You Can Skip Ad in Five Seconds, But Why Would You?

Here's why, by percentage:

                                                                                       

7.5% - People who skip ad in five seconds because it makes them feel gutsy even though they still sleep with a night light.

5.5% - People who skip ad in five seconds because there is no Premium Option  to skip ad in four seconds.

16% - People who skip ad in five seconds because to the best of their ability to  determine in five seconds of watching there are not going to be any tits in the ad. 

13% - People who skip ad in five seconds because it is narrated by Susan Sarandon who refused to support Clinton. Happy Now, BITCH? 

2.5% - People who skip ad in five seconds because they have to pee. 

2.7% - People who skip ad in five seconds because it is an ad for Applebee's and you do not believe anyone has ever said "Y'know, there's an Applebee's a couple of blocks from my new house; I'm gonna be Eating Good in the Neighborhood!" 

0.3% - People who skip ad in five seconds because Jesus Christ has returned to Earth ushering in the Second Coming, the Apocalypse, and the End of Times and the ad isn't very interesting anyway.

2% - People who skip ad in five seconds because it is an ad for Scientology and Scientology just ain't any fun anymore without Leah Remini. 

7.4% - People who skip ad in five seconds because they do not want to become any more sexually transfixed by Mike Rowe than they already are. 

8% - People who skip ad in five seconds because they also skip to my Lou.

8% - People who skip ad in five seconds because it is almost time for shul.

16% - People who skip ad in five seconds because they have been commanded to skip ad in five seconds by Lord Sandor, the Ruler. 

8.5% -  People who skip ad in five seconds because given the luck they have had throughout their entire lives there is just no way there are going to be tits in the ad, even if they did watch it all the way through.

0.7 % - People who skip ad in five seconds because what are you going to do about it, Pilgrim?

0.3% - People who skip ad in five seconds because Jesus Christ has returned to Earth ushering in the Second Coming, the Apocalypse, and the End of Times and even though they are Jews just like us, why not check it out? 

24% - People who skip ad in five seconds because they are impatient assholes.

.2 % - People who skip ad in five seconds because a sexual partner is waiting for them. In other words, not you.

Note: Total of percentages above may not equal 100% because of rounding and very poor math skills.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The World's Only Singing Bird (FF)

©Luther Siler
FF-Flash Fiction

Henry Squawkster was disillusioned, dejected, and half passed out on the floor of his backstage dressing room.

"I cannot do the act as the World's Only Singing Bird one more time," thought Henry. I cannot face another audience! Every day's an endless stream of cigarettes and magazines ..."

"Get up and get yourself together!" barked Henry's manager, Herbert Cohen. "The audience is depending upon you."

Cohen shoved Henry onstage with his guitar. Near feverish with booze and exhaustion, Henry gazed through the wire mesh fence into the audience of calico, Siamese, and alley cats, all licking their chops.

"If only I could perform in front of an audience of humans," muttered Henry, "instead of this damn social media world of cats!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, Henry tawt he taw a puddy tat and he did, he did taw a puddy tat!  A whole audience full of them too. True, Henry has a lot of fans, but most of them are fans of his flavor, not his musical favorings.

Henry hitting the bottom is what I saw this week in the picture prompt above as part of the Friday Fictioneers Weekly Traveling Variety Show & Concert. Offerings of the other Friday Fictioneers are available by buying your ticket, taking your seat, and clicking here.

Good for Henry, he made it through another performance. No, Henry, don't give autographs!

Help! I'm Being Stalked By Joseph R. Blank

Online Advertising?  I wonder what that's all about.

Hey, nice suit!

It was plain as the nose on my face, which by all accounts is way more than exceedingly plain. My navy blue sport coat which I'd owned for many years had developed a moth hole in the left shoulder of such magnitude it seemed as if the moth had seized upon the sport coat first thing following sundown on Yom Kippur.

Yep, my sports jacket needed replacement, and so I looked online to the site of a well-known and respected men's clothing store in my area known as Joseph R. Blank.  And indeed, Joseph R. Blank was having a sale on sport coats, with selected jackets as low as $50 as long as you also bought a matching pair of suspenders with special design resembling emojis having sex. 

I went to Joseph R. Blank that very day and did secure a nice blue sport coat which fit me well and even complimented the nose on my face. Mission one and done.  I thought.

Later that day I went on Facebook, and there in the right hand column was an ad for Joseph R. Blank.  "What a coincidence,” I thought.  

"NECKTIE SALE AT JOSEPH R. BLANK!  Three neckties for $10 provided one is striped, one has a stain, and the third frankly doesn't suit you!" 

Amazing!  Oh, well, I wanted to check something on Wikipedia, and so I clicked out of Facebook and over to the America's favorite free encyclopedia.

"And so, Hitler marched into the Sudetenland and there he found ...."

"70% OFF SALE AT JOSEPH R. BLANK!   Suits, Sport Coats, Pants, Shirts, Any Other Article of Clothing that Might Yet be Invented!"  

What the ....?!! 

I clicked over to a site called "Who Unfollowed Me On Twitter," which shows you what crass & unfeeling tweeps have cut you loose lately.  There I discovered that, unlike the twitterers listed on the site, apparently following me for life was .... 

"JOSEPH R. BLANK! SALE ON SUITS!  Buy one men's suit for regular price, get another for only one pint of blood!"  

In the days and weeks that followed, Joseph R. Blank followed me like Mary's Little Lamb.  It was no coincidence:  I was being targeted, stalked. Who was this Joseph R. Blank?  What did he really know about me?

"Dear Overage Balding Boomer," the email began." While there's only so much that clothing can do for the likes of you, THERE'S A SALE ON SOCKS AT JOSEPH R. BLANK!" 

Now the Joseph R. Blank ads appeared anywhere and everywhere.  On YouTube, on my desktop, on my screensaver, in pornography, in the sky above, in my breakfast cereal, on the faces of people on the street, in my fitful tortured dreams!

“WAKE UP, PERRY! JOSEPH R. BLANK is having a sale on polo shirts! Buy three polo shirts and get a free polo pony!

The internet has majorly changed marketing as we know it. It used to be we could turn off television commercials and/or decline to read the ads in newspapers and magazines, but now advertising tracks us down like Colombo. The only hope is that this strategy will ultimately backfire, advertisers will get the message, and finally we'll get some relief.

I hope you're listening, Joseph R. Blank! 

Or better yet I'll tell you in person at your store this afternoon.  Those sexy emoji suspender ads are really starting to appeal to me!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(The name of the actual establishment referenced in the piece above has been slightly changed to protect the guilty.) 

And I'd like to welcome four new followers to the blog: Eve Gaal @EveGaal, Kate Konigisor @KateKonigisor, Deb Stewart @DeborahStewart, and Ilil Arbell @ILILARBEL. Thank You, Guys! The usual riches and emoluments to follow.

PC CalamityTimesThree

I finally got around to replacing my old laptop, and it was certainly more than time.

Manufactured during the Truman Administration, it came with a screen saver featuring Lassie and Timmy, kept flashing the error message "what is this internet anyway?" and froze up more frequently than my last girlfriend. Finally it gave out once and for all, emitting a horrid stench as if a skunk had curled up and died inside of it, which is I think pretty much what actually happened.

So the next day I went to my local computer store and purchased me a gleaming new HP Corei5.  It was sleek and powerful, the ultimate technological tool to render my humor so witty and razor sharp as to induce riotous laughter even in individuals as totally devoid of a sense of humor as the writers of HBO's The Brink.  

But I had not reckoned on PC Calamity Times Three. 

As anyone on the Internet knows, coffee is the beloved patron saint of all writers. Coffee heightens alertness, unleashes the creative spirit, and propels you to the most wonderful time you can ever hope to have in the bathroom without anyone else being present. 

So with my 16 ounce cup of Wawa java by my side, I was fast and furiously knocking out my latest comedic gem when an errant hand gesture smacked the coffee cup and sent its steaming contents sailing through the air onto the keyboard of my brand new computer.  When the tirade of epithets was over, I began to type once more but some of the letters stubbornly refused to appear. 

I struggled to type out a sentence that materialized as if it were a puzzle from Wheel of Fortune several turns away from being solved. Unless I could figure out how to write every document from now to the end of my existence on the planet without use the letters "t, w, d, v, and b," professional intervention would be in order.   

One.  

About a week after I plunked down $200 for a new keyboard, I found myself trying to access a website that simply would not download. I googled a possible fix for it and fortunately quickly found a site called "Handy Fixes for Sites that Don't Download for Naive Morons."

"Great," I said aloud, "I've solved this problem like a champ!"

Totally bypassing the curious nature of the site's frequent use of the expression "alot," I downloaded the proffered software and found myself with a strange new toolbar across the top of the screen, notable in its frequent use of the expression "alot." 

Among other things, the malware I'd downloaded kept urging to me to buy a shipment of iguanas from New Guinea.

Two.

The malware removed to the tune of $200, I was in a hurry one day to get to a crucial meeting about "nothing important at all" when my foot caught on a cracked and raised section of sidewalk.

Like the contents of a steaming hot cup of java smacked by an errant hand, I went sailing through the air onto my rear end and onto a nearby plot of grass graced by a nearby pile of dog doo-doo. 

I was unhurt, but my PC screen now appeared half a dozen shades darker than it was supposed to be, creating an ominous forbidding atmosphere as if any minute a tornado was about to begin swirling across my latest blog post about Dracula done as a modern epistolary novel, which no one would read anyway.

Three.

All right, I caught a break here.  A new screen only cost $125.

And that's my little tale about my PC Calamity Times Three.  Yes, I need to learn how to be more careful with such sensitive and important equipment as my new HP Corei5, but I can take comfort in the knowledge that bad things come in threes. So, as we all know, nothing more can possibly.....

OMG, what's that horrid stench!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"To Gwen," A Facebook Tale

Like many of you, occasionally I find myself in the mood to seek out folks I've known in the past on Facebook and see if I can reconnect with them. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, and only occasionally do you wind up with a restraining order. 

I was in such a mood last Thursday, and one of the people I thought about was a girl named Gwen Grisbane who used to date a friend of mine, Bill Kirschbaum. I always thought she was kind of a cool person, so I decided to type her a brief friendly message and see if we could hook up again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi, Gwen,

This is Perry Block, remember me?  We were in a few classes together in college and for a while you dated a friend of mine, Bill Kirschbaum.

Well, how are you? I was looking up some old - I mean, former - friends and acquaintances on Facebook and you came to mind. I always thought you were kind of a cool person, and I usually enjoyed myself when I was around you, which I guess was not as often as I might have liked.

So, did you ever become an actress?  Bet you didn't know I saw you in every performance of every play you were ever in at school, including Mourning Becomes Annoying and The Glass Menage-a-Trois.  You were always the best actor on the stage, especially in the scenes in which there were no other actors on the stage. I still have all the play programs you signed for me at home. Under glass. 

Do you remember when we were in D.C. Balin's Shakespeare class together?  I always liked it when you sat near me and I could gaze freely at your flawless profile and full sensual lips. The day you read from Romeo and Juliet you took my breath away, and I didn't get it back until a couple of weeks later! 

I have some wonderful memories of you, Gwen. Remember when a bunch of us went to Atlantic City together one summer's day in 1970?  I can still see you emerging from the ocean that magical afternoon, your blond hair flashing in the sunlight and your dazzling blue eyes bedeviling everyone they beheld. The droplets of ocean water clung to your supple amber skin like an army of ardent lovers, caressing and adoring your every pore. 

You were like a Botticelli angel, Gwen! An angel with a warm caring nature, a knock-out sense of humor, and a heart as big as you made my penis every time I was around you!

Oh, my Gwen!  Can I finally call you "my Gwen?" I so longed to call you that during the cherished time I knew you, but had not the courage to speak! You were more beautiful than Cleopatra, Helen of Troy, and Scarlett Johansson combined, but combined as just one person, not three people stuck together with six arms and six legs and three vaginas.

I love you, Gwen!  Let me shout it to the rooftops, or at least to the aluminum siding, I'm not that good at shouting! I will spend the rest of my life doing nothing but striving to make you happy, showering you with love and devotion, and never letting your Netflix subscription lapse.

Till that moment that our lips meet and hearts beat as one, dearest Gwen!!!

Perry

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My destiny at last! I frantically began searching Gwen Grisbane's Facebook page for some news of my beloved - a picture, a history, a life that was waiting to be transformed by me, the one man who was born to love her! 

I found a post dated May 16, 2012. It read:

So delighted I have finally come out!  Misty and I are off for Tuscany and will not return. Nor will I return to Facebook. Goodbye.

Oh. Gee. I really wanted to hook up again with Gwen Grisbane.

She was kind of a cool person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
   

The Adventures of Super Ass, Internet Breaker!

On the set of the cable reality show "Keeping Up With the Kardashians." Kim Kardashian is seen alone in her room.

Kim: This is terrible! (beginning to cry) I was promised they would not show my breasts! Then they print these awful pictures that were meant just for my husband, Usher!

Director:  Kim, that's Kanye West.

Kim: (crying hysterically) Kanye Whatever!  What do they think I am, some kind of blatant and shameless publicity seeker?!  I swear as God is my witness I will never pose naked again!

Director: And that's cut!  Kim, that was wonderful!  How did you manage to bring out the tears in that scene?

Kim: I thought about the fact that some people in the remotest areas of the four corners of the world have never yet seen my tits, and I just lost it! 

Director: Don't worry, Kim. Someday they will. Someday they will.

Kim:  Look! Overhead!

Director:  What is it? That beam of light in the sky?

Kim: It's the Ass Signal! To the Ass Pole!

Kim grabs a bucket of skin oil and ducks into her dressing room as she begins to pull down her pants. The scene shifts to the downtown hotel room of famed comedian Bill Cosby, where Cosby is seen with a young model named Samantha. 

Cosby: Hey, hey, hey,  Samantha!  Let me mix you my special drink.

Samantha: That would be nice, Mr. Cosby.

Cosby:  It's called the Cosby Cock-tail.  It's aptly named.   

Samantha: Bottoms up, Mr. Cosby.

Cosby:  Let's hope so, hey, hey, hey!  

Samantha: Gee, I never had a bubbling drink like this before. 

Cosby:  So then Fat Albert was running down the street in North Philadelphia and he said "throw me the ball" but then he bumped into Old Weird Harold and Old Weird Harold and Fat Albert decided to go the corner store to buy gum, but Fat Albert said that gum would stick to the ball and Old Weird Harold .... 

Samantha:  I'm beginning to get drowsy, Mr. Cosby.

Cosby:  The drugs! They must be starting to work.

Samantha:  It isn't the drugs, Mr. Cosby, it's your boring totally unfunny monologue. I can't fight it, my eyes are closing!

Cosby:  Either way, hey, hey, hey!

Cosby begins advancing on Samantha as she falls to the ground.  Suddenly the window shatters and in flies a huge well-oiled ass, with a big red S on its thighs!

Cosby: Oh, no!  It's  Super Ass, Internet Breaker!  

Super Ass: Hello, Cos. Long time, no see. 

Cosby:  What are you doing here, Super Ass?

Super Ass: Your behavior is despicable, Cos.  I've come to stop it! 

Cosby: You mean doping and ravishing young girls?

Super Ass: No, you idiot, I mean getting too damn much attention on the Internet!  Some people are actually posting about you instead of me!

Cosby: Stay back, Super Ass, or I'll blow the Internet sky high with further revelations!

Super Ass: You don't scare me, Cosby! Prepare to die! On the Internet, that is.

Super Ass knocks Cosby to the ground, flies to the sleeping Samantha and snatches her up,  and carries her to safety.  

Super Ass:  See, Cos?  Now you've done nothing disgusting tonight. Nothing to post about.

Cosby:  (seeing the benefit) That's right.  That's .... good!

Super Ass:  Next I'll travel into the past and undo every other sexual outrage of yours so there'll be nothing notable about you in 2014 except your liver spots.  

Cosby: Gee, thanks Super Ass!  Hey, hey, hey!

Super Ass: Don't mention it, Cos.  Removing a pathetic old pervert like you as a rival in my attempt to Break the Internet is my pleasure! 

Super Ass flies into the sky, off for her next Internet Breaking adventure! 

On-Lookers from the Street: 

Look up in the sky!

It's Absurd! 

It's a Shame!

It's ....

 Super Ass, Internet Breaker!  

Have you posted about her today?

The End (no pun intended)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Biggest Douche on Earth?

Dr. Lewitzky (center front) and his team;

Have they discovered the biggest douche on Earth?

News Item --- If you live long enough, you'll find out something that stops you in your tracks, curls your hair (even if you don't have any), and makes you question your sanity.  Such was the case this past week when a team of researchers from the University of Havertown PA discovered a blogger living just outside Philadelphia who has earned no renown whatsoever, not made millions of dollars,  and barely even gotten any women!

"The discovery of  the dismally unpopular blog Perry Block- Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute and its author Perry Block ranks with that of the first cave paintings found in France," said Dr. Lance Lewitsky, head of the research team in presenting his findings last Thursday in Las Vegas before the annual convention of the International Association of Bloggers with Castles in Spain. 

"The only three things thought to be certain in this world were death, taxes, and fame and riches for blog writers," continued Dr. Lewitsky.  "The existence of Perry Block throws that all out the window!" 

Studies have repeatedly shown that bloggers become famous and earn millions of dollars within the first six months of starting a blog. The only exception  prior to the discovery of the woeful Mr. Block is that of  Myrtle Crosshair of Sibly, North Dakota who began a blog in early 2011 dedicated to her love of belly button lint and by year's end had earned only about $600,000 and appeared multiple times only on Leno!   However, that was largely because Letterman and Kimmel hadn't yet gone to the popular "All Blogger" guest format commonplace on most TV talk shows these days. 

"But this Perry Block guy," reiterated Dr. Lewitsky, "has been writing a humor blog for almost four years and has virtually no readers, hasn't made a dime, and has only nailed six or seven women based on the blog, only three of which could be reasonably described as smoking hot!" 

Professor Lewitsky contends that  Mr. Block may be the biggest douche living on the planet. Ironically, fame may yet come to Mr. Block as a TV movie ridiculing him is said to be in the works, and the difficult search is on for an untalented and goofy-looking actor to play the loser.   

For his part,  Mr. Block could  not be reached for  comment and is said to be in seclusion. And who could blame him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Tabby Tabbers     

Just look at my human Clarence Weinblatt sleeping so peacefully and beautifully. Couldn't you just eat him up? Humans fill our lives with joy, don't they?

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528  kitty kats like this

   
Purrfect Prudence  So cute!
   

Fluffmeister  Simply adorable!  
          

Crystabelle I'd love me a human just like Clarence Weinblatt!


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Purrfect Prudence

I just adopted a new human, Selena Sensual, and she loves to cuddle!  Looks like I've got me a new BFF! LOL!

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971 kitty kats like this.

 Crystabelle  So cute!

Fluffmeister  Simply adorable! 
                     

Tabby Tabbers  I'd love me a human just like Selena Sensual!

Perry Block  So cute! Simply adorable!  I'd love me a human just like Selena Sensual! (And Selena, I love to cuddle too!)


              View 167 More Comments, including 15 more by Perry Block.

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Fluffmeister 

My humans Herbie and Caspar Stillwater enjoying high spirited hijinks!  Did you two guys get into my catnip earlier?  LOL! LOL! LOL!  What crazy capers!

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9,495 kitty kats like this.

Crystabelle   So cute!

 

Purrfect Prudence  Simply adorable!                    

 Tabby Tabbers  Herbie!     Caspar     I HEART YOU BOTH!!!  .... and so on and so forth!

           View 487 more comments

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Mr. Gee Whilikers

Look, Facebookers, I know you all love your humans. I know they're all adorable.  But where is the substance?  CONTENT, KITTY KATS, CONTENT!

No likes, no comments

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note:  Perry Block was forcibly expelled from Facebook for Cats immediately following his incredibly inappropriate post above.