Sarcasm Font

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“There needs to be a sarcasm font,” Ross finally announced. He’d been standing over Horatio, waiting for him to stop working, but grew impatient.

Horatio looked up from his computer screen. “What?”

“There needs to be a font that’s universally understood to be sarcasm.”

“Right. Thanks for sharing,” said Horatio. He resumed his work.

“I posted a comment on Facebook and people blew up. They totally took me seriously.”

Horatio glared up at Ross. “I have no idea why anyone would ever take you seriously.”

“I know, right? People got really mad. A few even unfriended me,” explained Ross.

A sigh crossed Horatio’s lips.

“It was a joke about environmentalists. It was clever, too.”

“If I have a nickel for every environmental joke I knew…” said Horatio.

“They have no sense of humour.”

“Do ya think?”

Ross smacked Horatio on the shoulder. “That’s why I want a sarcasm font, so people know how funny I am.”

Horatio looked up at Ross. “I don’t know if that would help.”

“You’re right,” said Ross. “Some people are just clueless.”

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Organic Tattoos

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“So the other day I was at the health food store, right?”

Drew didn’t even turn around from his desk. There was only one person who started conversations that way.

Ethan didn’t wait for a response. “I see this girl with sleeve tattoos. I think to myself, why would you care so much about what you put into your body that you shop at the health food store, but not worry about the chemicals you jammed under your skin?”

It was a question that made Drew stop what he was doing and think. That was an unusual outcome of Ethan’s questions.

“Maybe they’re organic,” suggested Drew.

Ethan clapped his hands. “That’s exactly my point. These are the kinda people who research ingredients to make sure they’re organic, free trade, pesticide and cruelty free, but maybe tattoo ink is organic?” He stressed the word ‘maybe’.

It was at this moment Drew realized how annoying Ethan could be when he actually had a good question.

“I dunno. Ask somebody with tattoos,” Drew said.

“I did. I asked the girl with the sleeve tattoos. She shot me with pepper spray and I got banned from the store.”

“I woulda paid ten bucks to see that,” Drew thought out loud.

“It’s on Youtube. Someone caught the whole thing on video. Wanna see?” asked Ethan.

“Absolutely,” said Drew. Drew spun around and faced Ethan for the first time. There stood Ethan, his face bright red and tears flowing from his eyes.

“When did this happen to you?” asked Drew.

“Ten minutes ago.”

“Shouldn’t you go to the hospital or something?”

“Nah,” said Ethan. “The girl told me the pepper spray is organic, free trade, pesticide and cruelty free, so I’m good.”

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Window Into A Woman’s Soul

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Garrett burst in on his girlfriend and spun her around the room.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

“Peg, I’ve solved the greatest mystery of life. My new invention will transform relationships between men and women forever!”

Peg pushed herself away from Garrett and crossed her arms. “Really? How did you do that?”

“Three words: mood changing makeup.”

“Say what now?”

“Mood changing makeup. Women wear it on their face and the colour changes according to their mood. That way men automatically know how women feel. I call it ‘the window into a woman’s soul’. It’s brilliant, right?” proclaimed Garrett.

Peg sighed long and slow. She leaned against a desk. “Can you tell how I’m feeling right now?”

Garrett shrugged. “How would I know? You’re not wearing the makeup right now. Then again, your face just got real red.”

“Any idea what that means?”

Garrett took a minute to study her face. “I’ve got nothing.”

“That’s right,” said Peg. “That that’s all you’re gonna get.”

After the door slammed behind her, Garrett stood alone in the room. He fell into a nearby chair, stunned. “I have no idea what went wrong.”

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The Beautiful Game

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Gustav and Elisha sat watching the Euro Cup on TV. Elisha rolled her eyes, looked over and asked, “what do you think of this?”

“I love international soccer,” replied Gustav.

“Because it gives you something to do after watching paint dry?”

Gustav scowled. “It’s a way of celebrating nationalism without war or violence.”

“You may wanna remind English soccer fans of that,” said Elisha.

“You have a point.”

“Not to mention soccer’s the only way Germany can win anything. Or France.”

“That’s cold,” said Gustav.

Elisha smiled and shrugged. “Just speakin’ the truth.”

Gustav rolled his eyes. “Just like an arrogant American.”

“I’m Canadian,” said Elisha.

“Same difference. You haven’t won the World Cup either.”

Elisha’s eyes flared. “Yeah, but if you played soccer on ice with sticks and a puck, we’d dominate.”

“If that were true, it wouldn’t be called ‘the Beautiful Game’,” said Gustav.

“Beauty is clearly in the eye of the beholder,” scoffed Elisha.

“More people love soccer than hockey,” gloated Gustav.

“What can I say? People love actors.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“C’mon. Every time a soccer player is bumped they flop around like a fresh caught fish. Hockey players lose an arm, get it stitched back on and start the third period.”

Gustav looked suspiciously at Elisha. “Is that what you think of me? A fish?”

Elisha blushed. “You’re more of a man than most soccer players.”

A smile spread across Gustav’s face. “Just checking.”

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The Mysterious Psyche of Pigeons

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Claudio was driving with his daughter Maria on a beautiful day in the city. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed two pigeons flying toward the side of his car. The first pigeon turned away at the last second. The second flew directly into the window of the driver’s side door. It ricocheted off with a poof of feathers and crashed on the road behind them.

“Did you see that?” asked Claudio.

“What happened?” replied Maria.

“A pigeon flew into the car. It didn’t change directions or anything. Just Bam! Splat! Stupid bird.”

“Weird. Why’d it do that? Was it suicidal or something? Can pigeons even be suicidal?” asked Maria.

“I never thought about it before. I wouldn’t think so.”

“Me neither.”

“Now I’m not so sure.”

“Me too,” said Maria.

The two rode in silence for a minute, still startled by the traumatic event.

“I wonder what would bring a pigeon to commit suicide?” Claudio thought out loud. “Could a pigeon’s life ever get so bad it would want to kill itself?”

“There were two of them, right? Maybe they were playing ‘Chicken’? Like, who could fly closest to the car?” asked Maria.

“Huh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Then again, maybe it was just a stupid pigeon,” concluded Maria.

“Whatever it is, it’s certainly not something you see every day,” said Claudio.

“Thank God,” said Maria, “That was gross.”

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Idea For An App

I want to create an app that helps identify the scat of animals all over the world. I’d call it ‘Crapp’.

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A Modern Guy’s Best Friend

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Brady was checking instagram on his smartphone when his friend Austin burst into the room.

“I need a wingman,” announced Austin. His eyes were red, like he’d been crying.

“What happened? Why didn’t you text me?”

“That’s why I need a wingman. I had a bad breakup.”

“With Diane?”

Austin rolled his eyes. “You think I’d be freaking out this much over a girl? I broke my phone.”

Brady reeled. “Sorry, man. I didn’t know. What happened?”

“I dropped it in the toilet taking a selfie.”

“Fried it?”

“Totally. I feel, like, so empty,” said Austin.

“Can’t live without one.”

“I know. I called for Siri, but she’s gone.” Austin choked up.

“Be strong, man,” said Brady.

“Siri was my one truest love. Spent more time with her than anyone.”

“So you’re gonna get her back?” asked Brady.

“Don’t know. Everything’s changed since I got her. It’s been 9 months.”

“How many new phones came on the market since then?” asked Brady.

“I know, right?”

Brady put his hand on Austin’s shoulder. “Never fear. I’ll help you through this wilderness.”

“Thanks, man. You’re the next best thing to a smartphone,” said Austin.

A tear welled up in Brady’s eyes. “That’s the best thing ever said to me.”

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