Five Top Tens for Couples

Top Ten Excuses for Premature Ejaculation

1. The FBI Covert Operations Unit trained us to “get in, do the job, and get out fast.”
   
   
2. Well, If you want dinner, all the good places are going to close soon, so I deliberately made the conscious decision to hurry up.
   
   
3. Oh, you just forgot to set the clock forward for daylight savings time. Hey, sixty-one minutes! not too shabby eh?.
   
   
4. Sorry, I..I can’t...I was just thinking about my dog, Sheppy. He died 3 years ago and I’m really not over it. Oh That? That’s just mayonaisse.
   
   
5. Hey, I won fair and square. Don’t be a sore loser.
   
   
6. It’s hereditary, my mom used to have the same problem.
   
   
7. I was faking—Ooh! My meter’s gonna run out! Be right back...in about an hour.
   
   
8. Stop complaining. In some cultures, four seconds is considered very respectable.
   
   
9. Shazam!.
   
   
10. Well, I started two hours ago. You should have been here babe, it was truly amazing.

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Top Ten Excuses for Erectile Dysfunction

1. Sorry, when you said “take me now!” it reminded me of my grandmother who's always trying to get us to drive her to Disneyworld.
   
   
2. Funny, I didn’t have any problem with the last four chicks I satisfied this afternoon.
   
   
3. Damn, I just had this thing serviced too. I’m never going to the Pep Boys again.
   
   
4. Yeah but check this out. Ever see such a gorgeous scrotum before?
   
   
5. This happens every full moon...Listen! Do you hear the wolves?
   
   
6. No, it’s working fine. Sorry, you’re just not registering on the Babe-o-meter.
   
   
7. Now what do you want me to do, think or get a hard-on? I don't have enough blood for both.
   
   
8. Gimme that! You’re not doing it right.
   
   
9. Would you look at this; somebody replaced my Viagra with salt peter!
   
   
10. YOU KILLED IT! Get out, you...you...penis killer!
    

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Top Ten Excuses for Not Being a Virgin

1. Look, I have seven brothers, what do you want from me.
   
   
2. It happened in Sex Ed class, it’s a very progressive school
   
   
3. Huh? Really? So it wasn’t a dream!
   
   
4. I said you were my first human.
   
   
5. I didn’t think kindergarten counted.
   
   
6. Are you sure? Damn, that means my premiums gonna go up.
   
   
7. Well, I’m using “The Club” now so there shouldn’t be any more problems.
   
   
8. C’mon dad. All the kids are doing it.
   
   
9. How would you know? Aha! Not so squeaky clean yourself are ya?
   
   
10. Look, I was on safari and I was captured by savages. It was either that or be sacrificed.

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Top Ten Excuses for Infidelity

1. It happened at work, honey. I had to do it to keep my job, don’t you care about that? All the top female exec’s got there by sleeping with José in the mail room.
   
   
2. Honey! She was just showing me the position she caught her husband in.
   
   
3. Jeezus, they took the CD player, my briefcase, the change out of the ashtray. Who cares if they left a pair of panties under the seat?
   
   
4. He was working under the sink and I complained about his plumber crack so he took his pants off, that’s all. Perfectly innocent.
   
   
5. I’m not Ralph. He never told you about his identical twin brother? Hi, I’m Kyle and this is my girlfriend Sherry. You must be that gorgeous wife he's always raving about. Well, we have a plane to catch. Tell him we're sorry we didn't get to see him.
   
   
6. He said he was an old friend of yours and you guys did this all the time. You’re telling me you don’t even know him?!
   
   
7. I’ll explain everything, but first just help me with these roses I got you and you like diamonds right? That’s for you. Oh, and I bought you a new Audi Sports Coupe ‘cause I thought it might be fun and this is just a few grand I had left over, put that someplace safe. Okay, now what was that problem you mentioned?
   
   
8. I was in Macy’s and the girl at the Revlon counter just started spraying me with perfume, then she starts drawing with lipstick on my collar and she must have stuffed that strand of blond hair into my shorts when I was distracted worrying about how you were gonna clean this shirt.
   
   
9. Honey, after 30 years of marriage, I’ve had enough sex for my whole life. What would I want with some 22-year-old tart?
   
   
10. What? Steve and I always watch the game in the nude. Huh? Hey, If you saw the pass Favre just threw, you’d have an erection too!

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Top Ten Excuses for Mysteriously Getting Pregnant

1. It’s a miracle! Honey, we’re the chosen ones!
   
   
2. Okay I confess. While you were having a wet dream one night, I took the liberty of...
   
   
3. Oh, it must have happened when that armored car coming from the sperm bank flipped over and there was a big spill. I happened to be walking by wearing a short skirt and I slipped in it.
   
   
4. This baby makes me nauseous, He's making me gain weight, and he makes me not want to have sex ever again...Oh he's yours alright.
   
   
5. I don’t know how this happened! I was so careful... What the... Pez? What the hell, happened to my birth control pills?!
   
   
6. Okay I should have told you this before but, I am one quarter African American and it’s a dominant gene so that’s why our baby looks like Denzell Washington. But look honey, he has your penis! ...No, it won’t get bigger, silly.
   
   
7. I knew I shouldn’t have worn your dirty underwear that time.
   
   
8. When was the last time you had your vasectomy checked? Those things can go bad on you. You gotta watch ‘em.
   
   
9. Yeah, well how do you know I’m the real mother?
   
   
10. Okay Ralph, I can’t lie to you. It was your twin brother Kyle. He totally had me fooled.

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By Numbsain Inc. “...smart people doing stupid things to make stupid people feel smart”

disclaimer: The excuses listed here, although sound and surefire, are not admissible as evidence in a court of law. Goldmind's Unwind accepts no responsibility for loss, damages, or personal injury suffered as a result of using these excuses.

“Okay if I smoke?”
“Sure, mind if I fart?”


Bad habits have been a popular favorite since Adam and Eve smoked their first dime of crack. But even more trendy than having bad habits, is quitting them. Entire organizations, are built on kicking everything from airplane glue to Pez, but the number one habit people love to quit is cigarettes. I used to quit smoking every night before going to bed. I realized I was in denial when I started using insomnia as an excuse to not quit.

Recently I actually did quit and my sense of smell returned. It's a good thing because it reminded me that my ex, who died of second hand smoke three months ago, was still in the closet. My parents were always concerned about second hand smoke. So they stayed at least ten feet apart whenever they smoked. They thought if they smoked the more natural cigarettes, it wouldn't kill them. They were right, they both died from natural causes...in their early thirties.

Back in the day, people didn't worry about second hand smoke. The father smoked at the dinner table and flicked the ashes right on the babies head. Now they're trying to ban smoking in all public places. I'll support that when they ban perfume, cologne and all whale vomit based designer stenches in general. They would also have to outlaw body odor, bad breath and farting, Incarcerate every skunk, civet cat and rutting goat, plus shut down half of New Jersey. Internal combustion engines would have to go too.

Though studies show that jogging along a freeway is less damaging to the lungs than if you're driving because when you breath heavily, the toxins don't have time to settle in. Yeah but I can easily run them over, but anyway... based on that fact, I took up exercising so I wouldn't have to quit smoking. But I can't find a gym with a smoking section.

So, begrudgingly, I nicked the kickotine habit, but the cravings wouldn't go away, so I got the patch. It was useless because I wasn't breast fed nearly long enough—my girlfriend weaned me off the double D's after only a year—so I still have the oral fixation. I tried the gum. That was close, but no cigar. Now I've started smoking moderately, five packs a day. But I found the combination of the three gives me the satisfaction I want from a bad habit. Now my girlfriend says kissing me tastes like licking an ashtray. I told her that's disgusting. Whose ashtray was it anyway?

I don't trust anti-smoking campaigns either. When was the last time some corporation or political entity told you to do something for your health? If they paid for a billboard, they've figured out how to make money from it. You've seen the ads:

“10,000 Smoking Related Deaths This Year.”

That includes the guy who tried to toss his cigarette out the closed window of his car, the cherry landed in his lap so he swerved trying to brush it onto the floor, hit the car next to him who veered of the road into a vegetable stand launching a zucchini over a fence hitting the emergency brake on Clevis McGee's back hoe which rolled over a haystack where he and Debbie Jo Calhoun were bumpin' uglies until they got tilled into the topsoil, dismembered and dried in the noon day sun.

Then there are those Surgeon General warnings that get more and more severe every few years:





This has been a public disservice announcement from the
American Council of Money Grubbing Corporations
Who Care About Your Health as Much as They Care
About Who Becomes the Next U.S. President.

by Numbsain...“at least he gives a shit!”

M•E•A•N •C•U•I•S•I•N•E

by numbsain

Welcome to the Mean Cuisine Gore-May Kitchen where victuals victimize you and we light the gas in gastronomic delights. Specializing in Killinary Klassics that everyone will bring up at the dinner table. You don't need reservations because once they see the menu most people already have reservations. Hope you brought your cast iron stomach and plenty of Ipecac, or at least a Nelly Fortado CD.


SALADS

Seizure Salad—Just like Grand Maul used to make.
Wal-Dwarf Salad—We tossed in a Dwarf.
Spin-itch Salad—Spinach and Fresh Baby Poison Ivy
Anti-Christ-O Salad—With Deviled Eggs and Mortal-Della

ENTREES

Arroz Con Polio—It's Cripple-icious!
Beef Swellington—Swollen Welts of Black Anguish Beef.
Chicken Tetrachloride—Juicy Chunks in Solvent Sauce.
Kung Fu Chicken—You kill teacher, WHY? WHY? WHY?
Carnage Asada—Bloody Marinated Steak
Beef Never Loins—So now it’s gotta loin the hard way.
Rodney King Duck—Can’t we all just get a leg?
Wreck of Lamb—Treated worse than veal even.
Ratatat-KaBLOOEEY—A semi automatic favorite.
Mobster Tail—It sleeps with fishes.

HOMA-SIDE DISHES

Rigor-Mortoni—It’s Pasta Way.
Potatos Augh! Rotten!—But It’s still good.
Torture-lini Al Pest Control—Served by the Orkin Man.
Fried Calamity-mari—Deep Fried until Rubbery.
Sexually Assaulted Peanuts—De-virginia-nized peanuts.

RISE AND SHINERS

Decapitated Coffee—Won’t keep you up.
Lo Cal Egg Beaters—When you’re on a die-et.
Eggs Bent Dick—Ouch! That's gotta hurt.
Incontinental Breakfast—Depends® how hungry you are.
Cold Cereal Killer—Killoggs, Genocide Mills, Postal.
Agent Orange Juice—With Bloody Pulp.

LUNCH WITH A PUNCH

Feel Awful Sandwich—We won't have ta-bully you into it.
Chopped Off Liver—It was about to go anyway.
Poverty-Stricken-Boy Sandwich—Worse off than a Poorboy.
Billy Club Sandwich—Nobody Beats Ours.
Nuclear Submarine Sandwich—Dive! Dive!
Past Trauma Sandwich—You'll Need Therapy.

DESSERTS STRESSED

Pineapple Upside-Yo-Head Cake—A Tropical Treat.
Terror-Me-Sue—Rum for your lives!
Tres Leeches—This dessert sucks.
Pain De Choke-a-Lot—Goes down great with the Heimlich.
Napalmier—Served scalding hot and sticks to your ribs.
Date Rape Loaf—You know her so its not as much work.
Rhubarb-Wire Pie—You can’t escape.
Apple-Schrapnel—with Grenade-ine flavoring.


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Adventures of Tampax & Moron
L I G H T • B E I N G S • F R O M • T H E • D I S T A N T • F U T U R E

Episode 5—“Light Beings have Needs Too”



Moron: Tampax? Is that you? What has happened to you?

Tampax: Yes it is me Moron, I grew weary of my existence as a light being. I have taken on a corporeal human form here in the 21st century.

M: But why Tampax, you are a highly advanced life form, a superior entity. Why would you choose to downgrade to a previous evolutionary state?

T: Because Moron, being advanced is not sexy. Evolution has made us boring and dull. We have lost touch with our most basic human qualities. Such as emotions and the ability to attract the opposite sex and procreate. We are so androgenous we can't even evoke pheremonal responses in each other. I wanted to experience sensuality, eroticism, love. You can not tell me you are not wildly desirous of me. You know you want me physically, Moron. Admit it.

M: Tampax, I am afraid you have made an egregious error. There is nothing desirable about the human form you have chosen. I regret to inform you that you are what is commonly referred to in the twenty first century as a battle ax.

T: What? You are joking, Moron. That is impossible. I did the research and found the most powerful and influential human female of the era. How could you not find me comely and irresistible?

M: Tampax, Tampax, Tampax. (sigh) You poor misguided entity. Human males are not attracted to the same things that human females are attracted to. Males want to be the dominant gender and they want a female to be submissive and obsequious, young and innocent, dumb and blonde. A powerful female is threatening to a male and not at all desirable. Especially an aged female such as the one you have chosen. I am no more attracted to you than I am to a spiny poisonous reptile. You are saggy and baggy, haggard and flabby. You appear to have been ridden hard and put away wet. You have the muscle tone and resilience of an old douch bag that has been baking in the ultraviolet rays of a nearby star. You are withered and grey. A double bagger. No spring chicken. You have a waddle and several chins. You are long in the tooth. Moth-eaten. Antediluvian. Elderly. Over-the-hill. Rickety. Decrepit. Dried up. Yesterday’s news. A wrinkle vendor. A crotchety old biddy. A senior citizen. To put it bluntly, you are a skanky, nasty, washed-up, shriveled-up, tore-up-from-the-floor-up, prune-faced, Depends®-wearing, I’ve-fallen-and-I-can’t-get-up-saying, one-foot-in-the-grave-stepping, liver-spot-having, great-granny-smelling, old hag, Tampax.

T: Oh Moron, how could you say all those awful things? You are truly a heartless, hateful entity and you have destroyed my self esteem, and confidence. You’ve diminished my self worth and devalued me as a woman. I thought I would be the most desirable female on this planet when I chose to take on the form of Hillary Clinton.

M: Oh Tampax, don’t feel so bad. I’ll tell you a little secret. I almost chose my corporeal form by using the same criteria. Fortunately I read the historical document all the way to the end when he was caught on video tape sodomizing and then eating his own offspring, which was how far he had to go before his deluded a complacent followers finally realized how evil he was. Yes, I almost ended up taking on the corporeal form of George W. Bush, or the Fecal Fuhrer as he is unaffectionately referred to in the historical files.

T: But you did not. I have impulsively made the wrong choice and now I will never experience the joy of being a sexual plaything for males of my species. Oh Moron, what am I to do?

M: Well Tampax, you can always come back to the 60th century with me. We may be boring and overly evolved but we might be able to spice things up a bit.

T: But how Moron?

M: Try something for me Tampax. Say: “I am a dirty little whore.”

T: I am a dirty little whore?

M: Ooh, that was hot! Say it again!

T: I am a dirty little sex pot whore.

M: Oh yes! That was good Tampax, you learn quickly!

T: Yes! Yes! I liked uttering those words. Take me you big brute! I’m nothing but a dirty little two bit crack whore and I want it rough and hard, all night long!

M: Yes! Take it all you little slut! Take every inch of my manhood you tramp! Let me see those big bodacious tatas of yours! Come on, back that ass up! Who’s your pimp daddy?

T: You are Moron! You are!

M: YESSSSS! Yes! Oh... Yeah... You got that... right...whew... (yawn)...

T: Moron? Why have you stopped already? Can you please continue to verbally dominate me Moron? Please Moron... Now? MORON?

M: zzzzzzzzzzz... zzzzzzzzzz...

T: Moron, you are a pig!

M: Please Tampax, can’t you see I am trying to commence my regeneration sequence here?

THE ALTERNATIVE




“Wh-what happened? Where am I? Why do I feel so strange? There's someone, maybe they'll know... Um, excuse me, sir... Where am I? What is this place?”

“You are here.”

“Yes but where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Just be glad you're here.”

“Why?”

“Consider The Alternative. Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Great, he was no help at all. What an asshole... OW!”

“I'm sorry sir but that kind of language is not permitted here.”

“Why not, where are we?”

“Just follow the white line and keep walking.”

“What? Why do I have to keep walking?”

“So you get there.”

“Get where? What if I don't want to get there?”

“Consider The Alternative. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

“What the... Forget this keep walking on the white line crap, I'm gonna go over here and sit down until somebody tells me where the hell I am...OW! What is that? Why do I keep getting an electric shock?

“Because you used profanity.”

“So fuckin' wha-OW!”

“Now get back on the white line and keep walking or else...”

“Yeah I know, consider The Alternative ha ha ha, right? Trust me pal, I am considering The Alternative.”

“But this is the right way, this way is good, The Alternative is bad.”

“Well, so far I'm not liking the ‘right’ way. It ain't so ‘good’ from what I can see.”

“But that's because you're not following the rules.”

“I don't give a shit ab-OW-t the rules. I'm not following no damn whi-OW! ...no white line.”

“Then you should get on the bus.”

“What, this bus here? Why, where does it go?”

“Read the sign on the front.”

[THE ALTERNATIVE HA HA HA HA]

“Yeah? I think I will.”

[several hours later]

“End of the line, all out for The Alternative!”

“Hey thanks, I never paid the fare. How much I owe you?”

“That's okay, no charge.”

“Thanks... Woah! This place looks dreary. Kinda dark on these streets. What's that? A bar, cool!
Hey, a blues band. They sound pretty good. Hey bartender lemme get a fuckin' Scotch over here!

“You got it pal."

“Alright, I can cuss. Hey anybody sittin' here?”

“Be my guest.”

“Thanks. So who owns this place?”

“I do.”

“Hell, it's better than where I was. What's your name?”

“Lucifer. And yes, I think Hell is a lot better. Enjoy your stay.”

“Fuckin' A Right! I think I like The Alternative. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”


by numbsain

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Goldmind's Unwind Jr. “Smell ‘n’ Say” Stench-O-Matic
Wouldn’t it be great if your children could tell you they’ve stepped in something before they track it into the car? Teach them the difference between ammonia and chloroform and get a break from them for a while. Or just have a few laughs watching them wrinkle their noses and puke up all that candy they ate. They’ll never say the dinner you slaved over smells like shit because they’ll know what shit smells like.

by numbsain...“When you go to the well this often, you're bound to fall in once in a while.”

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NUMBSAIN'S EYEWITLESS NEWSFLINCH



Studies Show Nose Picking Improves Driver Alertness

Incontrovertible evidence has been found proving that nose picking and the digital removal of hard or semi-hard dried mucous from the nasal passages actual stimulates brain function in all the areas used while driving a motor vehicle. Visual acuity, hand to eye coordination, reflexes and even navigational skills are all enhanced by the judicious and frequent insertion of the finger into the proboscis, the Department of Highways and Transportation announced today. The statement was met with some opposition posed by the National Anti-Cootie Foundation and the Federal Board of Roadway Indiscretions. But Officials are still condoning and encouraging nose picking in drivers nationwide asserting that the clear glass windows of most commercial passenger vehicles provide adequate concealment of the drivers activities. Providing the nasal products are not displayed on the middle finger extended from the vehicle toward other divers.


It’s a Cotton Pickin’ Crime

The case of two ex-plantation workers who were denied jobs at an orange grove in Louisiana was heard in the U.S. Supreme Court this week. Attorneys for the plaintiff stated that his clients were victims of racial discrimination citing an incident in which the grove’s foreman told the plaintiff, “Git yo cotton pickin’ hands outta my grove, boy. We don’t want no cotton pickers ‘round these here parts!” Although the two are fairly certain they will be awarded a settlement in the case, one of the plaintiffs was forced to seek employment at a shoe-shine stand while the other had to accept a position as an elevator operator until the case is settled.


Marsupials Are Just Dysfunctional Mammals.

An Official Spokesperson for the National Zoological Foundation has announced that Marsupials are just mammals with a pouch who have simply been coddling their young for too long. “These pups are just being big babies. They’re nothing more than sissies who are just too chicken-shit to leave the security of the womb when they’re born like any other mammal. And the platypuses and opossums who are letting them do it, are encouraging bad behavior in their offspring who never really mature fully and then go on to continue the cycle of abuse with their young. It’s disgusting!” Wildlife and conservationists are being asked to discourage the use of phrases such as “those amazing marsupials,” and to start calling them all mammals. The word ‘marsupial’ is really stupid sounding anyway, it sounds like the first course of a meal eaten on a nearby planet, you have your choice of that or ‘marsaladial.’

Surgeon General Puts Restrictions on Breast Implants

In a long overdue decision by the Surgeon General, there will now be size restrictions and upper limit guidelines to regulate breast sizes which fall under the classifications of ‘Big Bodacious Tatas’ or ‘Humongous Bazongas.’ The restrictions are designed to curtail the numerous abuses of women’s right to breast augmentation. “Some of these gals are really out of control with the size of their breasts and it’s not only unhealthy but it gives women an unfair advantage over men socially. When a normal sound-minded man’s eyes bug out of his head and he starts drooling, it’s time to put your foot down.
No body part should have the power to reduce an otherwise sane person to a blathering, googely-eyed, pervert with his tongue dragging on the ground.” The hardest hit by this new law will be the porn industry which employs entertainers such as Miss Lotta Topp and Mandy Melons just to name two. Unfortunately we can’t recall the massive mammaries these women already sport. They will continue to reign over males with supreme dominance until their bodies become too old to maintain the muscle tone and epidermal elasticity needed to support the weight of those things. But at least we can prevent future generations from packing the kind of racks that bring grown men to their knees at the very sight of them.

Junk Food May Actually Be Better for your Health

A double blind study recently indicated that McDonalds hamburgers, fries and shakes are more healthy than fresh organic fruits, vegetables and other natural foods on the market. The study suggests that we should continue to scarf these fast food favorites freely and stop wasting money on so-called 'whole food' from 'God’s green earth' 'as nature intended it' as they provide no better nutrition than the stuff you can get from a drive through for a fraction of the cost, according to chairman of the McDonalds Food Corporation who conducted and funded the study.

Numbsains Eyewitless Newsflinch...keeping your nose in other peoples business!

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The Memoirs of Detective Stump


I’d been over it a thousand times, perusing the reports, dusting the crime scene for prints, sniffing the confiscated evidence. Yet I was no closer to cracking this case than Velveeta was to cheese. My five o’clock shadow was developing a cowlick and I was down to my last pack of Gauloises. I don’t smoke ‘em, I just hand ‘em out to keep people from bumming my Marlboro Lights.

Vinnie “The Vacuum” Langostino was the last member of Scab-Face’s gang (They call him Scab-Face ‘cause he hasn’t fully healed yet) still at large and I wasn’t giving up till I had him kicking the soap in the tattooed conga line at Sing-Sing. I knew he was dealing down at the elementary school. When third graders win Nobel prizes in chemistry, you know they ain’t spending their lunch money on meatloaf and vegetable medley.

I had only one more lead and then I’d have to go buy more, or throw away my mechanical pencil and use the Tichonderoga No. 2 Vinnie sent me in a box. (I wonder if that means something?). The only thing left to do is to try the Turbaned Serf at the crack house stake out. Dempsey and McGurk have been watching that place for three weeks. Every morning he leaves looking like a mega-genius with hydroencephalitis and every evening he comes back with a briefcase full of dead presidents. It doesn’t take an airplane scientist to figure out that he packs his turban with cocaine in the morning, peddles it on the streets and brings the lettuce back at night. But I still can’t connect Vinnie to the operation.

I’ve got a hunch if we haul in the Turbaned Serf and the judge threatens him with the witness protection program, he’ll turn chicken and clam up. Then we’ll know he’s got the dirt to finger Vinnie and all we’ve got to do is plaster his mug shot all over the news and tell every redneck this side of Uzbekistan he’s Bin Laden in disguise. He’ll be squealin’ like Ned Beatty and sell out Vinnie the Vacuum faster than a hooker in a ninety-nine cent store.

I was feeling smug and self satisfied so I sought some smut to satisfy myself. And there’s no smuttier slut to shmooze than The Smoocher. This dame was smooth and had a smoky smoldering smile that smelled like smores. Ever since they brought her in for smuggling smack in her smurf, I was smitten.

So I high-tailed it down to the High Five for a high ball at high noon. I walk in the joint and there she was, smoking a joint. Imagine me, a detective, going for a broad like this. I grabbed the roach out of her mouth and took a hit. Right in the leg. It was Vinnie. He always was a lousy shot. I whipped around and fired three rounds right between the eyes. Vinnie looked at me and said,
“Why’d you do that?” Then the bartender I just killed dropped the pitcher of beer right on Vinnie’s head, knocked him out cold...and wet.

He came to a few minutes later with a frothy head and said to me,
“High pain threshold, eh?”
“Wooden leg.” I quip
Just then a black sedan pulls up with Hammerhead and Carlos the Greek on the running boards. Baby Face McGoo is in the back with Five Finger Descanso and Knuckles Rappaport. Shotgun Pyles is the driver’ and Pile Driver’s ridin’ Shotgun. Butterball and Tommy the Turk are in the rumble seat and Tiny Midgetelli’s in the glove box. Jeezus every thug in town is in that car and me with no back up. Suddenly, O’Flaherty and McMurphy burst outta the back room followed by Conners and Sykes. Big Sully and Moose were behind the bar and Little Jimmy was hidin’ in my table tent. Too rich for my blood, I hit the deck and crawl out the back door into the alley. There’s a car waitin’ with the passenger door open and I hear a familiar female voice yell,
“Get in ya big lug!”
I climb in, sit down and no sooner do I slam the door, than I feel the kiss of cold steel on my cheek. It’s Marlene “Metal-Mouth” Murgatroyd, and boy is she a sight for sore eyes. She hands me a bottle of Visine and says,
“Why is it whenever somethin’ big is goin’ down, I can always find you slippin out the back door?” “I’d rather hear about it on the news” I say. So Metal-Mouth whips out her knobs, smiles real wide and say’s
“I’m already turned on, now tune me in.”
[TwoooEEEEEooooEEEOOOooooEEEooo]

Bob Hornsby prides himself on being politically correct




The domestic associate and I live in an area which is fairly isolated from cultural diversity. So naturally we get bored eating mono-cultural meals every day. Our domestic administrative coordinator and culinary specialist does an impeccable job of maintaining a widely varied menu but is contractually barred from introducing authentic dishes from the places of her ancestors geographical origin. So tonight we just felt like something a little different, exotic maybe. We decided by consensus to go out for a culturally alternative meal and I nominated just the place. One of the individuals I work with is human, and he told me about all the best places to go for authentic cuisine from the region from which his ancestors originated. We went there for lunch one afternoon and it was so agreeable that, if I occupied the region from which his ancestors originated, I'm certain I would exceed the recommendations of the body mass indicator.

On the way, the domestic associate admitted she was a little apprehensive about the neighborhood, due to the more impecunious lifestyle and the resultant tendency for certain individuals to exhibit unexpected behavior. I'm sure it happens in any species, not just humans. When we arrive, there's an attire-coordinated social group in the parking lot and one human asks, "What's up fool?" I don't take offense because I know our dialect of that area and that's just our way of saying, "Hello, can I help you." So I said, "We were hoping to eat here," to which he replied, "they're closed." I thought to myself, "Why would we be closed on Monday?" Then I realize it's Martin Luther King Jr.'s Birthday. Of course we observe that holiday, he did so much for our people.

Famished by now, we decide to go to Humantown for an authentic human meal. We knew a great place where we usually get a few different dishes and a big bowl of steamed rice and share. And there’s always put a big pot of hot tea on the table. But a funny thing happened. We had just entered Humantown and, like clockwork, this typical human driver comes plowing through the intersection without even looking and nearly hits us. The domestic associate and I just look at each other and say: "DWH! Driving while human!"

Anyway, we get there and our favorite human restaurant has gone out of business. We didn't want to risk another place because the others were a little too authentic. Our place was a more humanized—no surprise mystery meats. Also, this was the only human place with clean bathrooms. So we’re just about to give up, when there, on the side of the road, is one of those family owned food stands. There was a crowd of humans having a grand old time with the traditional human music playing. We had a big barbecue pit and we were chopping up marinated steak and tossing it into hand made corn tortillas.

So we pull over. Everyone is so friendly, the food is delicious and we don't even have to human us down on the price. I don't know how we can sell it so inexpensively. We're just honest hardworking people. Many of us don't even have green cards and are lucky to earn minimum wage, yet somehow we always manage to feed the statistically larger family, by comparison. I wouldn't be my choice to work on our cars on the front lawn but hey, we're humans, that's what we do!

BY NUMBSAIN

FREEWAY ANTICS

Here are some hilarious pranks you can play on other drivers to make your daily commute or a long road trip way fun! Remember: Don’t try these at home, try ‘em on the road!

The Submarine:

You’ll need:
4 large ant farms (empty)
1 nautical periscope
7 tubes silicone caulking compound

Seal the ant farms with silicone caulk and affix them to the insides of the windows of the car so that the edges can’t be seen from the outside. Fill the ant farms about halfway with water (a little blue food dye makes the water look deeper). Next find a relatively unpopulated freeway. Slump low in your seat with only your periscope showing above the windows As you pass other drivers slowly turn your ‘eye’ toward them, then forward again and drive on. If you have a good sound system, a recording of the sonar “pinger” sound finishes off this effect nicely.

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The Four-Armed, Horn-Honking, Nose-Picking Motorist:

You’ll need:
1 girlfriend (any close friend or partner of either sex with whom you are intimate will suffice.)

Have your girlfriend lay face down in your lap with her left arm hanging out the window and the right one hidden. Put your right hand on the wheel and hide the left. (Note that this is an excellent opportunity to stroke her hair gently and lightly push her face into your crotch). When you pass another driver, pick your nose with your left hand and have the girl honk the horn with her right hand. The other drivers will think you are a mutant freak with bad manners.

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the Beefjacking

You’ll need:
5 medium sized children
8 raw tri-tip steaks

Have one child lean over the drivers seat from the back seat and steer while you slump out of sight continuing to work the pedals. As you pass the other cars, have the steering child scream for help with a horrified look on his face while the others press the pieces of raw beef against the windows in a slow upward motion making them appear to slowly crawl up and engulf the child. folks will think twice about beating their meat after they’ve seen what beef is capable of.

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Mr Magoo & Scooby-Do

You’ll need:
1 pair of dark sunglasses
1 blind walking stick (we recommend Sightappers®)
1 seeing eye dog harness
1 well trained dog (or)
1 poorly trained dog (and) 1 tube of cyano-acrylate glue

Drive down the street wearing the dark glasses. hold the walking stick out the window, tapping the street lightly with it as you go along. Have the dog riding shotgun wearing the harness with his paws covering his eyes* as if he were saying: “I ran’t rare to rook!” Who knows, you might get on the local news or Nickelodeon.

* If the dog won’t keep his paws over his eyes, you’ll have to glue them. but be humane about it, and explain to him why this is important.

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by numbsain