the streak

Mrs. Fish has an epic streak going. She has not thrown up since 1988. That is amazing, isn’t it? 31 years of flu and bad food and car sickness, two pregnancies, and dozens of daycare kids, but she has not puked in that entire time. She said she has been close a few times, but the streak is unbroken. She is the Cal Ripken of vomit.

I’m the opposite. I get queasy if you look at me the wrong way. I throw up a little in my mouth when the cat barfs on the rug. When my child ralphed up their lunch, I was right there, emptying my stomach next to them into the porcelain throne.

I was joking with her that she keeps the streak alive just for me, but she didn’t respond. Then I said she was going to wait until I die, then throw up for the fun of it. She was suddenly dead serious, and said “Don’t say that. Why do you say things like that?”

My sense of humor is much more morbid than hers. I often talk about being hit by a bus, either me or someone else. Once she said “why is it always a bus, and not a taxi?” Good question. I know people are hit by buses and taxis every day, so it really isn’t funny, but that’s how my brain works.

dismembered

Last night, I dreamed I broke my dick.

In my dream I was, umm, pleasuring myself, when suddenly there was a loud “crack”, and most of my erect penis broke off into my hand. I was so startled that I dropped my dismembered member onto the floor, where it quickly shriveled to its normal flaccid size. I was understandably distraught. I looked at the still-aroused stump, expecting massive amounts of blood loss, but there was none. It had simply separated, like a lizard shedding its tail. By this time I had to pee, and I wasn’t sure how well that would work, so I put the wayward head on ice and prepared to go to the emergency room.

When I woke up, I had to check to make sure I was still intact (I was) so I could pee (I did). Then I thought of the song “Detachable Penis”.

I decided to post this here rather than on my Fakebook page. I think that was the right decision.

god of bisquick

Me: … They talk to me, and I answer their call. I am The Creator, and I made them what they are. I am The Creator, but I am also The Destroyer. I gave them their existence, and I will end it as well. They will burn in the ovens of hell, then be devoured with gnashing of teeth! I am all powerful! MWWAAH-HA-HA-HAAAA.

Mrs. Fish: … get over yourself, they’re just biscuits.

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Once upon a time in the south I was in a McDonalds looking for breakfast. They did not have any breakfast sandwiches with bagels, only biscuits. You can’t avoid biscuits in the south.

Once upon a time I was in a Hardees looking for breakfast. There was an older woman in the back making biscuits from scratch, just like they advertise. She reminded me of a school cafeteria lady, kind of matronly with a white apron and a dour expression, and nearly covered in flour.

Once upon a time I was in a Bob Evans looking for breakfast. Their biscuits are baked in a hexagonal shape, and they are very tasty. I asked for a biscuit and a cup of sausage gravy, but the waitress returned with two biscuits and a soup bowl of gravy. I was ecstatic, but I had to take some home.

I’m hungry now.