Bill Schmalfeldt As Punchline

A humpbacked Italian walks into a bar and orders a glass of wine. He notices Jesus sitting at the other end of the bar, and has the bartender send him a glass of wine as well.

An Irishman with a bad leg limps into the bar, and orders a glass of whiskey. He see Jesus at the other end of the bar, and sends him a round as well.

Then Bill Schmalfeldt walks into the bar, and orders Johnnie Walker Red. He sees Jesus sitting at the other end of the bar, and sends him a glass as well.

After a while, Jesus decides it’s time to head home. As He gets up to leave, He touches the Italian’s back, and it is healed. The Italian does back flips out the door. He touches the Irishman’s leg, and it’s healed. The Irishman dances a jig out the door. As Jesus approaches Schmalfeldt, he leaps off the barstool in horror and says…


Author: Paul Krendler

The Thinking Man's Zombie

25 thoughts on “Bill Schmalfeldt As Punchline”

  1. I'm changing my avatar soon. Dianne Preston's pecker wrecker is causing some distress.
    I'm in the process of improving a certain controversial photo of a corpse from 2015. I need an appropriate donkey pic to complete the mood.
    You all have my email address. Thanks.

    1. Looking at that rotten maw.... a dull electric pencil sharpener would treat you better.

      Pecker wrecker, indeed.

  2. Finally, I confess. It’s all true.

    Gail kicked me out. To get to move back in, there were conditions. We slept in separate beds until the day she died, and she never let me touch her again. That’s why I was constantly writing gay kiddie porn.

    But I got in one last indignity before she got too cold.

    TJ kicked me out. Gail left him the trailer, the bitch. I was lucky to get sixty days notice for the way I treated him after I married Gail. I won’t say more except…

    …I’m more than a bit of a hypocrite myself.

    He also got 90% of Gail’s life insurance. She was a good Catholic and never divorced me even though she should have. But after 10 years without sex, she sure fucked me good after she died.

    They kicked me out of Juniper Courts, too. They never told me they were monitoring my internet activity, but they probably were. What they did say was they were tired of process servers showing up all the time, and I had become the most disruptive tenant they had. Also, too many noise complaints. And something about sauerkraut making me gassy and would I please not eat it at every meal? Even Cindy stopped talking to me.

    Fucking Lickspittles. All I wanted to do was get back in touch with my Catholic heritage.

    Iowa was my last resort. The only problem was, they knew me there. I couldn’t believe I actually got hired at the radio station. Getting fired in less than a month was a gut punch. I suppose with my career history I shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t really because I talked too much politics on the air. Some bitchy secretary caught me looking at gay black porn on the computer in the studio. Krendler is right – nobody quits on good terms with zero notice.

    I tried to hang in there in Clinton after getting fired, but all I could do was abuse people on the Internet. Except for Diane. So I faked a cancer scare (I think this was the fourth time, or maybe the fifth. Demntia, you know) and launched a fundraiser for a roadtrip. Really I only wanted the toys. You fucking lickspittles pissed on that scam too.

    But that's not why I got run out of Clinton.

    No, it was those damn Cub Scouts selling popcorn. I just invited them in so I could sit down while I was feeling up their forms, I mean FILLING OUT THE ORDER FORMS!

    Somone’s mother must have made a phone call.

    Thanks be to Christ for this needy, zero self-esteem soul I have lampreyed myself on to here in South Carolina. I wooed her with my pretty words and now she does anything for me. I don’t even wipe my own ass anymore…and let’s just say there’s no toilet paper involved either. Just a little mouthwash after the fact. She especially likes to engage in her cleaning tasks while I do the same to homeless black men she invites to our squalid hotel room.

      1. Yeah, the writing is just like that "Anonymous" guy Bill swore he wasn't until he finally admitted it was him.

    1. Funny what happens when more and more little birdies are singing and you can't deny the truth any longer.


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