A Lesson In Dutch Pronunciation

My Brother….

Posted this on Facebook…

With this caption….

Ha ha ha! Clever!

Then this happened:

This was just a play on words, right?

A joke you know…

Yes?

Hello?!

Oh really…uh huh…yes…yes…interesting…zzzzzzz…..

This still works, right? Is it still funny?

Huh, Dutch boy?

Oh…good call!

The Ice Cube – A Story In One Act

The Boy went to the refrigerator and got himself a can of soda. Upon feeling the can he determined it wasn’t quite cold enough to really be enjoyed to it’s fullest potential. This thought actually did not run through the Boy’s brain waves.

What thought actually ran through the Boy’s brain waves was, “Huh, this can of soda isn’t very cold. Weird.”

So the Boy opened the freezer door and gorilla-handed some ice from the ice bin. One of the ice cubes, as ice cubes often do when being gorilla-handed, fell to the floor. The Boy, as boys often do, kicked the ice cube under the refrigerator.

And this is where our story begins:

“Great, great! Just great!” said the Ice Cube. “I really wanted to be a part of that soda. That was my life’s dream ever since being created in the great-and-all-powerful rubber ice cube tray. Now look at me, doomed to melt under the refrigerator…into a puddle…and out of existence…never to feel the bubbles of that sweet, sweet carbonation.”

The Ice Cube started to cry, but quickly realized that crying made him melt faster. So he stopped and whimpered instead.

Shortly thereafter, along came a Cockroach. The Cockroach looked at the Ice Cube. The Ice Cube looked at the Cockroach.

“What are you doing under the refrigerator?” asked the Cockroach.

“Well,” began the Ice Cube. “A stupid Boy dropped me. He was suppose to put me in his sweet, sweet carbonated beverage, but instead I wound up kicked under the refrigerator. Now I’m going to melt out of existence!”

“Oh,” said the Cockroach unimpressed.

“Can you help me?” asked the Ice Cube.

“Nope,” said the Cockroach and he scampered away.

The Ice Cube sighed and shed one tiny tear and sat there miserably.

A few minutes later the Cockroach came back, but this time with another Cockroach.

The Ice Cube perked up a little bit and asked, “Did you bring a friend to help me?”

“No,” said the Cockroach. “We are both here to have sex in front of you.”

And they did.

After about five minutes or so of unbridled, untamed, unbelievably weird cockroach sex, they left.

The air stank of cockroach sex and the Ice Cube was alone again.

Another five minutes or so passed and the two Cockroaches returned. One of the Cockroaches was quite visibly pregnant, as it’s bulbous egg sack dangled from it’s abdomen.

“Oh my gosh,” said the Ice Cube. “That was quick pregnancy.”

“We don’t mess around,” said the Cockroaches in unison. Then the pregnant Cockroach gave birth to 34 darling, bouncing, cockroach babies.

“Momma!” cried the 34 darling, bouncing, cockroach babies. Then all 34 ran to the Ice Cube and began to suck it dry. Before the Ice Cube knew it, it shrank and shrank and shrank, until it was a mere tiniest of tiny water droplets.

The Ice Cube was no more.

Later that day the Boy made himself a ham, bologna, bacon, and peanut butter sandwich. One of the baby Cockroaches happened to get it’s self stuck in the layer of peanut butter that had been spread between the bread and the ham.

The Boy was unaware of the trapped baby Cockroach as he ate the sandwich with great gusto all the while dropping crumbs, and flinging spittle. The baby Cockroach decided however, before meeting his untimely death with the Boy’s digestive system, to lay one tiny cockroach poop pellet in the sandwich.

Moral of the Story:

Karma is a bitch, although sometimes it’s not bitchy enough.

~Fin