A Christmas Poem From The Terminator Future

Twas Christmas Eve and in a bunker, John Connor was a-hiding.

For just one night he prayed he’d find reprieve from all the fighting.

He hunkered down, surveyed his room, and all that he could see

Was a photo of his mother with a gutted-out humvee.

A sock was hung upon his rifle with the greatest care

With the hope that killer robots wouldn’t bust into his lair.

His eyelids became heavy as his thoughts began to trail

When from above he heard a single gunshot, then a wail!

Move!

I’ve always been a quick walker. You know those assholes you see weaving in and out of foot traffic, moving at twice the speed of the herd of humanity on the sidewalk? I’m one of those assholes. Walking through Times Square makes me hate tourists. Walking by Penn Station makes me hate Americans. People walk one way while looking another way. People walk slow. People walk hand-in-hand, taking up the whole sidewalk, so I have to walk in the fucking street just to get around them. I was walking through Borders the other day, and I knew exactly where I had to get to, but I was stuck behind one of these “browsers”. I was holding a hardcover book and I started drumming my fingers on it, in the hopes that she’d hear the commotion and move out of my way. It worked, but it took too long. So now I’m dealing with an urge to yell “Move!” or clap my hands just when I’m walking down the street. Something like that would get my ass kicked, I know, but people really are too much slower than me for traveling to be convenient anymore. Seriously, get out of my way. I wish I were one of those homeless maniacs so no one would think twice when I push my way through the crowds by the strength of my body and my stench.

How to Prevent Household Monks

While Roman Catholic monks may work and pray diligently for the sanctity of mankind, they can cause problems for homeowners. Whether they’re chanting in your pantry, worshipping in your family room, or repenting in the garage, an infestation of monks can seriously jeopardize your health, home, and property.

[Click here to protect yourself!]

North Bergen Is Magic

Hi, and welcome to this hour’s complementary Walking Tour of North Bergen. My name is Steve “Methadone Man “ McGough, and I am mayor of North Bergen’s homeless. You see, we North Bergen bums stage bona fide elections to determine who will be the bum mayor of the town. Think that’s interesting? Well, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

To our right is James J. Braddock Park. That’s right; the boxer who they based the film “Cinderella Man” on was from North Bergen, NJ. And you see all those trees in that park? If you slide a spigot into the side of any one of those trees, you can draw French onion soup from it like sap. And the beehives are full of warm marinara sauce.

[But that's not all!]

Video Game Clairvoyant

The holidays are finally over. I like the holiday season because I like gifts and egg nog. I also tend to drink more (egg nog, etc.) during this most wonderful time of the year, and that suits me just fine. Nothing blasts away the doldrums of Autumn depression like a few consecutive benders with close enablers. But, that’s just me. A lot of people dig the holidays because they get to see family. I guess that’s cool, but I think family is a bunch of hype. I didn’t exactly choose to be born into this clan. So why should I be forced to enjoy pie and coffee cordially with you people?

I’m sorry, it’s the truth. If I can’t be honest today, then when?

The only family member I ever looked forward to seeing every holiday was Cousin Katherine.

[Click here to read the rest!]