Category Archives: tomfoolery

I AM A MASTER OF SINANJU, HEAR ME ROAR.

You did not ask to be white. So perhaps that is not your fault. You did not ask to be here. Perhaps that is not your fault, either.

BUT THIS IS HOW I FEEL ON THE INSIDE, CHIUN.

Women should stay home and make babies. Preferably, manchild.

HE IS THE ONLY MANCHILD I’VE SEEN LATELY.

PART OF ME REALLY WANTS TO EAT THIS…

It would be better for you to eat this can than what is inside of it. Why must everything in this country be coated with monositi-… monosoti…

MONOSODIUM GLUTAMATE. YOU CAN’T EVEN SAY IT!

I can say “rat droppings.” That does not mean I want to eat them.

WORD.

YOU KNOW, CHIUN, YOU’RE A REAL PAIN IN THE ASS.

That is because it is the fastest way to your brain.

WHATCHYOOTALKIN’BOUT, LITTLE MAN? I’LL WHOOP YOUR CHINESE ASS!

Chinese! KOREAN is the most perfect creature ever to sanctify the earth with the imprint of its foot.

YEAH BRAH. I CAN SEE THAT VERY CLEARLY. FOR REALS, MAN UP – I’M ‘BOUT TO KICK YOU IN THE BALLS.

Breathe out… slowly… do not gulp. If you do not breathe correctly, you do not move correctly. Pitiful. I can see the deadly hamburger has done its evil work. This is your future:

SWEET FANCY MOSES, CHIUN! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SHOW ME SHIT LIKE THAT, SON?

Is this more to your liking, slow-footed yak?

YOU KNOW, CHIUN, THERE ARE TIMES WHEN I REALLY LIKE YOU.

Of course. I am Chiun.

FUCK IT – LET’S GO TO CONEY ISLAND, CHIUN.

BONUS ROUND:

SEPARATED AT BIRTH?

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Filed under fun at work, hypothetical conversations with obscure movie characters, nuggets of infinite wisdom, separated at birth?, sinanju, tomfoolery

THE BALLAD OF THE MAN THEY CALL PEPTO

I’m in a storytellin’-type of mood today, you warm and fuzzy little nogoodniks, and I’m having a hard time keeping the lid on this one:

That’s my most loyal and dedicated employee right there. Most of the time, I call him Buford – but he recently called me up at five o’thirty in the motherfucking morning to tell me he had consumed two full cans of baked beans, and was subsequently unable to come to work because he was shitting his brains out – so now I call that motherfucker Pepto.

Now – as I stated already – Pepto is my MOST LOYAL AND DEDICATED employee. That’s not to say he’s the sharpest chimp in this jungle I get paid to run – he’s kind of like a 50 watt bulb in a 100 watt world – but he does his job well, and he cares about his job. Of course, he has to care about his job, because he lives in his sister’s basement. The other chimps that work here like to pick on Pepto, making fun of him for living all the way up in Mt. Kisco (in the aforementioned basement). Mt. Kisco is in Westchester County, which is where people like M-M-M-Martha Stewart have set up camp. The other chimps are basically jealous, because they all live in rat-infested basement apartments in the dirty Bronx (which means that they should look forward to coming to Midtown to come to work, ungrateful little fuckstains).

Pepto is one of those cats, that no matter how bad your day is going, as soon as he opens up his mouth and speaks – the madness of his logic will cure whateverthefuck ails you.

Some of Pepto’s greatest diamonds and pearls:

1) One afternoon, one of the other chimps was talking about how much he loved the smell of rain or some other bullshit like that (actually – it was probably the smell of reefer, knowing my staff). Pepto, out of nowhere, coughs up this one:

“YOU KNOW WHAT SMELLS BETTER THAN ANYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD? LITTLE GIRLS! NOTHING SMELLS BETTER THAN LITTLE GIRLS. I LOVE THE SMELL OF LITTLE GIRLS!”


(Yes – everyone’s jaws were hanging with Mr. Cooper)

Needless to say, there is hardly a day that passes where I don’t find myself looking at Pepto and wondering if he is a victim of Shaken Baby Syndrome and/or if I’ll end up seeing him on one of those Dateline stings exchanging IMs with a cop with a handlebar ‘stache and a coffee-stained tie.

2) Another afternoon, the other chimps were making fun of Pepto because he’s always yammering on about hookers (and METAL – PEPTO LOOOOOOOVES HIM SOME MOTHERFUCKING METAL). One of the other chimps decided it would be fun to allude to the fact that Pepto seems to have a predilection for transsexual Ladies O’ The Night. Pepto responded with this nugget:

“WHATEVER – ALL OF THE TRANNY HOOKERS ARE BLACK OR LATINO! THEY DEAL DRUGS OUT OF THEIR ASSHOLES. EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT, YOU DUMBASSES!”

Need I say a word about that one? I didn’t think so…

3) Pepto cares a lot about ROCK AND MOTHERFUCKING ROLL. On multiple occasions, he has found himself in the middle of heated discussions in the workplace about Hip Hop and the assimilation of ROCK AND MOTHERFUCKING ROLL into the lexicon of BEATS. More nugs:

“THEY ALWAYS TAKE OUR FUCKING BEST MUSIC! WHY DID RUN-DMC HAVE TO STEAL FROM AEROSMITH? WE NEED TO TAKE OUR METAL BACK! THIS IS BULLSHIT! FUCKING RAP MUSIC, YOU PEOPLE THINK YOU’RE FUCKING SMART STEALING GOOD RIFFS! OZZY WOULD KICK YOUR ASS FOR STEALING HIS STUFF, YOU MORONS!”


When it was brought to Pepto’s attention that ROCK AND MOTHERFUCKING ROLL actually originated in Afrika (just like all of us, motherfuckers), he was beside himself. And when it was also brought to his attention that Ozzy himself had allowed plenty of Hip Hop artists to sample his work – we hid the razor blades.

Needless to say, I love me some Pepto. He’s kind of like an albino version of Sammy Davis Jr., albeit with both eyes and an inability to croon. Always entertaining, always dedicated to doing his job.


I just hope he never breeds.

And ladies?

Pepto is single and looking*.

*Obviously, his requirements might be out of the realm of my supposed readership – I highly doubt the audience is made up of drug-dealing underage trannies. Oh my fucking god I just threw up in my mouth.

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Filed under fun at work, nuggets of infinite wisdom, Pepto, rock and motherfucking roll, tomfoolery