Here’s a very quick (and totally true) story about pirates (you guys know that I have a huge obsessions with pirates, right?), or, to be more precise, a story about one pirate in particular. It’s a super dumb story, and you’re going to love it.
A short transcript of a conversation follows, wherein elusive billionaire Bruce Wayne takes an attractive, young lady to his bedroom.
Girl: Mister Wayne. How about we get these constricting clothes off.
Bruce: I was just about to suggest the same thing, young lady.
Girl: Oh, Mister Wayne, what a fine… wa – wait…
Bruce: What?
Girl: All those… scars. What the fuck?
Bruce: Oh, it’s just…
Girl: What the fuck!?
Bruce: I play polo, that’s all. It’s ra-
Girl: Jesus, fucking Jesus!
Bruce: -rather a dangerous sport. That’s all, don’t worry. Now, where were we…
Girl: Woah, woah. Polo? I’m not an idiot. I’m not a – a – a fucking idiot! Oh, god… you…
Bruce: I… what?
Girl: Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re the fucking Batman, aren’t you.
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*ring ring* *ring ring* *ring ring*
*click*
Operator: Gooooood morning, suicide hotline.
Dave: Uh… hi. My name’s… Dave.
Operator: Well, how do you doodle-e do, Dave?
Dave: … … …
Operator: *audibly smiling*
Dave: Uh, well… not great, obviously.
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There are a lot of reasons why I should hate them, I’ll be honest. Like their neighbours in the land of rock-that-clearly-isn’t-actually-rock music, Coldplay, the Chili Peppers are one of those bands so devoid of personality, that it takes a not-unsubstantial portion of my energy just to hear someone say their name. It’s one of those easy-answer ‘favourite bands’ that are loved by people who aren’t so much fans of the music, but rather just fans of not having to sit in terrifying silence. The spider-feet guitar sounds mixed with the odd clunking bass and the nasal dross that makes up the vocals all congeal into a thick grey paste of oozing weariness that… I’ve just remembered that this wasn’t what this post was supposed to be about. Continue reading
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Me: Okay, time to check Facebook.
Facebook App: Oh, hey. You, uh, want me to open?
Me: Yeah, thanks.
Facebook App: Ooh, might take a while.
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So I was at work yesterday when a young kid came in with his father. He was probably about eight years old, I guess (I’m pretty terrible at estimating kids’ ages), and was dressed from head to toe in a full body Spider-Man suit. Anyway, father and son began wandering the store; the dad was […]
Me: Yes, mother?
Mum: I didn’t text you, so what does ‘yes, mother’ mean? Mind you, it’s always nice to hear from you.
Me: I had a missed call from you earlier. Was that not you? My phone says it was you, and my phone never lies, mother.
Mum: I didn’t call, and I certainly didn’t call early in the morning. I must have sat on my phone or something.
Me: Have you been murdered? Am I now speaking to the person who killed you after you tried calling me for help? Admit it. You have to tell me if that’s true. Come on, man; don’t be a dick.
Mum: I can’t be a dick, I’m a girl; and also, I’m fairly sure that I’m alive. Maybe it was a call from a parallel world.
Me: But why would they have called me? On purpose, you think; or maybe it was solar interference scrambling the satellite signals. Maybe you were calling me from the future. You can’t disprove that.
Mum: Okay, whatever. I’m busy internet shopping. Don’t make me think, it’s scary.
Me: Yeah, the thought of you thinking does chill me to the bone. Tell your knock-off handbags I said hi.
Mum: Handbags are cheaper than psychiatrists.
Me: In your case, however, they clearly aren’t as effective.
Mum: That’s only because I haven’t found the right one.
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Parking Officer: I’m sorry, miss Del Ray, but you can’t park your car here. Lana Del Rey: *runs hand down officer’s cheek* Parking Officer: Uh, yeah. So unless you move it… Lana Del Rey: *catches blood red rose petal that falls from the sky* Parking Officer: Where…? Uh, whatever. Unless you move your car… Lana […]
The white businessman goes in for a black handshake; the black businessman goes in for a normal handshake. The world holds its breath. Everyone stands in silence, waiting to see what’ll happen. … … THEY LAUGH AND FIST BUMP. RACISM IS OVER. EVERYONE CHEERS AND RUNS INTO THE STREETS. NELSON MANDELA SILENTLY WIPES A TEAR […]
Manager (female): I’ve put the new girl on the bar with you tonight, so no distracting her. Me: What do you mean ‘distracting’? Manager: You just… have a way of distracting the female staff. Me: Do I? Manager: You do. Me: How? Manager: You just… do. So don’t. Me: Well, how can I not do […]
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