Archived Feghoots
1 - 50
51 - 100
101 - 150
151 - 200
201 - 250
251 - 300
301 - 350
351 - 400
401 - 450
451 - 500
501 - 550
551 - 600
601 - 650
651 - 700
701 - 750
751 - 800
801 - 850
851 - 900
901 - 950
951 - 1000
1001 - 1050
1051 - 1100
1101 - 1150
1151 - 1200
1201 - 1250
1251 - 1300
1301 - 1350
1351 - 1400
1401 - 1450
1451 - 1500
1501 - 1550
1551 - 1600
1601 - 1650
1651 - 1700
1701 - 1750
1751 - 1800
1801 - 1851
1851 - 1900
1901 - 1950
1951 - 2000
2001 - 2050
Puritan (ADULT THEME)
This is by Dave Aronson [http://www.geocities.com/davearonson]. It was published on the groaners listserv, and for us living in the Center of the Universe, it should sound familiar.
Once upon a fairly recent time, there was a puritanical family in the rural hinterlands of Massachusetts. Ma, Pa, Sis, and Bro were so poor, that they sent Bro off to The Big City, den of evil that it was, to make some money to send home.
Being a strapping young farm lad, one of the first groups of ne'er-do-wells he fell in with was a team of rugby players. This particular team, sponsored by a wealthy businessman proud of his Russian heritage, named itself after Russian royalty, the Tsars. Being nickel-less upon his arrival, Bro was a natural for the very last one, which nobody else wanted to be.
Their arch-foes were the Brigands, sponsored by Digital Equipment Corporation. So fierce was their rivalry, that in the wee hours of the morning, members of each team could often be found playing childish pranks upon the other.
After one game, Bro happened to notice what the Brigands were doing with one of their prettiest cheerleaders in their bus in the parking lot. To make a long and dirty story short, they were taking turns with her.
A few days later, while strolling through the park one evening, Bro happened to meet her.
"Gee, miss, I'm sure sorry to see what those Brigands were doing to you!"
"Huh?"
"After the game. In the parking lot. On the bus. They ought to be locked up!"
"That? Locked up? What for? That's our usual post-game party! We all like it!"
"They weren't forcing you?"
"Oh, hell no! I like it! Do you want any? I do it all, baby...."
Horrified at this suggestion, Bro could contain himself no longer, and assaulted her. Not sexually of course, because That Would Be A Sin, but "merely" battering her, and yelling assorted names at her: "Floozie! Harlot! Slut! Strumpet! Tramp! Trollop! Whore!" and so forth. Before he realized what he was doing, he had beaten her to death.
Panicking, he called up some of his rugby friends, who drunkenly, but still reluctantly, agreed to help him transport her body back to his parents' farm to dispose of it. On the way, they decided to chop up the body, put the parts in a pile, douse it with kerosene, and burn it beyond recognition.
As they were piling up the parts of the body, a young female voice rang out from the back porch of the farmhouse, "Hey, Bro! What are you doing out there?"
One of the rugby buddies gave the usual "battle cry" they used when playing nocturnal pranks on their foes, and Bro explained. The neighbors heard:
"The Tsars at night
Are Brigands' blight!
Heapin' the tart of DEC, Sis!"
Served by Austin Web Publishing, Inc.
Sponsored by search engine marketing firm Apogee Search, providers of world class paid search advertising management and search engine optimization services. Apogee Search is a division of internet marketing firm Leads Customers Growth.
Designed and maintained by Brian Combs (info@briancombs.net).
(c) 1996-2006 Alan B.
& Brian P. Combs,
All Rights Reserved