Sometimes, funny happens.

An archive of photos, drawings and random conversations between myself and one of my co-workers.

Thanks, bro.

  • Me: Page 2 stuff is in.
  • Chris: Thanks, Broman.
  • Me: You're welcome.
  • Chris: The Broman Empire™
  • Me: The Brottoman Empire™
  • Chris: The Broviet Union™
  • Me: The Bronary Islands™
  • Chris: The Democratic Republic of Brozil™
  • Me: Brodagascar™
  • Chris: Wybroming™
  • Me: Brostralia™
  • Chris: Brohio™
  • Me: Broregon™
  • Chris: The Presbrotyrian Church™

Celebrity Devastator.

  • Chris: What if Farrah and Michael merged?
  • Me: To form Devastator?
  • Chris: Yes. With Ed McMahon at its head.
  • Me: That would truly be a sight to behold.
  • Chris: Incredible, yet terrifying at the same time.

Tramp stamps.

  • Chris: Let's get back tattoos.
  • Me: Depending on the location, these could be considered tramp stamps.
  • Chris: I want them across our shoulder blades. I'll get Jon, and you get Kate. But Kate will be crying.
  • Me: Like, lifesize?
  • Chris: I don't know about lifesize. But pretty big.
  • Chris: And below their faces, I can have the word "PLUS" and you can have "EIGHT." Then we'll stand side to side for the complete effect.
  • Me: In two years this tattoo will be mostly irrelevant, and ultimately a mistake.
  • Chris: But for those two years, we will have untold glory! GLORY!!

Cat and mouse.

  • Me: I kinda wish they hadn't hung Saddam.
  • Chris: Hanged. And why?
  • Me: I miss him.
  • Chris: He was a devilish rogue.
  • Me: He was. But gosh he was funny. I quite miss his anecdotes at dinner.
  • Chris: Ah, yes. The cat-and-mouse game of wits, where first prize was your life.
  • Me: I was always a winner.
  • Me: He even gave me one of his prized, golden AK-47s.
  • Chris: I once ordered the summary execution of Tajikistan.
  • Me: The whole country?
  • Chris: He chuckled and said, "My dear Porter. One thing at a time." Then he shot his butler.

Memorial fist.

  • Chris: Ray said Thomas caught you watching porno on my computer.
  • Me: That is untrue. I was merely searching out a suitable wallpaper for your computer.
  • Me: Some of the images I found were questionable.
  • Chris: I see. Hang on while I kick Ray's ass for lying.
  • --- 5 min. later ---
  • Chris: Okay, he's done learning.
  • Me: Good.
  • Chris: He sure cries easy.
  • Me: Some people do. Especially when they're on the business end of a 2x4.
  • Chris: Or my fists, "Hitty" and "Sir Arthur Moore."
  • Me: I've not named mine.
  • Chris: "Gristle," and "Chris Porter Memorial Fist."

Weecakes.

  • Chris: Item: Someone left a yellow in the toilet, and the weecake is missing from the urinal. What did you do with it?
  • Me: With what?
  • Chris: The weecake.
  • Me: I didn't do anything with it, honest.
  • Chris: You didn't eat it?
  • Me: Negative. I wizzed on it.
  • Me: Perhaps it was just it's time.
  • Chris: It seemed fine when I saw it last.
  • Me: Well, last time I checked, you were not a doctor.

It's murd-ah!

  • Me: You should go to IKEA.
  • Chris: Or Craigslist.
  • Me: No, you'll get murdered.
  • Chris: Oh, just a little.
  • Me: A little murder can kill you.

I don't like your tone.

  • Chris: Which photos you using, ho?
  • Me: Start over.
  • Chris: Ho: Which photos are you using?
  • Me: Third time's a charm...go.
  • Chris: Tell me which photos you're going to use, before I release a swarm of scorpions at you.
  • Me: 2 and 4b. Shit.

Of souls and mech suits.

  • Me: Congratulations on your nephew making it this far. However, he still has a ways to go.
  • Chris: Very true. He has not yet proven himself.
  • Me: What would be some good developmental tests for him?
  • Chris: Giving him a pile of metal, some electrical wires, and a roll of tape. If he builds a mech battle-suit, he wins.
  • Me: And if he doesn't succeed?
  • Chris: Then his soul is mine.
  • Me: Fair enough.
  • Chris: Either that, or I get to re-name him.
  • Me: Oooh, that has the potential to REALLY teach him a lesson.
  • Chris: Right. Because I would name him Tyrannosaurus Quentin Porter.

Naysayer.

  • Chris: Scenario: Would you rather own 1 (one) dinosaur, or take a trip to the moon?
  • Me: Depends on the type of dinosaur I guess.
  • Me: Dilophosauruses for example, are not desirable.
  • Chris: What type do you want?
  • Me: You know, I think I'll just take the trip to the moon, please.
  • Chris: Damn. You're the third moon-picker.
  • Me: Well c'mon! A dinosaur? Really?
  • Me: I don't think you've thought this through. A. Where are you going to keep it? B. What kind of dinosaur? C. How are you possibly going to feed it?
  • Chris: A. In the backyard. B. An Allosaurus, and C. Goats.
  • Me: How are you going to pay for the goats? What if the dinosaur gets sick? What if it hurts a guest? This is a huge liability.
  • Chris: You seem to forget that I can charge people $100 a head to see my Allosaurus.
  • Me: Well, ok. I'll grant you that.
  • Chris: I'll make a thousand dollars.