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| My Confession | Started by: Troy_McClure on Sep 28, '07 00:51 |
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Hi, I'm Troy McClure, you may remember me from such self-help videos as "Smoke Yourself Thin" and "Get Some Confidence, Stupid!" After seeking professional help from Father Pat McGroin, he suggested to me that I confess my sins to the public, so this is my apology to my favorite former bartender Mr. Pickles. So hear is my story and public apology to Mr. Pickles. Pickle's wife was in bed with me when she heard her husband's key in the door. "Stay where you are," she said. "He's so drunk he won't even notice you're in bed with me." Sure enough, Pickle's lurched into bed none the wiser, but a few minutes later, through a drunken haze, he saw six feet sticking out at the end of the bed. He turned to his wife: "Hey, there are six feet in this bed. There should only be four. What's going on?" "Nonsense," said his wife. "You're so drunk you miscounted. Get out of bed and try again. You can see better from over there." The Pickles climbed out of bed and counted. "One, two, three, four. You're right, you know." So I must say I'm sorry for my past actions; hopefully you all as a community will forgive.... and possibly attend my new movie. Feel free to list your own confessions, and/or amusing stories here also. |
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The Mathmatician breaths deeply before starting Well, this is the story about how me and The Chemist became such good friends, I mean, after someone does this to you, and you can be friends, there is just no greater guy. I was at a bar one night and saw this fine looking dame. She and I went back to her house and had a bit of a wild night in the bath tub until we heard her husband come home. Well, she told me not to worry and quickly covered me in flour... the dame was none to bright, I swear, anyway, she told me to stand perfectly still and act like a statue at one of those stores where they dress the big doll up. So I did. Her husband--The Chemist, if you havn't guessed already--walks in, takes one look at me and says "Where'd you get that thing" she made up some story of them throwin it out at Macy's, anyway, later on that night I was getting hungry, but still hadn't moved when The Chemist got up and made himself a sandwhich. Coming back into his bedroom he held out half to me and said "Eat something, statue. I know you must be hungry, last week I pretended to be a statue over at Sorina's place for three days straight and noone was kind enough to even give me a glass of water." So that's how me and The Chemist came to be such good friends. |
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| Reply by: The_Mathmatician at Sep 28, '07 01:44 | |
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