Archive for March, 2009

5 A Day Food Hell

Posted by Tiggy on March 16th, 2009

Please don't eat us.Why do healthy foods taste like cack? I’m sorry, but a weedy carrot is no substitute for a moist chocolate cake dripping with cream and hot silky fudge. I know which one makes me feel moist just thinking about it.

I’ve tried to follow a healthy diet, but there are some foods I cannot get past my gullet…

Brown Anything
“Substitute regular pasta and rice with the wholemeal variety!” squeaks the skinny fitness guru on TV. “It will make your heart and rectum happy!”
Have you eaten wholemeal pasta? It puts the ‘rough’ into roughage, that’s for sure! Rather than sucking up silky strings of spaghetti, the wholemeal version feels like your lips are being sandblasted. It has a crunch that should not be there. It’s brown.

I travelled the length and breadth of Italy and didn’t see a single shred of brown pasta anywhere. I guess the Mafia destroyed the Italian wholemeal industry after a ‘healthy’ lasagna made a Don a bit too regular. Well done, chaps!

Brown rice is even worse. Health nut vegans coming to dinner? Out of brown rice? Simply get your hamster to shred a cardboard box and serve the chewy shards with tofu. Your pasty party guests never notice the difference!

Raw Food
My granny swore by raw food during World War II. Having spent her rations on silk stockings and liquor, she often had nothing left for cooking fuel. So she would ‘dig for victory’ and unearth a few turnips to chew on while the Luftwaffe bombed seven bells out of her. That was the wartime spirit! And everyone was as fit as an ox! Not like kids today, mutter, mutter, etc.

Granny was wrong. Most people from World War II are now shriveled, white-haired and have false teeth (probably from all that raw turnip chewing). The epitome of health and vitality? I think not!

Bacteria
Seen those TV adverts for probiotic yogurt? The advert seems to think that having billions of crawling bacteria in your pudding is a good thing.
This is what bacteria look like:

Probiotic goodness.

Can you imagine that swimming around your yogurt pot?

I’d like to know what makes these wiggly critters so good for me. Would they make me taller? Whiten my teeth? Put more smart thoughts in my brain? I doubt it. I don’t know about you but I don’t want any bacteria in my body, thank you very much.

Be everyone's friend at the movie theatre with a durian!Smells Funny
I should eat more green vegetables. But they smell funny. That tempting clump of broccoli smells good at the supermarket, but as soon as I get it home it starts to give off a strange cabbagey aroma. Boiling it turns the aroma into a toxic stink. Dinner guests move outside and eyes begin to water. Suddenly a Chinese take-out is looking favourable.

Did you know the world’s stinkiest fruit is the durian? Imagine a main sewer blockage on a hot day and you’re about there. In many Asian countries you can’t take a durian for a ride on a bus or to a movie because they are banned from many public places (sadly, this ban does not extend to sweaty tourists).

If you can get over the rotting flesh smell, the durian is the sweetest and most delicious fruit ever tasted. Apparently. Next dinner party, I’ll give it a try. It might mask the smell of broccoli.

I feel quite queasy now. I wonder though – maybe there is sales potential in the eco-nut health market for brown rice and broccoli yogurt…?

The Dreaded Office Greetings Card

Posted by Tiggy on March 11th, 2009

Greetings cards - say what you mean.You’re sat at your office desk, minding your business and pretending to work when the boss shoves a greetings card in your face. Some office monkey you don’t give a crap about is leaving/having a baby/had the sense to clear off and get another job. And now the whole damn company has to sign a tacky greetings card. By the time the card reaches you, it is already full of witty and clever remarks.

Stuck for something to write? Here’s a few ideas.

Get well soon! Honest!

Good luck with the op! I’m sure the surgeon has extracted stranger things from “up there”.

If you die, can I have your desk? No, only kidding! But assuming the worst happens, can I have it? Only kidding! Although you never know.
Let me know about the desk.

You’re so brave! May you endure the searing pain with dignity, and I hope the very long road to recovery will be worth the obvious distress it will bring to you and your family.

Don’t
Eat
Anything
Too
Hot while you’re recuperating!

Do
Ingest
Every medication you doctor gives you!

Please
Advise
If
Nothing works and you’ll be off work for longer!

Don’t
Be
Long-
Our
Office
Doesn’t feel the same without you!

Look on the bright side mate! That morphine drip will be a lot stronger than that other “stuff” you like to put up your nose, eh?!

You're Leaving? Oh, boo frikkin' hoo.

Now they’ll never know who was stealing all the pens! And they never missed that photocopier. Nice one, dude!

Good luck with your new “career” – when I see a nicely sewn mail bag I’ll think of you.

Are you going to masturbate over the boss’s desk like you said you would? Oh go on, it’s your last day after all!

Congrats on your new career in “customer relationship management”!
Don’t forget this customer likes large fries with his Value Meal.

The washroom won’t smell the same without you! I’ll miss you like you missed the bowl, Lol!
To be honest, that was pretty disgusting.

A baby! Ewww.

Can’t quite imagine someone having sex with you, but well done anyway.

Congratulations! What colour is it?

Here’s to many years of sleepless nights and vomit! Really, it only gets worse. You may regret this.

Yeah, it’s a baby. What a miracle. Special bundle of joy etc.
I know what one looks like, so don’t junk up my e-mail with baby pictures.

I’m so happy for you! As you watched that bloody, mucus-covered being spurt forth from your wife’s hideously stretched vagina, it must have felt like the most special day ever. Isn’t childbirth a miracle?

Does it look like you? Or does it look like the father? Only kidding! Although Jeff in Accounts mentioned something about… anyway, congratulations! I think.

Congratulations on your little miracle! I can’t have children, so I’ll never experience the joy of that first smile. Some people have all the luck! And some of us will face our old age forgotten and alone. Some couples breed like rabbits, while us barren rejects are left to suffer having baby pictures shoved in our faces and hearing the same frigging cute anecdotes again and again in a torturous reminder of how useless we are. Bastards.

Every salesman's wet dream.

I’m so excited for you! It must be the best thing that’s ever happened to you! It’s probably the best day of your life, right? I guess that’s kinda sad in a way. It’s only a sales award after all.

OMG dude, whose cock did you have to suck to get that award?!?!?!
Seriously, let me know.

God bless you! An angel from heaven must have been on your shoulder when you made that winning sale. And Jesus himself can guide you to strive for more! Have you felt Jesus’ love lately? I’ll be round your office in a while to share some exciting news about God’s big plan for you! See you soon!

I know what you did to get that award, you filthy pervert. I was hiding under your desk with my camera phone.
Don’t believe me? Search “Sock Puppet Anal Domination” on YouTube.

Hey Dave, well done! I’m so happy for you. I always knew you were the best. That cute smile, those big blue eyes… you are a special guy. I’ve been thinking about you a lot.
I’ll swing by your office after work, maybe we can get to know each other a little better?
XXX
John

Now when that office card drops on your desk, you’ll never be stuck for a comment again!

(Disclaimer: Employment termination may result from using these comments. Do not use.)

Super Tiggy

Posted by Tiggy on March 2nd, 2009

Bah bah bah! Wonder Womaaan!!The other night I was tottering through the snow to the bar when I was accosted by a man on a street corner. This happens a lot, but tonight the request was different.

“You may think I’m crazy…” began the middle-aged guy shivering in his plaid shirt,”But can you do me a favour?”

Before I had chance to kick him in the nuts, he pushed $10 into my hands. $10? I’m worth more than that, buddy.

“Please can you go to the comic store and buy me the Obama Spider Man comic? There’s a limit of one per customer, but I need two for my twin boys…”
Seeing the frosty tears in the poor fella’s eyes I accepted his challenge. Summoning all my acting skills I innocently wandered into the comic book store to purchase the precious comic.

It was my first time in a comic book store. It was a cavern of endless paperback delights, Spider-Man figurines and a feeling that I’d just stepped into another world. And do you know, the guy on the counter just looked like the comic book store guy in The Simpsons. Maybe it’s compulsory.

Then I saw her. She stared back at me from the cover of a comic with a steely face and shiny tiara. My childhood hero. WONDER WOMAN! BA BA BA BA BAABAAA! Suddenly I was five years old again. Wonder Woman KICKED ASS!

When I was five I was convinced I was a superhero. I used to perform daring stunts to prove it. I was Super Tiggy!

Impervious to all dangers. Except kids from the trailer park.- I had amazing jumping powers. I leapt from a garage roof to prove to my buddies I was just like Wonder Woman. I didn’t break my legs, so it must be true.

- I had an invisible space ship. Of course my friends couldn’t see it, it was frigging invisible!

- Peas would magically disappear from my plate using my powers of… feeding them to the dog. My dog could always sense when it was time for his pea-feeding mission, which I put down to my animal telepathy superpowers.

- I could see into the future. I always knew when I was about to get a kicking by the kids from the trailer park. Sadly, my super strength let me down once I was lying on the ground bleeding. Maybe those kids were from Krypton Trailer Park.

Annoyingly, our neighbourhood was never threatened by stray nuclear missiles or three-headed aliens, so my superpowers went untested. I spent most of my time saving drowning bees from the paddling pool, patrolling the streets on my SuperTrike and getting beaten up by my foes from the trailer park. All in a day’s work for Super Tiggy…

“Madam, can I help you? Excuse me, madam, are you looking for something?” barked the comic book store owner.
“Umm… I need a Spider Man Obama comic… It’s for…” I stumbled.
Think, Super Tiggy, think! He’ll realize you are a fraud. Don’t blow it! Don’t let the kids down!

“It’s… four degrees below outside. Bloody freezing!”
“Not a night to be outside, madam. That will be six dollars please…”

Mission accomplished!
BA BA BA BA BAABAAA! It’s Super Tiggy!