Humor for Adults
Who Can Handle
Adult Humor

— by Len Kennedy, Esq.







Universal Rules
of Etiquette


Never talk about your penis in the midst of strangers — especially if you’re a woman.


(For men only)  It’s usually considered impolite to play with your erection at a party.  The courteous thing to do is to coerce someone else into doing it for you.


(For women only)  Never kick a guy in the balls just because he called you a bitch.  Do it before he gets the chance.


If you’re a pimp (and who isn’t, these days?), don’t rip off your prospective customers by telling them they’ll get 25% off their purchase when what that really amounts to is that all of your “service personnel” are double-amputees.


Never use the word fuck in public.  Don’t even write the word fuck for the sole purpose of telling people not to use it.  Fuck is a very bad word.


Don’t ever be irreverent — just follow my example.


Don’t disembowel a person or teenager in a restaurant for cutting in front of you while you’re waiting to be seated.  That’s something that is best done outside the restaurant.


When talking or writing, don’t use the biggest words you can muster just to impress other people.  Use the most aesthetically pleasing words to impress others.


If you’re a newborn baby (and who isn’t, these days?), don’t swing around the operating room from your umbilical cord screaming, “Look, Mommy, I’m Tarzan!”  It’s been done before.


Drink wine.


Never fire a gun at a wedding — unless you’re the one getting married, and the person you’re marrying is your little sister, and you’re realizing that her big brother would never forgive you if you two screwed and had malformed babies with Picassoesque bodies, so you’re pointing the gun at your own head.


Never fire a gun in church, because if you had any sense at all, you wouldn’t be in a church in the first place.


It’s only polite to say “Excuse me” after you’ve accidentally rear-ended someone because you weren’t watching where you were going.  Especially if you’re in a bathhouse.

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Home | LenKen Photo Essay | Part I: Quips & Squibs | Part II: Intermezzo: Bad Poetry for Bad People | Part III: Weird Stories for Weird People | Addendum: The Slapdash Mishmash: A Legacy | Appendage: Short Essays on Long Topics | Preamble: A Brief History of Me | Preface: Freedom of Speech versus Freedom from Speech | Prelude: Maturity versus Immaturity | Prologue: Strength versus Weakness | Prolusion: The Period: Dickens Redux | Quips & Squibs | Universal Rules of Etiquette | A Writer and His Hookers | The Sadistic News Network | Books That Cause a Tingling Sensation in My Left Testicle | Alternative Uses for a Brick | A Calm and Rational Analyis of Winter | Odium | Drivel, Blather, Prattle, and Twaddle | Bad Pick-Up Lines | Bilge, Dreck, Tripe, and Schlock for Schlemiels, Schlimazels, Schmucks, and Schmegegges | Arizona | Chickens | If You Make a Girl Snicker, She May Let You Lick Her | A Lesbian’s Lament | THC | Ode to the Paperboy | Sesquipedalian Love Song | Interview with a Petulant Old Shrew | Interview with a Persnickety, Pugnacious Pedant | A Freak Like Me | I Have Weird Dreams | A Long, Hard Look at Gun Control | Readings in the Cassandra Times | The Infamous Stickflipper | Keeping a Kennedy Tradition Alive | The Stalker | Lucy in the Sky with Dysentery | Beyond God & Devil | Pile of Nothing | How to Quit Smoking and Die Anyway | Epilogue: Quirky Colloquy: A Play in One Act | An Introduction to the Slapdash Mishmash | Poppycock? | Der Klusturfuk der Katzenjammer | The Cowardice of One’s Convictions: Cognitive Dissonance Theory in a Nutshell | Controlling Your Emotions before They Control You: Rational-Emotive Behavior Therapy in a Nutshell | Why We Should Be Dying to Live Rather than Living to Die | About the Author | Sign My Guestbook