Archive for 2018

Is Any­one Feel­ing a Lit­tle Dirty Af­ter All This Pie Talk?

Cashier, an­swer­ing phone: Hel­lo, Bak­er’s Square. [Pause.]Cashier, in­cred­u­lous: Do we sell pies? [Pause.]Cashier, boast­ful: We were vot­ed best pies in the world, we en­tered a con­test and won. [Pause.]Cashier, sober: Yes, we sell pies. [Pause.]Cashier, in­dig­nant: A bar­be­cue pie? I nev­er heard of such a thing in my en­tire life. [Pause.]Cashier, im­pa­tient: Ma’am, did you have a spe­cif­ic ques­tion? I’m pret­ty busy. [Pause.]Cashier, puz­zled: [Hangs up.]

Sil­i­con Val­ley, Cal­i­for­nia

Over­heard by: My Good Ear

If You Swal­low Se­men, Could You Poop Out a Ba­by?

Girl #1: I feel like I’m preg­nant.
Girl #2: Maybe you are.
Girl #1: But, it was anal sex.
Girl #2: But I think it could still pass through.
Girl #1: “Pass through?”
Girl #2: Yeah, I think some­times it can.
Girl #1: Oh god.
Girl #2: I think I’ve heard it could. You’d bet­ter go get checked out.
Girl #1: Oh, god!
Girl #2: You’re even look­ing kind of…bigger.

Illi­nois

Jer­sey? You Bas­tards!

Cor­po­rate boss on phone: Do you know where I am? Do you know where I am? I’m on Roo­sevelt-fuck­ing-Is­land… Roo­sevelt-fuck­ing-Is­land! In a fuck­ing trail­er! This is my life, okay? I was nau­seous this morn­ing ’cause I’m a schmuck. I’m on Roo­sevelt-fuck­ing-Is­land… So tell me, does it get any worse?

Roo­sevelt Is­land, New York

Over­heard by: Of­ficetemp