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You can love your job, but don’t rape your job

Dear Murray:I made a few rape jokes at work and a couple of people got really worked up about it. Are these jokes off limits? They were really funny.



Ain’t nothin that gets people’s panties all balled and gagged like a good RAPE joke!

A few years ago, I was in the movie theater with an ex, and we were watching WHITE CHICKS. Why we chose to see that movie instead of walking down a dark alley and getting raped, I’ll never know. Some old crazy bitch somehow snuck in the theater, and provided a running commentary. She’d shout out random shit like “I’VE GOT PUDDING! PUDDING IN MY PUSSY!” Really good shit. Anyhow, the first time Marlon Wayans appeared on the screen, she stood up and started yelling “RAPE! HEEEE RAPED ME! HE RAAAAPED ME!” Security then swooped in, and ushered her out. You can guess at just what kinda humor cliff the rest of the movie went straight the fuck over, which proves that what that movie needed was more rape. Much, much more rape.

Don’t trust a motherfucker who tells you _________ isn’t funny. The hell it ain’t. Anything has the potential to be funny. Aids, crack babies, rape, child molestors. This shit has all grown so commonplace in our society that everyone makes some joke or other on these issues. That’s why we all know what the hell someone’s talking about when they say “LOOK AT THAT RAPE VAN! AHAHA!” Chester the Molestor!

Motherfuckers need to lighten the fuck up. We treat this shit like it’s something you ain’t never ever gonna recover from. Nobody’s out there saying “AHAHAHA! YOU GOT RAPED! PWNED!!” Unless, of course, it’s to Michael Vick. On the other hand, treating this shit like it’s delicate fucking china is just going to fuck people up worse. We treat rape victims like they will never ever recover from this shit. Victim 4 life.

The truth is, people can and do recover from this shit once everyone around them stops telling them that they can’t.

There is no subject that is off-limits. Not a goddamned one. The trick is to be able to maintain tact, which most people wouldn’t even recognize if it raped them in the goddamned forehead.

Now leave me the fuck alone.

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Dear Murray

Dear Murray a tasty, tasty bitch beloved and feared by hordes of basement-dwelling illiterati and their fierce antagonists, the Grammar Nazis. He single-handedly turned the webcam whorefest of Myspace into a lively commerce of ideas, including whether or not the TUBGIRL photo will ever be topped as a postmodern expression of the inexpressible. According to web historians, he has inspired more photoshop projects and syphilis jokes than Britney Spears (who he has been repeatedly linked romantically to). He is also rumoured to be the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby, a disciple of Cliff Yablonski, and the second gunman on the grassy knoll. Although he could not be reached for comment, he reportedly resides in or near the tent cities along the LA River Basin, third right after the walrus sunning station.

He has vehemently denied all charges that he is any any way responsible for that rash your wife claims "is from the heat".

His primary function is doling out advice; the inspiration sprang from an endless and eventually dull repetition of fucktards failed to heed his words.

A secondary result is a dysfunctional family "round table" of people who contribute innumerable one-liners and personal experiences, rarely related in any way to the actual question.

It is estimated that tens of thousands of readers have "LOL'd" approximately 5,395,645,694,167,467,105 times, with the toll expected to rise.

He is immune to kryptonite, chlamydia, and brainwashing.

Wikipedia has banned PENCILTITS's entry, debating the relevance of his tasty bitchiness.