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December 14, 2006
12.14.06
There's a fat man in your bathtub.
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Tanya: Untitled
“Honey?”
“Hmmmm?”
“Could you come here for a sec?”
“Sure, hon. What’s the probl…. Who’s that?”
“I’m not sure. It looks like… Michael Moore.”
“It does. Is he wedged in there?”
“Apparently.”
“I wonder what he’s doing in our bathtub.”
“Mmm. Trying to get out, mostly.”
“Should I get the WD40?”
“Nah.”
“The hacksaw?”
“Not yet.”
“Then what do we do with him?”
“Hmmmm...”
“…”
“You go fix him a nice big salad. And order a pizza for us. I’ll drag the TV in here. Let’s see what Bill O’Reilly’s up to.”
“I hear Ann Coulter’s his guest today.”
“Mmmff!”
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Jim: Snicker Doodles
The woman looked up from her packing. “I’m leaving, Chris,” she told her husband.
“Why?”
“You don’t know what it’s like – waking up everyday knowing there’s a fat guy in my bathtub. You’ve put on so much weight that I don’t recognize you anymore!”
“But it’s part of the job!”
She grabbed her bag. “Bullshit. It’s because you're too lazy to work out. I won’t be around when you have a massive heart attack.”
“Please reconsider,” he begged.
“I’ve made up my mind,” she declared. “From now on, you and those elves will have to get your cookies someplace else.”
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David: Lingo
The words crackled out of the radio’s speaker. “I say again, there is a fat man in your bathtub.”
“Sarge?”
“Stow it, Kowalski, and get a visual on that ridge.” The private crept up to the edge of the foxhole and peered out through binoculars.
“Tanks, Sarge! I make it three R-91’s.”
“Damn it!” growled the sergeant. He lifted up the handset to his ear. “The banjo is angry at midnight.”
The voice on the radio said, “Confirm?”
“Midnight, damn it! My dog has fleas! The weather is nice in Barbados this time of year!”
“Frosted cherry poptart, over.”
BOOM!
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Jeff R.:Eureka!
Science is a lie.
History shows it. All major discoveries simply leap straight into the mind of the discoverers, while they're doing something that's, at best, tangentally related to the idea who's time had come. Newton gets hit by an apple and discovers universal gravitation. Archimedes draws too much water for his bath and finds the formula for bouyancy. A couple of biochemists look at a spiral staircase and unravel DNA.
All of that business with carefully tested hypotheses and experimental rigor is pure bunkum, a line to get government grants. When it's steam-engine time, someone will build steam engines.
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Michele: Lonely Jew on Christmas
“You’ve got to leave. Now.”
“Aww hell. I’m havinshommmnfnnhhnm.” His slurred words trailed off.His stomach protruded out of the water like a lost beach ball.
“They’re waiting for you.”
“Fuckem. Fuckemfuckemfuckem.”
“Get out. The reindeer are getting restless.”Kris stood up clumsily and went back down again, his head slamming the faucet. Blood trickled down his forehead, coloring the bathwater.
Eve hit the emergency button on her phone.
“He’s drunk and unconscious. We need a replacement. Again.”
Two minutes later, Jesus appeared in the bathroom, scowling.
“God damn it. Why do I always have to work on my birthday?”
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Stacy: So Detect
“In my bathtub?”
“Yes, ma’am, in your bathtub. Dead.”
“My bathtub is dead? How can a bathtub be dead?”
“Not your bathtub, ma’am. The fat man is dead.”
“Oh, well that happens, doesn’t it.”
“Usually in your bathtub?”
“Usually in my bathtub what?”
“Do fat men usually expire in your bathtub?”
“Expire? They have expiration dates? How odd.”
“No, ma’am, die. Expire also means ‘to die.’”
“Someone was dyeing their clothes in my bathtub? Oh, my beautiful porcelain, that color will never come out!”
“Ma’am, why is there a dead fat man in your bathtub?”
“Well, really. You’re the detective!”
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From the Comments: Mr. Parx
The great bald Head peeked out over the bubbles. Two matching pink orbs, the knees, the reconnaissance soldiers, advanced through the bubbly jungle, clearing the path for General Head, bobbing up and down. The opposing toe-army, outnumbering them five-to-one, stood guard at the edge of the jungle, protecting the life-giving water. The recon soldiers could get no closer.
The air was moist, thick. The humidity was nearly unbearable, but these men of valor would not buckle. Somehow, they must find a shortcut, a way through this dense, fragrant foliage…
Then suddenly, through the door, “Pops! You almost done in there?”
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