Michael Vick is going to jail for a while.
I think this is a good time to start up a convict fighting ring.
Poke
Technorati: Michael Vick, Poke, The Poke Show
Fight Some Dogs At Humor Blogs.
This is a picture of The World’s Tallest Man meeting The World’s Smallest Man earlier this year. Take a second and let this image blow your friggin’ mind.
First off, he ate the little guy like thirty seconds later, right? I mean, as soon as the camera guys and reporters got what they needed he swallowed that little dude like a Courtney Cox (the porn star, not the Courtney Cox-Arquette) swallows a slice of lunch meat.
But let’s say that didn’t happen (even if that is exactly what the liberal media would want you do). What if thirty seconds later they decided to go out on a date? It is feasible. We live in the new millennium, do we not? When you grow up as an outcast (which I think it is obvious that these two probably did), do you not hold true to the ideal that size doesn’t matter as much as a good sense of humor and steady income?
I know this is crazy talk, but let’s just talk crazy for a second. This implausibly tall man and this puzzlingly small man could fall in love and live heightily ever after. It could happen.
And that very possibility, that it could happen, is why I am writing this open letter to The World’s Smallest Man.
Dear Mr. World’s Smallest Man,
Don’t date him. Don’t do it. He is too tall for you.
Sure, gazing up into his shins feels like tiny heaven now, but what happens when his those same shins seem as distant as his navel? What will you do then? What happens when cuddling with his big toe no longer makes you feel grateful? What happens when you suddenly want to feel the touch of his ridiculously long fingers, but he won’t bend over to touch you seeing as how he would topple over and look like a big silly tall guy toppling over because he reached down to touch a little guy who was whining about fingers and toes? Not so quick with the answers on that one are we?
Tall men are good for a lot of things - playing basketball, getting Frisbees off roofs, retrieving cats from trees, holding up a steel rod during lightning storms, etc. They are also fun for a lot of things - improvising a midget porn scene, etc. But they are absolutely no good for dating if you are small.
Your friend in shortness (I’m only two inches…from the ground!),
Poke McPokerton
But back here in reality we know that things this insane never, ever happen.
Poke
Technorati: tallest man, smallest man, dating, insane, Poke, The Poke Show
Rise Above At Humor Blogs.
This chick at work sometimes brings her little boy into the office after hours as she gets some work done. Tonight I had to be up there a little late so I got the pleasure of dealing with the little terror as I tried to finish up my oh-so-important crap.
Being a good person and a teacher of children, I tried to get him to punch this other asshole that was up there for some of the overtime boogaloo. But the damn kid wouldn’t punch the asshole. I asked him if he even knew what a “punch” was, and he vigorously shook his head “no”.
So I go to his mom, tell her she has a good kid cause he doesn’t know the meaning of the word “punch” meaning he’ll have less violence in his life, and she proclaims, “He knows what it means. He knows how to fight.”
The kid walks up. I ask, “You know how to fight?”
You know those moments in life where you get a glimpse of the immediate future and want to stop it but can’t cause your body and mind are on a collision course with fate and your extra-sensory visions do not compute with the Apple II you have upstairs?
When I asked, “You know how to fight?” I had one of those moments. As the words slipped from my mouth, I envisioned a world in which the kid would respond with a swift punch to my pistachios. And then I could see the little booger’s fist tightening. I could trace the motion of his bony little arm as he swung it back to its furthest reach so as to obtain maximum hurtitude. And I could see the look of utter disregard for the possible future children swimming around in my squishy almonds cross his face. Yet all my seeing and all my pre-knowledge could not stop his tiny fist from crushing my cashews or mashing my macadamia.
As I limped away in pain and confusion I thought to myself, That kid’s a fuckin’ nutcracker!
Poke
Technorati: Poke, The Poke Show, nuts, punch
Protect Your Almonds At Humor Blogs
As I drove home from work today, I stopped by a Chik-fil-A. I noticed many signs in the parking lot that read “Costumer Appreciation Week“. I thought to myself, Maybe I’ll get a free sandwich, or maybe one of the servers at the drive-thru window will flash me. Turns out, all the appreciation was reserved for “inside customers”.
A nice looking, but fully clothed young lady handed me my food and my oh-so-sweet tea.
I asked if I could have a straw.
She told me it was in the bag.
I drove away.
About a block away, I discovered that the little slut was a filthy, lying whore.
Not only was there no straw, but I got the feeling that the dude in the fancy Lexus behind me was at that very moment getting a nice view of her supple breasts.
“Customer Appreciation Week” my ass.
Poke
Technorati: customer, customer appreciation, fast food, Poke, The Poke Show
Ice Rocket: customer, customer appreciation, fast food, Poke, The Poke Show
You Know Who Appreciates Customers? Humor Blogs.
They say you can tell a lot about a person just by looking at their car. Take me for instance, I drive a slow white van with transmission problems. That is exactly me.
But you can also tell a lot about a hippie by looking at their hippie bus.
If their hippie bus is covered with bumper stickers that say things like “No War” or “The Only Bush I Trust is the One Between My Legs”, then they are a political hippie.
If their hippie bus is covered with grass or some AstroTurf, then they are an environmentalist hippie.
If their hippie bus is covered with porcelain animal figurines, then they are a PETA hippie.
If their hippie bus is covered with many different colors of paint, then they are a drug addicted hippie.
If their hippie bus has the same paint it did when it rolled off the factory floor, then they are a nudist hippie.
And if their hippie bus is leaking oil and making a lot of noise for no discernible reason, then they are a menstruating femi-nazi hippie.
Which brings me to the dirty, hairy hippie girls. I don’t get it. What’s the use of being free with nudity if men run away every time you raise your arm? And why be so into free love if your lover(s) need David Livingstone’s collected maps to reach your hippie festival?
Poke
Technorati: hippie, hippie bus, dirty hippie, hairy hippie, hippie girls, Poke, The Poke Show
Shave It All Off At Humor Blogs
