So... I got bored and wrote haikus... about board games.

Uh... Enjoy?

Life is a tower,
blocks pulled one by one.
Someone shouts, "Jenga!"

Almighty dollar.
shoes, dogs, boats... rat race!  Not me...
I got free parking.

Greedy hippos eat.
Monstrous teeth gnashing, chomping.
Hey, that's my marble!

Cone shaped men, round heads,

Is FunnyorDie gay? What's up with the top rated videos on this site? Musicals, half-naked men, completely naked men, completely naked men masturbating, and Paris fucking Hilton have seen more hits than Whitney Houston's crack pipe (too soon?). 

Maybe it's the same reason that all of the Mckay-Ferrell box office hits have homo-themes: Gay is funny. Not the "Hey faggot, you suck!" funny, but men dropping the phobia (along with their pants) and joking around with expectations (as well as their dicks).

I mean, who doesn't love a good dick...joke? I for one am a big fan of both. So keep 'em coming funnyordie.

--

Black_Guy

I love babies. I hope to breed one day myself. Hence, when a pregnant woman sits down next to me on the bus, I say, “Ooooh, when are you due?”

And the woman goes, “Oh, I’m not pregnant.”

Shit. I just called her fat. I have been mistaken for pregnant before, and it ain’t a good feeling [I was 12 at the time, so I don’t understand why the lady at the mall advised I buy extra links for my new watch to "compensate for the bloating wrist as the baby grows" inside me. Or do I judge too harshly? Maybe it was my fault, for I must have looked the spitting image of a child bride in my tear-away Adidas windpants and camouflage Bubba Gump T-shirt. That get-up sure says BP to me! (BP = Baby Prostitute)].

But then, like the hand of God coming down from the clouds to scoop me from awkwardness, the woman continues, “Nah, I’m not pregnant. This is my tumor.”

And she lifts her shirt, and it looks like there is a lumpy boulder baby living under her belly skin.

Note, I say I was saved from awkwardness because in my mind:

Not really pregnant, actually fat > Not really pregnant, actually tumor.

The former is more offensive because girls are cool about mistaking a fetus mound for a tumor the size of my head (or your head!), but mix-up a little excess fat for the supposed fetus mound? HOW DARE WE! KINDLY take your hand off my leftover babyweight from my previous baby, which settles in such a way that it gives the illusion of new baby—there are no babies to be found here!

Man, talk about needing an abortion. Touchy subject, I’m well aware. I watch the news, you know. Some people are all like, “Well I only think it’s OK to get it aborted if the woman was raped.”

What about tumor babies? The lady on the bus sure as hell didn’t want that thing. She could have been on her merry way home from work,  paused a little too long in that dark alley -- long enough for that giant tumor in a trenchcoat to come up behind her and rape her -- and now, she can't help being with child.

So cut her some slack. Next time you see a pregnant woman, ask her, “Oooh, when’s the excision?"

-Jenny

[BGH]

I wanted to take this opportunity to speak to FunnyOrDie about a blight on our community.  There is a substance out on the streets that is taking college campuses by storm, that is now all the rage among hip college students.  A recent study shows that 9 out of 10 people between the ages of 18 and 24 have put this white devil-drug into their systems at least once, and 2 out of 5 consider themselves "regular users."

I am of course, talking about tofu.

First, I'd like to address the confusion products like tofurkey and vegetariantestines cause.  I, like many others, go to the local *insert local grocery store* looking for a bag of intestines to boil and eat plain (they're like jerky!), only to be fooled by the "Vegetarian Intestines" for sale there.  I think to myself "Oh, vegetarian intestines!  I know that vegetarians like to keep their intestines SUPER clean, so a vegetarian's intestines must be high quality indeed!"

But Nay!  Not only are the intestines not from a vegetarian, not from a human, but they're not even made of real ANIMAL intestines!  They're made of tofu, the devil's candy!  That's false advertising, plain and simple.  Can't a man buy a bag of intestines ripped from the belly of an unsuspecting vegetarian without getting ripped off and fed curdled soy?

This injustice will not stand!

I am, as we speak, writing my congressman (I don't know his name or address, so I'm simply addressing it to "my congressman."  God bless the postal system) demanding that such products be taken off of the shelf, or at least correctly labeled "FOR vegetarians" so that normal people don't purchase and eat that poisonous, gelatinous goop.

Did I say poisonous?  Well I meant it!  Recent studies

have linked tofu with that "old-people forgetting things" disease.  I don't remember what it's called; probably because I ate tofu!*

Forget where your keys are?  Try eating real deli meat.  Keep missing appointments because they just "slipped your mind"?  They probably slipped on all the tofu you've been choking down.  Can't even remember your own name?  This might take drastic measures...  try having a steak.

In addition, men who eat tofu are committing sperm genocide! Hey, vegetarians, instead of eating tofu, why not just have someone kick you in the testicles a few times?  At least you'll actually remember it later.

I am starting a campaign of public service announcements against tofu.  The slogan will be "Have a heart.  It's delicious, and you'll remember eating it.  Also, if you are male you will be able to impregnate women."

The slogan's a work in progress.

I know, this will cause a stir among vegetarians, vegans, and several other varieties of skinny people, but I feel this issue must be addressed!

Meat!

-Fat Dude

*I never actually ate tofu.  That was for dramatic effect.

[BGH]

You got me this time fat girl. You cornered me in the bar and sat on my heart. I let my guard down and you waltzed right into my biggest mistake.  You think I don’t see you there with your chicken tenders. And those dipping sauces. Oh, those sauces! You know how to eat, baby. Oh yeah, that’s all you know how to do, but you do it so well. Which makes me think you’re probably pretty good with your mouth. Mmmhmmm!

I get separated from the sobers and that’s when you pounce. Meow. An obese tigress on the hunt. You tell me you know the way and I believe you, because I don’t find you threatening or attractive. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, because you’re in charge. “No, no, come on, they’re waiting for us back at my place,” you chortle . And I’m drunk enough not to remember my own name, so I believe your big lies. The next thing I know, a tidal wave of sexy curves collapses on me all at once and all I can think of is... Flubber. Robin Williams. I love that movie. But I love your moves even more. Especially when you get off my hip. Ouch.

I wear you like a blanket. Made of thick fleece. A love blanket, but only in winter, because in summer it’s way too hot to use. And you loves it, fat girl, you crave it. Almost as much as you love catching those last flecks of parmesan at the corners of your mouth on Italian buffet night. Cheesy satisfaction. Not quite, but almost as good.

And we pound each other like music. Or a bass drum. Like a fist caught in an elephant’s asshole. Sweet, sweet, heavy music. I blow chunks, but you eat my cookies and keep going. We’ve come this far. And you’re still hungry. I peed on your nightstand. "No biggie," you snarl. I’ve thrown you down the fuck hill and nothing can stop your roll.

The next morning I wake up crying in your chubby mustache. You have dimples where you shouldn’t. I don’t scream, because I couldn’t stop your charge. I surrender and retreat. The only casualty, my pants, trapped beneath your thigh. And I run. I run so fast, and so hard until I sweat out the memory of it all. And I don’t look back. Cause I never want to be fat.

I won't remember this,

-Ben George
[BGH]

I've noticed I've been getting a bit of attention from the fans of Black Guy and Fat Dude. Some believe I'm flabby yet cute, others claim I'm blatently flamboyant yet undeniably funny. I am writing to tell you that yes, I am all these things and no amount of your flattery/critiques will cause me to change. I am too proud/arrogant to listen/read your obvious/subtle cries/shouts. I can ill afford to/hardly wait for more of your comments/derisions when our next video/masterpiece premieres/explodes on your face.

***Please read the / as (slash), it just sounds better.

Forever Yours/Fuck Off,

Black Guy