Saturday, March 16, 2024

Jack Human’s Third Shorts

 Jack Human’s Third Shorts

Bring a bottle. I ain’t providing one.

By Jack Human

In reverse order:


For God so despised the world and the people inhabiting it he allowed Hollywood to create entertainment that would cause the population to yearn for hell.


[Fiary - a diary that is destined to be burned.]

Dear Fiary,

I discovered that putting peanut butter on a cookie makes it go down more smoothly.


theme = "Alcohol is a serial killer"

Form = poem, song, essay.

Now, I would like one of you to do this and have it finished by Sunday morning. And, I want it with - feeling.


I hope this fluid coming from my urethra is urine. Maybe I should post a photo of it


I search for a hole in my head from which I can escape.


Peanuts & butter do not equal peanut-butter

By the way, another way to express “not equal” is “!=“

Peanut-butter != (peanuts & butter)


Krohnald Bumtung was hungry. He was a grotesque monstrosity who had escaped being slaughtered as a young vicious slug licking butt leech by inhabiting the minds of uneducated simpletons across a wasteland of willful unholy ghouls and dispersing his special brand of horrendous subhuman incompetency in a completely ineffectual attempt to make his mark in a world which considered him the most vile of vomited fecal matter...


Dear Diary,

I am writing on you or, possibly, in you. I’m uncertain. I suppose while you are open, I am absolutely writing ON you, and I suspect that this notion cannot be refuted. Once I close you however, my written words will be INSIDE you. Alas, this is a conundrum the likes of which have been long unknown to me. Or is it myself, or I? I’m kidding. It is ME. 

Having become confused and a bit guilty over whether my writing on and/or in you, is, in fact, a physical assault and hence, a criminal offense, please excuse me for touching you as I will be doing when I attempt to wipe the evidence of my presence off you.


The guy at the doctor’s office asked me to confirm my birthdate as 1958.

So I said, “that’s not right. What kind of a fucking psycho would be born in the 1950’s?”

Turned out the guy was the janitor.


Alligators ate my leg despite the fact I was on a jet plane 30,000 feet in the air at the time.


I've been considering suicide but I know how wrong it is because it's taking work away from somebody else. I'm handy with a wrench but if I have issues with my plumbing, I call a professional plumber. There are many skilled people out there who need the work. Killing myself will deprive them of making money and feeding their families.

When I say "families" I mean "families" plural. I figure people who murder for a living probably aren't concerned over small things like bigamy


Nothing goes better with eggs than sperm. So guess what the early bird special at my diner is today!


On many true crime shows the police interrogators have rolls of toilet paper on the table during these murder investigations we've been watching.

I'm thinking Kleenex is probably too expensive for these communities so the police just steal TP from the crime scene for the murderer to fake cry in.

I wonder if they ever have to send someone around pulling toilet paper out of the hands of people about to wipe. Like, YOINK, "excuse me! We have a murderer to break and I need this!"

"What the hell! How am I supposed to wipe?"

"Shut up! We have a crime to solve!"


Janeen contacted Jerry and told him her husband, William, was a member of organized crime, a drug dealer, and would quite often wear a plaid jacket over a plaid shirt.

It was the plaid on plaid which convinced Jerry to commit the hit on William.


Great news! I've created a pair of underwear that has a USB port for charging smartphones and other small electronic devices.


I'm going to walk around kicking over trees this weekend then I'm going to clean up a skyscraper really well so birds fly into it.


Since I became pro-life, I've been going around knocking the condoms off of fornicators.


Peeling hard boiled eggs is a serious hassle. I don’t like hassles and I no longer bother lifting my underwear up higher than my ankles either. I don’t even waste time swallowing cool drinks once I pour them into my mouth.

I stopped walking to the bathroom when I have a bowel movement. Why the hell should I waste my energy on such trivialities? Sure, I’ve been suspended from my job, but so what? In fact, I’ve decided that not only is peeling hard boiled eggs a hassle but so is boiling them in the first place.

Lifting my eye lids just to see is a hassle too. So is using my vocal chords when I open my mouth to speak.

Crap! Writing this declaration is such a hassle, I have no idea how to ...

(Addendum: My underwear has since left me. It said I let it down once too often. It also said I stink.)

12. Horror Story #2

I was in the restroom at work hiding because that's what I do in there, when someone comes in and starts gagging and coughing. I'm thinking, "Shit, I hope they don't die. I don't want to have to jump over the body. I might touch it by accident."

I couldn’t see the person, but he spit in the sink and then washed his hands. Then he used the urinal and left without washing his hands.

Sensing he was gone, I went to wash my hands because that's what I do with my hands when I’m finished peeing on them, and I could see bloody sputum in the sink he used.

I don't know why I even had to be born.


I'm changing my name to Botulism and am moving to Canada to live with the Doodlebops.


As a vetrinarian, I can tell you that I don’t know how to pronounce ‘veterinarian’.

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If your underwear is too dangerous for you, take control of your damn underwear!


I decided to be like Jesus and I went to a bingo game at a church and knocked over the table from which the balls are drawn.

I hadn't foreseen the results of this action as a crowd of 200 old people immediately jumped up to race toward me with the intention of beating me to a pulp.

I hadn't moved since I knocked over that vile sinful table and I was feeling proud of myself thinking Jesus would be happy, when ten minutes later, the first wave of the mob crossed the six feet separating us, caught up to me, and I realized that I should have ran.


I brought my car in for service because the engine light was on. The mechanic said the car just a valve issue and they have to order the part. He assured me it wasn't serious and the car is safe to drive.

When I opened the door, the car exploded. The mechanic told me, "The door, on the other hand, may be a problem."


I’m starting my 3rd production company. Now, along with the successful NecropR0n Productions and Jump Cuts Productions, you all will thrill at the magnificent Shitty Filters Productions. That’s SFP for those who can’t read anything other than letters.

Shitty Filters Productions will create movies, television shows, and ads that are filtered in order to prevent our audiences from having to be distracted by actors and sets that are visually clear. This way we can encourage the viewer to imagine what may be occurring onscreen while they quit trying to pay attention and begin wondering what they will feed their kids for dinner.

Shitty Filters Productions may not be the first, but we intend to be the best at making you, our customer, know what it is like to have cataracts.


Jim finally told Bill that something had been eating at him for weeks. Bill pointed out the coyote attached to Jim’s leg.


One in three deaths is caused by dying.


Today when I was driving, I seen a sign what says, “No parking on either side of street”, so I parked in the middle and bought my drugs there.


A support customer called me because his email didn't work. He talked over me for a few minutes and finally said "I'm not connected to the internet"

And this is why I support gun control.


I've made it my mission to wear underwears what doesn't have no leg holes.

Any hole in a underwears only serves to weaken and undermine its purpose. Therefore, the most perfect underwears in the universe will not have any leg holes or any kind of opening at all. They will be entirely sealed and impenetrable from within and without.

In addition to the general health benefits of perfectly formed no-holes underwears, squirrels and other rodents will be discouraged from entering the garment thereby reducing the odds of gunplay in that area.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Sunday Surprise

Sunday Surprise

I turned on the TV

early one morning

A man came on

Moaning and groaning -

“I need your help

send me your money.

I want to build a world

made of milk and honey.”

How to tell if he

meant what he said?

I blinked my eyes

and shook my head.

Wouldn’t you know

he was on again

and before you could pray,

he’d taken me in.

He said, “Peace & love

are a rotten lie.

Follow me or else

your soul will die.

And anyway,

I need a new kitchen.

So send your money

my palms are itchin’.”

I was thinkin’ twice

about his line

then he said something

to change my mind.

He explained about art

‘cause it’s all evil

showed me what it’s done

to all the people.

He said, “look at the world.

It’s all wrong.

I’ve got a plan

to make it strong.”

He told me to avoid

Muslims, atheists, & Jews.

He said God don’t grant

the right to choose.

He wrote a book,

40 dollars a print,

it tells you what

the bible really meant.

It tells about earth

it tells about heaven

it tells you to vote for him

in the next election.

He told me to fear,

told me not to talk,

told me that God almighty

was watching my clock.

I put down my beer

I was getting scared

I just about jumped

right out of my chair.

Well, I went out

bought his book

showed him my soul

so that he could look.

He asked me to give

until I was broke

then he ran off to live

with the Holy Ghost

Friday, March 1, 2024

My Underwears

My Underwears


Hi, My name is Smike Mansmell and I want to share My Underwears with you.

I became a severe crackhead until I found God who refused to provide me with more crack unless I obtained the moral imperative that would enable me to coerce people better than myself to live within the confines of my personal belief system. God taught me how to lie to a bank to gain the funds which enabled me to open a manufacturing facility to mass produce a quality and much needed product I call My Underwears.

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