Ebola Patient Halloween

Doctor: Good news, Brad! You don't have Ebola anymore!

Brad: That's amazing! Can I leave? I want to see my girlfriend, my family, my dog!

Doctor: ... you have E-BOOOOOO-la! Happy Halloween!

Brad: Really? Are you fucking kidding me?

Doctor: Nope. In fact your quaran-scream just got extended another 21 days. But don't worry, the cafeteria has Macabre & Cheese all week!

Guy with a Hole in His Head and his Friend

Friend of Guy with a Hole in his Head: A fucking parking ticket? Jesus - I need that like a need a hole in the head.

Guy with a Hole in his Head: Dude!

Friend of Guy with a Hole in his Head: Sorry, sorry! Forgot. I mean, ya know, I need that like I need, uh, Parkinson's Disease.

Guy with a Hole in his Head: Come on man, I was diagnosed with Parkinson's last week. We talked about this.

Friend of Guy with a Hole in his Head: Ah, sorry sorry. Probably why it was on my mind... to be fair.

Lost Doonesbury from 2k4

Paul Wolfowitz: Mr. President, I'm concerned about elements from the Ba'ath Party in Southern Iraq.

GWBush: Bath party? We had one of those at DEKE! Oh man those Quinnpiac girls got wet n' wild with us. Why wasn't I invited to this bath party? Is it 'cause I don't drink anymore? I'll have O'Doul's.

Guy whose shit literally doesn't stink

"It's true, my shit doesn't stink - but I'm still a deeply flawed individual! I'm an inadequate husband and employee! Many people whose shit smells horrible are better than I am!"

Guy who buys plane tickets just to go to the airport sushi bar

Announcer: Final boarding call for flight 273 to Los Angeles... the gate has closed for flight 273, there will be no more boarding.

Guy At Sushi Bar (jokingly): Whoops, looks like I missed my flight! Again. Oh noooo.

[Guy At Sushi Bar and Sushi Chef share a laugh]

Guy At Sushi Bar: Another three yellowtails, my friend.

Sushi Chef: Wait - Los Angeles? Why don't you just get a ticket to Boston, it's 300 dollars cheaper.

Guy at Sushi Bar (no longer laughing, dead serious): Goddamnit.

Charles Schwab and His Grandson Go To Lunch

[A cute HOSTESS is at a maitre d' stand in front]

Charles Schwab (nudging Grandson like "watch this"): Reservation for 2 for Schwab. Charles Schwab.

Hostess: Alright Mr. Schwab, your table is ready!

Charles Schwab: Ahem. I'm not sure you heard me correctly: Charles Schwab.

Hostess: Uh... yes (checks reservation book) Mr. Schwab. Your table's ready. Right by the window over here.

Charles Schwab: No I'm the Charles Schwab.

Hostess: Riiight. I got that. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Schwab.

[Exit Hostess. Charles Schwab and his Grandson are seated]

Grandson: Why do you have to do that everywhere we go?

Charles Schwab (stewing): That strumpet! I'm the reason she doesn't pay ATM fees - but does she care? No. That's it - I'm shutting down her account. I'm Charles Schwab dammit! CHARLES SCHWAB!

[beat. Grandson looks at Charles Schwab, thinks he's done with his rant]

Grandson: Grandpa, Mom had this thing looked at on her arm, they said it could be cancerou--

Charles Schwab: -- maybe they don't know I'm a real person! They think "Charles Schwab" is some made-up guy like Mister Clean. Gotta talk to marketing about getting my face out there more. First thing Monday.

Bros at the Statue of Liberty

Bro #1: Dude, what's the big deal with her. She's like a 2.

Bro #2: Come on bro, she like brought liberty to all these people and shit.

Bro #1: Fine, mayyybe I'll give her a 3. Definitely not a 4. What a dog. They should re-make that shit as Kate Upton.

Old-School Dick Pic Guy

You kids, you have it easy. With your iPhones and your SnapChat, sending out a dick pic is as easy as hitting a button. 

But back in my heyday, you know what it took to send a dick pic? First you had to take the picture with a little device we used to call a CAMERA. Then you had to get in your car and drive to the one-hour photo place. And you had to wait one hour while some pimply-faced shit processed the photo of your dong. THEN, you had to get back in your car and drive to the house of the woman you were interested in, and hand it to her. Or if GOD FORBID she wasn't home, you had to write your name on the back of it and slip it under her door. But what if you didn't have a pen? THEN you know what you had to do? You had to knock on some old lady neighbor's door to ask to BORROW a pen to label your weiner. The process might take up your entire day.

We had to crawl so you could run. So yeah, think about that next time you're firing off a DP to some rando. And let's not forget my great-grandfather, who had to pay a hundred dollars (in 1880!), stand still for half an hour, wait days for the photo to be developed, and then ride a horse 50 miles to deliver HIS dick pics.

Dan's True Stories: L.A. Edition

I recently spent some time in Los Angeles, meeting with people to try to further my writing career. But those meetings were every other day and took an hour tops. So I had a shit-ton of free time. Too much free time. And not enough people to spend it with. I got very lonely. Comically lonely. The worst of it was one Saturday afternoon when my friend who I was staying with was working all day:

I'm stewing in the apartment alone when I see on Instagram that a guy who went to my school only for senior year - an Alpha-male star basketball player who I barely knew - is having a sale of his swimsuit line in Orange County, a 1.5 hr drive in weekend traffic. Fuck it, anything for a little human contact!

I hop in the car, drive through horrific traffic in stifling heat for 90 mins. Park, almost decide to call it off because I'm too beta and this plan is too weird. Finally approach the Alpha Guy, say "Dan Berger - from Dalton!" He has a look of "I don't remember this guy at all," but says "Riiiight! Crazy seeing you here, Dan."
I tell him, "Well I was driving to visit my buddy in Laguna Beach and I'm at a traffic light checking Instagram, and boom I see you're having a sale 15 minutes from there! So I figured I'd stop by."

"Awesome, man!" Alpha Guy says. We chat for a bit, I'm happy to just talk to someone I've met before, it's going well. Then he asks, "So which swimsuit do you want?"

Oh right, the socially accepted meme here is to buy one of the guy's swimsuits since I'm at his sale. I look at the swimsuits - they're $168 each! But now that I'm here and he's so alpha and I traveled all this way i'm like fuck I have to buy one. So I pick a paisley swimsuit that I really like.

"Ooooh we're out of that one in your size, buddy. And lemme check... Yeah out of it even on the website. What else do you like?"

Now I'm looking at second choice swimsuits, I find a plaid one i kind of like. "Ooh out of that one in your size too. Lemme check though... We have it online. You interested?"

I'm put to a decision: pay $168 for a swimsuit I don't really want that will have to be sent to me in New York (where I won't be for several weeks), or seem beta to this guy I barely know... and of course i whip out the credit card.

"Hey Dan since you're an old high school pal, I'll give you the friends and family discount" Alpha Guy says. Finally I'm catching a break, I think. He types something in and then asks for my card. He swipes it. I look at the receipt: it was $168. He had messed up typing in the code!

So I pointed this out to him, right? NO! I say "Dude, I gotta bounce - my buddy in Laguna Beach just texted me. But so good seeing you - can't wait to get back to New York for that swimsuit!"

BetaBro vs. AlphaBro on Halloween

Cute Girl: And who are you?

BetaBro: I'm Heisenberg! 

[No response]

BetaBro: From Breaking Bad. I even have the broken nose from when Walter intentionally got into a car accident in the hopes of stopping Hank's investigation!

Cute Girl: Never seen it.

[Enter AlphaBro]

AlphaBro: I'm kind of a dick!

Cute Girl: Hahaha, that's so funny! Isn't that funny?

BetaBro: Yeah, yeah... hilarious.

SingularityBro at a New Year's Party to ring in 2002

Partygoers: THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Cute Girl: Wow, 2002! So cool that this year's a palindrome! The last one we'll see in our lifetime

SingularityBro: Yeah, it's crazy!

SingularityBro's Interior Monologue: Maybe the last one you'll see in your lifetime, you dumbass! When the singularity comes ten years from now, only visionaries like me will be able to take advantage of it. And I'll live FOREVER! 2112, 2222, fucking 3333 - I'll see 'em all!

SingularityBro: Since it's our last palindrome year, let's make it special

(SingularityBro leans in to kiss Cute Girl. Cute Girl backs away)

Cute Girl: Whoa, whoa, I have a boyfriend.

(Cute Girl scurries over to her boyfriend, a handsome guy in a trucker hat)

SingularityBro's Interior Monologue: Eh, there'll be plenty more where she came from in the next... INFINITY years! Plus I won't be shackled to this pasty, overweight body and these unstylish clothes. Eh, maybe I should get a new sweater - I feel like this mock-turtleneck is a chick-repeller. Nah, when the Singularity comes I won't need clothes, my brain'll just be chillin' in that vat. "Come on into my vat, the water's warm," that'll be the pickup line of the future, yeah...

Scene from J. Crew

J. Crew Employee: Hey man, you find everything you were looking for?

Me: Actually I was looking for this pink gingham shirt in a size small, but I don't see any.

J. Crew Employee: Sorry about that man, I'll go check in the back. 
[J. Crew Employee heads to the back storage room]

My Inner Monologue: "Man"! I'm "man"! Not "Sir" but "man"! I've still got it - I'm young, I'm hip! Maybe that old guy at the register is "Sir" but me, I'm "man." Who knows, maybe this J. Crew Employee'll want to go to a concert with me at Music Hall of Williamsburg?! No, no, we'll go to Glasslands - much younger! Much edgier!

J. Crew Employee's Inner Monologue: I can't believe corporate is making us call these fucking lame, aging yuppie customers "man." What, so they feel cool? Pathetic. "Man" hasn't even been cool since the '90s anyway. Honestly I should just quit this shit and focus on my music. Ugh, this herb is already wearing a red gingham shirt but nooooo he needs pink too "for the Hamptons." 

[J. Crew Employee returns with a size small pink gingham shirt]
J. Crew Employee: Here you go, man.

Me: Thanks, man!

Nightmare Concerts: Baha Men Edition

Ariel's Reaction to Ariel Castro Verdict

Sweet Female Friend: It's just horrible what that Ariel Castro did to those women he locked up in his house in Cleveland - I'm glad he got life in jail without the possibility of parole, plus 1,000 years. A million years wouldn't be long enough for what he did to those women!

Ariel: My feelings exactly. Plus he's sullied the good name of Ariels around the world. So bad for the Ariel brand. I know it's a small thing, but...

Sweet Female Friend: It's true, almost at the Adolf level of bad for the name

Ariel's Inner Monologue: Actually it's GOOD for the Ariel brand because now millions of people are seeing that Ariel can be a man's name too! This is undoing years of Little Mermaid damage!!!

Ariel: So bad for everyone. So, so bad
[Ariel puts a comforting hand on Sweet Female Friend's shoulder]

Boston Marathon Bombers' Uncle

Boston Marathon Bombers' Uncle (TO REPORTERS): My nephews have brought shame on my family! And they've brought shame on the Chechen peoples! Dzokhar, that loser, must tell everything he knows to the authorities! I wish I weren't related to these two demon-brothers!

Boston Marathon Bombers' Uncle's Interior Monologue: I know it's terrible what they did, I know. But isn't it nice that these two brothers did something TOGETHER? My own two sons won't even get a cup of Starbucks together - even after I offer them gift card to sweeten the deal - and these two plot a bombing, hide out, go on wild police chase together. I'm not condoning it, I'm just saying!

Boston Marathon Bombers' Uncle (TO REPORTERS): Shame! Losers!

Blind Guy Who Asked for a Squagel

Home Health Aide: I got a sesame squagel with cream cheese just like you asked for

Blind Guy: Did they make it this morning or was it fresh out of the oven? Bagels they make twice a day but squagels sometimes only once

Home Health Aide: No you're in luck - freshly made!

Blind Guy: Fantastic - well, hand over the goods

Home Health Aide: Why don't I just feed it to you?

Blind Guy: I appreciate that, but it's really unnecessary - hand it over

Home Health Aide: Uh... oh-OK

[Home Health Aide tentatively hands over the squagell]
[Blind Guy feels around the edges of the squagel]

Blind Guy (muttering to himself): So much cream cheese on here I can barely...
[Blind Guy scrapes the cream cheese off with a knife until the perimeter of the squagel is exposed. He touches the edges]

Blind Guy: Nora, I can't thank you enough for this squagel! Really, you must split it with me

Home Health Aide: No, I'm sure you're very hungry 

Blind Guy: I insist - you went all the way to Cosi to get this for me, the least I could do is give you half

Home Health Aide: Alright, th-thanks

[Home Health Aide reaches for her half of the squagel]
[Blind Guy grabs her hand and holds a knife against her throat with the other hand]

Blind Guy: Except you didn't go to Cosi, did you you little whore? Because this isn't even a squagel - it's just a bagel cut in the shape of a square!

Home Health Aide: It IS a squagel! And let go of me, you're really hurting me!
[Blind Guy pushes Home Health Aide's finger around the edges of the "squagel"]

Blind Guy: You feel those rough edges? Does that feel like the smooth perimeter of a squagel to you?

Home Health Aide: Alright, it's true, it's true! There was so much traffic on the way to Cosi that I just stopped at Starbucks and got a bagel and cut the sides off - I'm sorry!

Blind Guy: Starbucks no less - not even Bruegger's Bagels! Tryin' to pull a fast one on a blind man - you figured "hey, this poor schmuck's blind - he won't know the difference between a squagel and a bagel cut like a square"

Home Health Aide: COME ON, there IS no difference 

Blind Guy: NO DIFFERENCE?! The squagel's extra dough in the corners gives it a much softer texture after the baking process! And that's not to mention how much more water seeps into the extra surface area of the squagel during boiling, giving it a doughier inside! 

Home Health Aide: Owww! Look I'm sorry, it won't happen again

Blind Guy: That's for damned sure
[Blind Guy slits Home Health Aide's throat. She gasps for air and then collapses]
Blind Guy: SQUAGELLLLL!

Nebbishy Jewish Guy Who Turned Himself Into a Jackrabbit To Get Some Ass

Lions - They're Just Like Us

Eliot Spitzer And His Parents At An Event In Boca

[Photographer snaps photograph of Eliot Spitzer, Eliot Spitzer's Dad and Eliot Spitzer's Mom. Photographer walks away]

Eliot Spitzer's Mom: Eliot, our picture's gonna be in the Boca Beat section of the Miami Herald!

Eliot Spitzer: Wow, little old me?! In the Boca Beat?! What an honor!

Eliot Spitzer's Mom: No need for sarcasm, El. I think it's nice to get our picture in the paper, that's all

Eliot Spitzer: Sorry, it's just I was supposed to be the first Jewish President - and now...

Eliot Spitzer's Mom: You can still be the first Jewish President... of the Boca Grande Condo Association

[Eliot Spitzer gives his Mom a death stare]

Eliot Spitzer's Mom: What? It's very prestigious - they just created the BGCA by merging Boca Laguna and Grande Playa so it's an open election.

Eliot Spitzer's Dad: But you're gonna need a strong campaign El. I hear Irv Rosenthal - the over-80 shuffleboard champion of Southern Florida - is running. High name recognition!

Eliot Spitzer [muttering]: Well, I'm gonna take a shot of cyanide

Eliot Spitzer's Mom: Speak up, El! I can't hear you what'd you say?!

Eliot Spitzer: I SAID I'VE GOT A SLATE ARTICLE TO WRITE

Old-Fashioned Mom Whose Son Has the Gene That Makes Cilantro Taste Like Soap

Old-Fashioned Mom Whose Son Has the Gene That Makes Cilantro Taste Like Soap: Now Thomas, you've got to do your homework before you play any video games

Son: And you've got to think before you say stupid shit like that

Old-Fashioned Mom Whose Son Has the Gene That Makes Cilantro Taste Like Soap: Thomas James McArthur! You don't talk to your mother that way!

Son: Well I guess you're not paying attention because I just did, you dumb slut

Old-Fashioned Mom Whose Son Has the Gene That Makes Cilantro Taste Like Soap: That's it - I'm washin' your mouth out with cilantro!

Son: Nooooo! Anything but that!

Old-Fashioned Mom Whose Son Has the Gene That Makes Cilantro Taste Like Soap: It's the only way we're gonna clean that filthy mouth of yours!
[Old-Fashioned Mom Whose Son Has the Gene That Makes Cilantro Taste Like Soap grabs a bunch of cilantro and shoves it in her Son's mouth]

Son: Arghh - how - bleh! does anyone - yuch - voluntarily use this as a garnish -- mehh - on their tacos?!?!