Hey boo, it’s me.
Yeah, that’s right. You remember me.
I got those apple-bottom jeans and pumpkin-bottom wife-beaters, with that ruby, pinky ring, and a forest of pig fur cascading over the top of my tightly stretched, sleeveless shirt.
You can’t stop your eyes from checking out my velour track suit with the Arby’s logo covering the back, the Arby’s motto just above my fly, “We Got the Meats,” and on my big’ol, honking man-butt it says, “Here come the Meat Sweats.”
Aw hey, come back mama. I didn’t mean to take your simmer to a boil so quickly, but you know I can’t help it babe. When my big sausage arms reach out for a hug, you know I’m going to make you all warm and oily.
That’s right baby, yeah. Come on back. Here, settle down. Have a sit right here. What? That chair is broken? Oh that’s my bad baby. I totally forgot. I have some crabby chipmunks that do NOT like early-century, Shaker furniture. Those little shits keep gnawing at the wood until it represents the spartan modernism of Frank Lloyd Wright. So gouche.
Hey boo. I said hey baby-boo.
You know I got a surprise for you.
You know how your man’s been distracted lately? Checking his Instagram all night? Maybe messaging some little, nympho freak?
Yeah? You do?
Guess what sugar plum…
Your man is messaging us, the ace, investigative & smartously satirical news staff at The Vidalia News Recorder, delivering hard-hitting commentary with a side of childish tomfoolery all wrapped up in a semi-legitimate fake news l’affaire!
Yes baby-girl…
Yes baby-girl… we are your man’s Thirst Trap.
We got everything he needs
Dick jokes
Penis jokes
Boob jokes
Asshole jokes
Foreign policy jokes
Ridiculous jokes
Mediocre jokes
Serious jokes
Jokes so ineffable we still can’t prove anyone laughs at them
Jokes so effable we know no one laughs at them
Dirty sex jokes
Sex jokes so clean God would approve
Disease free sex jokes
Alienatingly Protestant sex jokes
We got jokes about brain worms named Gandalf and bowling jokes about ovaries
We will do anything for jokes, but we won’t joke about that, no no… no we woooont joke about that.
You know what we don’t have? Jokes about your man leaving us, ’cause that ain’t ever happening, okay boo?
Face it… Your man belongs to us now.
Your skinny ass may be fun to look at but it don’t make him laugh like jokes about the historical role that foam puppeteering played in the power dynamics and economic struggles of Pre-Columbian, Dutch Privateering vessels, specifically in the West Indies. That shit was hilarious. Like, it was dumb of course, but also, like, I don’t know, nuanced maybe? Like the joke has multiple layers, y’know? Boobs was the first layer obviously, then shit and piss, but then it got cerebral like when we accidentally swapped “West” for “East” Indies and then we had to research a completely different history of events to fit in the minimum, comedic threshold of puppet fart jokes aboard wooden maritime vessels before global industrialization. Like, how do morally loose, foam puppets fart anyway??? Oh God! It genuinely boggles the mind while licking it.
You can still play with your man when we’re not using him. Just make sure you return him in one piece, okay Becky?
So sit back because you’re going to see a lot more of us while we causing drama… one foam-puppet fart joke at a time.
Vidalia News Recorder 