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My Farked Up Life!

 article about no more fake news
I would like to become a runner for the Washington Post. I am ready
to take the word from Washington about Post to everywhere in the world.
I will make post available even in China. China will be full of post
offices like it is in Washington. And I will send you a letter from
there...




Yes, I'm back from the grave, big as an elephant, twice as bold. My
Farked up Life is back! Well, for your sake, I hope not for long. It
just happened that the owners of the magazine made me work again. I
don't know why, I have been here for a long time, but I haven't really
have had to do anything much. But I have still got paid. So why do I
need to work now? It's a total mystery for me what the fuck happened?

Me, the beach boy!


I was just laying in the beach when one of the top guys, the guy with a
black beard, the cruel one, called me to say that I'm in danger. That
if I won't write something really farked up again, I would have to lay
in the beach all the years that I have left

Me, somewhere in the
beach? to live. I thought for a bit, and a bit more, and then a bit
more considering my age, bad habbits in life and the tendency not to
remember anything I did the day before, then I kind of liked the idea.
However, as he also promised not to pay me top dollars anymore, I
decided it might be a good idea if I actually wrote some shit again.


So right now I'm laying in a beach somewhere in Tuscany, trying to find
the purpose of life, drinking my James Bond drink and somewhere in
between also trying to write this idiocy. But well, as long as they
publish it, why not. The Cheers is an internationally well-known
magazine, after all. So as you can see I WILL BE FAMOUS! Even
YOU are reading it. Though I can't really understand WHY? Oh WHY? But I
must be good if I really made you read this ball-less piece. But just
to get some feedback from you please tell me WHY oh WHY are you reading
this nonsense? Leave a note to the comments area. I appreciate it.
Thank you.



His first sexual experience with a monkey...



Oh yeah, I forgot something. My big-boss-always-watching forced me to
write about my first sexual experience. Well, I have none. So I have
decided to talk about my big-boss-not-usually-editing experience
instead. The way I remember it it was a great big monkey with dark
brown coat and everything. Her eyes were glowing like someone had
pushed his finger up to his ass. Well, as it turned out, someone had.
It was my big-boss-not-always-sober who found that interesting. He had
never seen a monkey in his life before. And now he found so many
familiarities between himself and the monkey-girl that he just had to
fell in love with her.

Well, at least at that point he really
thought he did. But you wouldn't have liked to see him the morning
after he had banged the little hairy gal. Or actually, yeah, you would

Definately better than monkey,


you perv! have liked to see him. He had such a tiny puppy face in front
of his head, begging me not to tell anyone about it. He was even ready
to pay me, pay me a lot he was ready to pay for my upcoming trip around
the world, all costs covered of course. Well, of course I promised I
would not tell anyone. Anyhow why should I? Everyone already knew it,
there was even a front page story about it at The Sun magazine.
Together with pictures and everything. The thing was that the
big-boss-stupid-as-hell didn't really remember that the monkey was in
the zoo and he paid the zoo-keeper to get inside the monkey's cage. And
would you really expect that this kind of event stays unnoticed by the
thousands of visitors of the zoo. Hell, the zoo staff was even shouting
through the loud-speakers that some drunk guy is banging the monkey.
They even promoted the event on the streets. And I must say that
according to my calculations the zoo made 10 times more money that day
than it had made with the previous month all together.

Well,
this big-boss-currently-still-in-dark will be out of the country for a
bit after this article is published. I would think Alaska is a good
place for him. God bless the magazine with owners who don't usually
review the contents! CHEERS!



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