Swearing toddler taken into custody

[Huffington Post headline]

What the fuck? Hey, I can walk, asswipe!

Stop calling it toddling. and get your filthy meathooks off me!  Son of a bitch! Pedophile!

Where’s my mom, motherfucker? Yeah, I still nurse. What’s it to you, hornbag? Nurse on this!

I grab one extra piece of motherfucking birthday cake and Jamie’s mom shits a brick. Who am I, Curious George? What a cunt. If my mom was like that, I’d shoot the bitch.

Alright. You don’t care? Unnngggg. Nnggg. There. Right in my motherfucking pants.! Enjoy the smell.

Hey, pussface. I’m a min-or. You put me in there with these drunk druggie faggots and I will ream you out. I will eat your ‘nads. Yes, bro, I will fuck you up.

Fine. Slam that door. When I get out of here, I will stick my foot so far up your ass, a croc will come out your earhole. I will stab you in the eye with my Barbie. I will dig up Mister Rogers, cut off his head, and leave it at the foot of your motherfucking bed. Clown-turd.

Oh, hi, Mom. School was ok and so was the birthday party. What’s for dinner tonight?

Mummy’s Erect Penis Explained At Last

[headline, Huffington Post]

This immediately raises the question: if the Rapture happens at this moment and your penis is erect, will you automatically be left behind? Must you be flaccid to enter into Heaven? And what if St. Peter is a really good-looking dude?

Second-class sort of additional question: if you’re handling an erect penis (not your own) at Rapture time, does this disqualify you as well?

Unless, in either case, procreation is your goal?

But even then, should you be handling the thing like that?

And why must it always be about the male member? What about that female mummy found wearing a thong? Or the one with the humongous ta-tas? I’ve got penis fatigue.

The mummy wasn’t headed for heaven anyway. Several thousand years worth of Egyptians when they died were vectored right up to Aaru, the Egyptian reed fields, where Osiris reigned after displacing Anubis.

Yes, Anubis. Say it slowly. Ahhh NUBE    isss. No worries about erect penises with that dude. He doted on them. This is why the ancient Egyptian taxidermists were sometimes paid by the family of the deceased to stuff his male member to its fullest, and sometimes beyond, before doing the mummy wrap.

My uncle, who owned a funeral home, used to do the same thing, but in his case, just for laughs.

Man Arrested 56 Times Going To Work

[Huffington Post headline]

1. The police made me put on my pants.

2. The police made me tuck myself in and zip up.

3. I wore a kilt. The wind blew it up inappropriately.

4. I wore my “girl clothes.” Fell off my stilettos and my mini rucked up inappropriately.

5. Stopped halfway to work and was denied the employees-only bathroom in the local hardware store. Protested by doing my business in Garden Supplies.

6. Took a mental-health and cocaine half-day before leaving for work. Jumped in car, backed out of driveway, across the street, and into neighbor’s living room.

7. Walking to work, shot a menacing dog with my .45. Chihuahua. They’re the worst!

8. Shot a black cat. Didn’t like the way it was looking at me. At all.

9. Passed an elementary school while walking to work. Wore my “slash monster” rubber mask for playground laughs.

10. Passed the school wearing my “I’M NOT A PEDOPHILE” sandwich board.

11. Grabbed a doughnut out of Sgt. O’Reilly’s bag.

12. Took the bus. Old lady squawked at me for not getting up. Thwacked her in the knees with her cane.

13. Too much Zoloft. Headed for work while still asleep, on foot in the freeway fast lane, wrong direction. Wrong traffic direction, I mean, but I was heading correctly toward work.

14. Decided to drive to work. Forgot to inform neighbor I was taking his car.

15. Informed neighbor that I was taking his car. Forgot to inform him what I was putting in the trunk.

16. Borrowed neighbor’s car and forgot to stop, or even slow down, at occupied pedestrian crosswalk.

17. Borrowed neighbor’s car and got into a race over on Deadman’s Curve. Aptly named!

18. Borrowed neighbor’s car. Stopped on way to work to visit friend in hospital. Parked badly, totally blocking the door to the emergency room.

19. Stopped at Starbucks on the way to work. Got into a fight with a guy who didn’t like Rush Limbaugh.

20. Stopped at Starbucks on the way to work. Got into a fight with a guy who didn’t like Adolph Hitler.

21. Stopped at Starbucks on the way to work. Got into a fight with a guy who didn’t like Satan and all his dark angels.

22. Stopped at Dunkin Donuts on the way to work. Too many doughnuts brought on sugar rage.

23. Joined car pool. Liberal demanded “shotgun.” Couldn’t let that stand.

24. Car pool full of “blue” riders. Spray-painted one guy’s car red. Ha ha.

25. Didn’t realize my work got a restraining order against me.

26. Almost made it through the front door despite the order.

27. Almost made it through the back door despite the order.

28. Almost tunneled in from the building next door despite the order.

29. Hang glider missed the roof, from which I was going to drop through a skylight despite the order.

30 Almost made it from my suburb to the city limits of the city where my job is, despite the judge expanding the retraining order to include the whole city.

31. Restraining order lifted when I claimed to be terminally ill. Almost made it through front door at work before police discovered my “test results” came from Hillview Animal Hospital.

32. Beat up  by black men on the way to work and the police take me in, for “inciting?” All I said to them was… aw, forget it.

33. Beat up by Puerto Ricans and the police take me in? For inciting again?

34. Beat up by orientals and I get taken in? I don’t even speak Chinee.

35. Beat up by some guys, I don’t know what they heck they were. What’s happening to America?

36. Beat up by women. How low can you go?

37. Didn’t get beat up by anybody. Police were protecting me, just to avoid the paperwork when I get beat up, but then took me in anyway just because of stuff I said to one of them. How could he have been in the police, anyway. From his accent, he wasn’t  born here. No way.

37. Fresh start! Clean and sober. Taken into custody by a beat patrolman because my zipper got stuck during a comfort stop in a little green park on my way to work. Snap! If that’s what snap means, in this context.

38. Got up whistling this morning. Hi ho, hi ho. Off to work I go! Stopped on the way to tease a dwarf and got collared for it.

39. I haven’t worked in thirty-nine days. I’m flat broke. And I get hauled in for boosting a couple of lousy doughnuts? The world has gone mad.

40. I haven’t worked in forty days and forty nights. Seemed like a sign, so I tried to mug a priest.

41. They probed me. Call me crazy, but it happened. The company put me on the night shift, to see if I could get in to work that way. I was driving through the woods on the way into town. Two in the morning. It was a strange glowing saucerlike thing that came down. The car engine stopped. Little green men, I swear to God.

42. Yes, forty-two days away from my baby. She’s there, working in the next cube, and I’ve been kept from her. I fell in love the moment I saw her. She never felt the same way, she said, probably because she’s a lesbian, but still. If I can only get back there and take her in my arms. Struggling against me or not. It won’t happen today though. I saw a woman at a bus stop who looked like her… I’ll get out of lockup tonight. It was a misunderstanding.

43. That’s the way love is. Rough. You can’t live wtihout someone and for some crazy reason, they hate you. But you can paw somebody else at a bus stop day after day and still walk free after a brief arrest, this being America. That’s something, at least.

44. I got a call that I’ve been reassigned to our office down by the docks. Heading for work, just for grins I swiped a guy’s fish out of his creel. He came after me and I slapped him with the fish. I’ve got to stop this sort of humorous behavior.

45. I want to go to work. I’ve got to go to work. This morning, I walked out of the jailhouse because the fisherman didn’t press charges. It turns out his fish had more mercury in its liver than a thermometer, so I saved him from heavy-metal poisoning when I employed the creature as a weapon. I headed down toward work but ran into a crowd of brown-skinned people getting off a boat. Assuming them to be a bunch of illegals, I started making citizen arrests. Wow. It was one of those cruise ships. Folks from some third-world country coming here as tourists? Where did they get the money? Stole it from U.S. tourists down there?

46. Read an article about urban renewal. Walking through my lousy neighborhood on the way to work today, I began lighting houses on fire.

47. Away from work for 47 days, I’m broker than broke. Stopped on my to finally get back on the job and borrowed some money from Moe the Shark, at usurious rates. His betting parlour got raided while I was in there and off we went in the paddy wagon.

48. Now after one day Moe wants his money back with interest, plus the bail he fronted me yesterday. Moe, I said, how am I going to pay you back? I never made it to work. Give me another day. Meantime I had to find my breakfast in a McDonald’s dumpster. Who knew you could get arrested for dumpster diving. Just because the neighborhood I was passing through was so hoity toity.

49. Moe, I said, I still haven’t got to work. Just let me go in today and tomorrow and the next day and you’ll get everything I earn. But no. He wants to break my legs, so I have to break his. His brother is a police detective. Very protective.

50. I sank to my lowest point today. I figured the only way I was going to get to work was to put myself in the hands of God. I walked over to the St. Olga Cathedral to pray. I think that might have done the trick, except that I was so worried about my outstanding loans and the interest accruing to Moe in his wheelchair, that I snatched a gold candlestick. The Cathedral is lousy with sacred gold objects. But God was looking out for His candlestick more than for me.

51. Fifty-one days. Fifty damn days in a row, arrested. My boss called me before I got out of bed and pleaded with me to stay in the house this morning. He’s sending a limo to get me. The yard is full of reporters. For some reason, this is all giving the company a bad name. My boss just wants me in there, out of sight and out of the news. I’m waiting but these reporters are starting to steam me. I have the right to chuck a few flower pots at them from my kitchen window, don’t I? King in his castle and all that?

52. Who knew you can’t attack reporters on your own lawn. Now they’re back, thicker than ever. Firing shots with my Kalashnikov didn’t help, except to bring in a SWAT team. After me.

53. Got unarrested because this is a big gun-right area and I didn’t kill anybody yesterday. Today accidentally started a riot on the lawn and got taken in with all the brawling reporters. I had started a bidding war for the rights to my story.

54. Sold the rights to my story to one of the reporters in the tank with me and instructed him to give the money to Moe, so Moe and me are quits. The payout was high enough to cover Moe’s therapy. He will walk again. In front of the police station, a couple of the other reporters gave me a hard time for rejecting their offers, and I had to straighten them out and get arrested again.

55. Nothing could stop me  from getting to work today, except a squirrel I dodged, ramming a school bus.

56. I set out for work on foot. Took one step at a time. Halfway there, the tension from waiting for something to happen became so severe that I sat down indian-style on the sidewalk, to gather my wits, meditate, and calm down before continuing. The crowd just parted and flowed around me. A beat cop said something about panhandling but I ignored him, until he cuffed me.

57. Made it to work. Hooray. Hope I can get home again this evening.

This Bag Could Change The Way You Cook Forever

No, I’m not talking about my wife, bah boom. Ok, that’s not funny. Thoughts about my wife’s cooking may be found in my NYT editorial, “Nature Gets Even.”

First, let me ask you: do you cook with bags? If so, what are those bags made of? Some variety of cloth? Trousers with their legs tied in a knot and the zipper up, for example?

I have to know your bag habits before I can help you. You can’t just ask me for some random bag hints and expect success to ensue. You’ve got to know bags. You’ve got to have eaten the goddamn nectar of the gods out of bags.

You put the makins (ingredients) into just any bag and expect something edible to emerge, not to mention being ambrosial in its essence, you’re dreaming. You don’t know bags.

First of all, a bag, it has one opening. You try to cook something in what you call “a bag” but it’s got two openings, no way! That’s not a bag! Or even a sack. Or a sac, which may be a whole different thing there.

Which reminds me, do you spend much time with your vacuum bags? If you’re like me, there is nothing more exciting than taking a full bag out to your special corner workspace and opening it up to see what treasures you might find within. No treasures to be picked up by the vacuum in your house? No problem! Creep you neighbors’ houses and “borrow” their bags. Or  vacuum their carpets with your machine. Get under those sofas and ottomans and futons. What an  adventure! I have found things… but I better not get too specific, in case one of my neighbors is reading this.

I was first inspired by tea bags. I used them but then one day I said to myself, hey, why  dip this bag in boiling water? Why not bust it open, replace its contents with stuff I like better, and then just go ahead and smoke the thing? You know? How it is when you get thoughts right out of the ether like that? When you’ve been smoking already?

You see where I’m going here? “Cook” the contents of the bag, don’t cook it. Who needs food? I gave up on food a long time ago. At least, it seems like a long time ago. I’ve opened up the portals. In fact, it’s hard getting some of the portals shut again. But without food involved, they can just hang open, no worries.