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I left my window open to let some of the chilled Spring air in and fell asleep. Little did I know that in my unthinking act I had let into my room the roving hounds of terror: Mosquitoes. It has long been thought that the last escapee of Pandora’s mythical box had been a honeyed drop of hope to sooth the worry, the guilt, the fear that had leapt free. This is a lie I am afraid. It was not hope but the first mosquito mother full of it’s swarming mass of swamp-bred progeny, created to bring agony and pain to all of man kind.

These are the horrors that I willingly let fly into my room during sleep.

Their buzzing snapped me awake from the midst of a pleasant dream. The infernal buzzing, strafing my face like angry fighter planes, setting the battle ground of my body afire with their unnatural needs. That hellish buzzing, driving me to madness.

My attempts to murder them all with my bare hands were in vain. Thinking it best to allow them victory and the territory of my comfortable room, I retreated to the couch to sleep and think of how best to tackle this new menace. Fighting the urge to scratch the many welts left by their thrice damned thirst for blood, I fell into a fitful sleep. They would not let me be though. Somehow they had found me and again were slowly draining my will to live. Why God? Why had you created such foul things?

I imagine the good Lord painting on the beautiful canvas of earth a forest scene: Strong mountains, topped with mist and snow in the background. Closer, you can see the mighty trees reaching out to the heavens in their full pine glory. You can smell their foliage as they play shadow games with the sun’s loving rays. Closer still a fawn! Fresh of life and new with promise, she drinks innocently from a trickling stream. Wait… Something is wrong though, something off. You can hear them, their buzzing. Flying death, rife with diseases and pestilence. They ruin the scene, the moment, the world.

It was in my ruminations on the question of “why” that I fell upon an incredible thought. The solution to my problems. The ULTIMATE solution to mosquito menace. I left the couch and padded softly back to my room willing them to follow. Once in my room I turned the air conditioning as low as it would go. If the June winds could not finish these abominations, I would do it with science. Bundled warm and protected in my sheets, I waited. I was not disappointed.

Their black hearts pumping stolen blood could not beat while in the icy chamber of death I had created for them. Man has triumphed again over nature. Like the ancient monuments of old, like the towering sky scrapers in cities the world over, like the heavy cement dams controlling a river’s flow, so I have joined the ranks of immortality. I have paved my way into man’s struggle versus the elements over the wretched mass of their frozen corpses. Bwa ha ha ha ah! BWAHAHAHAHA!


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Windy Girl

She must be some kind of a witch, or something.

A well dressed witch.

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wee wee I say!

The cup is full of bee wee wee.

That is the face that a bear makes when he’s getting exactly what it wants.

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The Weather Channel is a fine lady- the finest. Cold blue eyes and fair hair pulled back tight in a bun, not a strand out of place. You would try and woo her but you know in your heart of hearts that all attempts would end in your inevitable failure. You would embarrass yourself somehow, today, tomorrow, thirty years later and you would know that she would know that you’re just a mortal man.

At night she is the last one out of the office after being the first to arrive that morning, fresh in her fashionable business suit. She catches a cab home to her expensive New York City flat in the light rain she predicted earlier that evening. After a modest shower she changes into a thick and cumulous bathrobe, its comfortable folds hugging her frame as her velvet blue tabby named Socrates purrs against her leg. She picks him up and kisses his cheek, whispering softly, “You’re the only man for me,” as a single tear dries at the corner of her eye before it can fall down her perfect glass cheek and shatter the ethereal illusion that is the Weather Channel.


NBC is a corpulent but charming matron. Her fat sausage fingers snatch greedy handfuls of the hors d’oeuvres you set out before your dinner party and you wonder irritatingly to yourself why you invited her into your home. Later though, as everyone is seated but before the meal itself, she recites an anecdote in her shrill, lilting voice that has everyone laughing, dearly smitten. You smile at her from across the table and she matches your stare forcing you to look down and blush involuntarily.

A rumor that she was once an expensive whore flashes briefly in your mind unbidden and curious. You had best watch your drink tonight. A loud belch erupts from her jiggling cheeks, breaking your reverie. You remember a conversation overheard in a filthy men’s room stall somewhere that she murdered her first husband for money. The entire table is staring at you, waiting. NBC repeats her unheard question and you visibly shudder.

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Awful Jokes

A few months ago my computer picked up some spy-ware virus that activated itself every time I search using Google. However, every time it manifests itself, a new browser opens up with a brand new daily joke. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m using a foreign server or what, but these jokes are horrendous.

I’m not saying that they are in bad taste here, I’m talking spelling, grammar, sentence structure, clarity, everything. Its like somebody translated the joke from English into Russian, then into Spanish, and then back again into English. The results are unintentionally hilarious. This spy-ware has endeared itself to me with these jokes, a samplage of which I will share with you today unedited and in their full glory:

pronoun Teacher : name two pronouns.
Student : who? me?
Teacher : correct

An irish man went for shopping to buy National flag.
shopkeeper had shown him the flags.
the irish Man asks : may i have this in some other colour

A teacher told all students in a class to write an essay on a cricket match.
All were busy writing except one Blonde.
She wrote “DUE TO RAIN, NO MATCH”.

A Boy Friend asks to her BLondee Girl friend
how many balls are there in one over in cricket
Blondee says : one ball; the one ball is thrown six times

Teacher says to draw A Picture on a Cow eating grass
After some time she asks is it over
Student : says YES
Teacher saw it
And asks where is the grass
Student : Cow ate it
Then She asks where is the Cow
Student : Cow ate the grass and went away

Brain ‘s Factor Once an Blonde asked a frog that …, Does we Blondes have Brain or not?
The Frog jumped into the water without saying anything….,
BLondes shouts “Hey!!! Whats there to get Suicide in this”

TEacher : what do you call a person who keeps on talking without any reason ?
Student : a teacher

There is power off in an Irish house.
His wife lighten a candle.
But Our Irish man is getting sweat.
His wife asked shall i switch on the fan.He said no no .
why? his wife asked.
He told If you on the fan the candle light will go off.

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Oh No, Dogg!

What a dick.

He is being facetious.

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So apparently one of the top searches that brought people to Doodles MAXIMUM this week has been, “double stuf oreos less filling“.



Let’s take a step back and assume for a moment that the person(s) who typed this lie honestly and truly are unaware that they are liars. If they believe in their heart of hearts that Double Stuf Oreos are less filling than the regular, which we all know is false, then they have literally thrown their credibility out the window. I’m not sure what the psychological term for this kind of neurosis is, but I think “stupid-head” works pretty well.

Just look at the science here, folks. Twice as much white creamy stuff, twice as filling. Simple math. And if you’re being schooled in math by me, well, you’re in a whole world of problems already.

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