What is you?

Your smile. Like a dream. A disgusting dream. Of whores and clowns and whiteness together and all the infinite blackness forever at last. The marriage of hallucination and the scream. The scream of mine to which there are only answers and the question is hidden. Guess when this next sketch is set?

The 80s!

A car pulls up outside the building and out pour policemen. They storm into the building shouting, "We must find it". Cut to an empty room.

[Frank enters]

Frank: This room. Ah yes. I remember it from the dreams.

Gordon: Tell us, Frank. What else can you see?

Frank: [closing his eyes] I see the wall. It...it's a fake. Push into it.

Gordon moves over to the wall. He pushes it and it is squashy like jelly. He is repulsed.

Gordon: You bastard Frank.

Frank: [shoots Gordon] You k-k-killed her, Gordon!

Gordon: Out of love Frank. Out of love.

Frank: Noooooooooooooooooooooo

AND NOW IN FRENCH

[Frank entrée]
Frank: cette salle. Ah oui. Je me souviens du rêve.

Gordon: Dites-nous, Frank. Que pouvez-vous voir?

Frank: [fermer les yeux] Je vois le mur. Il ... c'est un fake. Poussez en elle.

Gordon se dirige vers le mur. Il pousse et il est moelleux comme de la gelée. Il est repoussé.

Gordon: Salaud Frank.

Frank: [pousses Gordon] Vous kk-tuée, Gordon!

Gordon: Par amour Frank. Par amour.

Frank: Noooooooooooooooooooooon

You just got culture'd.

I only beat you

Because I love you? Well if that was the case I'd beat you harder.

Because I love you so much. Anyway, Fenghar is on my ass because he's bored and wants readings or some shit. FUCK YOU I'LL WRITE SCRIPTS IF I WANT TO IT JUST HAPPENS THAT I DO

Spiderman: Hello, citizen. How may I be of service?

Citizen: Hi, I guess. Why are you asking if you can be of service.

Spiderman: The bus is taking a while to get here. (He is booming all of this like a shouty man. Like in that advert. Cillet bang. He is shouting like him.)

Citizen: Yes.

Spiderman: So I wondered if I could be of service.

Citizen: I don't mean to sound rude, but who do you think you are? Not like in an accusatory way, but I actually want to know.

Spiderman: I'm Spiderman!

Citizen: But, you're just wearing a suit.

Spiderman: Oh Shit! I'm not in my costume? Oh shit shit shit.

Citizen: Yeaahhhhhhhh...

Spiderman: [Swings away on his web]

Citizen: Phew, he didn't realise I'm Superman.

Superman: That's because you're not. [Incinerates Citizen with a laser blast from his crotch, because crotches are hilarious]

THAT HAD POPULAR CULTURE IN you love that you whore you love it so much

can you hear that? Someone is coming up the stairs as I write. They are behind me about to stab me and instead of running I am documenting this event.

The guy has stabbed me in the gut, it is actually quite painful. I am going to click publish post now, could whoever reads this call the police, and possible an ambulance.

Could you stop crying please?

Adam: Please. You're scaring the lemurs.

Amy: I can't help it.

Adam: Really? Because you could just...you know. Stop.

Amy: It's a disease. I cry all the time, except when I would normally cry.

Adam: How did you catch it? Is it like a sex thin-

Amy: No

Adam: So how

Amy: It's a sex thing.

Adam: Oh shit do I have it now?

Amy: But we haven't had sex.

Adam: Haven't we?

Turns out they have, because all this time we've been doing close-ups on their faces and it turns out they were fucking!

BLOWS YOUR FUCKING MIND

Superhero Tiem lololol deliberate typo

Window man was just an ordinary window salesmen, until one day he was attacked by bees. He died later that day from the bee attack.

But the time-frame which we are discussing is not later that day. We are discussing mid afternoon, where his delusions taught him to think he was at the height of his power, when in fact he was in a coma. I may have just revealed the ending but if you could forget that I had that would be just great.

Window-Man: I...I saw him die. He fell off the bridge just as I was crossing. I could have saved him.

Emma: How, Window-Man? How could you have saved him? Your powers are not that strong!

Window-Man: Aren't they? [He kills Emma to demonstrate his power] Noooooo what have I done? How truly ironic.

Enter Bees

Window-Man: Fuck you bees! [He opens up a window into the soul of the bees and they see that the true enemies are themselves. They proceed to sting each other] Fuckin' bees.

Window-Man begins to patrol the town, searching for crime to prevent. Then a man made of infinity wanders in and destroys Window-Man.

BUT NOT REALLY BECAUSE IT WAS A COMA ALL ALONG.

or was it?....

Race Car Drivers

Listen this one we're just gonna roll with it. We're gonna take a smooth dive and also I'm going to start regularly updating proppers and that.

Zoom! A formula one car drives past. Followed by several more, but they're not as loud as the first one because they're not as good drives as "RACER COOL". Who is Racer Cool?

No one knows.

Anyway, Racer Cool and his car go past the finish line, he does a lap of honour and then gets out of his car. He gets on a waiting motorbike and arrives at a posh party. He takes off his racing clothes and he is wearing a tuxedo. He takes off his helmet for the first time and we see that it is the Prime Minister, but we don't know this because no one has called him it yet, but just wait and it will happen. He goes inside.

Party-man: Hello, Mr Prime Minister. Or should I say Tom?

Tom: Yeah, call me Tom.

Party-man: We were just watching the racing. Racer Cool won again. If only we knew who he was.

Tom: If only. [Takes off his shades. He's wearing shades by the way, but not now.]

Party-man: Yeaaaaaah. Would you like a er-

Tom: I already ate.

Party-man: Good-good. [long pause] What did you have?

Tom: Humble pie.

The Who play like in CSI.

Party-man: Does that mean you're humble? I thought that phrase means you got something wrong.

Tom: I couldn't really think of a cool food right then and there.

Party-man: That's um...it uh...yep, coming!

Tom: [Looking at the viewer] No one called him. [A tear rolls down his cheek]

Well that's that. It's been a while since I wrote a script as I went like that, and I'm pretty sure they're of a better quality when I think of them first. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed because otherwise you are closer to death, but not really because a couple of minutes here or there hasn't done anything, and if you hadn't read this perhaps you would have been run over by a bus, but now that you have read it the bus has already gone past.

I just saved your life.

Okay, tonight you will witness the first post for a long time without any gay sex in at all. In fact it will be hetero friendly and include some bits about runners running a race. Race? Why that sounds like excellent fun.

Commentator: And he goes round the first bend, still in pole position.

2nd Commntator: Is he so fast because he's black?

Commentator: Um, what?

2nd Com: It's a simple question.

Com: No. Other reasons.

2nd Com: Okay. That was a racism test and you scored pretty low. Well done.

Com: Phew. I did think it was one of those tests. They just get your friends to do them?

2nd Com: No, John. I'm actually a racism inspector who went deep undercover to investigate various people. Everyone I'm friends with will get a racism test or has already undergone one.

Com: What about your wife?

2nd Com: She's not my real wife.

Com: Oh, so we're not really friends.

2nd Com: How could I be friends with you? You're asian.

See? A little twist at the end there that makes for hilarious comedy that isn't afraid to cross boundaries and also make predictable jokes.

War

Is it good for things? No, said a famous man once, but I don't know any famous people and I think that was a song anyway. Ooh la la, dismissing things just because they were in a song. Well people don't always agree with what is in a song anyway. They just put it in because it rhymes like, I found some apples in a crate, Cuban-style communism is pretty great.

Something like that could happen and then you get called the communist guy and they throw rocks at you in school, but enough about my school days. It's time for everyone loves, comedy about war.

Private: I hear tomorrow we are to die.

Captain: Not for certain, but...well most likely.

Private: We go against their bullets! How can we hope to live? I am a man, and man is flesh and bullets are of metal, unfeeling, uncaring metal.

Captain: We can...we can only hope.

Private: Of course sorry. I forgot myself. [puts on jester hat] Who knows what time it is?

All: We don't know!

Private: Mr Jam time!

He does some juggling and stuff. He is just finished when he is shot.

Captain: My love!

Other Private: You were gay?

Captain: Um, I'm on this blog. Of course I'm gay. The writer substitutes jokes for homo.

Other Private: Oh yeah AND I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I TOO AM GAY.

Captain: I wish I was on TV.

John: Hey I wish I wrote for TV.

Captain: Look it's John. Why do you make me gay?

John: Because it's HILARIOUS.

See there was some self-deprecation there, and that's because if you can't laugh at yourself because you're a terrible writer what can you do? Nothing. Nothing is what you can do because you're a fat useless failure.

Get a job.

Calm Down There Horseboy

Alright, before we start the sketch I'm going to do the bit where I talk about things and you listen for no real reason. Well read. Not listen. LOVE ME

Arnold: Woah there, boy. What's the problem?

Horse: Neigh, neigh.

Arnold: The well?

Horse: Neigh.

Arnold: I'm not buying you another well. You barely use the one I got you last Christmas.

Horse: Neigh neigh neigh.

Arnold: You don't even buy me anything. I don't see what I owe you.

Horse: Neigh.

Arnold: You've only saved my life 4 times at most. And in return I haven't made you into glue when you lost that race.

Horse: [BEGINS TO CRY]

Arnold: Alright then. You can have that well.

See it was about horses and gifts. It has so much meaning and depth and I can tell you just love me for my body.

Peace out, homies.

YO

Throw it down. This is the mad shit.

It's called stream of consciousness. It's when you write and just throw things out there. Fish. Yeah. That was for you fans of random comedy. Which I think is you know alright. Here's something else for you fans of random comedy.

KILL YOURSELVES. With them gone this party can get started properly. Because they're probably 13 years old and fucking stupid. Oooh swearing. Aren't you grown up, John.

Man in street: [throwing eggs] Take that, society!

Other guy: What are you doing?

Man in street: I'm throwing eggs at society.

Other guy: Well aren't you a part of society?

Man in street: No I just throw eggs.

Other guy: May I join you? I've always loved throwing eggs.

Man in street: That's actually the real reason I do this. I don't mind society, I just like throwing eggs.

Montage of them throwing eggs in the park. Then in the cinema, at the zoo, finally in Paris.

Other guy: Oh, Steve. I think I'm...well in love with you.

Man in Street: Nick?

Other guy: Will you marry me, Steve?

Man in Street: I think too many of these sketches end in gay marriage, Steve.

Other guy: Well cohabitation then.

There see how FUCKING FUNNY that was. You're probably FUCKING LAUGHING from all the jokes.

Except there weren't any jokes. This is a serious piece, about society. See, we all like throwing eggs, and some of us enjoy sodomy, but society is evil and needs to be destroyed.

BYE

Super Slash Fic

Captain Picard enters the room. He looks pissed, but in the angry sense, not the drunk sense.

Riker: Hey, man. What's up?

He holds out his hand as if for a hi-5. They do, but Riker holds on for a bit too long.

Picard: I'm just so angry. The aliens aren't co-operating.

Riker: I know a cure.

They kiss, and then Picard starts to do Riker in the bum. You can imagine this sequence yourself I reckon, so we'll just skip to the end of the encounter.

Picard: Man that was some good sex.

Riker: Yes.

I think I am pretty good at writing gay fan fic as you have just seen. I didn't really watch Star Trek that much so who knows what I could do if I was more familiar with the characters?

Anyway I reckon this blog is getting more updates, because writing is for cool guys, unlike unemployment which is for people who can't find a job.