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Category: humor

A-Hunting We Will Go

A-Hunting We Will Go


I just had a terrifying thought. What if these two guys are sober?

I’m not sure I’d like that. Drunk guys out wandering in the woods with high-powered rifles don’t scare me none. We just call that “hunting season” around here. A drunk person can’t hit anything, so there’s little to worry about. Even the deer just stand there and look at them funny. But I’d be worried about two sober hunters acting like that. They could hit something.

(thanks to our west coast friend Charles Schneider for sending that one along)

How Many More Must Die, And Be Respawned, Before We Stamp Out Duke Nukem Disease?

How Many More Must Die, And Be Respawned, Before We Stamp Out Duke Nukem Disease?


Poor guy. Everyone knows you use the Mighty Foot to make breakfast, not the 9 millimeter.

But it’s nice to see him getting help and support. Of course, there’s little hope for the 156,000,000 guys that think they’re capable of both playing for, and being the general manager, coach, and offensive coordinator of an actual NFL franchise, just because they’ve been playing Madden on the All Pro setting. Maybe we should have a telethon or something. 

Women Have A Lot Of Bad Ideas

Women Have A Lot Of Bad Ideas


I mean, seriously, have you seen what women wear? It’s like circus clothes mostly. And they’ll put anything on their feet. Have you ever tried one of those girlie cocktails they’re drinking in the bar? They taste like cough syrup and Fresca mixed together and strained through an underwear drawer sachet. Women even occasionally get the notion they’re qualified to put their cars into reverse while parking. Honestly, women get bad ideas all day long.

But no woman has ever had a worse idea than leaving a baby at home alone with its father. Evar. Nothing good can come of it. A baby can do pretty fair without adult supervision, it’s true. Dad never can.

I Told You: The Next Guy That Drinks Out Of The Milk Carton I Have In The Fridge Gets It

I Told You: The Next Guy That Drinks Out Of The Milk Carton I Have In The Fridge Gets It


Ah, apartment dwelling. Everyone wants to do something, but no two people want to do the same thing. Everyone surreptitiously eats everyone else’s food, so everyone stops buying any, and eventually you order takeout for every meal. No one fights over anything important, but blood is occasionally drawn over possession of the remote. And no one can get a female of the species to stay in that apartment for more than fifteen minutes at a time after she’s seen the bathroom.