Doggone It

Posted on October 1, 2019 by sungmokoo

Animal Portrait Canine Cute Little Dog Mammal

Trusting a puppy this cute may be the gateway to a slow descent to hell filled with heroin and shitty friends. Then again, not.

The small dog, named Butter, yipped ceaselessly for twenty long agonizing minutes. If anyone had bothered to learn Morse code, they would have heard, “SOS, my owner has fallen into a hole. SOS, my owner needs help. SOS, I am very hungry,” over and over again.

Disheartened by the stupidity of the humans, Butter found a laptop computer. It tried to type a message, but its paws were as subtle as hammers on crackers. To make it more incomprehensible, it did not understand the backspace key, and spelling was definitely its kryptonite. The message looked more like the track listing to a Sigur Rós album. Turning inner words into outward words was much harder than Butter imagined it would be. This must be how a classic Latin speaking man in a world of crazy slang English feels.

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Lie Like No One’s Watching

Posted on September 30, 2019 by sungmokoo

Red Lobster®, the Pauly Shore of fine dining, is surprisingly the fifth most popular place to make a wedding proposal.

Stella Odawella’s squinted her eyes with great scrutiny, which made her sturdy mustache wiggle as she asked him again, “Did you sleep with her?”

Barry DeHatchett snorted, and looked around the Red Lobster®. He was pleasantly shocked to see that, indeed, he had slept with her, as well as every woman in here. He casually took a sip of water as he ran through a list of lies. His shaking hands betrayed him.

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Forward Nostalgia

Posted on September 29, 2019 by sungmokoo

One day, we will have to over explain to the next generation that cartoons aired on Saturday mornings only. In return, they will look at you with apparent pity in their eyes, thinking we have networks dedicated to cartoons, you pathetic old person.

When I was a kid, back in the 1970’s, Saturday morning meant two things, cartoons and hungover mom and dad barely lumbering about, their centers of gravity greatly affected, dragging their feet on the ground as if they were sacks of potatoes, it sure smelled like it, doing everything they could to get us out of their hair.

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At The Coma, Coma Cabana

Posted on September 29, 2019 by sungmokoo

When you wake up and see this happening to you, it is best to force yourself back into unconsciousness.

Contessa Von Clitton had been in an induced coma for three days. It turned out her sudden burst of intelligence was not from reading 68 consecutive issues of “Entertainment Weekly” cover to cover, but from her brain growing at an alarming exponential rate dangerously close to shattering her cranium.

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