Right Hand to Science!

A Multi-Part Story That Is Not About Penises, by cheerwine and fredcips: Part II

Fred, dizzy, pushed himself up from the puddle of sick on the living room floor. “What happened?” he said to no one in particular. “You hooked yourself up to this pen..” squeaked a annoying voice before it was brutally cut off with a resounding ”Ahh, I remember” uttered by Fred. 

With the powerful aura of command that he is so famous for Fred jumps upon his gallant yet limber talking horse named hannaH (Not to be confused with the previous character Hannah) and strides humorlessly into the night. 

Not seven miles down the road Fred begins to hear the sounds of trumpets. Here, in the forgotten elf shire of Belfair the snowcovered pines amplify the sound of the approaching horde. Fred digs his spurs deep into hannaH’s back and forces her to ride faster. 

As Fred and his mount approach a frozen spring hannaH sniffs the as if she smells something foul. This can only mean one thing, she is menstrual and who want a menstrual horse?

Fred quickly hops down off his mount. With a sword strike to the neck, back, and knee the animal is slowly slain. As the blood drains from hannaH, the trumpets begin to grow louder. 

Fred begins to think. “If only I had some sort of advantage, a reddish suit of invincibility and invisibility perhaps” was said just before that very thing popped into existence right before Fred’s eyes. You see, Fred is wise in the ways of the world and, due to owning the powerful penis of a man, he can bend space and time to his will. Fred begins to put the suit on that he created with his mind and chuckles for a moment as he thinks to himself “Thank me that i’m the only person who has these kind of powers”. Fred then begins to fly high into the sky.

Suddenly a beep emitted from the computer inside of Fred’s brain. The artificial intelligence that Fred sent back into time to create the internet had done Fred yet another favor.

ALGORE1 DATA FEED…

NULL/NULL*Access Granted.*CON/CON 

HANNAH H.Q. — MEETING ROOM
7:34 AM
TRANSCRIPT

Hannah: How are the plans for our super soldiers going? 

Professor JK: Not well your highness, it seems that..

Hannah: I will hear no excuses.

Professor JK: AHHH AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH (Sounds of death)

FEED ENDS

Our hero, disturbed by the information that shot like heroin into his mind at faster then light speeds, flies into the horde that was tracking him earlier, this time armed to the teeth. 

Several seconds later all of the super solider prototypes were destroyed. Fred simply had to reset the core memory with a mysql attack that resulted in a system adjunct vector into prime java clouds. Cakewalk. 

Still dizzy from the puking that felt like ages ago. Fred was ready. For Revenge.

A Multi-Part Story That Is Not About Penises, by cheerwine and fredcips: Part I

Fred adjusted his massive erection and sat down to think.  Why couldn’t he be funny?  He stroked his cock and pondered, while Hannah regarded him with great amusement.  Fred was staring at Hannah’s rack.  

“I know why you’re not funny!”

“Oh, yeah?  Why’s that?” 

“It’s because you’re a man!”

“That’s sexist.”

“Perhaps.  But it’s true.”  Hannah pointed at Fred’s erection, which he gazed upon with undue pride.  ”You can’t think of anything funny right now because all the blood you would normally use to think is in your cock.”

Fred pouted.  ”Well… you’re being distracting.”

“Me?”  Hannah looked down.  She was dressed in shitty faded pajama bottoms and a purple camisole with lace trim.  She didn’t have any makeup on, and her unwashed hair was attempting to flee the premises.  

Fred nodded, his eyes locked on her boobs.

“Perv.”  Hannah pulled a hoodie on.  ”There.  Now can you write?”

Fred stared at the blank computer screen, and Hannah shoved him out of the way.  ”Go clean the dishes.  I’ll show you how it’s done.”|

—-

“You are right, Hannah,” said Fred as he looked up from his proton-enhanced nuclear induction spectroscopy machine.  ”This P.E.N.I.S. machine that is powered by human blood is quite distracting.”  With a vigor that only might suit a younger man, he removed the clips that were attached to his veins and jumped up quickly.

 “Woah headrush!” said Fred, and he knocked Hannah out of the way to look at something much cooler. “WOAH!” yelled Fred at the top of his lungs. “WOAH!” Fred yelled one final time. 

—-

“The fuck is this?”  Hannah picked up one of the wires Fred had ripped from his genitals.  It was still dripping a bit of lustful blood, like the lips of an over-excited Twilight fangirl.  One whom Fred might resemble, as he staggered into the sofa and giggled as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever done (which it may well have been).  

“Sit down!” Hannah shoved Fred onto the sofa and his face between his legs.  He seemed oddly flexible in that position, as if it were one he assumed regularly.  Our stalwart heroine brushed this off and turned back to the machine Fred had half-shoved beneath the coffee table.  

“Don’t look at that, it’s nothing,” mumbled Fred, kicking the machine further beneath the table with a hairy Hobbit-foot.

“Liar.  What the hell have you been doing to yourself?” Hannah pushed his legs back and snatched for the machine again, but Fred delivered another hefty kick.  

“Think fast!” Hannah leaped up and pulled Fred to his feet.  As he staggered around with another head rush, she grabbed the machine and read the label printed on its side.  

P.E.N.I.S.:  because too much is never enough!

You know what they say about men with big hands?  Guys from Texas?  Tall men?  Short men?  Asian men?  If you’re a modern man, you know one thing is for certain: EVERYTHING is about penis size!  That’s right, if you don’t have a big cock, you will never be successful in life.  The size of your genitals has been scientifically proven* to emanate from your every pore, and if you are less significantly endowed, you may be projecting an aura of weakness that is drastically affecting everything from your dating life, business relations, selection of mode of vehicular transportation and even your preferred size of television set.  

Our FDA approved* design has been rated the number one product on the market to increase penis size.*  Watch and the results will speak for themselves!

Hannah turned the box over, looking for the asterisked footnotes, but could find nothing.  She looked down at Fred, who was puking a purple, slightly glittering liquid on his rug. 

—  

Riff Tide

Nothing is exciting anymore. I never hear any news that surprises me. Peoples grandmothers are sucking dick openly now, that is the kind of world we live in. Sometimes I wish I lived back in a simpler time and you were able to just slap a hoe on the forehead and tell her to shut the fuck up and birth me some half clones. Wow, I certainly digressed there. Lets try this again.

Batman® has to be the gayest super hero. He has no powers. Now, granted Iron Man® has no powers but he has the Iron Man® suit. Fuck that Iron Man® suit is awesome, but Batman® has to resort to non-lethal methods. Tony Stark® the creator/operator of the Iron Man® Suit designs weapons for a living, Batman® lives at Wayne Manor® and sucks off Alfred®. The first Iron Man® suit was created when Tony Stark® found some trash and decided to use it to defeat the Nazis®, Bruce Wayne’®s parents are dead. In conclusion all the rest of the super hero’s have powers, except the Black Panther® but he is basically just a black Batman®, therefore Batman® is the gayest super hero ever. Thank you.

One time I called Walmart(fuck it with the R’s) and said that I was a black guy and yelled at them for not hiring me. I called every day at different times so I got basically everyone that worked there and got people to write stuff down about it. Then I called up Walmart’s head office and got in touch with their press department and asked to confirm a story that they had indeed discriminated and not hired a man because he was black, As this never happened they cleverly denied it. Then, I called a few days later said I was with the ACLU and we were wondering if we could meet and work out this whole not hiring a black guy problem. A meeting was set, I never went as it was in Arkansas. Sometimes I call up supermarkets and stores and tell them to throw away perfectly good merchandise because it is dangerous or tainted. I need to do something more productive with my time.

Comedy books are always really short as it is hard to write lots of really funny shit. I’d enjoy a long book of lots of medium funny shit. Perhaps I will write that one day, a medium funny book.

I want to start up a Charity, call it Fred’s Kids. Fred’s Kids will only have one goal, get my sperm into as many women as possible. Licking Lezzies, Boy Fridays, Hell even Rectal Octomoms will all receive freshly squeezed loads in the mail. Thus, making lots of little me’s that I will never meet or talk with. The End.

Fred

Cooch Full of Dollars.

This is my attempt at a romance novel. All I did was write about the ultimate female fantasy.  The thing women most dream of. 

1764 Paris, France

The moonlight shone dimly on the stone walkway as the young maiden walked briskly, though she was unaccompanied, toward her destination. As she reached the large wooden doors of the inn she had no idea of what was to greet her. Perhaps it was to be a three headed penis man? How can she defend herself from a mighty choad smuggler? The door creaked open.

A handsome and yet inbred face greeted her warmly, “Hello my fair lady my name is Allen Deepocket and I’d love you show you to my bedroom for some sex and” as the maiden cut him off with “FUCK YOU GOOD SIR? I’D RATHER SHIT ON A GLASS COFFEE TABLE!” 

And so a bet was made, as the young maiden dropped trow she began to expectorate feces. No, not shit them out in a normal manner but expel feces from her lungs. Allen Deepocket was loving it! “and now for you” Says Allen sexily.

Allen Deepocket not one to shame his namesake, pulled out his massive, thick, vein laden, engorged, erect, bill fold and began stuffing cold hard currency into her moist vagina for the next several hours. The maiden writhes on the bed with pleasure so intense that I have not the descriptive capacity to even attempt to wrangle it in with a description. In fact, she comes even closer to orgasm then that one time at summer camp when she met a black guy.

On the edge of orgasm the woman (she is now a woman) pulls off her mask and looks in the mirror. She looks surprised. As your eyes meet a thought begins to form in your tiny woman brain, the maiden… is you.

Fred

Anonymous asked: Will you submit to assimilation with the Borg collective? Remember, resistance is futile. Love, Seven of Nine.

Oh uhh. Normally when I’m done banging I get back into my blue box and fly away… but uhh. I’m just going to go over here for a second. .. yeah…

*DOOR SLAMS*

WOOOSH WOOOSH WOOOSH WOOOSH

(1 person might get this)

A Self-conscious Proposal (I’m done with long titles)

Dear Internet,

Why do humans employ such crude and cruel systems? Think about the legal structure of the world around you, the social structure, the nature of interpersonal relationships. Does the way we structure things really reflect the will to grant the most basic human needs to our fellow travelers in this dismal abyss we call existence? 

Why this intent to cause so much misery and human suffering? Are we masochists? Do billions of staving fellow human beings get us hard? Is the purpose of ten thousand children dying per hour to provide the clergy with plenty of boy corpses to fuck? 

Ha, you thought this was going to be a serious essay.

Really, I’m mostly concerned with the rules that are unfair to me. Sure, dead children do what to me what they might do to any man. I just don’t like to yell about it. 

And what do dead corpses of children do to other men? Enrage them at yet another failure of a system designed not to care. 

Now tell me this, Millions of cold vaginae go unused every year simply because the former owner is now dead, Is this really a best use of our resources? 

Do you know how many million plastic vaginae are produced? Fleshlight (A leading premium fake vage provider) has sold over 4 MILLION alone. That is factories around the globe spewing smoke in the air to create something we have for free by the millions in Africa. Just sitting there. Decaying.

So what am I proposing? In a word, necrophilia. In two, corpse fucking. Wait a second you might say, how is that sanitary? Bleach. Then with all your concerns assuaged you reluctantly pull out your penis and enter the sweet necrotic clown’s pocket.

BUT WAIT!

Suddenly the corpse begins to moan! Groan perhaps! “The dead” I say, “They live”. Your former lover begins to chew on my face. You run down the hallwall. You turn left and begin to hear the groans of thousands of no longer living fuck buddies. All off the sudden THEY CHEW YOUR PENIS OFF!

And this is why its not cool to have sex with corpses. I hope you learned your lesson internet.

Fred

Dear Internet: Part 8: Serious literary attempts abound AGAIN

Dear Internet, 

When we last left our heroes they were blasted by powerful sayain energies!  

“WHAT THE FUCK!” shouts Kirk as he bashes the head of his penis on a corner of a glass coffee table. “WHAT THE FUCK?” he roars again. Blood begins to stain the front of his regulation federation jeans. “It’s appears we are alive.” postulates a till now silent Spock. 

Spock begins to apply basic medical care to Kirk’s penis. “WHAT THE FUCK!” roars Kirk for a final time as peroxide is applied to his penis. Spock stands and removes his tri-corder from his belt, I like to mention that belts are located in the vicinity of the human penis, and begins to scan the area.

“What should we do sir?” Asks a confused hot black operator lady. “SHUT THE FUCK UP, FIRST ME AND SPOCK HAVE TO CLEAR THE PLANET OF ANY POSSIBLE THREATS TO YOU OR YOUR PERSON OR PERHAPS EVEN YOUR ANIMALS OR YOUR FAVORITE TOY, WHAT IF YOUR BEST TOY WAS HARMED? HOW DO YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN CHECK TO SEE IF THAT YOU GUYS MIGHT HAVE A TOY THAT MIGHT GET HARMED? LETTING SPOCK AND ME DO OUR FUCKINGGGGGGGG JOBBBBBBSSSS.”

Spocks tri-corder lets out electronic beeps like a native american on a highway lets out tears. “If we go north, there is slightly less glass coffee tables and Kirk is less likely to again re-injure his penis” muses a coy Spock. “North it is then!” orders Kirk. “Wait, Please” yells at the top of his lungs a defiant Spock “There is also very very thin glass coffee tables to the west, and while they will not harm our massive erect penises they will harm anyone who is a woman, or a guy from japan, or not Kirk. 

Only Kirk lives to make it to the magical midland of CoffeeTableTon with his penis intact. Magic works here, so Kirk quickly calls up a Fayblade and eleven ponies! With his wounded penis and magical Fayblade Kirk rides into the sunset.

Now we take some time out to respond a question asked by a literate person. Have I ever considered publishing? When Jesus rained death upon all the first born of Egypt, did he love all the little children?

Dear Internet: Part Seven: Serious literary attempts abound

Dear Internet,

My letters to you so far have only served as the toilet paper to my mental diarrhea, that said I believe a true showing of my literary prowess is in order. 

Story # 1 —- (In this I tired to take popular sci-fi characters to use them to teach children about the battle between evolutionists and creationists)

Jesus V.S. Science In Space

OR

I’f I had a penis, I’d use it. (For use in schools) 

“Jim, Jim, Jim, did you fall for that creationist nonsense again?” said the evil evolutionist Charles Darwin to the magnanimous captain of the most well respected ship in federation space. “Didn’t you ever think of the problem of complexity? That the entire world must of been created by something infinitely more complex than you and I, and you and I my friend are very complex creatures indeed.” said the follower of Satan to the most foolish of good sirs. “NO!” Shouted the captain. “What do you mean. No? What is your argument?” cleverly retorted the non-creationist. “FUCKING, NO! FIRST YOU TOOK OUR BLACKS AWAY AND NOW YOU BE TAKEIN’ ME JESUS” roared James Tiberius Kirk (before priceline) as he unsheathed his light saber, called upon the race of crystalline cross shaped christian nanites that flow though his veins but can only be called upon once and will never be referenced again, and texted Montgomery for a teleport. 

Safely aboard the enterprise our captain has time to think. “WWJD.” He pondered. “Call up the Papal Mainframe!” yelled Kirk, as soon as that order left his lips another gallantly strolled up and resounded “STARBURST!”. The living ship that is the enterprise with its symbiote pilot named pilot that is dimensionally transcendental, blasted into a burst of white light just before several pantak class vigilantes, Thousands of vulture droid starfighters, Two borg collectives, Fifteen Ha’tak,A million sentinels, Goku in a spacesuit, seventeen birds of prey dropping cloak on the port bow, Two MSZ-007 gundams, and most bone chilling of all, a single blue police box hurtling toward them as the universe faded to white and for an infinitely improbable second they were traveling millions of miles per parsec and came out on the other side of the universe. (16 references, I’ve linked them all for easy study of future generations)

“Fuck, that one took us really really far, Mulgrew far.” Said Kirk to Mcoy. “I’m a doctor not one of those god dam wheels you walk with and click every time you go 4 feet and you have to count the number of clicks!” retorted a burly christian man. “Did somebody ask for a Doctor?” shouted the doctor as he strode down the hallway. “We may still be in luck” whispers Kirk, “I can deal with a Peter Davison”. “Aw fuck its Baker!” Squeals Mcoy. Tom Baker confidently strides up to the god fearing Kirk and offers him a jelly bean. “I HAVE NO NEED FOR THOSE SATAN BEANS!” shouts Kirk. 

Suddenly, a loud shout is heard down the hallway. A crackle of electricity is heard and a naked Arnold Schwarzenegger brings himself down the hallway and grabs Kirk briskly “GET TO THE CHOPPER!” He yells! 

“Holy shit” Whispers Mcoy, “It’s Goku”. And he was right, None other than the king of all saiyans himself appears in the center of the room via instant transmission. “KAHHHMEEEHAAAMEEEHAAAAAA” Yells Goku louder than anyone has ever yelled before or since and shot a massive shot of saiyan power all over the faces of Kirk, Spock, Bones, Scotty, The russian, and the hot black chick. Ending their evil rain of christian terror forever.

THE END. Or is it?

Fred

Dear Internet: Part Six: The People vs Hairy Fred (In a wheelchair)

Dear Internet,

Clever titles elude me.

I shave my feet. Yes, I have hobbit feet. I can run around barefoot like you can in shoes. I am a full fledged mountain man.

I heard somewhere that if you want to master anything you need 10,000 hours of practice. 

HUMOROUS ARTICLE POWER LEVEL: 1.7/10,000

Gentlemen, here’s a tip for you. Every once in a while, turn a chick down. Don’t take every face hole, upper grundle hole, or fantastic/glorious hole (Formerly: lower taint hole) offered to your man scepter. 

Ladies, here’s a tip for you. Have a really sexy body, and fuck like your vag is stolen. 

Now that men are equal with women shouldn’t we have a period of reverse chivalry as reparations for the past few hundred years or so. I want a girl to lay her coat over a puddle for me, open doors for me, stand under my window with a boombox. That or 45 thousand blowjobs. 

I want to play magic cards. I wish people other than 14 year olds played magic cards.

The future is going to be so cool. Everything is going to be in 3D. Non-3d HD programming will look like its in black and white to our kids. “What is this gay shit?” our children will exclaim! “Faggoty ass spongebob aint even in 3D nigger dad!” They will ejaculate! (As standards erode cusswords will become part of everyday speech, even of children) (Ejaculate in this sense means to say, not to shoot loads all over your father, regardless of race) (sorry about all the parentheses) 

I wonder if humans a thousand years from now will read these words. At some point in time, in the history of our universe, These words will be considered an ancient text. What will they think of us? Perhaps they will read this is schools, “You see class this is the first time a man refered to his penis as a sperm-ejecting-meat-cleaver” and a teacher somewhere will read aloud that exact sentence about a fictional teacher reading aloud that sentence and the entire fucking world will collapse in on itself. Or something.

Fred