Good Catholics Live in Chelsea

Walking home tonight I noticed this advertisement outside of a subway station. Without thinking, I read the caption first. "Of course," I thought, "It's about time that average Catholics broached the topic of contraception."

Then I noticed the picture.


The last I checked, sodomy was slightly higher than birth control on the Church's list of "dont's."

I Should Have Been a Doctor

I finally got those MRI results back. Here is one of the images.

A close analysis of the vertical series of marshmallows and gaps running through the image seems to confirm the existence of a central nervous system.

Thank God.

chicken versus egg, beef versus plague

Thank you Rich for your insightful questions.

Maybe we could solve all of our plague issues if we just had a little bit of peanut butter and jelly with a baseball bat. (Thanks to Eugene Debs* for this contribution.)



*Unfortunately Eugene passed away recently (81 years ago this October). He will be sorely missed.

Let them eat beef

According to "Rich", corned beef on rye is better when served hot.

Do you have any idea where these children live? Who has time to warm up their corned beef when they are trying to avoid the plague? You are so naive...

Christian Children

I was just watching some commercial for the Christian Children's Fund where the narrator says, "some of these children are going to bed without a hot meal." Can someone please explain to me, what is so damn special about hot meals? What's wrong with a good sandwich? Just give them some corned beef on rye, I'm sure they'll be fine.

Pretty Queer Eyes

Over the past week, I have found myself in three (count it, three!) homosexual establishments. One might conclude that this type of pattern is indicative of some underlying urge. However, I would have to refute that charge. I am what one might call an "extreme heterosexual." Kinsey himself wouldn't be able to stand in the same room as me.

Last night, I walked into what turned out to be a predominantly lesbian bar, with a smattering of pretty men and "handsome" women. Perhaps I should have noticed that something about this place was strange upon seeing the six-foot-nine diva with no breasts and the shoulders of a basketball player, or the drag queen giving manicures. But no, it wasn't until I saw a man and woman attempting to pick each other up by the breasts and genitals on the dance floor that I realized that something was wrong. (Apparently, homosexuals are amused by public displays of these normally sexual acts.)

Once it was confirmed that I was indeed at a lesbian bar, I began to realize why there were so many single women mingling (some were even buying each other drinks!) As a result, I have decided that "gaydar" is a term that should be reserved exclusively for male homosexuals, since the ability to point out queer females requires a completely different skill. Perhaps we could call it "Lesdar." Or, as a friend suggested, "V-Dar." Who knows? It is quite possible that the homosexuals have already come up with a name that I am unaware of. God knows they like keeping their little secrets.

As you can tell, the night ended on a sour note. For a time, I thought I had found paradise. But, apparently paradise doesn't exist. The closest thing to it is a lesbian bar in the East Village.

It's your turn to clean the vomitorium

I will admit right now that I haven't been very fair to my readers over the past week, providing you only with the occasional comedic morsel. This form of starvation has proven so effective that your comedy "stomachs" have shrunken to the size of walnuts. They are so small, in fact, that these first few lines would probably be enough to satiate your desires (that is, were they actually filled with warm jokey deliciousness, which they are not). However, I would like to warn you all now, I am preparing to burst your gut. I plan on adding some great posts over the next few days, and I guarantee that you will feel so overwhelmed by my salty, crunchy, and sometimes spicy comedy delicacies that you will be vomiting laughter all over the room. It will be both disgusting and hilarious.

I'm officially a poet

Ran in front of a car
Rubber burned on tar
Thank God he stopped his Audi
Asshole driver got all rowdy
He called me a stupid idiot
And I hate that

Mystery Solved

I finally figured out who shot John F. Kennedy.

It was this lady.


She was right under our noses the whole time.

Question

If men are from Mars and women are from Venus, where does Felicity Huffman come from?

Electoral Collage

According to the New York Times editorial board, Americans should seriously consider eliminating the electoral college. After all, the popular vote is all that really counts anyway, right?

Wrong.

I mean, come on, we spend our whole lives learning that being popular isn't everything - in fact, it can ruin your life (see: Mean Girls) - and then suddenly the New York Times brings us the breaking news that the presidential election is really just a popularity contest. I guess this shouldn't come as much of a surprise. Look at the vocabulary that we use when describing our government: college, parties, freshmen, seniors, independents (aka "bi-curious").

So, if we don't eliminate the electoral college, what do we do? Maybe we can spice it up a little bit. After all, the old red & blue color scheme is getting a little tired isn't it? Maybe we can add a few new colors. What about turqoise, or magenta?

And as long as we're talking about Republicans and Democrats, what the hell is going on with the elephant and the donkey? Yes, back when the Republican Party was formed it was not uncommon to see men like Abraham Lincoln riding to work on elephants. But nowadays, that practice has become so rare that they no longer even reserve spots in the Senate parking lot. That is, except on "Alps Night," when both Houses of Congress get together to stage a reenactment of Hannibal's battles against the Romans.

Toga! Toga! Toga!

Well, here you have it, my very first link. Aren't you proud?

Did you know that diet candies could make you thin?

I did, that's why I've been eating them for years. What's the secret ingredient you ask? Why, Ayds of course!


Apparently, they've contracted the disease on the other side of the pond as well.

Milestones (or kidneystones - I'm still waiting for those test results)

To my many fans out there, I would like to express my deepest apologies for the choppy service. I have been so busy reading my fan mail that I almost forgot to take care of all of my fans! (Note: For those of you who don't know, I do that by providing them with hysterical commentary and real life stories that just tug at the heart strings). Want an example of a real tear-jerker? Well, last week I was performing surgery on Grey's Anatomy when I found out that my seventeen-year-old patient had a brain tumor. What was I to do? Well, I took his life story as my own inspiration. I saw the love that he felt for his girlfriend when he asked her to marry him before his surgery and I began to understand that love can conquer all. Except for death. He died right there on the operating table, before I even had a chance to make some funny joke about my intern's sexual pursuits. But seriously, its not really my fault, brain tumors are hard! Fortunately, I asked Meredith Grey on a date and she said "yeah," and gave me that cute little teddy bear smile. I love her.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. How could I forget my beloved fans, all 19 of them? That's right, 19 people have now visited my site (look at the counter, who knows, you could be 20). If that isn't a milestone then I don't know what is. 19's a prime number, which all of you math majors out there must love. After all, isn't that what you all yearn for, a nice juicy piece of prime number, medium rare?

I, on the other hand, love stereotypes.

A completely original joke, by me

A puzzle piece is on a talk show, complaining that he has to share his wife with so many other pieces.

Puzzle Pete: “It’s hard, you know, all day my wife is screwing around with these other guys. Some of them are just too big to fit in her. She comes home and she is completely bent out of shape.”

Puzzle Peg: “If you’re so jealous, why don’t you join in on the fun?”

Puzzle Pete: “That's not an option. I’m an edge piece, I don’t take it from behind”

Bukake Jackie

Apparently, people want to see pictures in blogs (sometimes they even talk about "links"). So, here is the first installation of my new series:

Why I think Asian people are ridiculous.

fill me with liquid metal and i can't breathe

About a week and a half ago I went in to get an MRI. A mysterious ailment originating in my pelvic region was the cause for the visit. I wouldn't say that the MRI was absolutely necessary, but when the doctor mentioned the idea I jumped at the opportunity to have my delicates scanned by a large spinning magnet.

Unfortunately, my problem wasn't big enough to warrant a CT Scan; this would have given me the opportunity to see whether or not a big healthy dose of radiation could do anything to increase the size of my testes and/or penis. Many people worry that the exact opposite might happen, but if you have ever read a comic book or watched any TV at all, you will realize that radiation serves to make things bigger and stronger, not weaker, as certain penny-pinching "experts" would have you believe.

Finally, after being placed into the child-sized MRI machine - apparently I was the tallest person to enter the thing all day (it was 8:30pm and I am 5'10) - I was treated to some superb German industrial punk music and a little bit of drum n' bass. It was absolutely amazing, I'm a very thin guy (seriously, I could be a model), and even as they slid me into the machine my arms were getting stuck. Luckily, I had a full two inches in front of my face, which provided me with plenty of room to explore during my thirty minutes of voluntary paralysis.

Seriously, the time just flew by.

When the technician began asking me to hold my breath, I was admittedly a little nervous, and when at one point he forgot to tell me that I could breathe again, I did manage to become just slightly more panicked. However, I was soon calmed down when the technician decided to pump liquid gadolinium into my bloodstream in order to increase the quality of the images. Upon feeling that cold metal shoot through my veins I was instantly able to relax, as I thought of how wonderful it was that I finally knew what Arnold Schwarzenegger must have felt like in 1984 and then again in 1991 when he was first sent to Earth to destroy and subsequently to save human-kind.

Now all I need is a few guns and an Austrian accent.

blog blog blog blog blog blog blog

Hello Everyone.

Finally, I have taken the leap and am now posting on a blog. Apparently this is something very new and daring. There are men and women in countries like Iran posting on blogs, risking their very lives so that we know what they had for breakfast.

Well, you know what? In this blog, I'll tell you what I had for lunch as well.


I hope they don't chop off my nose for this...

Very Specific Predictions, by Swanee - Astrologer to the Stars!

ARIES

You will have three children, and they will all be named Thomas. But one of them will be a girl. So you will call her Janet.

But her name will really be Thomas.

When you get home you will find out that your milk has expired, even though you thought that you had one more day. This will cause you serious problems, because you have many cookies, but no milk. You will decide to drink the expired milk, and become very sick. Scientists will later discover you had ringworms.