Kids this year have wild costumes. One of ’em looked just like my landlord. His pals were sheriffs and they took all my stuff, dumped it on the sidewalk. Changed all the locks.
I gave ’em all full-size Snickers for the effort. Think the rest of the candy I’ll need as a makeshift blanket. Cold out.
I don’t check my kids candy. I don’t check anything they eat. Had a guy holding a butterfly net tell me one of ’em ate a whole zoo, including the enclosures and the ticket stands. All the animals, gone down the gullet.
Said he was hoping I’d let him past the door, maybe he could at least scoop back an emu or something from the kid— hence the net— and I said “buddy, that’s between you and the emu.”
oh no, dracula watched all the kung fu movies
he’s lived so long he could watch them all
and he’s kicking down the cobwebs
and he’s chopping at the coffin lid but
it won’t break
like in the movies
but keep trying dracula
you’ve got so much time left to make
your hands into weapons
Had a plumber in today who kept referring to the sink as the Well of Souls and put a ring of candles all along the counter alongside one of those really curvy knives… do they have a name? The curvy ones that wiggle like a… they look like a snake in motion?
Maybe I should have DIY-ed it ’cause they were meant to look at the heater, but so far all they’ve done is summoned three tar-black gremlins from the garbage disposal who are dancing around and cursing my bloodline, which… c’mon.
When life gives you lemons, focus on the lemons. Do not make eye contact with life. Do not try to comprehend how life is able to give you anything. Do not wonder if life has something approaching hands.
The human mind was not meant to come into direct contact with life. Focus on the lemons. Focus on the lemons. Do not look up. Do not look up.
In the same way that “milk and honey” are spiritually pure because they don’t harm the animals that produce them, a vampire’s kiss makes them one of the most moral monsters. In this essay, dictated to me by glowing red eyes at the foot of my bed, I will explore—
In the drawing room, the Colonel, the gardener, the butler, Widow Abscomb, Jenny Tulip, Hubert Gentle and the vicar sat patiently as Madame Whistlepot, amateur detective, paced over the body.
“Before we go any further into discussing who the actual murderer was, I want to make one thing clear. I did not throw up when I saw the body. Any vomit here is not mine. I think dead bodies are cool and they don’t make me puke and that’s why I’m a detective.”
heck yeah I’m into NFTs!
Nominating
Fried Green
Tomatoes for Oscars in the categories of Best Supporting Actress (for Jessica Tandy) and Best Adapted Screenplay
I have to get these jokes out now before climate emergencies force me to beg an armed compound to let me in to where they keep the water and a joke like this would get me exiled for life to the WASTELANDS
Leatherbound armed guard with an animal mask made from scraps of plastic: What’s the password, wastelander?
Me: I don’t know, but I do have all my Mastodon posts inside this Trapper Keeper, there’s some pretty funny— [rifling through papers that are bursting into flame because it’s 130F]— there’s some pretty funny— hold on…
dear hollywood, I would like to see a prequel story for:
> Little China before there was big trouble in it, when Egg Chen was still an egg
> Rambo, before even the first blood was shed
> the land before before before before time
> the formation of stars that would later be host to wars
Al Gendry was your average artisan of occult artifacts.
His whole life was going to hell…
Al: More bills!
Until he met… a hellraiser
Pinhead: I would like you to build me a box that makes people’s lives worse.
Al: Hallelujah!
<Pinhead winces.>
Summer, 2023… THE TORMENT NEXUS.
Once it’s done being crafted, we’ll have such sights to show you!