Funny Newsman Blooper Day!

You are responsible for the big funny newsman blooper clip of the day. You just finished the 5:30 broadcast, but already people are forwarding to each other the clip of your hilarious blooper, where the weather guy says to you, "So it looks like rain tomorrow, Dan." And you replied, "Pain? I mean rain? Whoops!"

Everyone chuckled a little bit, then you asked, "Rain of blood or tears? Or both? That's my life right there. Crying my eyes out until the tears stop and my eyes have no choice but to reach back into my skull, scratch my brain until the blood starts to flow and pour out my tear ducts just to appease my tear ducts' thirst. Why'd Susanne leave? Hey Susanne, you out there? Why'd you leave? I told you you were my only one, forever and ever amen. Aw God, it's not gonna end is it? Life? Is it Frank?"

Frank the weather guy didn't know what to say. So you walked over and spit in his face.

"This is it, Cincinnati! You want some news, here it is!"

Then you got up on the anchor desk, opened your pants, laid down on your back and started peeing up in the air, aiming your penis until the arc of pee was landing in your own open mouth. Your co-anchor Leslie tried to pull you off the desk, so you took her hand and started slapping your own face with it.

"Fucktastic!" you shouted. Then you stabbed yourself in the heart.

It was classic and everyone who watched it already forgot about it.

Happy Funny Newsman Blooper Day!

Office Girl Day!

Office Girl is the saddest girl there ever was because she spends all day with her back bent over a stapler and her legs wrapped up in strange-fitting slacks when she should be in a park with her head lain back in a boy's lap, her hair splayed out over his thighs, her eyes looking up into his wondering if she's wasting her looks on the wrong boy.

"Look at this blouse," she says to you. "I should be wearing tops that fall off the shoulder. My shoulders are amazing. Instead I'm wearing this shit, stuck doing this shit, talking about this kind of shit to boys like you, who don't even look half as handsome as the boy who's probably not good looking enough for me."

Just then two grown men will pass by her cubicle tossing a nerf football. Office girl will cry and you'll hold her and yes, she'll know how big a deal it is that you're getting to hold her. But Uncle Sam expects everyone to work if they want to eat a meal or two so she's stuck crying into terrible excuses for chests like yours.

"The world deserves better than to have me cooped up in here talking to you," she says.

You know she's right. It hurts to have it confirmed, but you shouldn't take it out on her. If you're looking for someone to blame, there's no better place to start than with the man upstairs (God).

Happy Office Girl Day!

Summer Romance Day!

Today you're going to meet a boy who upsets you in a way that makes you want to kiss him in lakes. He'll be 40 (you're 42).

"What are we going to do when the summer ends?" you'll ask him one gorgeous night when you're lying on the hood of his car staring at airplanes.

"Go back to our spouses I guess," he'll say.

You don't know what you were hoping to hear him say. You know that he's right. You have to go back. No matter how much fun you're having with your summer romance, you miss your husband and your daughters. But you kind of wish he didn't miss his wife and teenage son. You kind of wish he would express just a little sadness that these things can only last for the duration of a season.

"Hey you guys," you'll hear from behind the car. It's your husband.

"What are you doing here?" you'll ask.

"Dominique had to go back to Paris," he'll say. "She's taking a summer semester."

"Summer semester?" you'll say. "How old was she?"

"Eighteen. Why, how old's yours?"

Your summer romance will sit up and show your husband his mop of gray hair and face full of wrinkles.

"Jesus," your husband will say. "More like winter romance. Or whichever season means being near death of natural causes due to old age romance."

You and your summer romance will say, "Yeah that's winter."

Your husband will tell you that with Dominique gone, he's free for the rest of the summer so he can pick up the girls from your mother's and raise them. You're a little jealous that he gets to be with your daughters, but he hurt you when he said your summer romance is too old. You don't want him to think you'd rather be home raising your children, so you give your summer romance a wet sloppy kiss while your husband watches.

"Ew!" your husband shouts. Then he takes off in his Volvo and heads for home.

Happy Summer Romance Day!

We Are The Magic Police Day!

We are a special division of your local police force that uses magic to prevent crime. For example, last week, a suspicious man was seen outside the 7-11 around the corner from your house. He was planning to rob the 7-11 at gunpoint, but we sawed him in half before he could. We kept him in two halves until he agreed to see a jobs counselor to help him find a way to make money that doesn't involve committing crimes. Once he agreed, we spun the boxes containing his two halves around the parking lot, then we put him back together, let him out of the box, and sent him on his way to a crime free life. See? Magic! (police)

But that's not why we're here. We're here because you used to date our top illusionist, Leland. Yeah, Leland's an illusionist now. It's different from a magician in some way (he says). Anyway, he's really been down in the dumps since you broke it off with him, and it's made him unable to wow criminals with his mind-boggling illusions, which has in turn caused the town's murder rate to skyrocket.

Apparently, you're just about the hottest thing Leland's ever seen naked. And remember, he can make illusions so he can pretty much see whatever he wants naked. He's convinced there's no point in bothering anymore if he has to live a life without you naked in it. If you don't take him back, Leland might stop fighting crime by making people look at fucked up shit altogether! Which means more people are going to die and when we have our departmental review we're going to have to juke the stats.

What do you say? Do you think you can find a part of your heart that isn't grossed out by letting Leland touch you? Remember, people are going to die and while we're not trying to say it will be your fault if they do, well, who else would be to blame? Not us, that's for sure, because we are the Magic Police.

Happy We Are The Magic Police Day!

Dance With Her Again After 30 Years Apart Day!

The night you got arrested for a crime you didn't commit, you were at a cotillion with Loretta, the most beautiful girl in your town. You danced with her for hours, feeling heaven in your hands as you lifted and squeezed and swayed with that wonderful dream of a girl. You could have danced with her for the rest of your life. But when you stepped out of the dance you found out you'd been framed for a crime you didn't commit so you spent the next thirty years in jail.

You spent those thirty years remembering your dance with Loretta. You wrote to each other every day, promising each other that you'd wait. You felt in your heart that it didn't matter that you were in prison, just as long as you'd get the chance to dance with Loretta just one more time. Your life will have been wonderful if you get the chance to hold that woman in your arms again while the music plays you about the dance floor.

Tonight's the night. You got released, you have a suit on. You're going to dance with Loretta again. You're going to meet Loretta at her home, and you're going to dance with her on her living room floor. You're certain that the minute you place your hand on her back, it will feel as if the past three decades have been completely erased from time and you're both right back where you were that night of the cotillion.

Halfway through your first dance, you'll know you were wrong. It's nice to dance together again, sure, and you both feel a great deal of love for each other. But those thirty years are definitely still there. In fact, they loom even bigger for both of you, knowing how awesome it would have been to spend those thirty years dancing instead of sending letters in and out of prison. You hold each other's aged bodies, pained with thoughts of how wonderful it would be to hold each other's bodies when they were still fit, young and muscular. You move slowly about the carpet, trying not to scream at God for making you miss out on the time when you used to float together. It's so wonderful to finally hold each other again, and so unfair that you had to wait this long.

At the end of the song, you both move to separate chairs and weep.

Happy Dance With Her Again After 30 Years Apart Day!

It's Time To Talk To Janice About Deborah And Leon Day!

Your wife Deborah is cheating on you with Leon, who is married to Janice. Are we clear? Good.

Go see Janice (the one married to Leon) and tell her that Leon (Janice's husband) is sleeping with Deborah (your wife). Make sure you keep all these names straight or this will go horribly.

"Wait, who?" Janice will say.

"Leon," you'll say. Janice will be real impatient with you since she has a whole lot more cakes to make. Janice owns a bakery. Remember that.

"Why did you come here to tell me that Leon and I are having sex?" Janice will say. You must have screwed up the names.

"No, I didn't mean to say you're having sex," you'll say.

"Well if you did, you'd be right. I just don't understand why you came all the way here [to the bakery I own] to tell me that."

Look down at your hand for the notes you wrote in pen. Janice - Leon wife. Leon - Deborah affair. Deborah - My wife. Janice is a baker.

Say, "You're a baker."

Janice will nod.

"I'm married to Deborah."

Janice will nod again.

"You're married to Leon."

Janice will lean forward now. She can see you're on the right track.

"Deborah has sex in bakeries with Janice."

NO! YOU FUCKED IT UP!!!

Happy It's Time To Talk To Janice About Deborah And Leon Day!

Carson City Motorcycle and RV Day!

Your wife disappeared eighteen years ago because she met a slick talking salesman who told her he'd give her the world and she bought his pitch. Little did she know the world he was promising didn't extend very far outside the glass-enclosed showroom of Carson City Motorcycle and RV, where she is presently the number 4 saleperson (out of six).

She left you to raise your son alone. He was just a baby when she split, and if he ever got curious about her, he kept it to himself. So when you pull onto the lot today to buy your and her son a new Kawasaki for his high school graduation present, the boy doesn't have a clue that he's being upsold by his very own mama.

"Pretty kickass," you son says, sitting on a banana yellow Ninja 250R.

You and his mother stare at each other with the boy in between. Her eyes wonder if you brought him here on purpose. You let her know with your eyes that it's just one of those funny coincidences that are never as funny as they should be, that the only thing you wanted in life was to make it to the grave without seeing her face again.

"Four stroke engine," she says, unable to look the boy in the eye. "Liquid cooled. DOHC. Four valve per cylinder."

Your son bounces in the seat. His mother sighs at the sight, now looking like she's on the verge of breaking down and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

"Liquid cooled," she repeats herself. "Four valve."

Your son asks you if he can have it.

"Looks like you just made yourself a sale," you say.

The price on the windblock reads $7200.

"You're not even gonna haggle dad?" your son asks.

You don't say a word. You just pull your checkbook out of your pocket and start to write.

"I can give you a good deal," she says. "Half-price."

"I'll pay the price on the vehicle," you say, continuing to write your check.

"Dad."

"I want to give you this deal," she says.

Your son looks at his mother, then at you.

"Ain't no way you're taking a penny less than full price for my son's high school graduation present," you say, not lifting your eyes from the check.

She looks at the boy. He's staring at you bewildered. He doesn't see her lift her hand to his head, and he's startled when she puts her fingers through his hair.

This grabs your attention. This is worth looking up from that checkbook to witness. You let it happen. You don't yank her arm away from the boy so you can break it at the wrist. You don't need to. There's way too much pain in that touch already.

Happy Carson City Motorcycle and RV Day!

You Are A Good Person Because You Take Care Of Your Grandmother Day!

She has no one left, clearly, if she's living under the care of one of her kids' kids. No husband anymore. All her children were probably killed in a car wreck or sent to jail or something. Way back, it might have been her taking care of you, but she quickly became infirm and helpless. So it came to pass that you started taking care of your grandma and are therefore a good person.

"Wesley?" she shouts downstairs.

You can't answer because you're making meth in the basement, but only to raise some money for an orphanage that's down on its luck.

"Wesley?" she shouts again.

"Coming grandma!" you say. You head upstairs to the kitchen to get her dinner out of the oven. You stop in the living room on your way and you grab a single yellow rose from a vase and place it on her dinner tray. Then you head upstairs.

"Happy birthday Grandma," you say. She smiles a big smile and claps her hands once.

"Such a good grandson," she says. "What would I do without you?"

"Guess you'd have to be the prettiest grandma all by your lonesome, wouldn't you," you say.

Your grandma laughs, then she waits as you spoon her meal into her mouth.

Just then a shady character from your past pulls into the driveway to make you a proposition that will change everything and send you down the road to either redemption or ruin, but you'll be able to reunite with your one true love along the way so that's bitchin'.

"One more bite Grandma?" you ask.

Both of you hear the car door outside.

"You keep quiet, okay grandma?" you say. "I'll go see who it is."

You get up from the bed and close the door. The next time you see your grandmother, you'll be standing over her corpse making her a promise that you're going to get the bastards who did whatever it was they did to turn her into a corpse.

Happy You Are A Good Person Because You Take Care Of Your Grandmother Day!