A Truly Scary Halloween

It was the start of Beggar’s Night, and the door bell rang.

Old Mr. Johnson opened the door to see a young boy in a suit and tie.

Before he knew it, the young boy reached into Mr. Johnson’s candy bowl and took almost half of the candy.

“What’s the meaning of this?” cried the old man.

“Can’t you tell from my costume?” said the young boy as he began to walk away without a hint of shame. “I’m an IRS agent!”

A Truly Scary Halloween
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Sunday, October 30, 2016

Do my side posts do anything for you?

Did you ever stop to think that I actually write these side posts? That’s right: I sit down and try to come up with my own original material to amuse and entertain in this sidebar. Even the little images in the corner are either photos I took, or original artwork that I created in a bitmap editor.

At first I was merely trying to be informative with regard to this website in these little asides, but as time went on I just started writing shit for the sake of entertainment. Kind of like that cheeky columnist in the “Life” section of your local newspaper.

I’ve noticed that I can sit down and read the stuff I write, not just here, but in forums, reviews, and e-mails. Occasionally I’ve actually found myself enjoying it, not because of how narcissistic I am, but because I thought the sentences and paragraphs were easy to consume. On more than a few occasions, I actually forgot I was the author of the text I was reading while I was reading it, and just enjoyed the way it “flowed”.

So does any of my original writing do anything for you? Do you even bother to read this text? I never get any feedback on it, and maybe that’s for the best, but no… I’d like to know. Do my stories entertain or bore you?

Let me know what you think in the comments. We’ve got new obviously stolen jokes lined up for Monday through Friday, so don’t forget to stop back and see them.

Pax,

f2x

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Sunday, October 30, 2016
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Cosmetic Conversation

Karen and Mabel were having lunch together, and discussing their plans for cosmetic procedures.

Karen said, “I need to be honest with you, I’m getting getting lip injections.”

Mabel responded, “Oh really? I’m thinking of having my asshole bleached.”

Just then Karen burst out in laughter, “I just can’t picture your husband as a blonde!”

Cosmetic Conversation
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Prophylactic Packing

A business man packing for a trip glances in his briefcase.

“Honey?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Honey,” he says, in mild exasperation, “why do you persist in putting a condom in my briefcase every time I go on a trip? You know I only have eyes for you. I’d never be unfaithful.”

“Oh, I know, darling, and I trust you,” she replies sweetly, “It’s just that, well you know, with all those terrible diseases out there, it would make me feel better to know that if anything did happen, you’d be protected. So please, darling, take it with you, won’t you? For my sake?”

“Oh, alright, if you put it that way,” he relented, “I’ll do it for you. But for Pete’s sake, give me more than one!”

Prophylactic Packing
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Ringing Rhythm

One day, Nancy received some terrible news. Her beloved grandfather had just passed away, so she went straight to her grandparents’ house to visit her 92-year-old grandmother and offer her some comfort.

When she asked how her grandfather died, her grandmother replied, “It was a heart attack while we were making love on Saturday morning.”

Nancy felt that two people nearing 100 years of age probably shouldn’t be indulging in such dangerous passions, and said so to her grandmother.

“But you don’t understand, my dear, ” replied her gran. “Many years ago, fully realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm. Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous. Simply in on the ‘Ding’ and out on the ‘Dong’. ”

She paused, wiped away a tear and then continued, “And if that damned ice cream truck hadn’t come along, he’d still be alive today!”

Ringing Rhythm
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