Randomery

I just had an odd thought . . . just who do you tell if your pee smells like milk? I mean, is it something you should be worried about? Well, milk is good, good, but why does your pee smell like milk when you haven’t drunk it in several days? Is it some kind of vociferous men’s breast cancer that happens to attack the milk glands? Do men have milk glands? Why do men not have gynecologists? I know I sure as hell don’t EVER want to see a urologist. It always means only one thing . . . fuckin’ widdit. And there is a part of me I do NOT want fucked wit.

Acch, so many questions. So much time!

You know who’s funny? The least funny people in the world. The gangbangers, the mafia. Sure, they kill, maim and steal, but god loves ‘em. YOU love ‘em. They’re so dumb . . . I’m sure the jokes abound, but see, they HAVE to be dumb because otherwise they’d be lawyers. Oh, no wait . . . bad metaphor.

I mean, do you know what a typical mafioso conversation goes like?

I am just not kidding:

“Didja talk to him?”
“Sure, like I toldja, I talked to him. He said it’s off.”
“He said it’s off?”
“Yeah, like off. As in ‘off.’”
“You mean no deal?”
“No deal. Whadda you, harda hearing?”

This to me is divine comedy.

Or in other circles:

“Whatchou fuckin’wit, man, how come you got yo’ fingers in yo pockets like, seven-eeleven?”
“Dude, go be humpin’ Charlie and jive yo’ black ass outta ma face.”

Or:

“Fait-tu quoi, quoi? Que fait-tu?”
“Va te faire.”
“Oh OUEEEH? Va me faire quoi?”

Ah, the banality of humanity, the spokes that make the wheels turn around. They don’t always have to be straight, do they?

Ahh, for the old days, when two atoms went into a bar and one atom said “Huh? I think I lost my electron somewhere!” and the other atom said “Are you sure?”

And the first atom said, “Yes, I’m positive!”

In our world it would be “Fuhgeddaboudit”.