Alleviate Your Misery Hour
Wallow in Existential Despair Hour
Forced Merriment with Colleagues Hour
Waste of Time Hour
I Can Only Have One Drink, and It Takes Three to Make Me “Happy” Hour
Dammit, I Am Super Happy Hour
Half Priced Awful Drinks Hour
Calculating How Pissed Off People Will Be at Me Hour (more…)
A zombie walks into the school lunchroom. In 2:06 minutes the roaches and maggots have consumed 98.4% of the decayed flesh; the rest is removed by a combination of ants and a mop.
An alien spacecraft arrives. A robot scoops a soil sample, performs a spectroscopic analysis, and just after sending a report back is smashed by drunks on their way home from a sports bar in Philadelphia on a Friday night. The soil analysis takes 300,210 years to reach the planet of origin. By that point the original civilization is dead and the new inhabitants think the message is a threat and plan an attack. When they arrive 600,420 years after the original landing, the sports bar is closed.
Doctor Who Meets George Washington
This cannot happen. (more…)
Dear U.S. Department of Agriculture,
I write to you with growing concern. My only cow may no longer qualify as organic. I’m unsure of the parameters with which you measure a cow’s organicity. Below, please find several events that I worry may have sacrificed my cow’s purity:
My cow ate a Hot Wheel. I do not know how my cow came to be in possession of a Hot Wheel, only that said Hot Wheel now resides in one of his four stomachs. I am unsure of the make and model of the car, but I could obtain this information if it is deemed pertinent. (more…)
Do you like books, Stephen? What kinds of books? We never talk about ideas, do we? I’ll get you a set of six different literature inspired colognes, in a gift box that looks like an old book. Maybe that will make you smile.
Sometimes I feel as if you’d have an easier time functioning without cold brew coffee for one day than functioning without me for the rest of your earthly life. Perhaps if gave you with home brewing carafe, your would think of me while pouring it, eyes focused on some distant point out the window, into the “World’s Best Husband” mug I gave you when we first moved in
Beard oil? (more…)