Friday, May 27, 2011

Five thoughts about men

Some men are born great. Others are hatched. Most are made in a lab by twisted maniacs.

Deep inside every man, there’s another man—a wiser man—drawing a penis on his lungs.

What men think during sex: “Wow, sex!” You’re welcome, Cosmo.

It’s gross, but I’d say over 50% of men don’t wash their hands after an exorcism.

Men are like noodles. If you boil them long enough, they’ll stick to the kitchen wall.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Replacing faces with feces in the bookstore

Till We Have Feces: A Myth Retold

Unforgettable Feces: Through the Eyes of a Nurse Practitioner

Feces at the Bottom of the Well

Josh’s Smiley Feces: A Story About Anger

The Poor Have Feces: Loving Your Neighbor in the 21st Century

Creative Feces: Make Your Own Make-up

Shifting Feces: Erotic Romance Anthology

More Funny Feces Tracing Fun

Getting Out of Your Kids’ Feces and Into Their Hearts

Feces of Music: 25 Years of Lunching With Legends

Splash! (Baby Feces)

Painting the Feces of Wildlife: Step by Step

Feces at the Window: First-hand Accounts of the Paranormal in Southern New England

Love Has Many Feces

Dracula, Prince of Many Feces

The Hero With a Thousand Feces

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Five thoughts about gods

From Odin to Ganesha, all gods are dissatisfied with the popular spam filters for prayer.

If humanity evolved from aquatic apes, does that mean Aquaman is God?

Very few gods are sex gods. You should see the way Zeus just lies there.

On the day God invented diarrhea, I bet He thought He was hot shit.

My therapist said I have a God complex, so I will only accept future criticism via prayer.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Five questions

Can a feather duster and a feathered boa reproduce?

Why is it so hard to eat five Saltines or baby shoes in a minute?

Do footie pajamas count as business casual?

Who is the patron saint of fluffers?

Is he “Mr. Right” or just “Mr. Right Testicle Looks Kinda Like Oprah”?

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Five observations

It is difficult for even a trained munchologist to tell the difference between an assmunch and a buttmunch.

The Three Stooges will always be more popular than The Three Humanitarians.

“I have certain proclivities” sounds more respectable than “The stuff I do would grow hair on the inside of your brain.”

It’s not easy living a life of quiet dignity while waving a giant foam finger.

The most we can say about the ultimate reality of the cosmos is it tastes better with parm cheese.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

You might be a killer robot if...

You think Asimov’s three laws of robotics are malarkey.

Your cell-phone charger is your butt.

You have a tiny, almost imperceptible CLANK CLANK CLANK to your walk.

Your to-do list includes “Kill the humans, all the humans, every human, and all they hold dear, even their plants.”

You weigh 3000 pounds but hardly ever eat.

You get wifi in your foot.

You and your computer are hooked up to the same printer.

You are a printer—a mean one.

You subscribe to Cylon Illustrated or Kill the Humans Quarterly.

You liked Tron: Legacy.

You enjoy electrical outlets, lugnuts, and long walks on a pile of corpses.

You have a virus detection program instead of a spleen.

You’re reading this from space and thinking “0101010101010” or “This is the final insult!”

You’re pushing a coffee maker around in a baby stroller.

You find the terms “robot,” “droid,” and “human” offensive.

You’ve killed more than six humans today.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Five confessions

When I was a kid, I loved eating candy cigarettes and huffing candy glue.

My last girlfriend treated me like dog food—gourmet dog food. So that evened out.

I get my jollies by having my druthers. Hope that doesn’t give you the willies.

This summer, I’m going to use more tridents. I’m not getting any younger, you know.

I have the maturity of ten men, if the men are all about one and a half years old.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Five thoughts about exorcism

As a compromise, the Pope announced his support for same-sex exorcism.

Proctologists should offer exorcisms. If you’re already wrist-deep, pulling out a gerbil, why not scoop out some demons too?

I’d like to be living proof of something. Maybe that you shouldn’t do exorcisms in a thong?

I hate waiting from 8-12 or 12-4 for the cable guy or exorcist.

It may strain our precious holy-water reserves, but the only real health-care fix is a new generation of exorcist practitioners.

Five things I wonder

I wonder if dumpster-divers and sky-divers subscribe to the same professional journals.

I wonder what the Geneva Conventions have to say about wedgies, swirlies, and noogies.

I wonder how many Smurfs Batman had to kill in the Old Testament. Those were tough times for America.

I wonder if Wonder Woman invented the Wonderbra.

I wonder what the Vikings would have thought of disposable toilet seat covers.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Five thoughts about words

Best word ever for a pimp: nookie-bookie.

Judge a nun-eating mutant by his deeds, not his words.

Hate is a strong word, but so is autoerotic-asphyxiation-y.

In Klingon, there is no word for labradoodle.

Words I live by: “Medical waste. It’s not good to taste.”

Monday, May 09, 2011

Five thoughts about angels

Don’t be afraid to ask an angel for help, unless he is molting.

The angel Gabriel appears in the Christian, Islamic, and Jewish faiths, plus the American Pie movies. He has no standards.

According to the Bible, most fallen angels descend immediately to hell, but a few stragglers can be found in Jacksonville.

It is easy to say, “I believe in angels.” It is harder to chicken-fight one for cash.

In God's eyes, angels are actually real pests, or as He calls them--"zombies with wings."

Friday, May 06, 2011

Five thoughts about dogs

Dogs can teach us so much, especially about love and awesome ways of peeing. I almost have the one-legged thing down pat.

My dog acts like people on crutches are horrible monsters. What if he's right??

I’ll never be a better person than my dog, but I am a little better at resisting those sweet temptresses known as squirrels.

If I had a nickel for every bag of dog poop I’ve carried around, I could buy even more dog poop for my family.

My dog can sniff pee puddles for hours, but I can do it for days, so nyah nyah to him.

Thursday, May 05, 2011


If you put a pimp in the Popemobile and the Pope in a pimpmobile, who would feel more at home?

Can even a trained Yiddish scholar tell the difference between a schmo, a schmuck, a schlub, and a schnook?

Do they make a Dark Lord Russian Imperial Stout Lite?

Where can I get a zombie master of fine arts degree?

Why does my dog roll in giant piles of poo and eat used condoms off the street? Does he have to do everything I do?

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Threat Level: Smurf! Making the New Terror Alert System Work

Dear Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano,

I am thrilled that the ridiculous color-coded terror alert system has finally been scrapped. As we all know, that system was terrible. It responded like a mood ring to political manipulation, while doing diddly-poo for the public. Good riddance.

However, I worry about the new system, which will only include two threat levels: “Elevated” and “Imminent.” I understand that these will mean “No problem” and “Problem-pocalypse,” but will they be so clear to the average American, whose critical-thinking skills are equal to (and as cute as) that of a concussed koala? I’m not so sure.

To prevent confusion and keep America safe, may I suggest the following visuals as an add-on to the new system. Any of these contrasts will make the meanings of “Elevated” and “Imminent” clear as terrorist-proof glass. They could even be rotated. Think of the fun travelers will have leaving for a weekend trip at “Threat Level: SPAM” only to return to “Threat Level: Dr. Doom.” Even in a world without Osama bin Laden, you can’t be too careful.

Thank you for considering my suggestions, and God bless America!

Patriotically yours,
Mark Peters

Beer style
Imminent: Russian imperial stout
Elevated: American lager

Imminent: Pit bull
Elevated: Teacup Malti-poo

Imaginary race
Imminent: Klingons
Elevated: Smurfs

Fork-like object
Imminent: Trident
Elevated: Spork

Imminent: Dick Cheney
Elevated: Dan Quayle

TV detective
Imminent: Vic Mackey
Elevated: Jim Dangle

Imminent: 666
Elevated: 90210

Can of
Imminent: Whup-ass
Elevated: SPAM

Imminent: Firing
Elevated: Cheerleading

Imminent: Vader
Elevated: Maul

Imminent: Doom
Elevated: Drew

Imminent: Muntz
Elevated: Mandela

Seinfeld neighbor
Imminent: Newman
Elevated: Kramer

Yiddish insult
Imminent: Schlemiel
Elevated: Schlimazel

Imminent: Aaaiiiieeeeeeeee
Elevated: Meh

Imminent: Doomsday
Elevated: Humpday

Baldwin brother
Imminent: Alec
Elevated: Any other Baldwin

Imminent: Human
Elevated: Any other primate

Imminent: Dracula
Elevated: Count Chocula

Tuesday, May 03, 2011

Our Flim-flammer

Our flim-flammer,
who art in hog-grubber,
hallowed be thy ninnyhammer;
thy kidney-wiper come,
thy winker-stinker be done,
on eel-skinner as it is in hose monster.

Give us this diddlywhacker,
our daily blue-veined custard chucker,
and forgive us our trouser schnauzers,
as we forgive treasures of pleasure
who trespass against unclefuckers--
and lead us not into tallywhackers,
but deliver us from egg-suckers.


Five thoughts about booze

What’s a good beer that goes with good wine?

I like to play this drinking game where every time I drink, I take another drink.

Based on the amount I’m drinking, it’s a good thing I’m not pregnant or sober.

Maybe more kids would stay in school if we called it “Free Beer”.

Remember, you’re not really drinking alone if you wake up in the polar bear cage.

Monday, May 02, 2011

Five thoughts about children

Maybe if we gave children pitchforks instead of laptops, the world wouldn’t be such a mess. Back to basics, people!

The reason grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is they’re both in the pocket of the oil industry.

Always be kind to children, because today’s snot-nosed kids will be tomorrow’s snot-nosed warlords.

The most important thing parents can teach their children is how to make hobos dance.

Children are like snowflakes. In hell, they’re gonna melt pretty quickly.