Category Archives: Humour

Mr. Sandman

I have this friend, Sal. Honest.

He’s not like lame sitcom dialogue, in “I have this “friend”, way.” He’s an honest to g-d living, breathing, human being. He lives in Philly. So maybe he’s not “living”. For g-d’s sake, he lives in a town that has a National League team! ewww.

Anyhoo, we were talking the other night and he starts laughing. Like many of us do while on the phone, he was multi-tasking. With Sal, that means going on-line to look for…well…..some might call them ‘dates’. Most would call it, a ‘hook-up’ or ‘bootie call’ or something.

Let’s call it what it is;  he was cruising on-line.

I know which site he was on, but won’t reference it here. Let’s just say there are legitimate aspects to said site – not that finding tail isn’t a legitimate aspect. But they have articles and information about lots of things. But that’s not what Sal was looking for/at.

So why was he laughing? Because of this profile:

Visit me in upstate NY expenses paid-jerk me off with pliers, sandpaper, and steel wool, burn my dick, beat my balls, and ream my pee hole with an electric drill, send a private message!!


Actually, Sal had me laughing so hard reading it, I made him promise to copy the text and email it to me – which is why and how you have it right this very second.

At first I thought he was making it up, but really – who could do that? It fell off his tongue too easily to be fabricated on the spot. Our conversation deteriorated right into me asking him to ask the guy what grade of sandpaper would he require. Sal shot back with, Palm, Orbital or Belt? He actually sent the guy a message – to which the guy did not seem to get the question. Or the joke.

There were some things about fiberglass too – on our end. Well, we thought it was funny. Maybe it had just been a long day.

So, naturally I knew this would end up here eventually, but I shared it with my trusted email group beforehand. It ran the gamut of comments actually. Jon had the best worst ones – ones I am not willing to share here. Let’s say he gave me the same initial reaction I had when Sal read me the posting: to cross my legs and cover my genitalia.

If my sex life is vanilla, so be it. I don’t need a Brillo pad or a Dewalt power drill to spice things up. Why anyone would wanted to do that to their schwing-schwong is beyond me.

Dity of course, cursed us for our conversation. Not because of the graphic nature, but because Gooooogle started sending her ads that said . If you haven’t noticed, Yahoo, Google and the likes will tailor their ads to what you’re writing or reading. It is so 1984.

Anyway, back to Sal’s potential suitor:

On one hand the ad is completely sick and twisted. But on the other, it is an all expense paid trip!

Song by: Linda Ronstadt, Dolly Parton & Emmylou Harris


Never Say Never

It is the law of averages, actually.  And a matter of time.

There are X amount of rest rooms in the United States. The N in this equation is how many of said rest rooms use a certain make of personal hygiene tissue dispensing system.

It was bound to happen.  And knowing how things go, it was bound to happen to me.

To be honest, after seeing the name of the device, I was just kind of biding my time, with iPhone in hand (or pocket, as it were).

Song by: Romeo Void

Come to Jesus

I love walking around work the day after Mardi Gras.  All these people with ashes on their forehead.

But I’m loving the someecards that I came across my email yesterday.

People might find religion, or at least find it more interesting or tolerable if it were limited to 140 characters.

Song by: Mindy Smith

Crapped Out Again

We were out and about the other week (yeah, I store images for when I’m looking for things to throw up here……well, not vomit like throw-up) and out in a parking lot was a collection spot for old computers, disk drives, mice and the likes.

If you haven’t clicked the image to enlarge it (and really, shouldn’t you?), you might miss their wonderful URL.

Sure, I suppose to the untrained eye, it could be IT Scrap.  To me, I saw: Its Crap (clearly the apostrophe is missing).   I guess it works on multiple levels.

I can’t say that folks working there found it that amusing when I pointed it out……or took the picture, from the comfort of my car.

Song by: Keb Mo

Every Picture Tells a Story

It’s Sunday.   What can I say?  I’m being lazy.

My sister was nice enough to provide me the below picture, which came from the NYT site.

I assume she meant for me to use it on the blog – though she didn’t say so specifically.  Either way, I’m running with it.

Let’s face it, if I could have snapped the pic myself I would have.  But someone did the work for me, as I was not over in England.

Tomorrow should have a more ‘real’ blog entry than this one.  But it is still funny and it made me laugh.

Song by:  Rod Stewart


I should have a better post for today, but I don’t.

I took my last work trip (in this job) yesterday and drove through lovely ice storms both ways. What should have been a 3.25 hour drive, took 4.75 hours. Tons of cars off the road. SUVs landing on their roofs. Seven car pile-ups. You name it.

I would have taken pictures of it all, but I wasn’t about to take my hands off the wheel.

But I finally get to my clinic and was sitting with my staff in their break room when I notice the sign they have hung on the door.

Yes, they are a crack staff – aren’t they?

I didn’t completely want to shame them, so I didn’t say anything, but someone must have seen me look at it, because when I came back to take picture of it, it was gone. Thrown away in the trash.

I was broken-hearted that you all would not see it, until I decided to retrieve it from said refuse can (it was sitting right on top – it wasn’t like I was dumpster diving).

Sorry gang, it’s all I’ve got for today.

Song by: Five Man Electrical Band

Battle Room

It turns out Twitter is good for more than just the random 140 character immediate thoughts. It’s also good for pointing out web absurdities.

A guy who follows me (and vice versa) twatted the below Craigslist post, which is destined to become a ‘Best Of’ entry. Click on image below to embiggens the ad.

First – a rent controlled apartment in the East Village.
Second – revenge.

How sweet is that?

Becky thinks I’d be perfect for the job, as she “thinks” I am good at making fake sounds in the bedroom.   Clearly she knows people.  And shetwatted it to anyone who follows here.  Great.

To be honest, I hope the post is real and I hope he gets what he needs.  Rent controlled apartments are hard to come by anymore.

Song by: Michael Penn