• 16Mar 05

  sfgjseknf

  I notice that most animals don't do much. When they aren't eating, sleeping, crapping, or ****ing, a lot of them just sit there and stare into space.
  
  Now, a lot of people...when they aren't eating, sleeping, crapping, or ****ing....just sit there and stare at the TV.
  
  So what did people do before TV was invented? Did they do other crap, or did they just sit around and stare into space just like the bugs and the cats and snakes do?
  
  Did TV turn us into mindless animals, or did it just give us something else to do while we're being mindless animals?
  
  • Posted Mar 16, 2005 6:58 am GMT
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• 14Mar 05

  Jimmie owns.

  Jimmie went to the grocery store. He was looking for pickled pigs feet. So he went and asked the manager where the pickled pig's feet were. And the manager told him that the pickled pigs feet just arrived, but that it would be a few hours before they were put on sale because they were buried somewhere amongst four tons of groceries that had just arrivved. Jimmy then said, "Is there any chance you can look for them for me? I'll give you a huge tip. I just really need some pickled pigs feet right now."
  
  And the manager said, "sorry, you'll just have to wait. We might have them ready by tonight, but you'll probably not be able to buy them until tomorrow morning."
  
  At this point, Jimmie flipped out. He started screaming, ran into the stock room and started throwing boxes all over the place. Fifteen minutes later, the police arrived and stuck Jimmie into the car to be hauled off to jail. Jimmie then died 2 minutes after being arrested.
  
  Poor jimmie. All he ever wanted was to taste pickled pigs feet one last time before he died. As he lay dying, all he could think of was his burning desire for pigs feet. He wondered why God hated him so. If the new shipment of groceries had arrived only a few hours early, then he could have died a happy man. What did he do to deserve having to die empty when fulfillment was so close?
  
  He died before ever being able to find an answer to his question.
  
  • Posted Mar 14, 2005 6:01 am GMT
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• 25Feb 05

  Show Me the Monkey

  It was around noon when the McCaques received the call. The huge, hulking grayback pulled up to their house in a dirty black Volkswagen Beetle. He squeezed his enourmous body from the tiny car the way all the little kids squeezed out nuggets when it was time for a ****ball fight.
  
  Kids and their games.
  
  And like the piece of **** he was, the greyback fell to the ground in a misshapen heap before managing to pull himself up.
  
  He began walking to the front door, but stopped in his tracks when Dr. Bubbles McCaque peeked out his window.
  
  "The kid for 50,000 bones. 5 o clock, middle of Big Red Bridge," muttured the greyback. He then turned around and walked back to his car. The door wouldn't open, so he kicked it, and the entire car collapsed into a pile of paint flakes and rusted metal. The greyback uttered an obscenity and shambled on down the street.
  
  There was a time when Dr. McCaque would have tried to fight back, maybe pulling out a firearm and demanding that the messenger tell him where his daughter was. But that never works. The greybacks never know where the the kidnapped kids are kept, they are just mere messengers. And even if an angry mob were to try to beat the information out of him, he'd just blow himself up, taking all relevant information with him.
  
  Then the kid would die, eaten alive by her captors, and her head would be stuck on a pike in town square as a warning to all: don't **** with the chimps.
  
  Of course, the kid would die anyway. They always do. But not this time. Not if Dr. McCaque had anything to say about it. He would get his daughter back alive and unharmed, and that's all there was to it. He retreated to his den and set to work...time was quickly running out.
  
  
  TO BE CONTINUED
  
  • Posted Feb 25, 2005 6:13 am GMT
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