In case you haven't been following me as religiously as your sister, Quickies are basically random musings/puns/jokes that pop into my head when I sit down to write.
Isn't it ironic how creepy the phrase “Don't be afraid” is? If somebody says that to you, you should probably be afraid. If they whisper it, you should be fucking terrified. And if they whisper it with their hand down their pants wearing a Burger King crown, tell Uncle Willie to come home and take his medication.
I like it when I see a white person and they clutch their purse a little tighter. I like to jog up to them and say, “Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt a fly!” Then, as they smile a little, I say “But I will rob a fat chick”, and grab their purse and run away. I consider it a racism tax.
Hey, NAACP, how about advancing past fifty year old racial terminology?
So I just flew in and boy are my arms tired! (cue polite laughter). Yeah, I was masturbating like the whole plane ride. (Building horror). What? I didn't even tell you I was flying with my grandma. Yeah, I know, that's kind of fucked up. But hey, somebody should benefit from her Parkinson's, eh?
Once, just once, I want them to play a baseball game on paper. I want to see a manager say “fuck it, I've got Knicks tickets, let's just hammer this one out with the ‘ol pen and ink.” You know what? Something tells me that Alex Rodriguez (recent surge notwithstanding) wishes they would play a game on paper once in a while too.
Labels: Geriatric Incest, Racism, Uncle Willie