Cock Soccer

In the photo above you can see Colonel Crispy Strips to the left and on the right is my good pal Jonathan Tender Roast. These two soccer cocks have shown exceptional skills on and off the field which will hopefully lead them to the World Cup championship of cock soccer versus the Guatemalan team who have had the best cocks in the world for the past 4 years in a row. I suppose you may be wondering how I happened upon such skilled cocks. Well, it is actually a somewhat interesting story that begins in Amish country.

I was rolling around rural central Ohio taking some photographs and looking for something to eat when I came across a sign that advertised delicious and highly skilled cocks for sale. I decided to stop and see what this was all about. When I got out of my car I was approached by what I would call the equivalent of a street thug in Amish country. He was wearing a black robe and standing in the shadows of a buggy. I was a bit weary but decided that I absolutely needed to find out more about these cocks.

I ended walking away with the two best cock soccer players in all of Amish country and I have to say I was quite pleased with myself. The man had told me about the rigorous and extensive training that these particular cocks must go through. First they began with a steady diet of cock and only cock so that they have the essential blood thirst needed to play the game. After this phase, the cocks are sent to play with the best Amish soccer cocks until they have mastered the necessary skills to compete on a worldwide level. Lastly, they are sent to the slaughterhouse where they witness the atrocities that occur there and instill just the right amount of hate into the cocks. At this point, they are certified to be the best cock soccers in the world. It really is too bad that I got bored with the whole cock soccer thing and ended up eating those cocks. The sign was right though because those were definitely the best two cocks that I have ever had in my life.

My new sunglasshes...

Aloha folksh! It's Claudius Von Wainright the Third, Esquire here. As you can see, I'm lookshing extra stylishh with my rose colored "hip" sunglasshes, right? The mangy street vendor that shold them to me shwears they are authentic Prada and that alone was enough for me to pay $500 dollarsh for them.

Along with the glasshes, I received a certificate of authenticity with the following printed on it:

"Hello! Thank you for purchasing the Mercedes Benz of sunglasses! You hold in your hands a piece of history. These Prada beauties were hand selected to come to America in the knapsack of the Premiere of Italy. The plastic frames were created from the oil that flows from the bosom of New Zealand and then hand molded by a blind craftsman who intuitively sculpts each pair. The lenses were created from a NASA glass prototype that was stolen in a heist during the cover of night. Your pieces specifically were made possible because of the lookout boy Luis Zeister, who made the brave sacrifice of checking the voltage of the electrified door in the NASA's inner chamber. Please take the time and send the Zeister family a Thank You Card!!"

So, I'm offsh to the beach to grab some honeys. Take her eashy and if she's eashy, fool around with her;)

Showdown

Thimble of the Ancient Pharoahs

There's a rundown Flea Market just outside of the city limits of a town called Burnt Corn, Alabama. From the outside, it looks like any other dilapidated shopper's fair. Old Valvoline signs with rusted edges swing in the breeze, a board touting the "World's Best Damn Frozen Custard in Alabama" still resides and shouts it's tired message. Most folks call it "Uncle Tuck's Country Flea Market & Car Wash", and for good reason. The car wash is still used by passers by, usually by young folks hiding in the ports to fog up the windows on a Saturday night.

"Uncle Tuck's", however, has been closed for 7 years. But, if you chance by it Friday nights, walk into the blue painted building with a cigar store indian out front. It looks like any other rustic General Stores from times gone by. Once you enter the red-painted doorway, it's as if you've been transported. A blind-mute named Amenhotep works the counter at the most unbelievable store ever imagined.

I had the opportunity to "chance by" while taking photos for the local paper. Once inside, my eyes readjusted and my mind wrapped around what I had discovered. Inside, there were various wonders from throughout the world, at discount prices! There were 4 Arks of the Covenant for $150 each. The meaning of life in a wooden intricately-carved box was a steal at $11,000 (but they wouldn't take American Express). There were magic mirrors, a replica of the Golden Fleece, American Indian runes, and a whole stack of Ben Franklin's personal correspondence.

After taking a moment to read a note to Ben's mistress Mildred, I came across an item I could not pass up. It was a thimble, created from gold of Ancient Egypt. Encrusted with turquoise utilized by Nefertiti herself. I held it in my agile hands. This was something truly special. I asked Amenhotep how much he wanted for this veritable treasure not realizing he was a blind mute. After asking him repeatedly fifteen times and still no response, I threw a $20 bill down in disgust and left the amazing flea market.

Now, my next task, what do I sew using this amazing thimble? A toga made of the fur of a white buffalo? Only time, and imagination will tell...

How Jay Made A Dollar

"How much do you want for this?" said the man with the strange hat.
"I'm gonna need to get $2 for that" replied Jay.
"Whoa! That's a bit much for one of these don't you think?"
"Well you don't know what I had to do to get it."
"I'll give you fifty cents and that is my final offer."
"I just can't do it. How about a dollar fifty."
"No, no, no! Fifty cents is all that it is worth period."
"Okay I'll level with you. I first had to travel 300 miles in a custom built scooter powered by two field mice. After predators ate my power source while I slept, I then had to continue an additional 8.537 miles on foot to reach my destination. Upon arriving the owner insisted that I negotiate with his 3 year old daughter to complete the transaction. She wanted her weight in Skittles but her dad said no Skittles. So I suggested one dollar so I could just get it and leave. The man told me that my money was no good and that I was going to have to do just one thing for him to obtain the item. I'll spare you all the details because the complete story has been known to make full grown men burst into tears. Phase one consisted of a can of finely ground powder made from the hooves of elk, three yamakas filled with Campbell's Chunky soup and a copy of Cracked magazine circa 1974. Phase two involved fourteen meat cleavers, a pair of socks so worn out that just a single thread remained and a bus load of female senior citizen widows looking to get back on the dating scene. Finally, the third and final phase involved a deck of playing cards with all but the 5 of hearts removed, 3 bags of material marked with biohazard stickers, a beating heart fresh from the corpse of the most evil woman on the planet and finally a one pound assorted bag of those little pastel colored mini marshmallows. I'm sure you can fill in the details to understand that I had a very difficult time obtaining this item. You want to buy it for a dollar?"
The man with the strange hat removed his hat and proceeded to contort his face in several different ways that clearly showed the agony of making the difficult decision.
"I'll give you seventy-five cents"
"Can't do it. I need a dollar."
"Okay fine. Here's a dollar."
"Thanks fella."

Parallel Universe

Steve, Dave and Jay were sitting on a degraded park bench. The wood had well-worn butt grooves from years of elderly folk engaging in "heavy petting" during sunsets after they drank their daily fifths of scotch. The metal holding the wood was caked in rust created from a combination of summer downpours, squirrel and elderly urine.

In a moment of extreme clarity, Jay looked up. "Hey guys, in a parallel universe not far off from our own, I created this blog."

Steve took a moment from eating his orange creamsicle and asked, "What? That's cool. Blogs are da shizzle grizzle."

Dave smirked and asked, "What is it called?"

After much trepidation, Jay spoke, "Well, it's called Ramshackle Express Publishing. I can't go into much detail, but I can tell you this. It involves micro-fiction, a team of 26 gnomes transcribing our every hilarious thought by assigned letter each wearing a leotard with the specific letter printed on it, a powder blue Skip-It circa 1983, the letter "H" volume from Encyclopedia Brittanica with the picture of Herbert Hoover given a sharpie mustache, Mos Def's left pinkie wearing a Darkwing Duck Decoder Ring, and a trampoline made from the hairs of the wild goats of Nepal after a strictly cannibalistic diet."

Steve again looked up and mentioned, "That's interesting" and proceeded to give birth to a litter of calico kittens.

Sleeveface!

TRY IT WITH YOUR FRIENDS!