Category: Humor

Various things designed to get you to expel air in an unplanned manner while showing more teeth than you usually do.

  • Low Information Voters Confused

    Making up one's mind can be a pickle!

        Despite the fact that the presidential election season has been going on for almost two full years, pockets of “low information voters” are still undecided, perplexed and generally in the dark.

        They are still not sure who to vote for on election day or who is running. 

        “I like a president who wears Sunday-go-a-courting clothes and who knows his gozintas–– like two gozinta four two times and three gozinta ten three times and change,” said one befuddled low information undecider.

        Many of these low information voters are frustrated because they feel rushed. “Why do we have to make up our minds every four or five years like this? Why can’t we just have a king like they do in those king-run countries like you see in cartoons? Seems to me we all ought to take a deep breath and think this thing through a bit more,” said the man breaking into sobs. “I just need some more noodle time is all I’m saying.”

        One determined undecided voter says he has a secret weapon. “I’m going to flip a quarter in the voting booth. Heads, I vote for George Washington. Tails, I vote for the eagle. Easy breezy!”

        Happy voting.

  • God Save The Queen (Pt. 5)

     

    My benefactor, my hero!
    My benefactor, my hero!

        Apparently the readership of this blog is much larger and more influential than I thought.

        A certain kind woman across the pond has read my tragic story of getting fleeced by the evil Peter TS Wong has taken pity on me. She has sold a few family jewels and spotted me some cash to tide me through the tough times ahead.

        In return, I will have to do some work around her house– doing bothersome tasks like cleaning out the gutters, scrubbing and sanitizing toilets, helping pull taffy and the like. I will perform my duties gladly. She has saved me from ruin.

        Of course, should Mr. Wong finally come through with the money he promised, I’ll be able to blow-off the old bird and her menial tasks and drink caviar-flavored champagne instead.

        Until then, I am a humble servant to me-lady.

  • Curse you, Wong! (Pt. 4)

     

    How I hate you, Mr. Wong!
    Wong is Satan!

         Lying is not nice.

         Making someone THINK they are going to be rich and then not coming through with the do re mi is evil.

         Robbing someone of their life savings through skullduggery is downright cruel.

        As of today, I am broke. Tap city. Busted. Effective today, consider me President of the “I Hate Mr. Peter TS Wong” Club.

        From this point on, I will be suspicious of e-mails that promise great fortune in return for personal financial info. Apparently there are dishonest people out there and they are bad. Sorry, I lost my cool. Rats! I think this barrel has termites…

  • A Precarious Situation (Pt. 3)

     

    The only thing in my pockets is pockets!
    The only thing in my pockets is pockets!

        I’ve been getting a lot of calls lately from bill collectors and such demanding payment on some of the purchases I’ve made since I thought I would be in Richie Richville. It seems my bank account and 401-K funds have been bled dry by someone I’ve never met– a Mr. Wong, allegedly from Hong Kong, who claimed he’d slather me with over $125 million cool ones in exchange for my financial information.

        It seemed like a pretty good deal to me. Swap some stupid financial account numbers and passwords for a big honking payday. Sweetness!

        Now I’m feeling a bit the fool. I’m starting to think the whole deal was a ruse– maybe there is no $125 million. Youch!

        The worst part is the ironic thing that happened today: I’ve received an e-mail from a Nigerian Prince. Seems he can make me $256,000,000 if I just give him some of my personal financial info so that he can cut through the red tape and free-up his family’s fantabulous wealth. A great opportunity has fallen into my lap and I don’t have a pot to pee in. Woe is me.

        Mr. Wong, if you’re reading please cut me a check for some of my $125 million. A Nigerian Prince and I are both counting on you to do the right thing. Act now… PLEASE!

  • Wong Don’t Make Right (Pt. 2)

     

    HELP, Mr. Wong!
    HELP, Mr. Wong!

         It seems I may have been a wee bit premature in declaring my independent stinking fat-cat wealth recently.  Apparently Mr. Peter T S Wong of Heng Seng Bank Hong Kong is too busy to cut me my check for $125,750,000 as promised.

         In the meantime, I have incurred some substantial debt with some necessary purchases: a solid gold anvil (which proves my excellence in blacksmithery), a diamond-encrusted can koozie, a satchel of ‘magic beans’ I purchased from a desperate wizard and a Pizza Hut Pizza with everything on it– and I do mean everything, including the originals of the Magna Carta and Constitution of the United States (making it one very pricey pie).

         Mr. Wong, I am at your mercy. Please cut me my check ASAP and we’ll remain BFF, I swear!

  • Hitting The Hong Kong Jackpot (Pt. 1)

     

    Who'd have thought reading e-mail could be so enriching?
    Reading e-mail is very enriching!

        While the world economy melts down like a candle in a blast furnace, I just received the opportunity of a lifetime in my e-mailbox:        “My name is Mr. Peter T S Wong director of operations in Heng Seng Bank Hong Kong, I have a Business proposal in the tune of 125,750,000USD.”  

        I will not print the entire e-mail because frankly this communication is a private matter between myself and my generous benefactor, Mr. Peter T S Wong. The gist of the deal-e-o is this:  I get $125 million cool ones after I give Mr. Wong some personal information about myself like my bank account numbers, investment account info, passwords, social security number and such. No biggie. I suppose he just wants to know I’m a good guy who’s fiscally responsible and not some deadbeat schmuck.

        Fair enough, Mr. Peter T S Wong! The info is yours. 

        Cynical folks might wonder why a stranger in Hong Kong would contact me out of the blue with the opportunity to cash in on $125,750,000. Well, I don’t look no gift bankers in the mouth, so you can keep your cynicism to yourself, pal–– I smell the stench of envy on you, and I suppose not even a shower of Brut 33 will mask that.

        I’m a lucky man, and I thank my lucky stars to have somehow been contacted by Mr. Peter T S Wong. For now, I’m going to do my level best to jump start this stagnant world economy. I’m going on a massive spending spree. Hey, I’ve almost got my hands on a huge fortune and it’s burning a hole in my pocket.

        Thanks, Mr. Peter T S Wong for helping me move to Easy Street.