed if it wasn't for the matter that most of the story isn't even accurate. You've got a little girl dressed all in red skipping off into the woods to deliver food to Grandma. Somewhere along the way, she is pursued by a wolf, and a confrontation happens at Grandma's house. This is what they all agree on.
Well as the great great great great great great great great granddaughter of Little Miss Red herself and the owner of her diary, I'm here to tell you that the whole thing is basically bullocks.
First of all, Red isn't a color or a nickname. It is our family name. Her name actually was Sylvia Red, and she wasn't no itsty bitsy thing either. Nor was she a teenage seductress. She was 12. The cloak is just ridiculous and so is the hat. What fool goes into the woods wearing the brightest colors possible? This wasn't exactly in the time of search and rescue, and if that were the case, she'd probably be known as Miss Orange or Miss Fluorescent Yellow. In fact, fashion was such a nonissue she doesn't even mention what she was wearing in her diary.
The woman she was delivering to wasn't her grandma either. She was just an old lady that lived in the woods that the village people took turns checking in on. Before the old broad got all tired and out of sorts, she was like a pillar of the community or something. Everyone called her Grand-mere. Anyhow, it was a sad story but the poor old dear was practically completely insane by the time Miss Red made her oh so famous trip.
Now here's the biggest surprise yet! There was no wolf. Yeah, you heard me. No wolf. First of all, wolves only bothered you if they were starved anyway, which just wasn't the case in this area. Secondly, people had more an issue with bears and the occasional snake or wild boar. Foxes were wily but would run if they saw you, so unless you had chickens they weren't an issue.
No, Miss Red arrived at Grand-mere's in tact and a bit bored.
So what's the big deal, you ask? Well, when my great great great great great great great great grandma got to Grand-mere's house, Grand-mere was outside running around naked, chasing chickens, and howling at the moon, even though it was high noon. Miss Red tried to calm her down, but Grand-mere simply barked at her, then plopped in the dirt, and performed an illicit and pathetic attempt to lick her own butt.
Eventually, Miss Red was able to lure the old broad in by taunting her with one of the more docile chickens. She felt sorry for the old woman and decided that she would tell the town people that only she would take care of her anymore. You see, this was a time where you could be burned for being a witch or some crazy nonsense, and my so many greats grandmother just didn't think that a fitting end for Grand-mere. So she continued to make trips and help the old woman out. This lasted for about a year. But soon, Grand-mere started to sneak off at night and raid people's farms. She never did any harm, just startled the animals and scarred a few young lads brave enough to investigate only to be rewarded by seeing her wrinkly, wobbly fanny by light of the moon.
But after another year, people began to talk you see. So what Miss Red did was admittedly a bit drastic. She decided to disguise herself as a wolf and go tell Grand-mere that she made a horrible woodland creature and to return to being a person. So that is what she did. Only it didn't work. Grand-mere actually had the nerve to argue with her. Well, they got into a big old fight and Grand-mere ran away naked into the woods, this time in broad daylight. So Miss Red chased her, in her costume, straight to and then straight through town.
It was quite a hallalopp since it was market day in the square. Vegetables were tossed and more people were scarred by the day-lit nudity. Oh, and you should have heard the shirking when they saw what they thought was a wolf running on two legs. Clearly, this is what had been scaring the old lady out of the woods every night. Probably harassing her whenever she bathed (they bathed outside you see).
So people did what they always did in big groups and they freaked the fuck out. They sent a woodsman to guard Grand-mere's door and set up nightly hunts for this monster wolf. Well, the woodsman sent his son instead. He was still good with an axe, but the woodsman didn't beleive in a big walking talking wolves, especially ones that squealed like little girls when vegetables smacked into it. Well the woodsman's son –and this part of the story is true – was very fetching and quite sweet. So Miss Red simply explained the situation to him, and they both worked together to keep Grand-mere's craziness both under-wraps and confined to her own yard. Between the two of them they were able to keep her nightly runs down to the area around her cabin. They grew quite found of each other over the years, given all the time they spent watching the old lady.
Now, I can't tell you for certain that Miss Red ever wore her wolf suit again, but I like to imagine that the bit about the Woodsman cutting her out of the wolf's belly is really referring to him sexyily ripping off Miss Red's wolf costume before making hot passionate love to her in the chicken coop. Splitting right into her if you will. (Don't freak! They were at least 16 by this point, and back then they'd be getting arranged marriages if they didn't pick their own soon anyhow.)
Afterall, he did end up being my great great great great great great great great grandfather, and Miss Red's diary becomes a bit romantic soon after their encounter.
At any rate, the hunts for the wolf eventually stopped as people became bored and convinced they'd all eaten bad imported fruit or something resulting in a shared hallucination. Don't ask me! Though I suspect Miss Red had something to do with the suggestion. Grand-mere eventually passed and there you have it. A ball of rumors passed down generation after generation. So there it is: A lot less scariness and naivety and a lot more crazy and much more sexy.
But, go ahead and believe whatever you want. Who am I to expose Grand-mere's insanity after all these years?
The End
Moral: If you want to meet the right guy, disguise yourself as a wolf and chase a crazy naked woman through the town square.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Classic Silly Story: Voodoo Dick:The After Effect
So, one of my most remembered classic silly stories is also one of the raunchiest. If that is the right... word. It's based on a dirty joke called Voodoo dick. So, for the purpose of understanding the story, you must first understand the joke:
The joke:
A lonely woman goes on vacation to a very far away land. In search of an authentic souvenir, she wanders into a little shop and finds a strange object in a long velvet box. The shop owner explains that it is a voodoo dick and that it will have sex with whatever you tell it to. You just need the magic words. Closing the box, the shop keeper whispers the instructions.
The woman at first thinks it is all a gag but buys it anyway because she finds it amusing. A few weeks later when she is unpacking at home, she finds the voodoo dick. Curiosity gets the best of her and she takes it out of the box and says, "voodoo dick cat." The voodoo dick springs up, finds the cat, and starts having sex with it. Shocked the woman says, "voodoo dick stop!" and it does. Then, because she still can't believe it, she says, "voodoo dick dog." The same thing happens with the dog until she says, "voodoo dick stop!" and it does. So then she thinks about it for a long time. (I also like to imagine that she sanitizes it as well.) Finally, she gets ready and says, "voodoo dick me!" And it does. And it is great, but then she wants it to stop, so she says, "voodoo dick stop!" But it doesn't! So she says it again and again, but it's not working. So she rips it out and starts to run away.
And it chases her!
She gets in her car and drives, but she can still see it hopping down the road after her, so she slams on the gas. A cop sees her speeding and pulls her over. When he gets to her window she is hysterical.
"You don't understand," she says, "I'm being chased by the voodoo dick. It won't stop. It's coming right now!"
The cop smirks, crosses his arms and says, "Yeah, sure. Voodoo dick my ass."
And that's the joke. If told properly it can be quite amusing.
Anyway, believe it or not, I wrote a story based off of that. It is as follows:
Classic Silly Story (Silly Story 129)
Voodoo Dick: The After Affect
The voodoo rested on the the therapist chair and recounted his tale.
"I can't believe they abused you like that," said the therapist.
"I know," said VD "I was so shocked. That man... in the uniform... I had never realized before that moment that I was ...."
"It's ok," said the therapist, "You can say it."
"Gay!" cried the voodoo dick "All those years of having sex with foreign women and animals... I knew I was lacking something in my job. I just wasn't satisfied. So then I thought, maybe it's because I never was satisfied. I was working for their pleasure not mine. So this last women, the idea came to me as she was pondering using me... maybe if I went until I was satisfied... well then... then maybe I could find some joy in my work."
"That's perfectly understandable," said the therapist.
"But she ran away and told me to stop. I became... is it ok? I mean I became..."
"It's ok to say it," said the therapist.
"I became angry. I was, well mad as hell and I wasn't going to take it anymore. But you see, I have to follow orders. I'd been following them for so long that when that man, the cop said..."Voodoo dick my ass!" I just obeyed... reflexes you know."
"I understand," said the therapist.
"And for the first time," said voodoo dick, "I was satisfied, me. I went first. It.. it... it was beautiful." The voodoo dick began to cry.
"It’s ok," said the therapist, "just relax and go on."
"But you know the worst part?" he went on "is that that cop... he .. he...."
"Yes? What is it?"
"He didn't even call!!!" The voodoo dick sobbed. The therapist beckoned for him to come over. The voodoo dick got out and hopped over to the therapist. He hopped right in his lap and the therapist put his arms around him. They snuggled for a few minutes while the voodoo dick collected himself.
"Some men are like that," said the therapist "but you know what voodoo... I'm not. I'm not the kind of professional that wouldn't return a call. And I know better than you think, what you are going through. You see, I'm gay too."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes. Not many people know it, but I'm completely flaming... and I think you're cute."
"Even though I don't have balls? Even though I'm basically a cheap vibrator with magical powers and the will to give great sex?"
"Oh yes, for those reasons the most. You know, I think you might be ready to begin a relationship. It would be good for you. And it so happens that I'm free..."
"Really?" said voodoo dick "Cause I thought you were pretty attractive, but you k now. The whole doctor patient relationship thing."
"Well from this moment you're cured!"
And the voodoo dick and the therapist lived happily ever after for about 2 years when the voodoo dick realized he was better than the therapist who had taken advantage of him in a weakened state. He sued for mental trauma and won everything the therapist had, including his convertible which the voodoo dick used to speed on the weekends to pick up cute gay cops.
The End
Moral:Snuggling in your therapists lap may lead to money, a convertible, and many cute gay cops.
The joke:
A lonely woman goes on vacation to a very far away land. In search of an authentic souvenir, she wanders into a little shop and finds a strange object in a long velvet box. The shop owner explains that it is a voodoo dick and that it will have sex with whatever you tell it to. You just need the magic words. Closing the box, the shop keeper whispers the instructions.
The woman at first thinks it is all a gag but buys it anyway because she finds it amusing. A few weeks later when she is unpacking at home, she finds the voodoo dick. Curiosity gets the best of her and she takes it out of the box and says, "voodoo dick cat." The voodoo dick springs up, finds the cat, and starts having sex with it. Shocked the woman says, "voodoo dick stop!" and it does. Then, because she still can't believe it, she says, "voodoo dick dog." The same thing happens with the dog until she says, "voodoo dick stop!" and it does. So then she thinks about it for a long time. (I also like to imagine that she sanitizes it as well.) Finally, she gets ready and says, "voodoo dick me!" And it does. And it is great, but then she wants it to stop, so she says, "voodoo dick stop!" But it doesn't! So she says it again and again, but it's not working. So she rips it out and starts to run away.
And it chases her!
She gets in her car and drives, but she can still see it hopping down the road after her, so she slams on the gas. A cop sees her speeding and pulls her over. When he gets to her window she is hysterical.
"You don't understand," she says, "I'm being chased by the voodoo dick. It won't stop. It's coming right now!"
The cop smirks, crosses his arms and says, "Yeah, sure. Voodoo dick my ass."
And that's the joke. If told properly it can be quite amusing.
Anyway, believe it or not, I wrote a story based off of that. It is as follows:
Classic Silly Story (Silly Story 129)
Voodoo Dick: The After Affect
The voodoo rested on the the therapist chair and recounted his tale.
"I can't believe they abused you like that," said the therapist.
"I know," said VD "I was so shocked. That man... in the uniform... I had never realized before that moment that I was ...."
"It's ok," said the therapist, "You can say it."
"Gay!" cried the voodoo dick "All those years of having sex with foreign women and animals... I knew I was lacking something in my job. I just wasn't satisfied. So then I thought, maybe it's because I never was satisfied. I was working for their pleasure not mine. So this last women, the idea came to me as she was pondering using me... maybe if I went until I was satisfied... well then... then maybe I could find some joy in my work."
"That's perfectly understandable," said the therapist.
"But she ran away and told me to stop. I became... is it ok? I mean I became..."
"It's ok to say it," said the therapist.
"I became angry. I was, well mad as hell and I wasn't going to take it anymore. But you see, I have to follow orders. I'd been following them for so long that when that man, the cop said..."Voodoo dick my ass!" I just obeyed... reflexes you know."
"I understand," said the therapist.
"And for the first time," said voodoo dick, "I was satisfied, me. I went first. It.. it... it was beautiful." The voodoo dick began to cry.
"It’s ok," said the therapist, "just relax and go on."
"But you know the worst part?" he went on "is that that cop... he .. he...."
"Yes? What is it?"
"He didn't even call!!!" The voodoo dick sobbed. The therapist beckoned for him to come over. The voodoo dick got out and hopped over to the therapist. He hopped right in his lap and the therapist put his arms around him. They snuggled for a few minutes while the voodoo dick collected himself.
"Some men are like that," said the therapist "but you know what voodoo... I'm not. I'm not the kind of professional that wouldn't return a call. And I know better than you think, what you are going through. You see, I'm gay too."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes. Not many people know it, but I'm completely flaming... and I think you're cute."
"Even though I don't have balls? Even though I'm basically a cheap vibrator with magical powers and the will to give great sex?"
"Oh yes, for those reasons the most. You know, I think you might be ready to begin a relationship. It would be good for you. And it so happens that I'm free..."
"Really?" said voodoo dick "Cause I thought you were pretty attractive, but you k now. The whole doctor patient relationship thing."
"Well from this moment you're cured!"
And the voodoo dick and the therapist lived happily ever after for about 2 years when the voodoo dick realized he was better than the therapist who had taken advantage of him in a weakened state. He sued for mental trauma and won everything the therapist had, including his convertible which the voodoo dick used to speed on the weekends to pick up cute gay cops.
The End
Moral:Snuggling in your therapists lap may lead to money, a convertible, and many cute gay cops.
Monday, July 30, 2012
The Boy Who Wanted More
Once upon a time, when life was simple, like super simple, like so simple that fashion was defined by if you wore more than one shade of brown, there was a little boy name Kutso. Kutso was not satisfied by his life, like everyone around him seemed to be. He couldn't explain why eating the same porridge every night for dinner didn't satisfy him or why going fishing didn't actually seem like that big of a deal.
The other villagers had suspected something was wrong with Kutso for quite some time. The boy just didn't seem to take much pleasure in life, and when his parents asked him what was wrong, all he could say was, "I don't know."
"Why not?" his father persisted. "It seems silly to be sad without a reason."
"There is a reason," said Kutso, " I just don't know what it is."
His mother chewed on her porridge for a moment. "Why Kutso dear, that just doesn't make any sense."
Kutso admitted that he had to agree. Though secretly, he knew what it was. He simply wanted more. More what exactly? More everything. More color, more food choices, more talking, more music, more games, more laughing, more crying, more, more, more.
So one day, Kutso set out into the woods in search of just that, more. He told his parents he was merely going camping, a concept they found strange. Who went camping for pleasure? Indeed, who needed a break from a life so simple and nice?
But off he went. Kutso journeyed into the mountains, crawled through caves, and trudged through rivers, but everything seemed to be just he same as the areas around his village.
Then, one day he emerged from a particularly dark and twisted cave to see the strangest bird he had ever seen in his life. It was bright pink with spotted green feathers on its head and stood on two tall skinny orange legs. Kutso didn't have a word for those colors, but liked them immediately.
The bird looked at Kutso and tilted its head. It squawked loudly, unlike any bird he had ever heard before, and flew away. Only then did Kutso realize that the place he was now standing in was FULL of colors, so many colors. He could not have imagined so many different flowers and plants and trees. And more animals too! Of all shapes and sizes, making an assortment of all kinds of sounds.
And, for the first time in a very long, long time, Kutso felt happy.
He ventured down further into the foliage, where he discovered a village full of people. Unlike his village where everyone had the same color skin, eyes, and hair and wore the same color of clothes, these people were multicolored. Nobody seemed to have exactly the same colored hair and their outfits were not only diverse in shades, but in styles. Kutso wondered out into the center of everything, not thinking, simply in awe. Suddenly people started to noticed him and stop and stare at him.
Kutso finally realized what was going on and became very self conscious. He had never had so many people staring at him before.
"Uh, hi," he said uncertainly waving.
The crowd burst into sound and motion, diving in on him, proclaiming him "the cutest damn thing" they had ever seen.
"He's such an autum," one said, " a true leafy winter."
Kutso had no idea what these people could possibly find fascinating about him.
"Look at those big brown eyes!" one exclaimed. "And that dark hair!" said another. "Isn't his get-up just divine? So simple. So sublime!" said yet another, "Get a look at those sandals! Tan! Tan sandals!"
They hosted a dinner in his honor that had so many different types of foods that Kutso didn't know what to do with himself. Everyone bombarded him with questions. Where did he come from? How did he get here? Was everyone in his village so adorable?
"They all look like me, if that's what you mean," Kutso said over and over again.
Then they had dessert and dancing, and by the end of the night Kutso was so tired, he barely took pleasure in the luxury feather bed he slept in that was so unlike his hay mat at home.
In the morning the people demanded that Kutso take a group of them to his village. They just had to see this adorable place he had described. Shrugging and waving his goodbyes, Kutso lead a small group all the way back to his village where they went ballistic with excitement. They just couldn't get over how quaint everything was.
The people of Kutso's village had no idea how to react. They had never even heard of anything like these crazy, colorful people. Not even in their dreams, for they also dreamed largely in brown and green tones. But the colorful people were so friendly and complimentary, it wasn't long before everyone started talking and getting along, admiring each other.
Kutso let out a sigh of relief. He had feared that they would take unkindly to these crazy different people, but instead, he found out that his people were just as bored as he was, even if they didn't know it yet. In fact, a group of them demanded to be taken to the other place to see it.
And of course, when they arrived, another group wanted to go back to his village.
In fact, for the next few years Kutso lead countless groups of people back and forth. In fact, most people started staying behind in the village that was new to them, until one day, as Kutso waited at the cave opening, ready to make yet another journey, he realized that no one was coming. A complete transplant had taken place so that everyone that lived in the colorful village, now lived in the brown village and vise versa.
At this point, Kutso didn't know what to do. It had become increasingly difficult to tell the two sets of people apart and hardly anything surprised anyone anymore. Kutso himself was indeed, growing a bit bored.
So what did he do? He set off again. This time in a new direction, in search of new things. In search of something else. In search of something more more. And he found it, again and again. And he spread the news, again and again.
And one day, when he was very old, Kutso realized he had created not a village of travelers, but a world of travelers. And his descendents were always seeking more and always finding it. And on the day he died, he watched his Great, Great grandson get into a homemade ship and fly to the moon in search of even more, and he died a very happy man.
The End
Moral: If the grass is greener one yard over, it must even greener another yard over, and another and another and another and another and another...
The other villagers had suspected something was wrong with Kutso for quite some time. The boy just didn't seem to take much pleasure in life, and when his parents asked him what was wrong, all he could say was, "I don't know."
"Why not?" his father persisted. "It seems silly to be sad without a reason."
"There is a reason," said Kutso, " I just don't know what it is."
His mother chewed on her porridge for a moment. "Why Kutso dear, that just doesn't make any sense."
Kutso admitted that he had to agree. Though secretly, he knew what it was. He simply wanted more. More what exactly? More everything. More color, more food choices, more talking, more music, more games, more laughing, more crying, more, more, more.
So one day, Kutso set out into the woods in search of just that, more. He told his parents he was merely going camping, a concept they found strange. Who went camping for pleasure? Indeed, who needed a break from a life so simple and nice?
But off he went. Kutso journeyed into the mountains, crawled through caves, and trudged through rivers, but everything seemed to be just he same as the areas around his village.
Then, one day he emerged from a particularly dark and twisted cave to see the strangest bird he had ever seen in his life. It was bright pink with spotted green feathers on its head and stood on two tall skinny orange legs. Kutso didn't have a word for those colors, but liked them immediately.
The bird looked at Kutso and tilted its head. It squawked loudly, unlike any bird he had ever heard before, and flew away. Only then did Kutso realize that the place he was now standing in was FULL of colors, so many colors. He could not have imagined so many different flowers and plants and trees. And more animals too! Of all shapes and sizes, making an assortment of all kinds of sounds.
And, for the first time in a very long, long time, Kutso felt happy.
He ventured down further into the foliage, where he discovered a village full of people. Unlike his village where everyone had the same color skin, eyes, and hair and wore the same color of clothes, these people were multicolored. Nobody seemed to have exactly the same colored hair and their outfits were not only diverse in shades, but in styles. Kutso wondered out into the center of everything, not thinking, simply in awe. Suddenly people started to noticed him and stop and stare at him.
Kutso finally realized what was going on and became very self conscious. He had never had so many people staring at him before.
"Uh, hi," he said uncertainly waving.
The crowd burst into sound and motion, diving in on him, proclaiming him "the cutest damn thing" they had ever seen.
"He's such an autum," one said, " a true leafy winter."
Kutso had no idea what these people could possibly find fascinating about him.
"Look at those big brown eyes!" one exclaimed. "And that dark hair!" said another. "Isn't his get-up just divine? So simple. So sublime!" said yet another, "Get a look at those sandals! Tan! Tan sandals!"
They hosted a dinner in his honor that had so many different types of foods that Kutso didn't know what to do with himself. Everyone bombarded him with questions. Where did he come from? How did he get here? Was everyone in his village so adorable?
"They all look like me, if that's what you mean," Kutso said over and over again.
Then they had dessert and dancing, and by the end of the night Kutso was so tired, he barely took pleasure in the luxury feather bed he slept in that was so unlike his hay mat at home.
In the morning the people demanded that Kutso take a group of them to his village. They just had to see this adorable place he had described. Shrugging and waving his goodbyes, Kutso lead a small group all the way back to his village where they went ballistic with excitement. They just couldn't get over how quaint everything was.
The people of Kutso's village had no idea how to react. They had never even heard of anything like these crazy, colorful people. Not even in their dreams, for they also dreamed largely in brown and green tones. But the colorful people were so friendly and complimentary, it wasn't long before everyone started talking and getting along, admiring each other.
Kutso let out a sigh of relief. He had feared that they would take unkindly to these crazy different people, but instead, he found out that his people were just as bored as he was, even if they didn't know it yet. In fact, a group of them demanded to be taken to the other place to see it.
And of course, when they arrived, another group wanted to go back to his village.
In fact, for the next few years Kutso lead countless groups of people back and forth. In fact, most people started staying behind in the village that was new to them, until one day, as Kutso waited at the cave opening, ready to make yet another journey, he realized that no one was coming. A complete transplant had taken place so that everyone that lived in the colorful village, now lived in the brown village and vise versa.
At this point, Kutso didn't know what to do. It had become increasingly difficult to tell the two sets of people apart and hardly anything surprised anyone anymore. Kutso himself was indeed, growing a bit bored.
So what did he do? He set off again. This time in a new direction, in search of new things. In search of something else. In search of something more more. And he found it, again and again. And he spread the news, again and again.
And one day, when he was very old, Kutso realized he had created not a village of travelers, but a world of travelers. And his descendents were always seeking more and always finding it. And on the day he died, he watched his Great, Great grandson get into a homemade ship and fly to the moon in search of even more, and he died a very happy man.
The End
Moral: If the grass is greener one yard over, it must even greener another yard over, and another and another and another and another and another...
Saturday, July 14, 2012
See Dot Run
.
See Dot.
.
She that Dot is an invisible dog, well almost invisible.
.
Everyone can see her nose.
.
See Dot run ... and fall.
.
See Dot jump . . . right smack into that invisible tree.
.
See the invisible squirrel laugh at Dot.
.
See Dot get upset.
.
See Dot chase the mean squirrel.
. "coo coo" -
See Dot get thwarted when the squirrel pretends to be an invisible pidgeon.
.
See Dot press on to find the squirrel.
.
See Dot forget what she is looking for.
.
See Dot pause in the middle of the sidewalk to think about it.
.
See invisible Bill and Jill trip over Dot.
.
See Dot happily chase the stolen money that fell out of Bill and Jill's stolen bank bag.
See Bill and Jill frantically scramble to get their money back.
See the invisible police coming!
.
See Bill fight with Dot over the money bag. See that Dot thinks it is a fun game.
"Bad dog!"
.
See Bill yell at Dot.
See Bill try to kick Dot. See Jill stop him.
.
See Dot likes Jill.
See the invisible police tackle Jill.
\/
.
See Dot's angry face.
.
See Dot attack police.
See that this gives Bill and Jill time to escape.
See Jill stop at the top of the hill, the invisible sunset darkening the sky.
"Dog!"
See Jill call Dot.
.
See Dot stop attacking police officers.
.
See Dot run.
.
See Dot join her new family as they make it to the get away car.
See them drive off into the sunset. Bye Dot!
See The End.
See Dot.
.
She that Dot is an invisible dog, well almost invisible.
.
Everyone can see her nose.
.
See Dot run ... and fall.
.
See Dot jump . . . right smack into that invisible tree.
.
See the invisible squirrel laugh at Dot.
.
See Dot get upset.
.
See Dot chase the mean squirrel.
. "coo coo" -
See Dot get thwarted when the squirrel pretends to be an invisible pidgeon.
.
See Dot press on to find the squirrel.
.
See Dot forget what she is looking for.
.
See Dot pause in the middle of the sidewalk to think about it.
.
See invisible Bill and Jill trip over Dot.
.
See Dot happily chase the stolen money that fell out of Bill and Jill's stolen bank bag.
See Bill and Jill frantically scramble to get their money back.
See the invisible police coming!
.
See Bill fight with Dot over the money bag. See that Dot thinks it is a fun game.
"Bad dog!"
.
See Bill yell at Dot.
See Bill try to kick Dot. See Jill stop him.
.
See Dot likes Jill.
See the invisible police tackle Jill.
\/
.
See Dot's angry face.
.
See Dot attack police.
See that this gives Bill and Jill time to escape.
See Jill stop at the top of the hill, the invisible sunset darkening the sky.
"Dog!"
See Jill call Dot.
.
See Dot stop attacking police officers.
.
See Dot run.
.
See Dot join her new family as they make it to the get away car.
See them drive off into the sunset. Bye Dot!
See The End.
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