This Piece Is Not Family-Friendly – The Harvard Lampoon

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| Issue Editor: HBF '19 | Art Editor: HBF '19

This Piece Is Not Family-Friendly

  JFAR '19 , Art: SKL '23

I put on my poop shirt and then farted over to the boobs store. “One penis please,” I said, though all that came out of my mouth was beer covered in butts. 

“Sure,” said the man offering me drugs at the counter, and then, “Whoops, actually I meant to say ‘shit’.” “No problem,” I said in between bites of my sandwich with normal turkey in it. The bread was nipples.

Once he finished diarrheaing the other customers he handed me my penis and I went to Underage Drinking Park, where I French kissed my sister. My dog finished humping my mom and then came over and handed me a thousand lit matches. “Sex,” he said.

Unsure of what to do with the matches, I ran around holding a knife by the blade. It wasn’t until an hour into the run, when I opened my eyes, that I noticed my shoes were still tied. Embarrassed, I stopped running, bent down, and microwaved some aluminum foil.

I called my sister over to drive me home, but she was too busy staring directly at the sun while operating a bulldozer on Vicodin. My mom stopped smoking while pregnant long enough to walk over and give me some Lego bricks to swallow. I took this as my cue to go on CoolCowGames.com without permission.

Immediately upon opening my laptop I was messaged by several older people. Being underage, I of course replied with pictures of myself. It wasn’t long before my mom dragged me to the car by the handles of the plastic bag I’d put over my head at birth. We stopped at a pee-pee station on the way home so mom could refill the jizz tank of our car, which was shaped like a vagina (unshaved).

While my mom was fumbling with the house keys I watched all of Schindler’s List without an adult. When she finally got the door open I ran to the couch and sat with my dad to stare directly at our industrial strobe lights. “Son,” he said, “you know I’ve never actually pulled quarters out from behind your ears, right? Those were just your hearing aids!” Then we laughed and I gave my father a hug. My abusive father, that is.