Large print editions

You know what I’m talking about, right? Books published with slighter-larger-than-normal text, to benefit the aged or otherwise sight-impaired members of the populace?

This I am cool with. It troubles me in no significant way.

But -- I have a little bit of trouble when one publishes romance novels in large print editions. Think about it -- do we really need the septuagenarians of the world reading -- and actually getting sexually aroused by -- romance novels? The thought is, quite frankly, sickening. Imagine all of the attendant squelching sounds, and then wonder in horror which particular body part is producing the fluids necessary for the squelching.

There are just some things that shouldn’t be done. This is one of them. I suppose another would be publishing a book called "How to take over the world" in German.

Zing! Ethnic humour!

Jokes about Jesus Christ's penis

Hi, all.

One my minders (yes, I have them) has brought something very distressing to my attention. Apparently somebody has written a piece about Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene. I’ve tried to block most of the details from my mind but, from what I can gather, there’s some friction between the Royal Couple... and, at one point, Mary says "Oh, God", and Jesus says, "Yes?"

That, ladies and gentlemen, is stupid. To demonstrate how stupid it is, let me show you this piece I wrote aeons ago. It is presented in its entirety, preserved in the ether, so that my sinfulness may now and forever be acknowledged by the cosmos.

JESUS CHRIST AND MARY MAGDALENE in MARITAL PROBLEMS

[interior: bedroom. Mary Magdalene, wearing a sheer nightgown, is reclining on the bed, whilst Jesus Christ, Son of Man, is standing, naked except for a pair of modest boxer shorts, in front of the dressing table. He is admiring his bare chest in the mirror. Mary appears upset.]

JESUS: Do you know what, Mary? I’ve got the most amazing cock in the whole world. Seriously, it’s perfect. Heavenly, you could even say. It’s long, it’s thick, it’s elegantly proportioned. It’s a gift from God.

MARY: I’m sick of hearing about your penis, Jesus. Really.

JESUS: Cock, Mary. The word is cock. And, besides, how could anybody be sick of my cock? It’s long, it’s thick...

MARY: I know, I know, believe me, I know. Our waiter tonight also knew, by the time we got to the second course.

JESUS: I thought he’d want to know.

MARY: And did he?

JESUS: [quietly] It’s hard to say.

MARY: He didn’t, trust me.

JESUS: He’s just jealous that his cock isn’t as perfect as mine.

MARY: You know that for a fact, do you? He confided in you during some secret, special moment?

JESUS: Something like that, yes... Look, are we going to fuck or not? The Heavenly Father has only given me so much time on this earth, and I want to stick my cock in you as many times as possible. I’ve got the Jews coming at me from one side, and the Romans from the other. My cock isn’t getting the work-out it needs.

MARY: No, Jesus, I don’t think so...

JESUS: What? Why? You don’t want to fuck?

MARY: Now, listen, Jesus. I don't want you to take this the wrong way... but you’re not as good in bed as you seem to think you are.

JESUS: Impossible. I don’t think I’m good, I know I’m good.

MARY: Do you?

JESUS: I haven’t had any complaints.

MARY: I think you have. I think you’re just too stuck up to listen to them.

JESUS: Christ, you’re being serious, aren’t you? Fine, I’m listening. Talk to me.

MARY: Well, you pe-- your cock, I mean... it’s not that wonderful, you know.

JESUS: Whoa, hold up. I’m willing to listen, but this is unreasonable. I know my cock is perfect. It’s long, it’s thick...

MARY: How do you know? Have you compared it to other men’s?

JESUS: No, of course not. I’m not a poof. I hate those fucking poofters.

MARY: I’m not either, but I’ve seen a few cocks in my time. And, let me tell you, Jesus, yours doesn’t make the big leagues.

JESUS: Really? Truthfully? Is it not long enough? Not thick enough?

MARY: Neither, actually. It’s not even that pleasing visually.

JESUS: How can it not be? It goes up, it goes down. It’s a cock. It’s not a particularly complicated piece of machinery.

MARY: I know. That being said, I’ve seen better.

JESUS: Shit. Well, anything else?

MARY: Well, um... yes, actually. You also don’t know how to use it that well.

JESUS: [laughing] I know what you’re talking about. My cock is such awhirling dervish that you experience sensory overload and black out. That’s it, huh? You’ve just been overwhelmed by my technique.

MARY: No, that’s not it, Jesus. You plain don’t know what you’re doing. In and out, in and out, three times if you’re lucky, and that’s that.

JESUS: How many times do you want? Six? Or possibly seven? Maybe eight?

MARY: It’s going to take a lot more than that to satisfy a woman, Jesus. I’ms urprised you haven’t learned that yet.

JESUS: You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re a whore. That’s why it takes so much to satisfy you. Wear and tear, that sort of thing.

MARY: Jesus, you watch your mouth! I won’t let you anywhere near me again if you talk like that. Fucking Christ!

JESUS: I’ll caution you to not take the Lord’s name in vain, Mary. It offends me.

MARY: I’ll take the Lord any way I fucking well want. I’ve taken him in the ass before, what does anything else matter?

JESUS: Are you mocking me? You didn’t like it when I stuck it there, either?

MARY: No, Jesus, I didn’t. Not pleasant.

JESUS: [sheepishly] Are you sure it’s not because you’re a hooker? I can try with some other women, if we need proof. I am the son of God, you know...

MARY: I don’t give a fuck who you are. If you can’t make me come then it doesn’t mean shit to me.

JESUS: This is too much for me. Look, are we going to fuck tonight or not?I’m starting to feel a little antsy.

MARY: I--I don’t think so, Jesus.

JESUS: Oh, come on! I’ve got to get a load off! This is heavenly jizz I’ve got building up in my balls. I need to get rid of it.

MARY: There’s more than one way of doing that, you know. I don’t necessarily need to be in the room.

JESUS: [looking over to open bathroom door] That’s not going to happen. You know that’s not what my Heavenly Father meant when he was talking about the Second Coming.

MARY: Nevertheless, it might be your only option tonight...

JESUS: Fuck, Mary.

A question

Is it wrong to love Geoff Jansz as much as I do?

Lines on the road

In this amazing technological age, where it possible to watch Big Brother on our mobile phones and, well, do lots of other things, why is it that we cannot paint lines on the road with any degree of certainty? To clarify, when councils and government decide to erase old lines and paint new ones -- why is it that the older lines are just as visible as the new ones? And then, sometimes when the sunlight hits the bitumen in a special way, the old lines become even more prominent, to the extent that the newer lines are effectively invisible.

How many accidents has this caused?

Is the greatest single conspiracy of our times? Did Elvis and JFK rendezvous with a secret alien society to keep the bloodline of Jesus Christ a secret (and fake the moon landing), just so they could wipe out conscientious drivers -- like myself -- who can’t see the frigging lines on the road?

Just a thought.

Record watch

Lest one get tired of the jokes about penises and tortoises (and the jokes about penises and tortoises, more of which later), I’ve decided to introduce a new feature -- Record Watch. In this feature, I’m going to list all of my recent album purchases -- mostly vinyl, but the occasional CD may pop up now and again. If I get the inclination, I may even get around to reviewing them. We’ll see. That might be too much work.

Purchases for Saturday, 20 May 2006

The Alan Parsons Project: Eye In The Sky (1982)

Julian Lennon: Valotte (1984)

Paul McCartney and Wings: Red Rose Speedway (1973)

Roxette: Look Sharp! (1988)

Cat Stevens: Catch Bull At Four (1972)

Talking Heads: Talking Heads: 77 (1977)

Traffic: The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys (1971)

PS. This is of interest to me and nobody else. Do you think I care? I do not.

Have you seen this man?

Wanted

Have you seen this man? If so, you may be able to help police with their enquiries. Darryn King (21) is wanted for gross negligence and malfeasance involving a tortoise. The alleged act took place on multiple occasions over the past two years, leaving the tortoise emotionally crippled, and more than a little bit sore around his naughty bits.

The tortoise, who wishes to remain unnamed, alleges that Darryn King "bought me dinner, told me he loved me, and promised that he'd never leave". Indeed, for the first couple of weeks, things were rosy. But then it all turned nasty.

"He brought all these horrible contraptions home. I tried escaping into my shell, but he had a disgusting tool to get me out of there too. My own private sanctuary -- violated. His horribleness knew no bounds. He wanted to do it from behind, in a group, even interracial. He wanted me to get naked with a turtle, for God's sake."

If you have any information on the whereabouts of this filthy mistake of a human, please contact the police immediately. You can also contact Spleen Central, and we'll be sure to pass the information on. After having a good laugh about it, of course.

Great alternate moments in history

No. 309: the Gettysburg address in the electronic age

"Four underscores and seven carriage returns ago..."

Great compound words of the twentieth century

No. 594
Titty-fuck.

No. 299
Cum-rag.

No. 606
Ass-bang.

In Bed with John and Cindy

A television programme... with a difference! Have you ever thought of breakfast morning television as staid, boring, uninteresting? If you did, the authors wholeheartedly agree with you, and concede that nothing we can do is going to improve that.

We can, however, offer an interesting gimmick, whereby your hosts — John and Cindy — present interviews and infomercial segments in bed, wearing their pyjamas.

JOHN: Thank you for the warm words of welcome, Kieren. Tonight on the programme, we have Father Peter Pecker, an ultra-conservative Catholic priest.

FATHER PETER: Hello, John. Thank you for having me on the programme.

CINDY: Good evening, Father Peter. Thank you for visting us. We’re only just getting established, and we’re having a hard time securing a decent guest roster. There’s a certain type of guest we’re after, and we’re having a singularly bad time booking them... Brad Pitt, Colin Farrell, Orlando Bloom...

FATHER PETER: Tom Cruise, I’d imagine...

CINDY: Oh, God, no. He volunteered, but we had to say no. There’s something not right in that man’s head.

JOHN: I think it’s got something to do with religion, hasn’t it? That junk he believes has poisoned his mind.

FATHER PETER: That’s an interesting thing to say, John. It’s funny you should mention that.

JOHN: I think so, too. That’s pretty much what you’re involved in, right?

FATHER PETER: Religion? Well, yes, that’s true. Although, I must say that I must make a distinction between Scientology and Christianity. There’s a difference there.

JOHN: Really? What’s that?

FATHER PETER: Well, one doctrine preaches that our loving God gave his only son to us, and that he was crucified and rose from the dead…

JOHN: [laughing] Well, yes, that is quite stupid, isn’t it?

FATHER PETER: And then there’s Scientology. It has a system of eight Operating Thetan levels, whereby information is only divulged to a select few. And, even when it is, it tends to be fantastic and highly unbelievable.

JOHN: I’m sorry, I can’t see the difference.

FATHER PETER: You don’t believe that the Lord created the universe, and everything within it?

JOHN: Not particularly, no. I think the scientists are doing quite well in that department, without the Lord’s help. Hell, they’re doing it without government funding. That is dedication.

FATHER PETER: I don’t know what to say to that.

CINDY: All right, John. Perhaps we should move on. Do you have another question?

JOHN: I think I might… buried here somewhere… Ah, yes, here we go. Father Peter — are you aware that both your first and last names are synonyms for the male penis?

FATHER PETER: They are? I’ve never heard the words in that usage.

JOHN: Oh, come on… I find that hard to believe. You’ve never seen a particularly attractive young schoolboy and wanted to stick your peter in him somewhere?

FATHER PETER: Please! What are you saying?

JOHN: What about your pecker? Have you ever innocently bumped into young children and felt it, say, come to attention?

FATHER: Oh, Mother Mary and Joseph! These things you’re saying.

CINDY: John! Father Penis has a point. Leave the poor man alone.

Say hello to your new hosts!

Is it uncommon for a blog two have two hosts? Two fictitious hosts?

Even if it is, and even if it isn’t, I’m introducing them -- say hello to John and Cindy!

Insanely obsessive readers may remember John and Cindy from the distant past, where they navigated various journals and written escapades, bringing their wit, pathos, and comforting journalistic integrity to any and all proceedings.

Such stipulations have not been written into their contract this time, but, if nothing else, they should provide welcome relief from the unending tide of dick jokes. Hello, John and Cindy. We welcome you!

JOHN: Thank you kindly. It’s nice to be out of storage and moving about again.
CINDY: Watch where you put those mothballs, John.

Ha ha, banter at its finest. Tune in shortly, when John and Cindy will have more timely tidbits to entertain the masses.*

* Not necessarily.

Things about history I'll bet you didn't know...

Interesting fact No. 2
Ariel Sharon, ex-Prime Minister of Israel, was named after Ariel, The Little Mermaid. I'd post a picture for comparison, but Disney and their barrage of copyright lawyers scare me.

Adjunct fact
Isn't it interesting that one of the scariest men in international politics (and certainly one of the fattest) has two girly names? Ariel and Sharon? In keeping with the pattern, I wouldn't be surprised if his middle name was "Sheila".

Adjunct fact the second
I just realised that the hypothesised middle name "Sheila" would provide ol' Ariel with the initials A.S.S. That's funny in its own way.

Things about history I'll bet you didn't know...

Did you know that the "C. S." in "C. S. Lewis" actually stands for "cock-sucker"?

Toilet graffiti

Spotted in the men's room on campus:

Gay's should be shot on site! Dirty fuck's.

The two apostrophes were circled, as was the word "site". Next to the annotations was the comment, "Scratch a straight. Find an illiterate."

A few thoughts:

(1) The word "site" isn't necessarily wrong. The poster could be referring to a designated location where gays are shot. The opposite, of course, being off-site.

(2) That being said, this doesn't excuse the apostrophes.

Underneath these lines was the line, "Homosexuals are soooo gay." This was, I thought, exceedingly redundant. Lest I be accused of lacking a sense of irony, I would like to add that the word "soooo" is, in itself, kinda gay.

Pillars of engineering industry

How to make an iPod appeal to a neo-Luddite:
Put a hand-crank motor on it.

How to make yo' mama appeal to a hand-crank motor fetishist:
Put a hand-crank motor on her.

How to make yo' mama appeal to me:
You don't need to do anything. She's absolutely perfect. Hi, Gladys!*

* This joke doesn't exactly work if yo' mama's name isn't Gladys. Indeed, some might argue, it doesn't work even if yo' mama's name is Gladys.

New to this site!

Single-word reviews of the great works of Western literature*
(* said single words being derived from the anatomical features of insects.)

Milton's Paradise Lost:
"prothorax"

Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing:
"coxa"

Dickens's Barnaby Rudge:
"subesophageal ganglion" (well, that's two words)

Anything by Peter Carey:
"shit"

Things you don't want to buy second-hand...

1. Lawnmowers.
2. Portable stereo systems.
3. Hands (prosthetic or otherwise, it doesn't really matter).
4. Anal dildos.*

* This entry is not a joke.

Things feminists are good for...

I've been thinking about this for a while, and I decided to come up with a list.

1. (I'm having trouble with this one... let's leave it blank for the moment.)
2. (See above.)
3. (Ditto.)
4. (As per No. 3.)
5. Defending the rights of women, and demanding fair and equitable treatment for all females.*

* This entry is a joke.

Blogging? Is it just for poofs?

Firstly -- can I get into trouble for using the word "poof"? Is it necessarily a bad thing, if used in a humorous and friendly context? I mean, nobody complains about the word "nigger" any more, do they? If the coloured folk are prepared to let bygones be bygones, then what's to say that the homosexuals and the normal people can't exist in peace?

Now that we've cleared away any issues pertaining to libel (or, worse, hate-mongering), I'd like to say... welcome to my blog. I understand that I've potentially only got one person reading this (and that's me, and I don't know who often I'll be able to stop by), but we've all got to do something, haven't we?

My foray into Internet blogging was prompted by a friend of mine. Why? No reason, particularly. But if he can do it, surely I can do it too, right? There's no monopoly on jokes relating to penises and monkeys, is there? I can understand if he's got some sort of trademark on jokes simultaneously about penises and monkeys, but I still believe there's a lot of wiggle room there. Which is, incidentally, exactly what the monkey said when I stuck a penis up his... well, you get the idea.