From
Shepherd Express:
By
Art Kumbalek 1 hour sgo
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh man manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, a
hearty “thank you” I’m sending to my faithful reader Ingrid Mae for the
fabulous holiday card, and, yes, “libate” I shall, ding dong merrily be high.
Hey,
I got something for you’s, slightly used, that might come in handy this holiday
season. It’s a little story my buddy Little Jimmy Iodine recalled to me some
years ago, about a cave that he’d heard at a kid’s YMCA summer camp his parents
made him go to when they thought his interest in being a young man and a Christian
was slacking. It may be behoovable to pass this story around at one holiday
party or another you may find yourself otherwise freeloading at ’cause what
better gift to bring than the gift of mirth, ain’a? You just can’t beat the
price; I don’t care what kind of gift-giver you are, what the fock.
So it’s
springtime and the young bear comes out of his cave. His knees are knockin’ and
he’s a wreck—just skin and bones with deep, dark circles under his eyes.
His mother
says, “Junior! Did you hibernate all winter like you were supposed to?”
And Junior the
bear says, “HIBERNATE??!? Cripes Ma, I thought you said masturbate!” Ba-ding!
Alright
already, yeah, it’s not the best joke in the world so sue me, but I bet you a
buck two-eighty there will be at least one knobshine at the office party who
will swear it’s the funniest focking joke he’s ever heard, and then proceed to
completely screw it up in retelling it to every gal at the party by trying to
jazz up the punch line, as in “HIBERNATE??!?
Cripes Ma, I thought you told me to jack off!”
And
you yourself might even get a good laugh if you stick around the shindig long
enough, because by then after a tubful of hot focking toddies, this
life-of-the-party jackass will really be on a roll and the punch line will have
evolved into near fire-his-ass gibberish: “HIBERVENTILATE??!?
You got to be jerking my beefaroni, Ma. I thought you said you wanted me to
spank my monkey!” Wait, wait. It gets better. So the mother bear says, “What
monkey?” The monkey looks at her and says, “Organ grinder? What do I need an
organ grinder for when I’ve got a right paw?” And the bear says to the monkey,
“So, I guess you don’t come here just for the hunting, do you?” Ba-ding!
Come
to think of it, wild animals engaged in the art of self-administered sexual
satisfaction is not exactly come-all-ye-faithful seasonal material, which means
you’re still short-handed if you expected to get any “gift of laughter” ideas
out of me. So I got another one for you that’s got a little religious flavor to
it, always tasty given the significance of the Yuletide:
So these three
blondes die in a fiery car crash ’cause when they saw a sign that said “Stop,”
they weren’t clear as to what it was they were to stop—what, texting? smoking?
staying out late? god, these signs along the road are so vague. Now they’ve
arrived at the Pearly Gates and St. Peter tells them they can enter if they
answer one simple question. St. Peter asks the first blonde, “What is Easter?”
And she replies, “No problemo. It’s the holiday on a Thursday when I eat some
turkey, then throw up some turkey in the toilet and give thanks.”
“Incorrect,”
says St. Peter and asks the second blonde the same question. “Easter is the
holiday right before New Year’s when we bring a tree into the house so that we
can have presents besides toasting the birth of Jesus.”
St. Peter
shakes his head and says, “Not quite.” He turns to the third blonde and asks,
“What is Easter?” The third blonde smiles, looks St. Peter straight in the eye
and says, “I know what Easter is. Easter is the Christian holiday that
coincides with the Jewish celebration of Passover. Jesus was deceived, made to
wear a crown of thorns and was crucified. He was buried in a nearby cave, which
was then sealed by a boulder.”
St. Peter
smiles and says, “Yes, very good.” And the blonde says, “Wait, I’m not
finished. Every year ever since, the boulder is moved aside so that Jesus can
come out. And if he sees his shadow we’ve got six more weeks of winter, which
like totally blows.” Ba-ding!
I
hope you don’t avoid regaling your fellow holiday revelers with the above story
just because of its religious content. A lot of people feel the religious
aspect of Christmas can be a divisive thing, but screw that. This is the time
of year to wish for peace on Earth and to generally maintain a positive
attitude what the fock, so how ’bout this: If President-elect Orange Circus
Peanut and his new buddy Vlad somehow manage to blow up the world before
Christmas Day, at least we’ll have a mighty short winter and who can complain
about that, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
Read more:
http://shepherdexpress.com/article-28904-frosted-flake.html
Related:
https://theshepstore.kostizi.com/
