An Award-Winning Disclaimer

A charming little Magpie whispered this disclaimer into my ear, and I'm happy to regurgitate it into your sweet little mouth:

"Disclaimer: This blog is not responsible for those of you who start to laugh and piss your pants a little. Although this blogger understands the role he has played (in that, if you had not been laughing you may not have pissed yourself), he assumes no liability for damages caused and will not pay your dry cleaning bill.

These views represent the thoughts and opinions of a blogger clearly superior to yourself in every way. If you're in any way offended by any of the content on this blog, it is clearly not the blog for you. Kindly exit the page by clicking on the small 'x' you see at the top right of the screen, and go fuck yourself."

Saturday, February 18, 2012

The "Whilst I Shit" List

I have some free time on my hands, so... THIS:

* Do people who say "Here's the deal" actually know what the deal is and, if they do, must they always say "Here's the deal" like they're doing the person to whom they're addressing some major league favor by letting them in on what the alleged deal may be?

* Am I a bad parent for having a screen-shot of Oliver Reed, drunk off his ass during an August, 1987 appearance on The Late Show with David Letterman as the background on my cellphone instead of a googly cute picture of my twins?

* Is there some reason that my father just texted me and referred to me as "Boogie"?

* Why didn't Bobby Brown dump the contents of a forty and scatter some blow on top of Whitney's coffin?

* Why do we have a baby monitor when our house is the size of a roll of Mentos and the only sounds it picks up regularly are those of the dishwasher running and our fourteen year old dog breathing like a diesel engine?

* Does anybody actually read "Rex Morgan, M.D."?

* Would more Catholics regularly go to confession if there was a photobooth inside the confessional?

* When was the first time I realized I had swamp-ass?

* When did push come to shove and, on that related topic, when am I going to get to shove somebody? Because there's a lot of motherfuckers I really want to shove, preferably face-first into a brick wall.

* Why isn't there an idiot light on your instrument cluster that tells you when you have a headlight or a taillight out, which could conceivably save you from getting pulled over and/or having to deal with an expensive ticket? I'm sure more expensive cars than I can afford to drive have such an idiot light, but I'm not only an idiot, I'm a poor idiot.

* Is there a porn version of Facebook called "Pussybook"?

................

* Okay, just checked. Why isn't there a porn version of Facebook called "Pussybook"?

* Can a non-Jew get away with telling the "How many Jews can you fit into a Volkswagen?" joke?

* Will the Professions meme be going to go away before I'm compelled to insert a lobster fork into my Adam's apple and rotate it vigorously?

* If the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, will I still get a stomach ache if I eat it without washing it first?

* Is all this fucking ear hair really necessary, God?

* Is it weird that, sometimes, when I'm feeling bored, I go to the ATM, withdraw money, stand there staring at it as it comes out of the machine, grab it, scream wildly, "I WON! HOLY SHIT! I WON!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!" and run away, get into my car and speed away?

* Would people still talk to me if they knew that I used to wear boxer shorts with Teletubbies on them? And by "used to" I mean, like, a year or two ago, and on the day of my wedding?

* Is all this fucking nose hair really necessary, God?

* Will cigarette holders, spats, and monocles ever come back?

* Would my life have been better or worse if I went to my high school prom and, if I went, who the hell would I have gone with?

* Why are there people in this world who insist on tucking in polo shirts?

* Do I dislike Jon Stewart merely because I'm a contrarian and everybody else loves him and will I ever be man enough to just admit it already or do I dislike him because he's a smug, pompous ass who doesn't understand that a comedian's primary mission should be to just make people laugh?

* Is all this fucking shoulder hair really necessary, God?

And, of course:

* If I'm fated to die on the toilet, so be it, but please-- please-- let it be on a nicer toilet than this one.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Got something to say? Rock on with your badass apron!