Every night while they’re sleeping, he flies back to the North Pole to tell Santa what he saw that day.

And he doesn’t like to be touched.

NOTHING AT ALL CREEPY ABOUT THIS FELLA – JUST LOOK AT THAT INNOCENT, NON-MURDERING FACE OF HIS!!!

Granted, I suppose when we base a holiday around a fat guy sneaking into your house in the middle of the night, eating your cookies and then leaving behind presents, some might argue that we’ve already left the chimney flue open for all sorts of other disturbing characters to wander into our homes and do things that would warrant a call to the police if not committed by someone wearing a red suit with bells jingling all about.

But no self-respecting adult can look at this elf – that looks like he was a reject from Mister Rogers’ Land of Make-Believe – and not admit that he’s a creepy, little sonofabitch to put it so kindly. Between your kids and your Instagram followers, maybe you’ve gotten convinced that his wacky hijinks like nude bathing in the sugar bowl and bobbing for marshmallows out of the toilet are harmless good fun as we ramp up in preparation for a visit from the biggest – no pun intended – reverse-thief of them all, but deep down when you’re arranging that creepy fucker ever so delicately among your sharpest steak knives or figuring out how to get him into the water cooler “so that he can go swimming,” you know exactly how creepy this Elf on a Shelf really is…

I don’t know – maybe it’s just me being naive, but I don’t let murderers into my house and anyone who’s got rosy red cheeks permanently painted onto their face is most definitely a murderer.

Come on, people – that’s like Identifying Murderers 101.

You may think that you’re being cute with all of your Pinterest-inspired scenarios that little Kringle gets himself into, and your kids look so excited when they spring out of bed each morning, anxious to hunt around the house in search of what kind of mischief the little creepazoid has gotten himself into next. But let’s be honest with ourselves here – your kids would be excited if a stranger pulled up near the playground in an unmarked van filled with candy, but that doesn’t mean you bookmark the Hertz website to keep an eye on when the most affordable days to rent a van are.

Because I worry about the kids, honestly I do. When these jolly bastards go on their inevitable killing spree and murder the same parents who thought that they’d be a cute little Christmas game for Peyton and Cameron, I’ll be ok with that because they should’ve recognized the look of a killer in that elf’s eyes and left him on the shelf to ultimately gather dust in Hallmark’s warehouses where he belongs. Plus, that’ll mean shorter lines for me when I go out to do my holiday shopping!

But children don’t deserve to lose their lives at such a young age to a foot-tall puppet demon from the North Pole with a creepily innocent smile and a bloodlust for holiday mayhem that won’t be quenched until the carpets are stained with the colors of a thousand candy canes. Kids should be able to look forward to this magical time of year without worry that Lady Elaine Fairchilde’s outcast nephew is lurking in the toy box, watching their every move like some kind of posable, fun-loving pervert, just waiting for the perfect time to strike.

If you want your kids to behave out of fear of not getting any Christmas presents, install security cameras in their rooms like any reasonable parent and tell them that Santa will be watching them over the Internet while he works.

But don’t openly welcome this creepy murderer into your house – Santa will be here soon enough.

The post Elf on a Shelf is a Creepy Murderer and You Know It appeared first on Just Laugh.

With headlines like Dolphins Evolve Opposable Thumbs and WWE Challenges US Government to a Cage Match, only the biggest of idiots ever thought that any of these hilarious stories actually contained even one iota of truth and the rest of us all enjoyed a cavalcade of laughter at the farce of the ridiculous and the bizarre being proposed as legitimate news.

And then you came along – with your social medias and your political bias, devoid of any journalistic integrity that might actually drive you to research your shit before posting baseless drivel online in the form of stupid memes and clickbait articles for the sake of not laughs, but what???

Thanks to fake news being hijacked by the politically corrupt, dumb people will click on anything these days and consider it fact instead of being skeptical because even an idiot could tell that a woman stealing tampons from work for pleasure couldn’t possibly be a real thing … or even if it was, a real live, legitimate journalist wouldn’t see fit to write a story for a real live, legitimate newspaper about it!

This is not your 10th grade US history class where you could just make up any old tale about the revolutionary war being fought over free access to mashed potatoes and gravy and your drunk of a history teacher would just give everybody A’s because he’d spent the night before waltzing with Jack Daniels in his studio apartment above the music store downtown wondering how his life had become all of this when in college he’d really wanted to be a poet instead.

This is the Internet where we post pictures of cats and inspirational quotes attributed to the wrong people, but in an amusing sort of way, and you don’t just blatantly make up things that are false, but not in a satirical manner, because you enjoy confusing people like some sort of asshole who lives in a trashcan with surprisingly good Internet access.

It’s not hard to look things up online. You literally just type something like 2016 ELECTION POPULAR VOTE into that bar at the top of your screen and a page will pop up showing you the actual numbers so you don’t have to just randomly mash buttons on the keyboard until your incendiary meme is complete and ready to post.

When you post mindless drivel suggesting that one group of people did something bad to another group of people when truth be told both groups of people just stayed home and caught up on their respective Netflix queues instead, it does a disservice to legitimate mindless drivel trying to make people chuckle by suggesting that a woman punching a hamburger has intentions for running for the Republican presidential nomination.

So in the immortal words of President-Elect Donald Trump, which is sadly not a fake news creation by any stretch of one’s perverted imagination, “Stop it.”

The post Stop Sullying the Name of Fake News!!! appeared first on Just Laugh.

When he was just the host of some dumb TV show where he fired people for fame and glory and sometimes for charity; when he was just some random billionaire who had printed his name in gold on a bunch of tall buildings in New York, but otherwise harmless.

A lot has changed since then and somehow Donald Trump has managed to slink his way to the top of our news headlines every single day. It doesn’t matter what he says – we read about him, and as a writer I have to write about him, even though I truly despise the man and would presently rank him somewhere between Caligula and Attila the Hun in a list of Just The Worst Possible Guys of All Time. Ever.

Even when I think that I’m sitting down to write an article about poisoning children with Halloween candy or the Booger Eating Champion of Pipestone, Minnesota, my fingers gravitate to those letters that spell out the name of the Root of All Evil and the Leader of the GOP…

D O N A L D  T R U M P

It’s like my keyboard has transformed into a Ouija board and I’m just another conduit out of which random content about Donald Trump pours into our world, flooding our consciousness and eroding away the very fibers of our being with locker room language from another dimension and creepy winks that are likely capable of giving you the clap.

Late, late at night, after my children have all gone to sleep and the house is perfectly silent, I sit staring at this blinking cursor, fantasizing about an article, a blog post, hell – even a simple tweet, that speaks of colorblind owls or Santa Claus being an alcoholic once more, without any mention of He Who Shall Not NOT Be Named whatsoever…

I dream of this fantastical time of free creative expression, unburdened by the pressures of the worst human being ever potentially being elected to the most important political office in the land. In this world the sun shines a little more brightly, and the children are welcome to frolic in the streets without fear of overhearing whatever the scary, orange man is being mean about today.

Neighbors are friendly to one another, or at least not boisterously racist, and even the 4s and the 5s feel comfortable in their own skin as they co-exist among the 9s and the 10s in harmony.

Feeling my fingers curl in resistance as the calendar still looms forward towards Election Day … whenever it actually is … I know that his thorny, grasp of reality denial is one which we must endure for a while longer, but with the kindness of voters across this great country, in just a few short weeks writers like myself could one day experience that freedom once again that we haven’t felt since June 16, 2015.

Together we can make America great again … by collectively not typing the words Donald Trump into our columns and status updates and PornHub searches ever again.

And that’s change I can believe in…

The post A Writer Dreams of a Post-Trump World… appeared first on Just Laugh.

I don’t care what you have between your legs because going to the bathroom isn’t really a group effort. Despite what the ladies may imply about going to the restroom in groups, I’m pretty sure that’s just for gossiping about anyone who didn’t come to the restroom with them.

I think when it comes to getting down to business in the bathroom, women are pretty solitary creatures in their habits just as much as guys are, so I don’t really get why everyone is so up in arms about whether transgender persons go in one door or the other – it’s all just poop and pee on the other side of those doors.

Some people in society place too much pressure on where other folks should poop and pee in this day and age, as if they’re right there snuggled up in the stall next to them, coaxing things along and offering up words of encouragement along the way like some sort of bathroom coach.

But people don’t need coaches in the bathroom – we all know how it works. You close the door behind you, poop and/or pee comes out of various holes in your body, and then when you’re done if there’s anybody else washing their hands, you do the same so that you don’t look like a weirdo. It’s not complicated.

There are plenty of more important things to worry about than where a transgender person goes to the bathroom. Like do they prefer Angry Birds Seasons or Angry Birds in Space, which is way tougher but you’ve got to admit that the effects of gravity and weightlessness are kind of cool. Also, do transgender people do that fake out about washing their hands if nobody else is around, too, or is that just me?

These are the types of bathroom questions about other people that are important. Other than that, I don’t care if you’re King Tut, or King Kong, or King Kong’s girlfriend who’s in the middle of transitioning and she still looks kind of feminine, but you’re not going to say anything because a) that would be rude, and b) who in their right mind pisses off King Kong’s friends?!

Like I said, I’m just here to pee, and apparently I’m going to be here for a while because King Kong’s transgender lady friend just beat my high score…

The post I’m Just Here to Pee appeared first on Just Laugh.

Is America aroused … sexually … when it comes to GUNS???

The only reason I ask is that shootings like the one that took place yesterday in San Bernardino that killed 14 people … they pretty much happen every single day. It’s getting to the point where it’s not so much disturbing as it is just embarrassing, like when your Mom catches you jacking off in your bedroom to midget porn and yet you keep forgetting to lock the door just like you did the last 354 times this year.

Of course, nobody dies with regards to midget porn – in fact, the midgets probably enjoy it just as much as you do!

I can’t help but imagine that America looks kind of like Yosemite Sam to the rest of the world after a day like yesterday – knee deep in political thoughts and prayers but notably absent of any actual action that might help prevent this exact same tragedy from quite literally taking place again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that…

We’re at the point where the United States statistically has more guns than it does people, which puts us at roughly 124 million Yosemite Sams running around, waving their pistols wildly in the air when you consider that only 40% of the populace actually owns those 357 million guns! Nobody hunts that many deer or fears their government that much – pure, unadulterated sexual arousal is the only logical conclusion as to why The Best Country in the World would tolerate such a scathing homicidal record in one hand while it continually passes new legislation to deregulate gun ownership to keep its #1 circle jerk partner, the National Rifle Association, happy.

Now don’t get me wrong – America as a country is fairly young and lately it’s been going through some changes that it doesn’t entirely understand. These changes are perfectly normal, however it’s still important for an up and coming country to use protection if it happens to find itself acting on certain urges such as thinking that the answer to gun violence in America is even more guns.

It’s fine to enjoy the intimate pleasures of a nice Colt .45 revolver or perhaps a sleek and sexy, AR15 semiautomatic killing machine from time to time, but moderation is the key for a healthy, albeit perpetually handgun horny populace that is able to go multiple days in a row without murdering each other in cold blood. The reason that Yosemite Sam isn’t taken seriously in the greater Looney Tunes omniverse is because contrary to that giant red ‘stache’s outlook on life and wabbits, guns aren’t the solution to every single problem that exists on the planet…

You can’t feed homeless people with guns.

You can’t send a man to the moon with a gun.

And history shows that despite an admirable persistence, you can’t kill Bugs Bunny even with two guns.

So I want you to listen to me, America – being aroused by the cold, hard steel of a ballistic weapon is normal for a country of your age, but you’ve got to lock the door when you’re appreciating its beauty so that your mother doesn’t walk in and accidentally get shot in the face.

Eventually when you’re a little older, you’re going to learn how to solve your problems through calm, rational thought and peaceful discussions … hopefully sooner than later … but in the meantime, while you’re working through these difficult times if you could just keep your youthful, carnal lust for firepower in private where it belongs, the rest of us who enjoy living would certainly appreciate it…

The post Does America Have a Hard-On for Handguns? appeared first on Just Laugh.

I don’t care what the lady on the six o’clock news has been telling you in her shocked and concerned voice every night this week. Nobody wants to poison your kids, and if they did, who would really pick Halloween of all holidays to do it?!

Everyone’s dressed up in disguises. It’s dark. What if they accidentally poison Susie instead of Johnny???

Besides, do you have any idea how much of a pain it is to poison pre-packaged candy that one buys from the store anyways?! Sure, maybe if you’re making your own candy or something – you pour a cup of bleach or weed killer into the mix for those little assholes who seriously don’t understand what “STAY OFF THE FUCKING GRASS!!!” means, but really, who even has the time for that these days?

It always amuses me how some people get so worked up about how dangerous trick or treating can be, as if people who are willing to take the time to hand out sweets to every little shit in the neighborhood are going to then selectively poison every fourth child on some sort of sick whim. These are the same people who also somehow believe that their church “Trunk or Treat” festivities are far safer because, well, who wouldn’t trust a guy handing out candy and treats out of the trunk of his car?!?!?!

“Did Father Jerry give you a tire iron for trick or treating this year?”

“Yeah, he said that he was all out of 8-balls, but that if I hurried I could probably catch up with the other kids who beat me to him…”

I remember how back in my day, it was the scare of the razor blade in the apple that all of the parents were terrified of … as if any self-respecting kid was even going to give an apple a second glance when there was a perfectly good pile of normal candy towering in front of us. Besides, what kind of an idiot doesn’t notice a razor blade buried inside of a granny smith apple?! On a paranoia-fueled night like Halloween, you’d think the razor blade-shaped gouge in the side of the fruit would be sort of a giveaway…

If somebody was really out to get your kids on Halloween, there are so many more efficient ways to go after ’em – trip wires in the front yard, not paying attention when you’re backing out of the driveway, some sort of elaborate cage mechanism that falls down from the roof when they ring the doorbell.

Poison and razor blades are so 1985, and they were complete and total bullshit when people were paranoid about them back then, too.

The post Nobody Wants to Poison Your Stupid Kids… appeared first on Just Laugh.

I don’t care that you like to turn your nose up at the Pumpkin Spice Latte ladies at Starbucks, even though the crap you’re there to buy every day like clockwork isn’t any better.

PUMPKIN SPICE IS AWESOME AND YOU’RE WRONG IF YOU THINK ANYTHING OTHERWISE!!!!!

How many other seasons get their own limited edition flavorings???

Try Christmas, and that’s about it, and even though they technically get both gingerbread and peppermint, pumpkin basically spans two holidays between Halloween and Thanksgiving, so that certainly evens the odds, if not puts pumpkin already over the goal line.

Plus, gingerbread and peppermint are mere extras during Christmastime, taking a backseat to Santa and presents and holiday lights, whereas let’s all be honest – unless you’re five years old and planning on going trick or treating, pumpkin spice is pretty much the highlight of the season when it comes to celebrating autumn as a full-blown adult.

People like to rag on pumpkin because it’s so wildly successful that it’s managed to permeate through every nook and cranny of our consumer-driven lives, but I’ll repeat what one of the great poets of our time once said – “Haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate…” because I’m just gonna eat eat eat eat eat pumpkin all day long and into the night until the day after Turkey Day is finally upon us and it’s time to pumpkin purge to make way for enough Christmas cookies to give Santa Claus himself diabetes.

Maybe if the haters spent more time embracing their delicious pumpkin overlords and less time being morons, the conversion process could just complete and we’d all be able to live together in pumpkin-y harmony – happy, lovingly round pumpkin citizens, each in our pumpkin houses where the cupboards are stocked with nary a bread, cheese, or breakfast pastry that doesn’t feature the likeness of our sweet ruler, ‘O Señor Pumpkin Head.

There would be no war, no political strife, no famine or pestilence running rampant through the streets – just one world united under pumpkin spice, the way our almighty pumpkin gods intended humanity to live.

Now doesn’t that sound nice???

The post Pumpkin Spice Is Delicious and You’re a Moron If You Disagree appeared first on Just Laugh.

Enter The Classic STOP Sign

Eight sides, red and white, with big, bold letters that make it pretty clear what the driver’s response is expected to be. Millions of these things exist on roads and in parking lots throughout the country and they all look exactly the same, yet far too often do I encounter other drivers who act as if that very moment when they’re driving by this mysterious sign is the first time that they’ve come across it in their entire lives!!!

And it’s not like the sign demands a lot from you.

It’s not saying that you have to stop FOREVER – just for a few seconds – commercials in front of cat videos on YouTube last longer than the interruption into your day caused by the average stop sign.

…but no…

You can’t be bothered to stop your 2,000-pound death machine for even a few seconds, even if to ensure the safety of your fellow drivers who were merely on their way to pickup a well-deserved Slurpee after a particularly stressful day.

Whatever you’re doing is more important than that.

More important than my Slurpee???

Fuck you.

For those of you assholes who think your yoga class or grandmother’s funeral is more important than my cherry-flavored refreshment on a hot, summer’s day, here’s a quick list that I’ve put together to help refresh your memory on what you’re supposed to do when this weird, red sign pops up into your view behind the wheel…

1. STOP
2. Even if you don’t see anybody coming – STOP
3. Even if it’s three o’clock in the morning – STOP
4. Even if the guy in front of you already stopped – STOP
5. Even if you’re in labor with a billy goat – STOP
6. JUST FUCKING STOP

It’s literally the first thing they teach you in Driver’s Ed. Class, possibly after “This is a car…” if you were in the slow group. I don’t care if you’re sixteen or sixty-five or Italian or functionally retarded – don’t cruise through stop signs like they were erected for us other drivers, but not you.

Your billy goat is not more important than my Slurpee.

The post A Primer on Stop Signs appeared first on Just Laugh.

A review was published by Northwestern University this week citing that despite a disgusting rise in popularity in recent years, there are no proven health benefits to a recently un-pregnant woman consuming her own placenta with a glass of Chianti on a cool, summer’s night.

Chianti or maybe a nice Merlot … what does one pair with a fresh, bloody placenta, anyways???

And really, if you’re open to chowing down on your own used placenta, why stop there?! You’ve got two kidneys and you only need one. Hell, the appendix is one that we don’t even need – I wonder what that tastes like! How about the pancreas??? Sure, it’s a fun word to say and all, but what has your pancreas ever really done for you?!

New age pregnant moms get away with some crazy stuff when they’re carrying, but I think somebody needs to stop and draw the line somewhere…

Acupuncture? Whatever – poke all the holes you want.

Water births? It’s never too early to start with swim lessons!

Eating a bloody placenta to absorb leftover nutrients and stave off postpartum depression? NO. NO. FUCKING NO.

If you need nutrients, grab a multivitamin from the grocery store.

If you’re feeling sad, grab a pint of Ben & Jerry’s from the grocery store … but note that they don’t make it in Pasteurized Placenta, so stop being weird and deal with your depression like a normal person!!!

They say that “other mammals do it all of the time.”

Sure.

Your pet dog will eat its own shit from time to time if you’re not paying attention, too – is that really the level of scrutiny that you want to hold yourself to?!

The bottom line is, you’re a parent now and it’s time to start acting responsible. That begins with not eating your own organs … because it’s fucking disgusting.

Seriously.

The post Eating Placenta Confirmed “Fucking Disgusting” appeared first on Just Laugh.

Now actual injustices aside, the go-to joke from this headline seemed to be – “What kind of a person caters pizza at their wedding, anyways?!”

And I’m here to tell you that after attending more than enough weddings myself, there are definitely couples who should consider serving pizza at their weddings instead of the carefully laid-out plans that they’ve documented in $19.95 wedding binders that they’ve purchased for the express purpose of “planning” what they intend to subject their guests to for the 2 – 4 hours of their lives that can never again be reclaimed.

I’ve been to a wedding that served french fries on the buffet line.

I’ve been to a wedding that was catered by Golden Corral … because apparently that’s a service they offer to bring their shitty buffet to you on the most important day of your life!

These are the people that pizza wedding catering was made for – not folks who are decent enough to serve a delightful array of canapes and Swedish meatballs that make sitting through their god-awful dedication of love remotely tolerable. For weddings that feature dishes of salmon and tilapia, braised beef tips and stuffed chicken marsala, pizza catering need not apply, but if you’re planning your shindig and find yourself seriously debating that $7.99/plate chicken parm food product, you’re the type of person who would be better off picking up a half dozen supremes at the local pizza joint and just calling it a day.

I don’t care if the bride’s favorite dish is Kraft Macaroni & Cheese just like Mom used to make or the couple has to eat ramen for the three months preceding their wedding to pay for the venue. There are some things that simply don’t belong at a wedding, and pizza catering was created by God himself to serve as an alternative to whatever other ridiculous food options the bride and groom … well, mostly the bride … thinks that she can get away with.

If shrimp and scallops are out of budget and assorted cheeses and rolled up deli meats are too high-class, skip unveiling the party sub for your main course and just order in delivery instead. As long as you’re not gay and trying to order from that place in Indiana, your guests will be much happier with pizza anyways…

The post Maybe Some Couples SHOULD Serve Pizza at Their Weddings!!! appeared first on Just Laugh.