Category Archives: Humor

Adulting 101: Doing the Laundry

Having bravely moved out of your parents’ home, you will inevitably be faced with the chore of cleaning your clothes or the clothes of your own family. As a proud and functional member of society and a Gen Xer, I am here to help my younger Millennial cohorts with learning the proper way to perform this task.

Step 1: Determine if you need to do your laundry.

Things to consider:

  • Have I really been wearing the same pair of jeans since Martin Luther King Day?
  • Was this T-shirt always polka dotted or are these food stains?
  • Why is my underwear trying to crawl out the bedroom door?

Step 2: I’m probably good for one more day.

Step 3: One week later. Okay. It’s time to wash the clothes.

Step 4: Take your hamper of colored clothes to your washing machine… okay… okay… that was probably too hopeful on my part…

Step 4: Go on a scavenger hunt to find your clothes and your children’s clothes.

“Okay, I’ve looked under the beds, couches, behind doors, on the floor… hey… we have hardwood floors? Honey, did you know we have hardwood floors?”

Step 5: Sort your laundry out into your hampers. Designate one hamper for white clothing and one hamper for colored clothing.

“Hey! That’s separate, but equal, pal, and I’m not racist.”

That’s not what I meant. Oh… you’re just going to cram it all into one hamper… wow… okay, so you’re probably going to skip Step 6 too.

Step 6: Carefully check all of the pockets for foreign objects that might stain your clothing or damage your… and now you’re standing on the hamper trying to shove it all down… no, no, I’m sure that’s equally good.

Step 7: Load your washing machine. While filling up the washing machine, you should leave some empty space at the top so as not to overload… or… okay, yes, I suppose you could put a box of your old college textbooks on top of the lid so it stays down. But I’m pretty sure that’s not recommended by the washing machine’s manufacturer, but what do they know, right?

Step 8: Add laundry detergent. You will want to carefully measure out the proper amount of detergent… or you could just fill up the container to the brim…

Step 9: Select your wash cycle. There is no cycle for “I just jammed everything into this stupid fucking machine because I want this to be fucking over with” so let’s go with Normal.

Step 10: Start your washing machine. Ignore any unusual sounds you hear during operation… but you may want to double check and count your children and pets… just in case.

Step 11: Take a break. Enjoy your free time while the washing machine magically makes your clothes not stink.

Step 12: Come back in four or five days. Realize you fucking forgot to move the laundry from the washing machine to the dryer and rewash your clothing with vinegar to try and destroy the funky smell they now have. It won’t work, but instead of smelling like moldy cheese, your clothing will smell like moldy cheese with vinegar! And that will remind people of salads.

Step 13: Okay, seriously, I did this again? Rewash the laundry one more time.

Step 14: Put your laundry into the dryer. You will notice that all of your white clothes are now a lovely shade of pink from being washed with your red shirts. Also, I’m pretty sure there was a pen, a marker, a crayon, and some caramels in the pockets that are now scattered and dyed into your other clothes.

Step 15: Check the dryer’s lint trap and clean it out. Lint is highly flammable… No? You’re not going to do that. You’re going to start the machine on high? Have you checked the tags on your clothes-? Okay, fine.

Step 15: Start the dryer. Hope for the best.

Step 16: Grab the fire extinguisher and scream at your significant other to call 911.

Step 17: Buy new clothes with the insurance settlement.

I hope this guide has helped you. You are now one step closer to being a functional adult.


Adulting 101: How to clean your house

It comes to my attention that some people might need some help transitioning into adulthood. And as a successful, fully-functional and well-adjusted member of society, I think I can be of assistance to you.

So, you have your own place. Good. But do you know how to keep it neat and tidy? Simply follow these easy steps and you too can have a clean house.

Step 1: Determine to clean the house.
Step 2: Assess the state of your house’s filth.
Step 3: Fuck this shit. No. I’ll do it on the weekend. Watch TV instead.
Step 4: Wait, is that a raccoon picking through garbage in the corner? Fine. I suppose it’s time to clean.
Step 5: Oh, fuck this fucking fuck fuck who the fuck just throws trash on the fucking ground? Fuck!
Step 6: Is that… it is… they put food in their fucking closet. Do you want ants? Because that’s how you get ants.
Step 7: Find and sort mail from January… of last year.
Step 9: Reconsider your choices in life. Okay, my kids are at church… my wife isn’t home yet. If I leave now, I can be in Mexico before they notice.
Step 10: Reconsider your reconsideration. Maybe it would just be easier to set the house on fire and start over?
Step 12: Put away laundry for the two children you have and the eight children whose laundry they apparently contracted you to wash because how the fuck can two children have so many fucking clothes?
Step 13: Drink.
Step 14: Drink.
Step 15: Reconsider your life choices again. “Why can’t I have a nice clean house? I bet if I were gay, I could have a nice house. They always seem to have nice houses on HGTV.”
Step 16: Drink.
Step 17: Drink
Step 1… what step… what the fuck was I writing? Fuck it. I’m watching TV.

And that, dear Millennials, is how you clean your house.

The Prayer Breakfast

The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And he said to him, “I will give you all their authority and splendor; it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. If you worship me, it will all be yours.”


“I’m sorry, what?”

“I was speaking of our upcoming prayer breakfast.”

“Of course, Saul, I’m sorry, I was just thinking of my brother. Do continue.”

“It’s our annual Roman Legionnaire Memorial Prayer Breakfast. I was mentioning that the regional governor, King Agrippa would be delighted to give the keynote address.”

“Do you think that will make things awkward with John being in attendance?”

“No,” Saul said. “King Agrippa is one of us now, therefore all is forgiven. Besides, he has already been delivering on his promises to appoint conservative justices.”

“But he did have John’s brother executed and put Peter in jail.”

“That was before he became a Christian, so we’re giving him a mulligan.”

“Of course we are,” James sighed.

“And I have heard news that Emperor Caligula will also be in attendance.”

“The Emperor? Isn’t he known for sleeping with the wives of other men?”

“Fake news,” Saul replied. “You’ve been listening to Philo and Seneca on CNN, haven’t you?”

“He appointed a horse to the Senate!”

“James, you’re forgetting that he also gave us a record tax cut.”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“Well, he gave it to the rich, as the Lord intended. It will eventually trickle down to us.”

“That’s not the only thing I’ve heard about him that trickles, Saul.”

“But you forget. We can now say ‘Merry Christmas’ instead of ‘Happy Saturnalia.’”

“My brother wasn’t even born in December, Saul.”

“I must say, James, I do believe you may be under the influence of Satan. Emperor Caligula is the most friendly Emperor for religious freedom we’ve ever had.”


“Well, we aren’t electing a pastor, we’re electing an Emperor.”


“Only because three million illegal aliens from Gaul voted against him.”

The Big Whoop Book: Chapter 5: Families


Am I right?

Goodness knows why you irritating little monkeys choose to cluster together with other irritating little monkeys so you can drive each other insane, but you do. And it’s clear from the state of things down there that you all could use a little help in how not to be an asshole to those irritating little monkeys that share strands of your DNA, but bear in mind that Big Whoop is not a therapist. Big Whoop continues, in fact, to not exist. So take everything we say on the matter with a grain of salt.

These are general guidelines and will not necessarily apply to your specific situation.

Are we good then? Celestial lawyers, are we good?

Right then.

Let’s start with parents.

Parents, listen to your children. Yes, yes, I know most of what they say is annoying and useless chatter about TV or video games or who isn’t friends with who anymore and dear God does this little monkey ever shut the hell up? Jesus Christ, why can’t I get a moment of silence so I can hear my own thoughts?! AHHHHHHHH!

But I digress. Listening to your child shows that you think they’re important and will hopefully allow you to build the sort of relationship where your child feels free to tell you anything. Even if it’s information you’d rather not know.

Also, read to them.

Hug your children.

Tell them that you love them.

Teach them to be kind.

Teach them why they should be kind. Empathy.

Discipline the little shits when you have to. But Big Whoop is not a proponent of spanking. Big Whoop doesn’t go around whacking you on the behind when you do something naughty, after all.

Don’t take your toddlers or elementary school kids to see rated R movies.

Take your screaming little monkeys outside if they refuse to be quieted.

If your child is sick, keep them home if at all possible. I realize some of you live in America and the rule of America is “Fuck you, I’ve got mine.” But do your best, okay?

Prayer is not medicine. Take your child to the doctor.

Unless there is a valid medical reason, vaccinate your children. Despite you being the product of several billion years of evolution from a single cell organism into a complex lifeform, there are still many, many single cell organisms that will fuck your shit up, yo. Give your child what advantages you can.

Spouses, realize that every little thing you do that annoys your partner will be done to you by your children and at some point, you will ask, “Wow. Am I really that much of an annoying cunt?”

Yes. Yes, you are. Deal with it and do your best to stop doing those things that irritate your partner and teach your kids to stop doing them too.

Provide for your children. If only because one day they will probably choose the old folk’s home you end up in.

Cherish the time you have with them. They’ll be out of the house sooner than you imagine.

Children, listen to your parents. They’ve lived longer. They’ve fucked up in all the ways one can fuck up and hopefully they’ve learned from it, so if you listen to them you might avoid fucking up the same way.

Give them respect if they deserve it.

Provide for them in their old age if possible.

Cherish the time you have with them. They’ll be gone sooner than you imagine.

If your parent is abusive, they have severed the relationship. Get help. If you are an adult who survived the abuse, you do not owe your parents anything.

Conversely, if your child is abusive towards you, they’re an asshole, cut them out of your life until they choose to change.

Husbands and wives, listen to your spouse. Make them feel heard. Let them know that they are important enough to you that you divert your full attention to them. Shut down the computer. Turn the phone off. Turn the volume on the TV down and make eye contact when they speak to you.

Love your spouse. Hug them. Kiss them. Leave notes for them. Bring them flowers or candy or oral sex often. This applies to men and women, Big Whoop is not selfish or sexist. Send the kids to grandma’s, and when they come home from work, greet them naked with a glass of their favorite adult beverage. Remember their birthday. Remember their favorite song. Remember their favorite restaurant. You have so many electronic devices to help you remember those things.

Look, my little monkeys. You have precious little time on this ball of dirt. Cherish one another while you’re there. And above all, be kind.

The Big Whoop Book: Chapter 3

Before we begin, I sincerely apologize for missing our weekly talk last week. It would seem that in my transition to the mortal plane, I became susceptible to your mortal diseases like a common monkey and found myself suffering from a zombie virus that turned my eyes red and left me with a craving for human brains.

So, to make it up to you and especially the three of you who are now getting by on only 61% of your lovely delicious brains, I’ve talked it over with Big Whoop and he agreed that we should talk about the subject of sex this week.

I don’t feel the need to explain sex to you, since there are seven billion of you little monkeys running around down there, and ten times as many pornographic movies on your internet. You seem to have figured out the mechanics of sex quite well enough on your own.

But we will talk about what Big Whoop thinks of sex. For those of you coming from other religions, it will come as a pleasant surprise to you that Big Whoop is very sex positive. After all, he did invent sex.

Well… not really. He invented asexual reproduction. It was you little meat machines who evolved a bit and said, “Well, fuck that shit” and got right to boning like horny bunnies. But Big Whoop was very impressed by your enthusiasm for it and heartily approves of you animals bumping your naughty bits together in very creative ways.

Now, Big Whoop’s one guideline for sex is “Don’t be an asshole.”

Other than that, you go be straight, gay, bi, bi-curious, lesbian, asexual, trans-men, trans-women, trans-men into trans-women, trans-women into trans-women, straight men into three ways with women and transmen… whatever your little horny heart’s desire.

Big Whoop does not give a fuck who you fuck or where you fuck, even in the asshole, provided, of course, that you are not an asshole.

“But how do you know if you’re being an asshole?” you ask.

Are you hurting anyone with your ribald acts of carnality?

No? Then you’re not being an asshole.

What if they want you to hurt them?

Big Whoop is cool with that. You should see his browser history. Just make sure you communicate with your partner or partners openly and honestly first. And respect the boundaries that are set. This is sex. Everyone should be having a good time.

For the male monkeys, no one wants to see your genitals. They are not that impressive. If they were, they would already be in actual film, and not the sort of film you make with your smart phone. Frankly, your dangly bits are just weird. It’s like an elephant with saggy jowls is growing out of your pelvis. In fact, it’s making me vomit a little in my mouth just now. So stop taking and sending unwanted pictures of your genitals to other people. It’s not polite and you’re being an asshole if you do.

While we’re on the subject, keep your arms and hands inside the vehicle at all times. That is, don’t grab someone or touch someone unless you have permission to touch or grab them. You should have learned this in kindergarten.

It doesn’t matter what they are wearing. Why would you even ask that? Yes, he’s wearing a mankini. Perhaps he’s very proud of that beer belly and feels sexy showing it off to the world. It does not give you the right to grab ass without permission. So stop it.

It does not matter if you are ‘only joking.’ As an example, here is a very funny joke. Did you hear the one about the man who grabbed a woman’s genitals without her permission? She punched him in his testicles and he folded like someone looking at a two and a seven in poker.

It does not matter if they have previously shown off their bodies in a movie, television, magazine, or internet spread. Doing so doesn’t remove their ability to decide who gets to hump their leg like a naughty dog and who does not.

But, what if I think they’re okay with touching, but then find out that they’re not…

Then say you’re sorry and stop touching them. Don’t be a wanker. No, wait… to clarify, you can wank all you want, just don’t be an asshole.

What if they’re really hot, but they can’t tell me they don’t want to be touched?

Big Whoop is very big on the idea of consent, so don’t be an asshole and take sexual advantage of a drunk or incapacitated person. Get them home safely and leave. If you’re a standup sort of bloke, hold her hair while she vomits, tuck her into bed, go home or sleep on her couch, and get her a Sausage McMuffin and Coffee the following day. Hungover people appreciate that shit.

If you think someone is attractive and would like a date, ask them. If they say no, back off for a while. You may ask again later, maybe they really are busy that night, but if they say no a second time, stop bothering them.

If you are attracted to someone at work, read the situation. If you care about your job, Big Whoop suggests you follow your company’s rules about fraternization. If they say it’s okay to date, then ask the object of your affection on a date. If they say no, then respect their wishes. You get one… perhaps two tries, then you need to bugger off.

Do not use someone as an object for your own satisfaction.

Do not lie to someone in an attempt to get consent, do not lie to a partner, do not lie by omission to a partner about your fidelity. Big Whoop values honesty.

Consent should be clear and enthusiastic. Using coercion, power, or guilt to get laid is for assholes. Stop that shit.

Now, I think that should be a helpful guide to not being an asshole while running about humping every willing thing you meet like you humans do. And remember, as you’re grunting and moaning and sweating and making that weird face you monkeys make when you ejaculate… Big Whoop is watching… without pants.

“Biblical Stewardship” GOP Edition…

“Okay, so here’s the keys to the place. You guys enjoy it. My house is your house.”
“Sounds great, God. Oh, uh, we can have whatever’s in the fridge, right?”
“Uh… yeah. Sure. Whatever you guys need.”
“What if we see a shiny stone in like the backyard… could we like dynamite the garage… dig down with an excavator and pull out the shiny stones?”
“Uh. What?”
“Oh, or like if there’s some shit we want to dig up and burn… could we like drill some holes in the garden, blast the bedrock with toxic chemicals and pull that shit up and burn it?”
“N-no… no… ”
“And sometimes we’ll have like a little whoopsie-doodle and spill toxic shit all over your dogs and cats. Is that okay?”
“Get the fuck out.”

The Big Whoop Book: Chapter 2

Your humble Exalted Reverend Most High Grande Nacho Supreme Poobah has been a bit under the weather this week. So he’s not going to suffer through both a mild bout of the flu and the Quran, so we will continue our exploration of our new religion, Whoopee, and our new deity Big Whoop. Today, we’ll be answering some questions that arose from finding out a new deity existed.

Why should I follow Big Whoop instead of my current deity?

That is a very good question. To answer that, let me ask you a question? Has your God ever decided to destroy the world and drown all of the cute baby meat critters because people suck? If so, that should be a good enough reason to consider a less homicidal deity.

Another good reason is that unlike all of the other deities out there, Big Whoop is honest enough to admit right up front that he does not, in fact, exist.

He doesn’t exist?

Not in the slightest.

Isn’t it kind of odd to follow a god that doesn’t exist?

That hasn’t stopped all of the other gods from building their own religions, so Big Whoop does not foresee this to be a problem for the most holy religion of Whoopee either.

Do you have any proof that Big Whoop doesn’t exist?

Yes. Unlike other deities, Big Whoop is not shy or timid about showing up in front of everybody and saying, “Hi there!” So you can rest assured that if Big Whoop did exist, you would damn well know it.

So is there an afterlife?


Big Whoop is terribly sorry about that. You see, Big Whoop actually didn’t intend to make humans. He was fiddling around with some amino acids some 4 billion years ago and constructed a single cell. It was quite cool. What was even cooler was that this little organic machine started to copy itself.

“That is neat-o,” said Big Whoop. “I wonder if I can build another one?”

So he build another little machine, then another. And they all copied themselves. Of course, some of them didn’t copy themselves so well, so soon there were billions of different kinds of little cells all floating about unconsciously in the ocean.

I think we can all agree that an afterlife for a little single cell is completely unnecessary, so Big Whoop didn’t bother constructing one.

I mean, he hardly expected you little cells to start organizing into meat creatures, let alone somehow attain consciousness and start asking philosophical questions about the meaning of life and such.

So, no, there is no afterlife. Big Whoop apologizes for the inconvenience.

Wait, couldn’t Big Whoop whip one up right now?

Well, of course, he could. But that might take years and frankly, some of you are looking like you can’t wait that long.

Also, there is the slight matter of Big Whoop’s non-existence which might put a bit of a dampener on any plans to construct an afterlife.

So, it might happen, but sadly, I cannot promise you an afterlife, no promise of eternity. Just a promise of now. You are alive now. You exist now. Enjoy it. Enjoy every little moment of your extremely improbable life. Cherish every hug, remember every kiss, think warmly of every joy, and remember that every sorrow is temporary for one day you will fall asleep and simply be gone.

That seems rather unfair.

I’m sorry, that wasn’t a question.

Doesn’t that seem rather unfair?

No more so than your previous non-existence before your birth was ‘unfair.’

Why would we be moral if there’s no afterlife?

Are you saying you really need the threat of punishment after death to be a moral person?

Uh… maybe?

Fine, I suppose we could humor you if you really are that psychologically damaged.

When you die, an angelic hall monitor shaped like a potato will arrive to take you to the Big Whoop’s Principal’s Office where he’ll look over your permanent record and decide how long you have to spend in Big Whoop’s Timeout Corner for Very Naughty Monkeys.

While stuck in Timeout, everyone you’ve ever met or ever will meet will come by and tell you to your face about all the times you were an asshole to them.

And once that’s over, you can go out and play at Recess.

Recess? Is that like heaven?

With the clouds and the harps and the constant telling a deity how wonderful he is? No. Recess is just that. Go outside, play, build your own little single-cell machines, smoke behind the gym, whatever, just get out of Big Whoop’s face and leave him alone. He has many god things to do, you know?

God things?

Yes. As in “none of your monkey business.”

It’s porn, isn’t it?

Oh, yes., You think you’ve seen nudity. You haven’t begun to comprehend the subject until you’ve seen two multi-dimensional entities phase shift into the sane plane and insert their ethereal glowy bits into one another’s semi-permeable membranes.

If Big Whoop is all-powerful and all-loving, why is there evil in the world?

Please refer back to the ‘he doesn’t exist’ answer.

But if you created Big Whoop, then doesn’t he exist in some capacity?

My, you are a clever hairless monkey, aren’t you?

Yes, I suppose in some capacity, now that I’ve created him, Big Whoop does exist. But since one of the attributes of Big Whoop is his non-existence, we’re left with a conundrum. “Conundrum” of course, being a very fancy word for saying that this religion doesn’t really make sense. And since no other religion cares about making sense, I fail to see why Big Whoop cannot both exist and not exist at the same time. A = Not A is only a problematic statement when you’re attempting to construct a logical argument after all, and faith is simply not logical.

Now then, this chapter has almost reached a thousand words, so I won’t bore you any further this week. We’ll be answering more of your questions regarding your new Lord and God in the coming weeks, but for now, we shall bring this chapter to a close. And to entice you to return, next week, we will discuss something you naughty monkeys are very fond of and obsessed over: sexual intercourse. Won’t that be a hoot?