Posts Tagged ‘spoof


Gaming Frustration Vent, 12-6-2019


Just blowing off a little G5 hidden object game steam, again.  It’s convenient I came across this caveman-ish fellow.


[Tee-hee.  Car insurance laugh.]


Friend-Less, the Solution to “Icky Drama”


[The setting: Woman-A meets with her friend, Woman-B at a cafe for lunch. They start talking and eventually reach a disagreement which gives Woman-A a bad case of indigestion and gas (because her emotions are tied to her digestive system). Woman-B decides to use the Ladies’ Room while Woman A maintains her distance and hopes no one complains about her flatulence. A female stranger, Woman-C, notices the discomfort of Woman-A and joins her.]

Woman C: Is your friend giving you digestive problems?

Woman A: Urp! *sigh* …Yeah.

Woman C: Then you need Friend-Less. She’s 100% human but without the complicated emotional upsets. You’ll never have to endure a conflict of interests, again!

Woman A: Sounds *B-Lurp!* great. Where can I find…uh, her?


[You won’t find Friend-Less in any restaurant, workplace, club, yoga class, pharmacy or department store. Science hasn’t worked out all the bugs on this one, yet. And, even if someone did, it would be a crime against nature (unless a higher power chose a lack of emotional upsets as a step in evolution, as an adaptation). ‘Sort of like any food/drink that has been tampered with to boast a lack of side effects. It’s NOT 100% anything except guaranteed to be manipulated.]


My New Social Networks

I’m not much of a joiner. I’m just too darn skeptical.

I don’t like assuming everyone and every corporation you find is suddenly a “friend” you can add to or delete from your circle. I don’t like slinging, eating or smoking hash. Nor do I have any interest in tagging bags of it. I don’t want people following me everywhere and reading my every thought. I don’t like people abusing a word like– What’s the word I’m thinking of? You know. It’s like…something like… Anyway. Why be one of countless followers feeding the pockets of some millennial mogul-in-the-making when you could be feeding your own pockets with shat piles of gold?

So, I did just that. I crapped out my own social domains in just a few minutes. Sign up, and you can continue to defecate every little thing that crosses your blue-lit mind in one more trending space. Or, link your crap from other spaces to this space to create a chain of crap, otherwise known as diarrhea of the internet.

Once I’m rolling in golden crap cakes, I’ll be sure to thank everyone by showing off the fruits of my empire and a short shat list of charities I support to distract you from my stock and political angles.

Now, go forth, be poop-ful and multiply.

Be sure to Kiss my Arsebook page and Stalk my Sh@tter feed.

I’m Writingbolt and I drop this statement (along with one smelly microphone).



If Ariel Saw the Modern World…


Setting:  We take you to a rock jutting out of the sea in that famous scene from Disney’s version of Hans Christian Anderson’s The Little Mermaid where Ariel sings about joining the land-dwellers’ world…in the modern world as we know it…

Ariel:  Look at this trove of treasures untold.  How many wonders can one cavern hold?  Looking around here, you’d think, sure, she’s got everything…

A garbage truck pulls up to the beach to dump another load of stuff that apparently isn’t fit for an overflowing landfill.  Ariel watches as the seagulls descend to pick through the mess.  She winces as one eats something she’d rather not ingest or see anyone ingest for that matter.

Ariel:  Up where they walk.  Up where they run.  Up where they spend all day in the sun…

But, people are not walking and running in the sun on the cracked concrete she sees.  They are distracted by the gadgets in their hands and on their desks.  They are commuting by car and truck, kicking up quite the cloud of smog.  And, the commotion never fully stops, even late at night.

Ariel shields her nose and mouth, ducking under water briefly before her nagging curiosity strikes, again.

Ariel:  Wandering free…

Video screens everywhere display criminal activity in the news, slavery, prisoners of war, mass destruction.  And, eyes are fixed on most if not all of them.

Ariel:  Wish I could be…

A large freighter carrying hastily made products from China to the USA nearly collides with her perch.  She returns from the deep with frazzled hair and a headache.  She raises an index finger to make one more attempt at singing something profound.  But, the words are not there.  No, she did not lose her voice to some sea witch.  She just lost her fountain of optimism and returns to her underwater domain which no longer seems so bad.  In fact, it’s quite safe and reassuring.  At least, until the surface pollution turns up the water temperature to unbearable.

A lesson in thinking the grass is greener on the other side.



Free Pervert Profiling


Setting: We open with an elated young woman (May) joining a female friend (June) for lunch at a small restaurant. [Insert an assortment of clinking plates and silverware.] The latter waits at a small round table for two and gets up to embrace her friend as she approaches with good news practically exploding from her artificially white smile.

[May is a humble gal dressed in a wooly coat adorned with a scarf she knitted herself. Her flats are weathered from plenty of walking and catching buses. June has sold her soul for a bigger salary; thus she is dressed in the latest fashions which cost a fortune but will be completely worthless in less than five years.]

June: So? Tell me. What’s got you so excited this morning?

May: I just found me the perfect boyfriend. He’s the complete package.

Both women take their seats. A waitress appears to collect initial orders for coffee and appetizers. Throwing the departing waitress a casual glance, June returns her full attention to May.

June (whispering): May. There is no such thing as a perfect boyfriend.

May: I beg to differ, June. This one is. I know it.

June: And, have you done a background check on him, yet?

May: What?! I-I’m not that kind of gal. I trust my gut.

June: Well, you can trust your gut to the bank. But, you’re a fool if you don’t, at least, do a quick search online. Just go to and get your free pervert profile. Input everything you think you know about the guy. A trusted professional will do the rest. In no time at all, you’ll know just how perfect this guy really is.”

May removes a surprisingly expensive-looking “smartphone” from her knitted handbag and brings up a search engine.

May: Just go to, ay?

June: It’s totally free. Try it.

May pretends to input what she knows about her new boyfriend in a matter of seconds…because the commercial will end in less than thirty seconds. Upon seeing a discouraging message on a flashing red screen, May sulks.

May: I guess you were right. He’s far from perfect.

June: See? You owe me one.

May: What do I owe ya?

June: For starters, you can buy me lunch. Just kidding. You’re poor.

Both women laugh in a muffled, corny, TV sitcom way as the image freezes.

Announcer: Don’t date Mr. Wrong. Go to and get your free background check, today.

Disclaimer: The image seen on May’s phone is not what you actually see upon inputing data. The previously mentioned website has no information to provide other than what visitors give to it. Thus, your attempts at a background check may result in a 404 apology. There are no trustworthy professionals here. We don’t know the meaning of those words because the majority of our employees don’t even speak English. We are not responsible for your absent-minded use of the internet. All sorts of message and data usage fees will be levied just for fun and profit. But, we will avoid legal action by creating a charity and writing everything off during tax season.


Become a Certified Poopologist


Hey, Blogmericans. I’m Pete Underbrush. You might know me from my home-remodeling, cooking, magic, stunt, survival, game show. Well, I’m here to tell you how exciting your life can be with a career as a poopologist.

‘Think I am just pulling your chain? Think again! I’m not some paid turd off the street, trying to get into showbiz. My TV career is tanking. I had to give up a big mobile home and my crew to live in a much smaller, stationary crapper. I cannot afford to lie. But, I can be paid to say anything. So, believe me when I say poopologists are real. I should know. I just became one.

If you call in and sign up, now, we will send you a free special care package and deliver it straight to your door at no additional cost to you. Then you can discover the wonderful world of excrement study yourself. A hands-on education could be just what you need to breathe easier about your financial future.

Don’t just sit there with your pants down, twiddling your thumbs. Put your poop time to good use. Become a certified poopologist in just six weeks.


Don’t delay. Call 1-800-CRAP-YES, today.


Free Loser Rating


Setting: We open with a young man named Ted staring at his cell phone screen in a suburban kitchen early in the morning. His back rests against a sunlit window. An island near his bar stool is littered with breakfast components: a bowl, a spoon, boxes of cereal, a bowl of fruit.

His older brother Kip stops by the family home to do laundry. Seeing the younger sibling wasting time, Kip feels the need to spare Ted from a miserable adulthood.

Kip: So…whatchya doin’, bro?

Ted: Hmm? Oh. I’m just scrolling through feeds about people I know. Well, people I’ve added to my Fbook collection. I’ve never actually met any of them.

Kip: [Sigh] Ted. You don’t want to be a loser all your life. Do you?

A daydream sequence unfolds in Ted’s mind, featuring various ways he could wind up a loser. [We can hammer those out, later, or cut the sequence, entirely.] Bothered by his older brother’s choice of words, Ted temporarily lowers the phone and throws Kip a scornful look.

Ted: What?! I’m not a–

Kip: Teeeed? You are. Don’t believe me? Just go to and get your loser rating. It’s totally free.”

Ted hastily thumbs the address into his phone, initially misspelling the name and winding up on a porn site which screws with his WiFi speed while he makes the correction and avoids further criticism from his brother. Ted inputs all of the essential personal data required for proper identity theft and is relieved to see a flashing display confirm he is not a loser. He smiles while showing the screen to Kip.

Ted: See, Kip? I’m not a loser, after all.

Kip is busy scanning the contents of the refrigerator. He hasn’t eaten a decent meal in days. Closing the refrigerator door, Kip turns and frowns in disbelief. He has been trumped.

Kip: Yeah. Well, you’re still a loser in my book.

Ted: And, that’s why we never hang out together.

Both brothers laugh in a muffled, corny, TV sitcom way as the image freezes.

Announcer: Don’t be a loser. Go to and get your free loser rating today!

Disclaimer: Use of is not free and has nothing to do with actually determining your social status. Some fees and charges may apply. What is the difference between a charge and a fee? It does not matter. We will charge you as we please for taking the bait. And, your personal information will be used to annoy you and drain your bank accounts. Congratulations, you complete loser, for being duped by our televised scam.