Saturday, May 8, 2010

This year, Mother’s Day is gonna be OFF THA HOOK!

Yo momma so fat, when Rome fell, she broke its fall.

Yo momma so fat, when she was abducted by Vikings, they had to swap their longship for a wideship.

Yo momma so fat, when she posed for Michelangelo, he ran out of flesh tone.

Yo momma so fat, when she was burned as a witch, Salem smelled like bacon for a month.

Yo momma so fat, when she was killed by Jack the Ripper, it took him two trips to get her liver home.

Yo momma so fat, when she landed at Ellis Island, she qualified as a “huddled mass.”

Yo momma so fat, when she went down on the Titanic, sea level rose five feet.

Yo momma so fat, when she joined MySpace, there was no space left for anyone else.

Mike Richardson-Bryan used to be a lawyer, but he’s all better now. No, really. His work has also appeared on McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, in the pages of Cracked, Stitches, and The Wittenburg Door, and recently appeared in The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2007. He lives in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada with one wife and two dogs.
 

  

Yo momma so fat, she needs a wheelbarrow to turn the other cheek.

Yo momma so fat, when she tried to board the Ark, Noah said, “Whoa, we already have two elephants.”

Yo momma so fat, after tasting the forbidden fruit, she had to cover her shame with a banana leaf.

Yo momma so fat, when she crossed the Red Sea, Moses had to open an extra lane.

Yo momma so fat, when she accepted Jesus into her heart, it took him two weeks to find his way back out.

Yo momma so fat, when she was born, the priest had to baptize her in installments.

Yo momma so fat, when she was possessed, the Devil sprained his back trying to shake the bed.

Yo momma so fat, after 40 days and 40 nights of rain, her feet were still dry.

Yo momma so fat, when she lay down at the beach, a couple of fishermen cut her open looking for some guy named Jonah.

Yo momma so fat, she had to be born again by C-section.

Notes My Mom Put in My Lunchbox

Monday

Wednesday

  

Tuesday

Thursday

Friday

Frank Ferri is a copywriter who thinks he’s funny. Visit him at ffcopy.com.

Mother's Day Mayhem


Your Mother is so slow she uses the ISA Slot and 1000KB of RAM.

Your Mother is so overweight that when she steps on the scale it says, “Sorry, we don’t do Millennium Falcons.”

Your Mother is so tremendously hirsute she makes Wolverine look like Professor X.

Your Mother is so approaching her senior years that she practices her micros on a typewriter.

Your Mother is so poverty-stricken that if we all lived in Zelda’s Hyrule, she’d have a hut in Kakariko Village.

Your Mother is so lacking in general attractiveness that the Borg refused to assimilate her.

Greg Boose is a contributing writer to The Nervous Breakdown, and has appeared on The Big Jewel, Opium, Hobart, McSweeney’s, Feathertale, in The Believer, and in other fine and unfine print and online magazines. You can read many of his online writings by going to gregboose.com. He lives in Chicago.
 

 

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