Category: Verbal Assassinations

And on behalf of men everywhere — and I do mean everywhere, including the ones in the little mud huts – let me be the first to say thanks and alleluia!

Look, Tammy, as far as your love life goes, normally I couldn’t care less who’s laying your quivering body down by the fire while your lips whisper No, no…no” but your eyes scream, “Yes. Yes. Oh, big daddy, yes!” But when you’re dating Jordan’s sissy-poo, it forces me to spend time with you outside of the hospital, and I just won’t have that. So, hhhere’s the deal: Don’t want to have dinner with you. Don’t want to go bowling with you. And I never, ever again want to walk into my kitchen and hear you say, “Ohh, it’s waffle time! It’s waffle time! Won’t you have some waffles of mine?”

A tip jar. Really? So what am I supposed to do, just duke you my change because you poured hot water through beans? Well, I’ll tell you what, my friend, unless you’re also planning on giving me a complimentary reach-around with my beverage, I’m afraid the answer is yeah…no! Here’s a–here’s a novel idea: Why don’t you go fetch me a very large cup of coffee with so damn many fake sugars in it, that the coffee itself gets cancer.

Hey, Bobbo, now when the dark prince does finally call you home, please promise me that you’ll donate your body to science. And I don’t mean medical science, I mean NASA. Because when those buzz-cuts have all but given up on trying to figure out just exactly what a black hole is, and they get one look at that space where your heart was supposed to be, well by-gum, you know they’re just gonna say, Awwww, shucks! That’s what it is!”

Oh! I’m sorry! Are you talking? Because I’ve decided to keep my finger on the button, so I actually can’t hear anything that’s going on in there. But, for fairness’ sake, I’ve decided to do your end of the conversation. It goes a little something like this: Blah-blah, blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah, cool hip-hop lingo, blah-blah, blah-blah-blah.” Anyway, I’ve come up with a whole new plan about Mr. Iverson. If you wanna take that liver away from him just because you and I are having some kind of personal beef, then you go and tell the man yourself.”

Oh, that’s funny, because Jack here was just wondering why the crazy lady who just spent the last hour chain smoking and talking on her cell phone while her kid ate sand would come over to two complete strangers and give them parenting advice!

First off, let me just say…thank you. For the last couple of months I have been adrift in a sea of puppy dogs, lollipops, and, let’s face it, mediocre metaphors. Luckily, you people were kind enough to piss all over learning a procedure that could determine whether some poor sucker lives or dies. And that reminded me of something that I wanted to remind you of. Because, you see, I am accountable. I am accountable for the continuous, crashing, undeniable amateurism that you people drag into this hospital day in and day out. And believe you me when I tell you that the next time one of you perpetual disappointments doesn’t even have the common decency to try and do better at something you supposedly do? I will go ahead and toss your sorry ass outta here in about ten seconds and then I will forget you forever in the next five.

Newbie! It turns out I, uh, I do have some best man advice. Go easy on the mascara in case you cry during your toast. And if you’re gonna chase after the bouquet with all of the other girls, make sure you kick off your pumps so you don’t snap one of those chicken ankles of yours.

Not so fast, there, Bob. You forgot to affix the warning label to your forehead. You know, the one that reads Exposure to Bob Kelso can be hazardous to your health” thus affording the reader a fighting chance to escape the waste and contamination that is…Bob Kelso.”

Look, I honestly don’t think that going to some dive bar is necessarily appropriate for somebody who just had kidney surgery. Although, don’t get me wrong, the fact that it seems to be pissing you off so much is the true definition of an added perk. Seriously, you can – you can look it up in the dictionary. It’s under P” for “perk”. It’s right next to “pain in the ass” and, curiously enough, your picture is right next to it.”