#long joke

[novicecomics-personal]

On a date with the local hot goth girl. We sip our drinks as I nervously ask, "So, uh, what's your body count?"

She immediately lectures me on the patriarchal standards that are enforced on society as a whole to mock and demean people with "body counts," making them look like disgusting sinners. She then says 3.

"Oh that's..." my thoughts tumble gracelessly from my mouth like the dribbling of my drink as I realize there's no good way to end this sentence, "not much?"

"Not much?" she mimics.

"... or it's a lot. I guess the average is like zero so..." Whatever babbling I spew is glossed over as she studies me, sizing me up to figure out how big the coffin will be to fit me. My hot goth date takes me to her Adam's Family styled home and proceeds to bang my brains out in her custom made coffin bed.

Afterwards we go on a midnight stroll through the creepy forest behind the cemetery next door and she murders me. My body is pushed into a small crater she's carved out with three other bodies inside.

I guess it can be hard keeping track unless you can do a headcount.

[drarreckyninja]

Jim: Every time I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke. Chekov: Okay, but what is updog? Nyota: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish. Scotty: Nay, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released. Spock: Incorrect, Mister Scott. You are thinking of an update. Perhaps Jim is thinking of a city in Sweden? Sulu: Nah, that’s Uppsala. Updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter. Carol: No, that’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs. Bones: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current. Nyota: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway. Chekov, beyond confused: What’s a henvay?? Jim, cracking up: Oh, about five pounds.

[dragoncatdraws]

There were once two friends who shared very lofty dreams- one loved everything about ghosts and magic and wished to be a professional psychic. The other wanted to be the world’s greatest chef. Knowing that their paths would be a lot of difficult work, they made a pact to never take advantage of each other while working towards their dreams. The years went by and they both worked hard on their individual passions while remaining close.

The chef had not learned much about cooking growing up and was struggling to catch up to people who had been raised for it, and the psychic was having a hard time finding believers. Still, they always had each other.

There came a particularly difficult day for the psychic when they hadn’t seen a customer for months. “I’m a mess, ” They sobbed over the phone to their chef friend. “I’m starting to doubt if I even have power. In fact, I’m feeling so down I might close the shop.”

“I know exactly what to do,” said the chef “You need to come over right away.”

The psychic headed straight to the chef’s house, hoping that their oldest friend could provide some unique comfort.

When the psychic opened the chef’s door, however, a bowl of beaten eggs was immediately dumped onto them.

“I’m sorry,” the chef cried. “I broke our pact. I had no choice, I’ve been struggling too!”

“But why did you do this?” Shouted the psychic. “How does it even help you?”

“Once again, I’m sorry,” said the chef. “But I’ve been trying to make the perfect omelette for months, and the recipe is very clear- it won’t be just right unless you cook it on a Low Medium.”

[zappablegiraffe]

BIRBS

A parrot, a raven, and a toucan sat on a branch together one day.

The toucan, being an exotic bird, was eating mangoes.

The raven, being a raven, was cawing incessantly.

And of course, the parrot, being a parrot, was mocking the raven, copying its caws almost perfectly.

After 15 minutes, the raven grew tired, and ceased cawing.

The parrot, however, being a particularly insane parrot, continued to caw just as the raven had.

This continued for another hour, before the toucan, quite aggravated at his inability to eat his mangoes in peace, whipped about, and with his huge beak, snatched the parrot up, and threw it to the ground.

The toucan flew down, landing above the parrot, and leaned down, ever so slowly in the face of the parrot, and whispered just four words.

Quote the raven nevermore.

[this-goat-is-on-fire]

A new clown-themed Bed and Breakfast establishment opens up, called Hillarity Inn.

It goes well, becomes quite popular, especially amongst the clown scene for a good place to meet up, swap jokes and practice with each other.

One day, there's a practice with some new pirotechnics, and it accidentally sets on fire the Inn's outdoor undercover picnic area.

All the clowns rush in to put the fire out.

Hillarity Inn sues.

[tf2-saturday-morning]

Scout: Why are WE the ones who are responsible if Sniper gets eaten by cannibals?

Ms. Pauling: Scout. It says very clearly that teammates are not allowed to let FATAL injury come to one of you. Eating someone is one of those fatal injuries.

(Protests arises)

Ms. Pauling: Look, I already relayed this to the administrator, and she said, and I quote, 'It's not my fault if Sniper is delicious.'

[siriuslyweirdfren]

Did you hear about the guy who ran a game show in an elevator? He'd ask a question on every floor, and you'd have until the door closed to answer. Well, there was this one guy, whose technique was just always to say the same thing, to every question, and for at least one question, he said, it was bound to be right. So this guy answers every question the host asks with "twenty-three." Surprisingly, he did end up getting a question right with that answer, but boy, was it wrong on so many levels.

[zevveli]

Have you ever heard the story of the Gloop-maker?

So once there was this guy, finished high school and had no idea what to do with his life, so he sat around for a year before deciding he wanted to be a chef. So he goes out to all the restaurants in his hometown, but the story is all the same, since he has no experience as a chef they can't use him. Finally one of the chefs points out "You know, if you join the U.S. Military they'll train you to do something." So the guy runs off to the Navy recruiter: "I want to join the Navy!" "Great, do you have any special skills?" "No, but I've always wanted to be a chef." "Well we don't need any chefs, we need sailors do you want to be a sailor?" "No I don't want to be a sailor, I want to be a chef!" So he leaves and goes to the Air Force recruiter. Same thing. "I want to join the Air Force!" "Great, do you have any special skills?" "No, but I've always wanted to be a chef." "Well we don't need any chefs, we need pilots do you want to be a pilot?" "No I don't want to be a pilot, I want to be a chef!" So he leaves and goes to the Marine Recruiter, same thing. "I want to join the Marine Corps!" "Great, do you have any special skills?" "No, but I've always wanted to be a chef." "Well we don't need any chefs, we need marines do you want to be a marine?" "No I don't want to be a marine, I want to be a chef!" So he leaves and goes to the Army recruiter. But as he's going he realizes that shit, since he has no special skills it'll be the same. So he walks in. "I want to join the Army!" "Great! Do you have any special skills?" "Yes, I'm a...uh...a gloop-maker." The recruiter looks at him. "A Gloop-maker, what the hell's a gloop-maker?" "A person who makes gloops of course." "Well I figured that, but what's a gloop?" The guy just laughs at the recruiter. "What's a gloop? Hahaha." The recruiter shrugs and writes it down. "Well, I don't think we need a gloop-maker, anything you've ever wanted to learn?" "Well I've always wanted to be a chef." "Okay! I can get you into the culinary corps once you get through basic." So the guy goes through basic, gets in and starts learning to be a chef. Meanwhile off in the depths of the pentagon some pencil pusher is going through recruitment papers and gets to our guy's paper and is putting in the information and comes across the entry "Occupation: Gloop-maker." So he gets up and goes to his supervisor. "Sir." "What is it?" "What's a gloop-maker" "A what?" "A Gloop-maker, I got this guy who just got through basic in Culinary who's a gloop-maker and I want to know what that is." "Well, it's a person who makes gloops idiot, don't they teach you anything?" "Well, I figured that sir, but what the hell is a gloop?" The pencil pusher's superior thinks for a moment, realizes he doesn't know either, but sure as hell won't admit it. "Then go over to supply and requisition a gloop dammit!" So the guy runs over to supply and requisitions a gloop, the clerk looks at him. "You want a what?" "A gloop." "Why do you want a gloop?" "Well I've got a gloop-maker who just completed basic, but I've got no idea what a gloop is, so I was told to requisition a gloop." The clerk shrugs and goes to his inventory sheet, he spends the next five hours scanning through his list before realizing there aren't any in stock so he goes to the quartermaster. "Sir, we don't have any gloops in stock." The quartermaster looks up at him. "Excuse me?" "We don't have any gloops in stock." "What the hell are you talking about?" "Well someone from personnel came by and requisitioned a gloop we don't have any." "Why the hell would personnel need a gloop?" "He said they just recruited a gloop-maker but didn't know what one was so he came to get one to know what it was." The quartermaster slams his hands on the table. "WE HAVE A GLOOP-MAKER BUT WE DON'T HAVE ANY GLOOPS! WHY THE HELL DON'T WE HAVE ANY GLOOPS IF WE HAVE A GLOOP-MAKER? GET ME HIS FILE NOW!" No sooner did he get the file then he ran to the general's office. "Sir! We have a problem." "What's the problem." "We're out of gloops sir." "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE ARE OUT OF GLOOPS! WE ARE WAR WHY ARE WE OUT OF GLOOPS?" "I was wondering that myself sir, but we have a gloop-maker over at..." "I DON'T CARE WHERE HE IS GET HIM TO ABEDEEN YESTERDAY! I NEED TO INFORM THE PRESIDENT IMMEDIATELY!" The general quickly rushes off to the White-house. "Mr. President, we have a problem. We're out of gloops." The president goes white in the face and sits down in shock. "We're out of gloops! This is an issue of national security! How can we be out of gloops?" "Don't worry mister president we have a gloop-maker, we're getting him to Aberdeen right now." "Good! I don't care the cost or time, you get me a gloop!" "Yes sir!"

So our poor bastard of a hero is sitting in the kitchen peeling potatoes as happy as can be when a group of brass show up. "We understand you are a gloop-maker." The guy panics. "Um...yes..." "Come with us to Aberdeen, we need you to make us a gloop." Meanwhile he's thinking (SHIT SHIT SHIT! They're gonna realize I lied! I'm going to get court marshalled and my life is over!) But he steel's himself. "It requires some rare and expensive materials." "Like what?" "Moon rocks! Ground to Dust from the Dark Side of the Moon!" So the government puts several Trillion Dollars into NASA to go up and get the rocks, grinding them into dust. Meanwhile the guy happily continues in his kitchen. The men return to our hero. "CORPORAL!" The guy looks up. "Um, I'm just enlisted." "Not anymore you've been promoted, we got your rocks. Can you make us a gloop?" "No sir, I still need....uh...heavy water! From the Marinas Trench! At least a gallon, and it HAS to be pure!" (They've got to say no this is impossible!) "Don't worry Corporal, we'll get you your water." So Trillions is poured into NOAA to make a vehicle to go down and suck out water and filter out the stuff that doesn't contain Deuterium. Meanwhile the guy is dealing with his kitchen as well as the now required Officer training. The brass eventually returns. "SERGEANT!" "Sir, I'm a corporal." "Not anymore you've been promoted, we have your water, can you make us our gloop?" "No sir, I need...a...uh...diamond. Clear, flawless, cut, 54 Karats!" (There's no way it exists.) "We'll get you your diamond, just wait." So America goes to war with South Africa, Trillions are spent, millions of lives are lost, but finally the brass gets the diamond. Meanwhile our guy tries not to re-up but finds himself locked in to his commission. Finally the brass returns. "Master Sergeant." "Just Sergeant sir." "Not anymore, you've been promoted. We have your diamond. Make us our gloop." So the guy gets sent to Aberdeen, and for three months he's locked in a secure facility with several key scientists. Finally he comes out and salutes the general. "Tell the president, his gloop is ready."

Two days later our gloop-maker is on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. Across from his is the President, Top state officials, Congress, and the entirety of the brass. He salutes, and pulls back a tarp revealing a mid-sized box about 5 meters by 5 meters with a hole in the top. A crane picks it up and swings it out over the side of ship. With one more salute the crane releases the box which falls into the water and slowly sinks down.

GLOOP

GLOOP

GLOOP

Silence reigns on the ship for five minutes before the President speaks. "I want 5 hundred more!"