things blieden said

I’ve been writing smut fiction on my cell phone only using predictive text. Here’s my first story.

This chick shows up at my door one day. I’d never net her before, but I could tell in an instant she was a dirty whose that wanted my massive coal. She was carrying a bag of groceries. “Are you hungry,” she asked. “Yes,” I said. “Hungry for puppy.” She grabbed my dial and thought I would bum. She wanted it in the app though, and I was more than happy to oblige. At some point her conscience kicked in and she said screamed out “Wait, you don’t have ages do you? Or herpes? Or arabs?” I actually did have arabs a week earler, but I took a bath in some oatmeal and they seemed to go away. But I distracted her by stroking her aliv till she began to moan like a whose.

I just set a google alert for the phrase “Michael Blieden’s face is so fucked up.”

I really hope I don’t get any of those alerts.

Here’s another comedy scenario. There’s a reporter and his editor and they’re running into a presidential news conference, and the editor gets an important call on the capitol steps so he can’t go inside. But he shouts out one important thing for his star reporter to ask President Obama, he needs to ask Obama for specifics on his plan to turn the economy around. Okay, here’s where it starts to get hilarious. There’s a construction crew working with a jackhammer on the sidewalk just outside the capitol building, so the reporter can’t hear that well, and he thinks that his editor said “Ask Obama for fishsticks.” Now, let me explain why something instantly ridiculous is about to happen. This reporter is a really good reporter. He has an expansive grasp of many subjects, and he has a mind like a steel trap. He’s also very earnest and tough with the politicians. His downfall is that he really needs direction, and looks to his editor a little to much to give him that initial nudge regarding how to frame a story. But once he gets that little push, once he accepts the premise of a question, he really knows how to deliver. So it’s a half hour later and Obama calls on him and he says, “Mr. President the American people want fishsticks.” There is an awkward silence and he continues even more determined. “I am talking about fishsticks Mr. President, and you have not been forthcoming as you promised. Now I am going to stand here and ask you to show us all the fishsticks that were the cornerstone of your campaign.” It flashes through Obama’s mind that maybe this is a joke, but he just can’t risk laughing at this reporter JUST IN CASE there is an actual fishsticks story that he doesn’t know about. He doesn’t even look over at his chief of staff Rahm Emmanual, but he can see Rahm whispering furiously into someone’s ear “find out what this fucking fishsticks thing is.” So Obama calls on someone else and they talk about Pakistan for about five minutes. Things get back to normal. But the reporter feels like he was ignored, so he raises his hand again. Obama knows what the guy wants to ask about, so he doesn’t call on him. And that’s how the scene ends. Obama is talking to every other reporter, ignoring our guy, and even though the conversation turns to single payer health care, and creating 3 million jobs, and Russian’s control of the gas pipeline to Eastern Europe, the elephant in the room is still the fishtsticks thing.