March 2011

I try. Fail. But try.

Posted on March 30, 2011 | 3 comments

Again and again as it happens.

I was talking to someone not very close to me. Not close as in this is really the only thing I know about them and it was WAY TOO MUCH. I don’t know what it is, other than proximity, that causes people to unburden themselves to me.

I don’t really mind because, on the off chance, I have actually helped people. I don’t like it but I find if I get a solution they leave quicker.

Then there are other times when there’s nothing I can do but stand there. Because to move would probably trigger my flee reflex. I think some of it is because people have been told some things are easier to talk about with strangers. Well, that’s a fucker I’d like to hunt down and staple his scrotum to his forehead then smash him in the face with a baseball bat.

After that, I’d start bringing the pain.

This guy is telling me his wife went on his computer and found out he’d been having assignations. Oh, bad. With members of the same sex. Oh, badder. And, like a pussy, broke down and admitted he’d been doing it in their bed. Oh, baddest.

Fucker blew apart like a dollar store wind chime.

Now I know I should have been sympathetic or attempt to be helpful but I wasn’t. But for only one reason. Because, from the moment he told me what’s been going on in his life, all I could hear in my head was different lyrics, but the music from Escape (The Pina Colada Song):

I was tired of my lady We’d been together too long Like a worn-out recording Of a favorite song So while she lay there sleeping I scanned craigslist in bed And in the casual encounters There was this post that I read

If you like anal intruders And getting chaffed until pain If you’re not into splooging If you have ten inch cock If you’d like your ass to be not so tight Until I blow one on your nape Then I’m the score that you’ve looked for To help you ejaculate.

I didn’t think about my lady I know that sounds kind of mean But me and my old lady Have fallen into the same old dull routine So I emailed Ripper69 Told him I was the right size And though I’m nobody’s poet I thought it wasn’t half bad

Yes I like anal intruders And getting chaffed until pain I’m not much into splooging Have I mentioned I like pain? I’ve got to meet you by tomorrow noon And cut through all this red-tape At a bar called Back Alley’s Where we’ll plan our release.

So I waited with high hopes And he walked in the place I knew his smile in an instant I knew the beard on his face It was my own burly daddy And he said, “Oh it’s you.” Then we laughed for a moment And I said, “I never knew.”

That you like anal intruders Getting chaffed until pain That you’re not into splooging But you like man champagne If you think we can hide it from Mother I’ll go deep in your crease You’re the daddy I’ve looked for Here, let me help you release

Yes, yes, it’s true, all I actually came up with at the time was the chorus but, come on! That alone kept me pretty damn distracted.

Guy’s are gross

Posted on March 23, 2011 | 1 comment

I’m sure that comes as no surprise to anyone. Since birth we’ve tried to out gross one another. It’s not as much fun as it sounds. One reason is guys are also stupid. I mean that as no disrespect to my idiotic brethren. It’s just true. Even the brightest of us have pretty dumb ass tendencies.

That’s why we’re so lovable! If we didn’t have the foible of stupidity just think how more insufferable we’d be? And we do it all for you! Our loved ones.

You’re welcome.

That said, I’m with a few friends and, for whatever reason, oh yeah, that’s right, stupidity, we’re bringing up the grossest things we can think of. Now, to me, none of it was that gross. I guess the reason is there was no set-up. There’s nothing startling about a guy (or girl. I know you’re not that far behind us on the evolutionary gross scale) saying,

“Licking a baboons butt!”

Yeah, it’s gross but it’s too in your face. Gross is like telling jokes. You need to do a reveal.

“Licking a baboons butt!” Yeah, that’s pretty gross. “Then French kissing your mother.” Oh! Yeah, lets’ stop now.

But most guys are so obvious they don’t push it.

Good thing I’m not like other guys, huh?

When it’s my turn, after listening to many truly gross things I will admit but none that turned my stomach, I said,

“Don’t you hate it when you’re taking a shit and water splashes up and hits you in the face because you’re throwing up at the same time?”

Oh look! A think and puke piece!

A guy is showing. . .

Posted on March 16, 2011 | 1 comment

. . .me around his house. Nice house. But, honestly, unless someone is giving you the house, does any guy actually care about a tour? I think it should go, invite me in, show me where booze and food are, show me where I can sit (preferably in front of a television yet out of the way to limit human contact), show me where I can piss, leave.

But, I’m getting one. Carrying a beer so as to assuage the sting. Oh look! A bedroom! Oh look! A home office! Oh look! A couch with what looks like to me two dead kids!

Turns out they weren’t actually dead. They were actually teenagers. And, if we know nothing else about this teenage generation, they sure as hell love to conserve energy. I know they’re playing a video game because I hear the carnage but I’m not seeing, what I would consider, movement.

But, no time to linger! A tours a happening!

Oh look! A hallway! Oh look! A room with a gun case I’m pretty sure I can break into if the need arises.

The tour, mercifully, comes to an end. And not a moment too soon. For I was out of adult beverage.

We pass through the room where the kids are ‘playing’ and, just like medical cadavers, they haven’t moved. At all. Same positions. Same locked stares. Even the father of, I have to assume or hope, at least one of them notices and says,

“What is going on here?”

“Shhhh!” I say. “It’s a test of the emergency inert system. If this had been actual inertia you would have been instructed to call your local mortuary.”

And with that the tour is over and, for my good behavior, I am rewarded a frosty adult beverage.

And a chair.

Away from all others.

1 Comment

Posted in Comedy

#funny #humor #boundandgags #comedy #chriszell