Category: Comedy (page 1 of 2)

There’s No Such Thing as a Free Handjob

There’s No Such thing as a Free Handjob.

A comedy satire by Epicdelusion.

Sven, Tyler and Buddy are roommates living off campus while attending a small, prestigious liberal arts college.

Buddy is an economics major with a 4.3 GPA, and a bit of a provocateur. Attempting to showcase the inevitable failures of socialism in contrast to free market capitalism, he decided he would use handjobs as an analogy in his dissertation.

Six whiskey shots and a few bong rips into the night, Buddy loudly proclaimed to his roommates (who were partaking in the intoxicating festivities as well)

“There’s no such thing as a free handjob!”

Sven chuckled, taking careful precaution not to choke on his bong rip, and replied “I guess you’ve never met Tyler’s mom”.

Tyler laughed and fired back: “or Sven’s little sister.”

“Seriously, you dumb asses.” Buddy said as he fought to bring about a level of momentary seriousness, “listen to this.”

“The average first date costs roughly $80 according to Cosmopolitan magazine.”

Sven interrupted. “Dude, why are you reading Cosmo-fucking-politan?”

“Shut the fuck up Sven.” Buddy continued…

“Not to perpetuate misogynistic gender roles here, but the man usually pays this $80. He does so in order to increase his minuscule chances at performing the reproductive act. We typically refer to this act as sexual intercourse. ”

Buddy’s words were slightly slurred and he had a tendency to over articulate during what he called ‘the golden level of intoxication.’ His roommates found his verbose ramblings to be a mild source of entertainment and allowed him to continue uninterrupted.

“Understanding that the possibility of coitus for him is highly unlikely, he’ll begin to negotiate with himself and settle for a ‘first date handjob’.  At this point his odds are at 13%.”

“In an effort to increase his odds he attempts to demonstrate clout by tipping the waitress %42.3 of the tab. Unfortunately for him, his date was distracted by a barrage of incoming texts from her concerned girlfriends, and was oblivious to his flashy generosity. He winds up jacking off into a sock after she declines his invitation to come over to watch a movie.”

“Graciously, she agrees to go on another date with him. He finally gets the handjob he was seeking. The total monetary cost to him was $266.  2 dinners, 2 movies, drinks, tips, gasoline for his car, and a half-dozen of roses. A lot of people profited off of his desire to get a limp-wristed handjob. ”

“In the Bronx you can get a decent handjob and a shot of Courvosier, which is included for some reason, for $75. This shows us a few different things. Mainly, that while it’s more economically stimulating to earn a handjob from your date, it’s cheaper to buy one from a prostitute. More importantly, however, it shows us that there’s no such thing as a free handjob. Somebody, somehow, always pays.”

Tyler, at this point, is laughing his ass off and finally gets himself together enough to ask Buddy a question.

“Can’t you just give yourself a handjob? Or maybe be like commies and just get in a big circle jerk?” Tyler asks.

Sven looks at Tyler and sarcastically shrugs and then looks back over at Buddy, awaiting his reply.

Buddy pauses and looks back and forth at both of them and in a frustrated eruption declares :

“You can’t give yourself a fucking handjob!”

My Butler is a Condescending Prick

 

A Comedy Satire by Epicdelusion

Sup, name’s Chet. I left my iphone in my Lambo the other day and didn’t feel like walking outside to get it, so I went into my dad’s den to use his computer.

By the way, that’s the V12 Lamborghini Veneno… you remember that neon yellow blur that zipped past you on the interstate while you were putting along in your Honda Civic? Yeah, that was me.

Anyway, I just needed to get on Facebook messenger real quick to let my buddy know it was cool to swing by. Beer thirty, ya know?

So I got on the computer, and my Dad’s Facebook was still up.

I couldn’t help but notice that he made a comment on our Butler’s post… yeah, you heard me correctly, the Butler’s post.  I was instantly aghast and thought ‘what the fuck is my dad doing?’

The post was actually something he shared from 7 years ago; a picture of his degree from The International Butler Academy. Yeah, I didn’t know there was a Butler Academy either. I thought this guy was just a homeless dude my dad found at the bus stop and felt sorry for.

My dad wrote: “It’s been a pleasure having you Jeffery, we are truly blessed!”

Seriously Dad? Like, what the fuck? “Blessed?”

I walked out of the room and saw Jeffery talking to one of the maids. I’m not sure why, but his face just filled me with utter disgust. Just knowing that he was proud of his “accomplishment” was enough to make me feel sickened by his presence. How dare he summon the audacity to think he could ever be friends with my family?

So, naturally, I had to fuck with him.

“Say there Jeffery, I’m wondering if you could help me with something?” I humbly implored.

Conjuring a phony smile on his face, he walked over and asked how he could be of assistance.

“Well, Jeffery” I said forthrightly, “I’m a 23-year-old college drop out with no fancy degree… what can I do to stop being such a pathetic loser?”

Fidgeting with his cuff he appeared to become very nervous and cumbersome; a noticeable difference from the snobbish demeanor he proudly showcased moments before.

“Well Sir, if you want to get your degree I would, perhaps, consider talking to your father about going back to school?” he politely suggested.

Wrong fucking answer Jeffery, I thought to myself, wrong fucking answer.

You see, you condescending prick, you just agreed that I am a pathetic loser. This is fucked up because you have no idea how hard it is being me and living my life. You don’t know shit Jeffery.

“Thanks” I said to him as I dropped my keys into his hand. “Why don’t you go get my phone out of my car for me?”

I told my Father that it would be in the best interest of the estate to fire Jeffery, but my dad is a spineless coward. “Let’s give him another chance” he practically begged me to let him stay.

What an imbecile he was to fraternize with the butler. A butler who is a condescending prick who needs to look into a mirror and check himself before he wrecks himself.

Finally, a Cage Your Wife Can’t Break Out of

Finally, a cage your wife can’t break out of!

Do you suffer from insecurity and a lack of confidence? Afraid your wife is going to cheat on you with the mail man?

Introducing the all new, cast iron, triple welded, deluxe model ‘Wife Trap 2020’, perfect for protecting your highest valuable asset; your pride.

Put your irrational fear of your wife finding a man with a bigger penis to rest with the ‘Wife Trap 2020’s patented tamper-proof locking system.

The ‘Wife Trap 2020’ also comes with our signature versatility mechanism which allows her to clean the house and do the laundry but is still (amazingly) effective at preventing promiscuous sex with the UPS driver.

Business trip for a weekend? No problem, ‘Wife Trap 2020’ has you covered! Golf day with your colleagues? Aye, forget about it, you got the new and improved ‘Wife Trap 2020’.

Wait, there’s more! If you call now you can get a free upgrade to our ‘Pimp Plan’ and get 2 Wife Trap 2020’s for the price of one!

You’ll be the envy of the neighborhood with the ‘Wife Trap 2020’!  Just listen to these testimonials:

“Hi, my name is John from Colorado. I was always worried that my wife was sneaking out while I was at work to have ridiculous amounts of sex. Now I can put that worry to bed. Thanks Wife Trap 2020!”

“I’m Bill from Tennessee. Since our kids started school I often wondered what my wife was doing home all day long. One time I found a hair in our bed… yeah, it was the same color and length of my hair, but I just couldn’t know for sure. Now that I have the Wife Trap 2020 it’ll be a cold day in hell before she screws around on me again.”

Order now and you’ll receive a complimentary copy of our number one best-selling cookbook: ‘How to freakin’ make dinner without burning it’.

Disclaimer: This is intended to be satire, do not actually lock your wife in a cage you sick bastard. 😉

Creepy Easter Bunny Photos

Easter Sunday is an important religious holiday for Christians as it marks the resurrection of Jesus Christ, but don’t tell that to the Easter bunny.

The Easter bunny, like our friend Santa Claus, exploits a revered holy celebration as merely a method to lure small children with the promise of gifts or candy. The Easter bunny, unlike Santa, has a more devious motivation.

Some Easter bunnies have mastered the art of deception. They’ve fashioned themselves to appear innocent and cuddly, but I assure you they are anything but. They wait for the right moment and then they strike without warning.

Creepy Easter Bunny Pics

This poor, traumatized little girl was rescued moments before this rapacious Easter bunny would have devoured his victim. Small children are a delicacy to Easter bunnies.

Creepy Easter Bunny Photos

This little fella wasn’t so lucky. The Easter bunny’s grasp was just too powerful and the parents were left to helplessly watch the savage feeding.

Creepy Easter Bunny Photos

Here is a rare, vintage photo of an Easter bunny contemplating his decision to which one of the twins he will consume first. It looks like he has his eye on the one on his left (the slightly meatier twin), no?

Creepy Easter Bunny Photos

This Easter bunny appears to be saying “ah, shucks!” as one of his potential victims becomes aware of the danger she faces and flees in absolute horror.

Creepy Easter Bunny Photos

Pictured here is an Easter bunny who has already filled up on small children but cannot resist to at least take a little nibble.

Creepy Easter Bunny Photos

These poor children didn’t even stand a chance against the Easter bunny’s insatiable appetite.

Creepy Easter Bunny Photos

This terrifying image shows how the Easter bunny will chew right through parkas in order to consume a victim who is attempting escape.

Creepy Easter Bunny Photos

Parents, do not be fooled by pastel ornamentation and friendly guises. The Easter bunny, shown above in his natural form, is a horrid beast who feeds once a year and has his eyes fixed on your little ones.

Stay safe and stay alive!

Why I Wouldn’t Marry Meghan Trainor

Meghan Trainor is a pop sensation with a number of hit songs. One of her hit songs entitled ‘Dear Future Husband‘ describes a list of prerequisites for being her future husband.

To be fair, Meghan Trainor doesn’t have a bad voice and as far as pop music goes, she’s actually not the worst out there. The lyrics in her ‘Future Husband’ song, however, are all I needed to hear to know that I would never propose marriage to her.

Let’s break it down.  Here’s verse 1:

“Take me on a date
I deserve it, babe
And don’t forget the flowers every anniversary
‘Cause if you’ll treat me right
I’ll be the perfect wife
Buying groceries
Buy-buying what you need”

I think I could remember some flowers and to take her on a date once in a great while in exchange for her buying groceries and being a perfect wife. At this point, it doesn’t seem like it would be too horrible to be married to her. Let’s continue:

“You got that 9 to 5
But, baby, so do I
So don’t be thinking I’ll be home and baking apple pies
I never learned to cook
But I can write a hook”

Alright, you’re losing me here Meghan. I’m a man that understands the importance and absolute necessity of fresh baked goods in order to keep a happy relationship going. I understand it’s the modern age and women aren’t wearing high heels and cooking all day (what a shame) but come on, would it kill you to bake an apple pie once in a while?

“You gotta know how to treat me like a lady
Even when I’m acting crazy
Tell me everything’s alright”

Wait, what? I’m thinking if she put this line in the song, then perhaps her acting crazy is something that happens rather frequently. Of course, that’s pretty much all women. (sorry gals, you know it’s true.)  I suppose the best way to handle a crazy person is to treat them with extra special care and attention then lie to them and tell them that everything is okay until the syringe full of thorazine is ready.

“Dear future husband,
Here’s a few things you’ll need to know if you wanna be
My one and only all my life
Dear future husband,
If you wanna get that special lovin’
Tell me I’m beautiful each and every night”

So all it takes to get “special lovin'” from Meghan Trainor is to tell her she’s beautiful every night? I wonder if such an agreement can be arranged for one night? Because that’s about the most time that I would want to spend with her.

“After every fight
Just apologize
And maybe then I’ll let you try and rock my body right (right)
Even if I was wrong
[Laugh] You know I’m never wrong
Why disagree?
Why, why disagree?”

I’m sure the first piece of advice that a marriage counselor would offer to a struggling couple would be for the husband to just admit he was wrong and apologize, no matter what. Never mind healthy, adult discussion and actually working on issues and compromising. Just put that tail between your legs boy and sit your ass in the corner with some sad “I’m sorry” puppy dog eyes and wait until she’s ready to scratch behind your ears.

“I’ll be sleeping on the left side of the bed (hey)
Open doors for me and you might get some kisses
Don’t have a dirty mind
Just be a classy guy
Buy me a ring
Buy-buy me a ring (babe)”

Ok, be classy, open up doors for you, buy you a ring… this all sounds pretty manageable, except you’re forgetting one thing; that contradicts your feministic stance of not cooking pies and working 9 to 5.  You can’t have your cake and eat it too, right? I guess you can if you’re Meghan Trainor.

I’m sure there are plenty of ball-less men out there who wouldn’t mind being Meghan Trainor’s lap dog. As a man who has a pair of testicles, however, as well as some god damn dignity for myself, I don’t see myself ever kneeling down in front of her.

Below I’ve posted the song. It’s okay to go ahead and click play and watch the video and give it a listen… and if you like the song, don’t worry, we wont tell anyone. 😉

 

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