Columns -
The Wordslayer
8.30.2009
"Better late than never" is a good rule, unless you're talking about getting shot in the face.
8.13.2009
They say if you don't ask for something you won't get it. But sometimes if you do ask for something, you also won't get it. Like, I asked my wife for the Congressional Medal of Honor. Do I stand before you as the recipient of the highest award an American soldier can receive? No. Do I sit before a computer screen as my wife drinks white wine in front of a reality show downstairs? You decide.
7.28.2009
Some people eat an apple a day to keep the doctor away. Me, I got a restraining order. Because my doctor likes to smoke and do donuts in my driveway. An apple just wasn't doing it.
6.28.2009
There is a fine publication called
The American Rifleman I think that's great. Because I really don't care what non-USA riflemen have to say. Have you ever heard a German rifleman spout off about the benefits of allowing assault weapons on the streets? Der Snoozichkeit is all I have to say.
6.23.2009
I asked the bartender for a sex on the beach. He gave me a mouthful of sand and the rest of the night in jail.
6.18.2009
Alterna-punchlines to the setup, “A man walks into a bar…”
- and opens fire on the small crowd. Luckily, a policeman is walking by just outside. He enters and apprehends the criminal. The shooter spends the rest of his life in prison
- at 10 am on a Tuesday. “Give me a double bourbon,” he says. He spends the rest of his short life an alcoholic who regrets the tragic early death of his beautiful wife.
- to escape Godzilla, who has emigrated from Japan and is walking down the street onto which the bar’s door opens.
- because he works there and his shift is starting.
6.16.2009
I was on the highway. Truck blows by me. Has one of those horse trailers on it. What's the rush? Horse late for a meeting? Bet he can show up five minutes after it starts. I know that when I invite a farm animal to an 8 am I'm cool if they're not the first one there.
Horse can't be comfortable in that trailer. Going 85 miles an hour. Without breaking a sweat. Backwards. Probably thinks he got slipped some kind of hallucinogen. Or some horse.
We'd better watch it, that's all I'm saying. We keep treating horses like this, pretty soon they're going to take over. They're going to start pulling us along in little trailers behind them. It already happened once--stagecoaches. That's all I'm saying.
6.15.2009
Some kids go to ice cream socials. I went to ice cream anti-socials. We'd go to the gym and shoot gelato at each other out of rocket launchers. I didn't learn much about how to get along with other people. But I did learn that taking mango-raspberry to the eye from thirteen feet hurts real bad.
6.14.2009
On re-watching Top Gun, I realize that mistakes were made concerning the characters' fly-boy handles. Maverick? Ice-Man? I would have preferred "Diaper," "Family Movie" and "Bob Wilson."
As in, it would be great if the following words came out of the cigar-filled mouth of the grizzled senior officer: "There's a crisis over the Indian Ocean. Some of you will have to report right away. If I call your name, head to the flight deck asap. Ice Cream. Super Fudge. Married Man."
My nickname would be "Stupid." Or "Baloney Face."
6.13.2009
We get embarrassed when we are woken from a nap. Rather than go back to sleep or take a moment, we stand up, like we're a private being rousted by a drill seargent.
"Were you sleeping?"
"No, I was mowing the lawn."
"It looked like you were sleeping."
"No," said in a condescending tone and with a smirk.
Omar B. is a writer and comic in New York.
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