Tag Archives: Humor

She Bops, He Bops, We Bop

Disclaimer: This post is in no way about writing. If you’re interested in those kind of posts you can read them here.

Ps_sb1 I’m a Christian. I’m not the sort of Christian who’s going to refuse to sell you something because of how you chose to live your life. I’m not going to boycott or picket anything in particular. I’m just trying to live my life as best I can and love those around me. Having said that, I’m going to share my unvarnished opinion on a sensitive topic.

Masturbation and our attitudes towards it are hilarious to me. Let me back up just a second. I saw a post on social media yesterday. It was a picture of of some guy I’ve never heard of who said, and I paraphrase, “Something about me is called a sin 25 times in the Bible. People used to be persecuted for it. Thankfully attitudes are changing and most people no longer have a problem with my being left handed.” Now, obviously, this was a jab at some Christians’ attitudes towards homosexuality and the changing landscape. It was a much deserved jab. Unfortunately it was mis-directed. A much better target would have been masturbation.

There are a lot of things that feel so damn good. One of them is taking a good dump. Have you ever just had, you should forgive the expression, a religious experience while having a bowel movement? One that left you feeling light headed and relieved? If not, I feel sorry for you. Another thing that feels ridiculously good, when done right, is polishing the pole/rubbing one out/jacking it (or for my female readers polishing the pearl?). A long time ago, when people still though that that bleeding you of excess humors was the pinnacle of medical science, someone decided that doing that was a bad idea. There was a ridiculous amount of shame attached to it. They developed torture device to prevent you from performing “self abuse”. They used the excuse that God doesn’t like it. You’ll end up going blind, growing hairy palms, and being ultimately cast in a lake of fire. None of the above is remotely true.

leftyI’ve read the Bible a lot. There are lots of interesting things that you didn’t read in Sunday school. Masturbation with holy relics is in there. Ejaculating copious amounts, like a donkey if memory serves, is mentioned at least once. A women who has breasts as big as fawns. Okay, so that may have just been my thirteen year old brain talking. But let me tell you, Song of Solomon was a very stimulating book to read when I couldn’t find a Sears catalog. One thing I was never able to find was the notion that taking care of your own business in private was an “issue” (that was a pun).

I know, there are people (who probably haven’t read this far) that will tell me that sex is a holy thing and it’s intended for two people in the bonds of matrimony. Sexing up yourself isn’t that. To which I say yes and yes. I also say, everyone does it. As my gal Cyndi says, “She bop, he bop, and we bop”. Bop is clearly talking about masturbating, in case you didn’t know it. Forget “Everybody Poops”, I want to see a book called “Everybody Bops”. I’d like to think that the left handed guy up there, who no doubt bops with his sinister hand, would join with me in saying that there ain’t no law against it and that includes God’s law. I hope that society’s attitude, particularly in Christian circles, is changing regarding the alone time. Frankly I couldn’t give a toss (another pun) if it does. So long as the privatest of behavior isn’t interfering with your life, health, and relationships then I don’t see the harm in it.

Toaster Toast

This story was inspired by a photo taken from a collection of stock photos. Click here to see them.

IMG_1885 Helen had been a spokes-model for nearly five years now. She felt certain that anything she held would benefit by her just being in the same shot with it. She never dreamed that she’d face a challenge as great as she did that fateful October day.

“It’s a piece of bread!” She felt her fingernails digging into her palms, but the sensation was distant.

Sully shook his head. “It’s Toaster Toast. The new client feels like it will blow the roof off of the breakfast food market.” He pointed to the white square. “Look, you can do this. I have faith in you.”

“I was patient when you had me sell Instant Water. I gritted my teeth when you put me on the Raisin Magic kit. They were just selling old grapes for crying out loud. I put my reputation on the line when you give me this kind of crap.” She unscrewed the lid from her Smart Water and took a long swallow. She instantly felt smarter.

“If we didn’t trust you then we wouldn’t do this.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “This may seem silly to you and me, but we need to think of the big picture. If you’d come to my grandfather fifty years ago, when he started this company, and told him that there would be a market for powdered juice aimed at kids or that they’d put squares of chocolate in breakfast cereal he would have laughed you out of the room. Our job isn’t to judge our clients or their consumers. It’s to take their ideas and make sure that they sell, sell, sell.”

She looked down at the floor for a heartbeat and then back up. The million watt smile was back on her face. “Okay, I can do this.” Moments later she was in front of the camera, and once again when people saw her face and how much she obviously loved the product, they bought it in droves.

Merry Widow(er)

This story was inspired by a photo taken from a collection of stock photos. Click here to see them.

enhanced-6131-1400068422-1Here at Fisher Brothers Funeral Services we know how sad it can be when you die and no one shows up. Granted it’s not sad for the dearly departed, but a person’s legacy has a lot to do with how they’re perceived after they die. That prompted us to start the Rent-A-Mourner last year and that has gone incredibly well both for us and for our clients. Sure, we got some pushback, but hiring mourners is a tradition that goes back thousands of years. All one has to do is look at the services following the passing of author Bill Jones* to see how that tradition pays off in modern times. His sales in life were mediocre, but after his widow hired a crowd from Fisher Brothers and the press covered the event, his back catalog sales went through the roof.

Desiring to stay on the cutting edge of the industry we’ve recently started a new program, The Merry Widow(er). These days people are doing almost anything to re-capture their youth. Sales of the little blue pill are unbelievable. Prescriptions and over the counter sales of testosterone are going gangbusters. People spend tens of thousands on powders, potions, and plastic surgery. What says power and vitality like having a gorgeous ex-lover show up to throw themselves on your casket? Granted, you as the deceased won’t be able to take advantage of the more temporal benefits, but as with Rent A Morner you have to think about how you will look to those who follow in your footsteps. If you divorced your spouse there’s also the joy you get when you think about the look on their face when they meet your younger, more attractive loved one.

As with all of our programs, Fisher Brothers promises complete secrecy. All mourners and widow(er)s will be provided with enough knowledge about the dearly departed to fool family members and lifelong friends. Where needed they will also have plausible stories as to where they’ve been for the last year to eighteen months. We also guarantee that our Mourners and Merry Widow(er)s are cheaper than having spent your predeceased days striving to have actual people you know like you enough to come to your funeral.

So when you think about your final goodbye, think outside the casket. Remember that here at Fisher Brothers we know that your reputation will outlive your embalmed remains if you spend your money wisely.

*Actual author’s name changed due to contractual obligations.

Sticky Business

This story was inspired by a photo taken from a collection of stock photos. Click here to see them.

enhanced-2407-1399922427-9 Jeff groaned as yet another termination request flashed up on his computer. He hated being the one responsible for closing down accounts and these days it was even worse given the state of the economy. When he saw the name and date it was even worse. It was his friend Robert Newman and the term date was effective tomorrow. That was Robert’s birthday. He struggled all say with whether or not to tell his friend. Stickeez-R-Us had a very strict policy about such things. It could cost him his own job, but he and Robert had been friends a long time. Maybe it would be better coming from him rather than an impersonal walk to his boss’s office.

From: JHeight@stickeezrus.com
RE: Beer Tonight?

Rob. Thought you might like to grab a beer after work at The Town Pump. Let me know.

From: RNewman@stickeezrus.com
RE: Beer Tonight?

Absotively. See you there.

Jeff smiled. The scientist had always been ready for a good time. He had a great attitude and his penchant for practical jokes was well known throughout the company. Hopefully that would carry him through the next day.

He walked through the door of the local watering hole and saw Rob sitting there. The man was still wearing his bright yellow Stickeez lab coat. The sleeves were rolled up showing the wide, thick band of leather that held his steampunk watch. Reddish gray hair stick out in every direction. He had a mug of beer in front of him already two thirds gone.

“Hey man!” Jeff hoped that his tone was chipper.

Rob turned on his stool and smiled. Big blue eyes made bigger by their thick glasses. “Hey dude! Thanks for inviting me. I’ve been working hard the last couple of weeks and haven’t had much down time.”

Jeff looked around and spotted a booth off to the back. He looked at his friend. “I figured you could use an early birthday present and I’ve got something I want to bend your ear about. Mind if we sit back there?” He pointed at the booth.

Rob shook his head. “Not at all.” He gestured to the bartender and pointed to his beer. “I’ll take another one of these for my friend.” He looked back at Jeff. “Go have a seat. I’ll bring your beer.”

Jeff walked back to the booth, trying to keep his head from hanging. This was the right thing to do. He took a seat and Rob wasn’t far behind him. He took the frosty mug and downed a third of it in long swallows.

“Thirsty?” Rob smiled.

“Hard day at work. Look, I don’t want to put this off any longer than I have to. I saw an email today and I know I’m not supposed to say anything, but you’re going to get your pink slip tomorrow.” The words came out in a rush and he looked up when he was finished.

Rob’s face hadn’t changed. He still had a smile on it.

“Didn’t you hear me? You’re gonna lose your job.”

Rob nodded. “I know. I mean I didn’t know it was coming tomorrow, but I knew it was coming. Hey, working R&D for a company that makes variations on sticky notes isn’t exactly a guaranteed gig. I’ve had a good run. Thank for thinking of me.”

Jeff looked from his friend to his beer and back again. “You still look… Happy? You’ve got something percolating in the back of your mind.”

Rob shrugged. “The company has had me working on a few things that were ultra hush hush. I’ve been stressing out about it and decided that I’d tinker with something on my own. I had a breakthrough and let’s just say that the second I don’t log on to my PC at my usual time that little breakthrough will hit the production line ahead of schedule.”

That made Jeff a little uneasy. “Revenge isn’t a good idea.”

“I wouldn’t call it revenge.” Rob sipped at his beer. “It’s an idea that they’ll love eventually. They just won’t much like how it comes out. Don’t worry, when’s the last time you saw me do anything malicious? I’m not out to hurt anyone, least of all the company that’s been so good to so many people lately.” There was a less than gentle sarcasm in his tone.

Jeff thought about that. If this “surprise” wouldn’t hurt anyone except the company then who was he to tattle. If it did go badly they’d know to pin it on Rob and what did Jeff know, really? Rob could be playing one of his jokes on his friend. “Well I’m glad you’re taking it so well.”

“No guarantees in life, friend.”
He raised his glass and they clinked them together. “When you get your own pink slip, look me up. By then I may have some things you can help me with. I’ll need a computer geek one of these days.”


Jeff enjoyed the rest of their evening and didn’t think too much more about it. Breaking the news had gone better than he could have hoped and he didn’t see how anyone could get hurt.”

Days went past and in the drudgery of work and excitement of family life he had actually forgotten about the whole thing. His family was sitting around the table two weeks later when he heard the name of his company from the television in the other room. He excused himself and went to see what it was all about.

“-recall on all of their products manufactured in the previous week.” The camera pulled back from the pretty anchor and showed a young woman with a beatific smile on her face, what he could see of her face under a layer of sticky notes. “It seems a manufacturing error has led to some unintended effects. Stickeez-R-Us has said that their adhesive, when applied directly to the skin, can cause minor changes in mood. The effect is mostly positive and even the young woman pictured showed no ill effects.”

Jeff chuckled and reminded himself to send Rob a reminder about that job offer.

Fiction – One Night At The Last Call

This is a bit of short fiction I wrote for a contest on Wattpad.

Iowa is a place, it turns out. Or at least it was before the bombs fell from the sky during the Last Great War (a war that was neither the last, nor particularly great, and may not have in fact been a war per se). I could see where it used to be from my window high above the Big Blue Marble. Well, to be honest, it’s the place scholars think it was. Large chunks of the North American continent no longer exist. I closed the history book (not a book and I called the quality of history in question) and looked back out at the expanse below. “People never learn from their mistakes.”

“Pardon?” Annabelle asked the question from her station behind the bar. She looked like a lovely girl, from the waist up. From there down, she was a mass of wheels, gears, and circuitry.

I looked at the AI bartender. “Just pontificating on the history of mankind, such as it is. Unlike ‘bots and ‘droids, we stink at learning from what has come before. That’s the reason why this place needs a bouncer.” As the self-described bouncer, or as we were known on most Alliance space stations Sentient Attitude Readjustment Officers, it was my job to make sure no one caused a ruckus in The Last Call. It was the last bar in orbit around my planet of origin. As such it was really the last bar “on” Earth, so long as you allowed the word “on” to include near Earth orbit. It inter-galactic terms it was close enough for horseshoes and hyperbombs.

She smiled. “Well we won’t need you much longer.”

“True enough. What’s the countdown til station implosion?” In spite of Saint Kane’s Fourth Rule, one of the many rules that scrolled around the bar’s walls, there was such a thing as a last call in this ironically named bar.

She displayed the timer across her voluptuous, bare breasts. “Ten minutes, thirty-five seconds, and some change. You’d best be on your way soon, Jonesy”

I sighed. She was right. There wasn’t much left for me to do. Only one sentient still drank, a Conjoined Marriage Unit only counted as one person for tax and IQ purposes, and they weren’t even arguing with each other.

“I may stay here.”

“Why on Earth would you do that Jonesy?” Annabelle cocked her pretty little head. I could almost hear the gears work from where I stood.

“I’m not sure there’s much to do for an old man like me.” I scratched at my graying beard. “Did you know I’ll be two hundred and four next month?”
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