Category Archives: comedy



Doing dishes is always a fun fucking way to piss me off…if your ever in the mood to start a drug addiction this would be the best fucking reason possible!! 

I love it when there stacked up to the ceiling as far as a fucking hawk can see..the best part is when they have been sitting there for a billion years when king tut was giving himself handjobs….while the rest of his family was building tombs to house a fucking skeleton named -Maria Shriver

The food is now dried on the plate…and is harder to get off then Bill Clinton’s cum stain on Monica’s jacket…I’m scrubbing cheeto’s off a ceramic plate because the kid with a.d.d. can’t eat out of a fucking bag like the rest of the fucking human race……. 

All the while I’m getting cheese stains on my forehead, because the water’s splashing on me like I’m rolling down Niagra falls in a fucking barrel 

I eventually threw the son of a bitch out when bleach wouldn’t even do the trick!! Now I look like a lab experiment gone fucking  A.W.O.L… hands look like a pair of diseased midgets with the ebola virus, and my forehead is more watered down than a bottle of zima 

The best advice that I can give you is –turn yourself into the mental institute and hope for the best!!!




The infamous D.M.V

If you happen to go there to get your license…you mind as well expect to sit there for fucking life….there only happens to be 2 people at the counter and about 40 billion people in the waiting area shoulder to shoulder, you mind as well be living in Hong Kong for christ sakes….

They are sweating like a pack of apes in heat,  with numbers in there hands that say “come back next century motherfucker”….the sweats rolling in the door, like fags at a N-sync concert-and babies are crying like it’s a fucking pediatric hospital. 

After you grow a god damn beard like Moses it’s finally time to go up to the counter that looks like a gate into hell–they deny you just like david hasselhoff asking for another rum and coke at the open bar in Tahiti… because he’s trying to kram a wendy’s sandwich into his god damn throat while spitting up hamburger meat into some gay guy’s lap next to him

  Your denied because you don’t have the right fucking number in your hand…it got lost while you were in the bathroom vomiting the cheesesteak sandwich you got out of the vending machine… 

The expiration on it was from 332 B.C.

 So you cause a scene….just like that fucking shim on You Tube who was crying to the god damn nation to “Leave Britney Alone”….1-psycho.jpg.. 

So the rent a cop’s come to haul you off in a straight jacket to the tomb they used for Jesus’s burial……

The moral of the story is—– just put a piece of saran wrap over a  fucked up picture of yourself and write the word license on it with a black marker….if the cop’s question it, just start running to Canada because your fucked!!!



 The best animals in the world besides the Abominable Snowman is a fucking dog

at least every dog, besides a god damn poodle….those fuckers look more like a shag carpet that’s been thrown in the fireplace, because some dumb bastard spilled coffee on it

I walked into someones house who had a poodle, and the thing looked like this fucking nightmare  001.jpg after the holocaust,

 it was shedding like an 11 foot 4 inch bison out in the wild. I was ready to beat it with a bat…….but the owner paralyzed me with a stun gun, right when I was about to connect for a grand slam

I woke up to the fucking thing gnawing and chewing on it’s back for eight and a half minutes like it was looking for the Holy Grail in it’s satanic body…and it’s tongue was lashing around it’s paws cleaning itself like an elephant giving himself a handjob. Then it just walked out of the room…… because dog’s are more oblivious than a mime in a  Cannibal Corpse mosh pit

The name could be Charlie, so you say “Hey shit crease come here” what will the fucking swamp donkey do? wag his tail, pant like a whore and walk over to you ready to lick you….. after he just gave himself a blowjob licking on his testicles, something they call “bathing”

The only thing wrong with dog’s, is they don’t live as long as cats

With a cat you could beat it with a pogo stick, light it on fire with hairspray used as a flame thrower, throw it down 9 flights of stairs and strangle it with twine…

In the end, the bastard walks away with a limp, like a fucking cyborg after you threw Napalm at it ….while you have blood stains and scratches the size of the Grand Canyon imbedded in your skull….and your penis is detached from your body.

Now you look like a hostage in a Tibetan prison, ready to start chemical warfare with your god damn cat



I was forced to walk my dog the other day

  the bitch kept jumping up and down on my leg like a kangaroo in heat….and if I decide to sit on my ass all day– and be more worthless than a phone operator from Uganda,  who can’t even speak a fucking lick of english,  after I ask him why my cable  bill sky-rocketed to the fucking trillion dollar mark…….

my girl will come home from work and bitch–like a guy on death row because he ran a red light in a fighter jet he stole from the god damn Air Force… then she will drag me and the fucking dog to a park–that’s more run down than MC Hammer’s apartment….and muddier than a woodstock concert

As soon as I opened up the fucking door she bolted out like…Bill Cosby mistaking a pudding pop convention, for a klan parade in Little Rock

So I had to whistle repeatedly, like the god damn bird carnival going on outside my window everyday at 4 in the fucking morning….causing me to suffocate one of those mother fuckers, as it chirps it’s last breath to the bird morgue 

I hope those other pricks fly to big bird and alert the nest, that this crazy fucking lunatic means business……and not to wake him up, while he’s tossing and turning like a guy who just got his arm blown off by a fucking landmine…..

Usually when I walk my dog I’m about 30 yards ahead…that way, if she decides to shit in Orville Reddenbacher’s yard…I can quickly rummage through some other bastard’s mailbox–pretending I’m a god damn mime, who is more fucking oblivious than Rosie O’donnel’s weight loss coach……..then while he’s cussing and throwing a shovel, and punching his wife in the neck….I could laugh into my jacket and hope my dog comes out alive…

One time I looked behind me, and the little bitch wasn’t there…so I had to waste my time and walk back snapping my fingers, like I’m in a fucking Broadway musical (what a unbelievable nightmare)…..then I see she’s on her back, with her leg’s up in the air like a porn star ready to get anally probed…rubbing it’s fur on something in the weeds

It’s a snake!! that got chopped up into little bits like a Baskin Robbins sunday….by a guy who must have been more trashed than the people of Amsterdam, operating a lawn mower on LSD

As soon as I got home…….I threw raid on my dog’s skin, and put it in the crock pot to soak the fucking plague off…..

if anything…….next time I’ll wait……..and buy a god damn gerbil!!!!!!!!




What else can I waste more time and precious typing skills on….. Let’s see

How about every 15 seconds or so I keep staring at my girlfriends presents, the ones that have been sitting under the same christmas tree…….. that’s been in the fucking corner for 3 and a half years, rotting like a fucking basket of bread from the time of Christ!! Because I’m just to god damn lazy to burn it down and have a seance in my living room.

 When my friends come over and wonder why the hell there is a fucking stench that’s worse than rank pussy sifting through my house, I tell them to grab me a beer and the cheeto bag and shut there fucking mouth, or I’ll arm wrestle there grandma for her fucking wealth and snap her arm off at the elbow…….. and then I’ll light her on fire with a torch while she’s lying in the morgue.

Usually they pipe down, then if they say another word… I bring up Grandpa

   Fuck Christmas day………Why not do it now????

Let’s pretend today is christmas, so that the god damn puppy I taped up in bubble wrap can fucking stop yelping and carrying on like an old wife. I guess I want my girl to open her presents early, because I have about as much patience as Oprah opening a brand new fresh bag of marshmallows—NONE……. what so fucking ever

It would be funny to get my girlfriend everything she never wanted, somehow the list of shit she handed me of what she wanted for christmas, was the night I ran out of rolling paper, so what better thing to use for my ganja fix than this fucking list I received…… perfect timing!!!

 Let’s say she wants a silver necklace and some perfume ….Instead, I’ll give her a poster of Clay Aiken with a turtleneck sweater on from 1973– the  number one bullshit on her list is a brand new shiny watch ….little does she know, I’m giving her a fucking bread machine with “easy to read instructions”

Of course it could work both ways

I can open my presents expecting a football jersey or an I-pod, instead it’s a bloody decapitated head, with the brains blown out the side where the god damn ears used to be

 My girlfriends a mass murderer and I’m on top of her list ready to be chopped up into little bits and then flushed down the toilet….the next present is a sawed in half torso. I’m pretending to smile, but all I want to do is jump the fuck out of the nearest window. I think if she catches me, she will tackle me to the ground like a fat fucking sumo wrestler….. and snap my neck like a fucking twig off of a tree branch. So I better not run towards her with my boy scout knife. 

 My christmas is fucking ruined!!

Somehow I escaped……. shoulder rolling through the sliding glass door

 I’m screaming like a teenage girl getting spanked on the ass with a ping pong paddle by her step-father…. running like a fucking gazelle, jumping over logs and dodging branches that can easily leave a huge fucking gash in my bung hole

My christmas is spent in a police chair, talking to detective “shitwad”….all he says is…. “uh huh”– “uh huh” while eating a greasy ham, opening his presents that his buddies from the fucking “A-Team” got him.

I try to explain my horrific night…but he looks at me, like when I try to put my god damn dog on the cell phone to talk to the tele-marketers from India…… Those Fucks

I suppose I’ll go to the bar, find a whore and bang her silly….otherwise, if I attempt to go home; I know I’m having deep dish testicles for dinner tonight

 Happy New Year…..

Oh wait

 we already read that story







The new year….

What a great time in a New York policeman’s life where he wakes up on december 31st and he says “tonight’s the night I don’t get laid”….he has to serve and protect the warm cup of piss he just got handed by a bunch of sloppy, drunk…. ass wipes who just lit the Empire State Building on fire

It’s a one night event where the whole fucking nation stands shoulder to shoulder…. freezing nut sacks, listening to Ryan Seacrest talk about Dick Clark’s 210th birthday celebration

While in the corner–Dick Clark’s slurring the words to “Happy Birthday” and spitting on the god damn cake…trying to blow out the fucking trick candles!!  finally eating the flesh on his hands trying to kram a wedge of cake through his dentures that keep falling to the fucking shag carpet beneath him 

The only good part is admitting yourself to rehab that night…because you have drank 32 and a half bottles of vodka and took a multitude of bong hits at MTV studios with “The “Pocket Possy” Three Six Mafia….

All that’s left is you urinating into grandpa joe’s mouth in the room next to you…because a corn nut got lodged in his throat while watching re-runs of baywatch on TBS, he’s gasping for his last moments on earth trying to survive with an IV attached to his penis…his body is more dried out than a prune field east of India, then you finally pass out on the back of a cargo ship headed for the Iraqi desert


The next morning…the streets of New York look like a Slayer mosh pit, that was lit on fire with napalm 

And who has to clean it up….

Vanilla Ice sweeps…while Michael Bolton vaccums





 Here is a story that you don’t want to read in front of your college creative writing class, it seems none of these fucking swamp donkey’s that you sat next to……. have any god damn sense of humor at all…..they just sit there and make faces like a constipated ape….fuck them!!!

Having childhood memories is a great thing to have, but when it’s a fucking horrific event you just want to curl up in an assball and cry like a fucking 3 year old

Like any normal morning for me before the bus came for school… I figured I would steal some quarters from my sister as long as I could sift through the plague infested dump she called a purse, after hours of vomiting like a caveman meeting rosie O’donnell for the first time…

I left early so I could go up to 7 Eleven to play a some arcades, and to hassle Hashish sitting behind the counter while he’s arguing to a redneck about cleaning up the fucking slushie his buddy  Joe Dirt  just threw at his neck. I joined in and took Mohammed’s tip jar and smashed it on his turban. somehow we got into a wrestling match and he eventually banned me from ever coming in his store again. His fucking translator’s head was stuffed through the hot dog turner…so it was hard to understand any fucking bullshit these pricks were saying.

Of course I missed the bus, I had to go home and change my blood stained shirt and pour a bottle of peroxide on my penis that got snapped off in the U.F.C fight with Abraham, and on top of that I had to knock down my sister’s door with a sledge hammer just to get her to wake the fuck up to take me to school…because pouring candlewax on her cheek didn’t do the trick

It was great though, when she made an ass out of herself just like Richard Simmons on the Tonight Show after he showed his kitten balls to the nation because his god damn shorts are tighter than Bobby Brown’s choke hold on Whitney…she  had to write her name and address on a piece of paper at the toll booth, because she didn’t have any money to pay the toll…. so they had to send her the bill for $.75 cents…I had to laugh into my jacket because her face was redder than Santa Clause’s fat red ass

Of course my laughing backfired…being that she was so pissed off, I had to shoulder roll out of the passenger side car door, as she squeeled around the parking lot like a pig getting slaughtered with a butter knife

After I flipped her off while I was on the ground, she backed up toward me like a diabolical being with her eyes fixated on running over my fucking bird chest…. which made me run into the school like a fucking child. When school was over I had to stop by the pawn shop and buy a silver bullet to put this bitch in the grave, before she attacked me while I was walking through the forest or some shit…..

I hated school with a passion. You sit through each class, listening to Ben Stein talk about his monotone voice and how fucking annoying it is, and how it got him kicked out of the actor’s studio. Then he asks fucked up questions like if x-y+h=zb…..what does the speed of a gazelle reach when catching a jack rabbit in the back woods of kentucky??

I look around and everyone in the class is more passed out then William Hung after he got his ass kicked for opening up for Journey, I’m the only bastard still awake because I’m still traumatized by the fucking joy ride I had with my hallucinogenic sister. Ben Stein needs an answer so he eyes me down like Charles Manson ready to slice and dice his next victim.

I mumble a bunch of bullshit, hoping the bell rings to end this fucking nightmare…when it does everyone stands up and sprints out the door like a running back on steroids, I pack up my shit faster than Clay Aiken getting kicked out of Hollywood… as I’m leaving I throw a 90 mile hour fast ball with an apple right at Ben’s forehead shattering his glasses, I walk out the door flipping him off ,while he’s on the ground crying like a toddler, I kick him in the neck causing him to die on the scene.

I walk into the hallway, which is cluttered with a pack of chimps like it’s 5 o’ clock traffic on the 405 freeway in California, all the fucking mutants come out to stop in the middle of the hallway where your walking…. they think it’s a fucking buy one get one free sale of blowjobs at “Jenny the math class whore’s” locker.

 So you have to be aggressive and knock down every sick fucker like bowling pins at “Bowlerama”( the place to get more wasted than the people of Amsterdam, and drink gatorade out of your cupped hands) plow through them like it’s a riot….. then finally get to your fucking mayonnaise jar they call a locker, grab your books and get to the next mental ward meeting

If you are smart, you don’t need a locker…just carry all your heavy books in your backpack, and when you plow down some asshole , and he starts talking shit just say        “I didn’t know man” and pummel the bitch with your backpack— which is now a deadly weapon of disaster to any fuck that comes near you…. even Lance, the one every one fears, because he bullshits everyone into believing he’s a green beret. Well, I’ve got a front page news story for him

He walks the halls each day confident and relaxed  thinking no ones going to fuck with him, until that day when I come up behind him with a pack of books to the skull…while he’s talking to Beth. The hottest whore in high school. “Are you relaxed and confident now Lance”????

What I hate most about high school is years later when your doing your own thing. drinking heavily, brawling, and fucking all the fat chicks because your penis is more dried out than a prune field east of India….(get what you can right???)

 you stop into wendy’s for a doublestack and sitting behind the counter besides Rosie O’donnell, finishing the last of the chili in the pot…with her god damn head krammed in there like a midget at an airport urinal….you see the same fuck you pile drived…. his soft head through the drywall……… in the infamous “hall fight”

to the right of him, you see Kevin…the guy you owe  14 months of rent payment and public service bills to…because you skipped out of the apartment in the middle of the night…… jumping off the fucking roof after you found out he’s a faget…..he’s working the fry machine stroking the fucking chicken nugget box like Michael Jackson lubing up Macaulay Culkin

right about now your in a bad spot….so you just casually sprint out the back door and peel away like a fucking bank robber to Burger King down the street. That’s where you see Kathy, your ex-girlfriend…the one you left after she became to serious, the only thing you remember is catching a plane to Canada that night, after a heated argument and tears.

So by now you just say fuck it…. and go home and make your own damn sandwich your stomach’s growling worse than a rabid fox…..