Chatlog Fun: Volume Eleven

Tom CashChatlog Fun, HumorLeave a Comment

I APPOLOGIZE FOR THE HORRIBLE MENTAL IMAGE
Rosanne Barr

Dan was all up in that shit.

Me: the men’s room smells like a public toilet at the beach in August
C.B.: NICE
Me: my office smells like many things, depending on where you are
Me: my cubical, for example, smells like a rusty drywall bracket dipped in honey and shoved into Roseanne Barr’s vagina


BALLIN’

blong
C.B.: i got bling bling on my ding ding
Me: makes me wanna sing sing
Me: actualy, dong bling is a pretty funny idea
Me: and the types of people impressed by that sort of thing would eat it up
C.B.: we can call is blong
Me: we could be rich
C.B.: hell yeah
C.B.: like a necklace that fits around the base of your dong
C.B.: that would be sweet
C.B.: would say something like “BALLIN” in diamonds
Me: you know, no matter how ridiculous that is, I KNOW people would buy it


I SEEM TO HAVE ALWAYS BEEN OBSESSED WITH THIS COMMERCIAL
Me: What always cracked me up about those commercials was that it required total suspension of disbelief
Me: You were expected to believe that some kid was walking around with an open jar of peanut butter
C.B.: haha yeah
C.B.: on the city block corner with a jar of open peanut butter
C.B.: and some other guy apparently is walking with an open candy bar, holding it down like a knife so he can stab it into the peanut butter
Me: hahah
Me: And the total inability of either party to take responisbily cracked me up
Me: You got chocolate in my peanut butter!
Me: No, you got peanut butter in my chocolate!
C.B.: it’s a statement about racism
Me: Like the conversation wouldn’t have immediately escalated to, “What the fuck are you walking around with an open jar of peanut butter for?”
C.B.: hahah
Me: I can only see a situation like that turning to an exchange of blows


SOMETHING SOMETHING RICKI LAKE
Hair Club for Men

He’s also a member.

Me: Ronald Rogaine, inventor of the miracle hair regrowth formula; founded Ye Haire Club for Gentlemen in 1803
C.B.: In 1950 he was arrested when it was discovered that he was removing the leg bones of dead nazi solders and surgically implanting tufts of hair at the base of the torso; making some sort of undead nazi hair crawlers.
Me: He was never convicted, you have no proof
C.B.: i don’t need proof when i have faith
Me: I don’t need faith when I have an arsenal in my basement
C.B.: i don’t need an Arsenio in my basement when i have a Montel in the kitchen
Me: Just remember to walk your Sally Jessie before you go out, or you’ll have a mess when you get home


WADDUP MUH SWAMI?
swami

This isn’t racist at all!

C.B.: i’m hung like a nun with a stun gun
Me: ain’t no nun’s up in this bitch
Me: i smacked the ho with my p-unit
C.B.: thats P-DAMN, swami
C.B.: i have a vision of the future where gangsters and thugs call each other swami instead of dog, or g

About the Author

Tom Cash

Hi! I’m Tom. I am on a journey of constant self-improvement, and I’m thankful that you’ve chosen to join me. I’d love to hear from you.