Sometimes, when my girlfriend leaves the house, I blow her
tuba. One time her bell was plugged up with an inflatable banana. I
didn't know it and blew so hard I went blind. My sight came back, and I
don't get on her tuba no more, but whenever I inflate her banana, the
world turns black.
They called my name and I didn't answer. ("Steve?
Steve?") Guess, I'm eating Dave's tacos. I didn't realize it until they
called my name. Damn, Dave! You splurged and got steak tacos. And salsa.
Just a minute ago, the guy sitting behind me at Tijuana Flats called
the server over and asked him, "Could you check on my order? Two tacos.
It's taking a really long time." ("What's the name?") "Dave," he said.
Three minutes ago, a girl came out of the kitchen with two orders.
("Steve?") "Right here," said another guy. His name was Steve too. He
got a Mexican Pizza. So that left her with the other order, two tacos.
"Are those for Steve?" I asked her. Her eyes fluttered like a slot
machine. She opened her mouth and I heard the buzz of a disconnected
dial tone. I reached for them, and she gave them to me. Munch, munch.
Hmm, these aren't ground beef, I thought. I guess the cashier upgraded
my order. I guess she felt bad for handing me a pen that was out of ink.
Maybe I said "beef," and she thought "steak." Steak IS beef. Oh well.
But they were Dave's tacos. I have a secret, Dave. I ate your tacos. Now
I wonder who's Mexican Pizza tat was.
The following compound words clearly were coined by people who had suffered some kind of blunt head trauma: babysitter, bellhop, blackball, brainwash, buttercup, butterfingers, butterfly, buttermilk, butternut, butterscotch (Man, somebody sure does like butter!) dogwood, duckweed, eardrum, egghead, eyelash, firearm, firehouse, firewater, fishmonger, handcuff, headdress, honeymoon, hookworm, horsefly, horseplay, jailbait, jellyfish, moonstruck, mothball, motherhood, scapegoat, seahorse, shortbread, sideburns, sixfold, skyscraper, slapstick, snowbird, spearmint, stagehand, starfish, sunfish, sweetmeat, tablespoon (now that one’s just plain lazy), tadpole, tapeworm, thunderbird, turnbuckle, weathercock.
Friday Jostens Thailand will be on campus at Karen-Padaung High School to take class ring orders. GO TAPIRS! See our advertisement in this month's Burma Vogue. Remember, the Extended Ring Protection Plan is only available in conjunction with rings purchased from Jostens Thailand after July 1, 2011.
Why I started that break-circle in The Villages last night, I'll never know. Breakdancing is just that these days. Oh yeah, my Robot is tops now, boyee - now that I'm mastering my mouth-propelled robotic chair.
Mitt Romney always looks like he just farted and is waiting for somebody to smell it.
CAIN DIAGNOSED SLEEPFUCKER, DROPS FROM RACE (ATLANTA) Embattled Republican presidential candidate Herman Cain announced Tuesday night to GNN, that he is ending his campaign for medical reasons. Doctors have diagnosed Cain with the rare neurological condition Sexambulism. More commonly known as "Sleepfucking," the suffering sleepfucker feels strong compulsions to fornicate while they sleep. Sometimes it's not pretty. "That's all this country needs," Cain said, "a President who can't get some sleep at night. America needs an alert President, one who maybe won't nod off at cabinet meetings and start playing grab ass with the Secretary of Energy." Cain, for weeks has denied a handful of allegations of sexual impropriety made by former business associates. "I assure you, my sleepfucking does not validate any of the crazy claims made by these horrible women. After all, the doctors didn't diagnose me with Dogdick too."
A new study indicates that if your parents name you "Dan," there's more than a 73% chance you'll wind up opening a fan store.
Voyager Space Probe Deleted As SPAM - (HOUSTON)
NASA temps today confirmed that an automated reply was received last May that blocked one of Earth's "message-in-a-bottle" satellites launched in 1977. Unknown, intelligent alien life filters requested that they be opted out of any future Earth transmissions. The Voyager unmanned space missions carried photos of the Earth and its lifeforms, a range of scientific information, spoken greetings from people from around the world, messages from U.S. President Jimmy Carter, sounds of Earth, including whales, a baby crying, waves breaking on a shore, and a collection of music by artists ranging from Mozart to Chuck Berry. "They never even read it," said NASA temp Pusillanimous Curtainrod. "Maybe we should try a fax or an old-fashioned letter."
My Chips Are Lapped.
My Sloth Has Rabies.
For Lint, I'm Giving Up Cleaning Out My Bellybutton.
Does Jenny Craig Have Edible Undies?
Text from Grandma Grace: "This LOVE BOAT is a CRAZY show!"
Sitting in my car tonight at Target, cranking Slayer and eating a Chalupa, I heard a voice that almost made me soil my leathers. It was God Himself. "I want you to build a guitar," God commanded me. "Build it 300 cubits by 50 cubits by 30 cubits. Then fill it with righteousness." - Awesome. Righteous indeed, I thought. So I went straight home and Googled CUBIT. Hmm, weird dimensions. No curves. Either God meant to say DULCIMER or my tinnitus was kicking in and he said ARK.
Home Shopping Network - Bring the warmth and ambiance of a fireplace into your groin with the Heat Surge Amish Made Electric Vibrator. Real wood, hand-crafted in Ohio with integrated casters that make it easy to roll from room to room for energy-efficient masturbation. Choose Oak or Cherry wood finish. Includes: (2) Remote Controls, Wooden remote control holder, User's Manual, (400) bees and (8) AAA batteries (to power remotes and the electric bee chamber door on your Vibrator). HSN Price $399.95 or five payments of $79.99 (plus $22.68 shipping). Call 1-800-933-2887.
OCD SUPPORT GROUP MEETS TONIGHT AT:
9:00; 9:01; 9:02; 9:03; 9:04; 9:05; 9:06; 9:07; 9:08; 9:09; 9:10; 9:11; 9:12; 9:13; 9:14; 9:15; 9:16; 9:17; 9:18; 9:19; 9:20; 9:21; 9:22; 9:23; 9:24; 9:25; 9:26; 9:27; 9:28; 9:29; 9:30. And Session II meets at: 9:31; 9:32 ; 9:33 . . . B.Y.O.B. (Bring Your Own Borax).
HEADLINE: (Washington D.C.)
Husky Terrorist Wearing Suicide Corduroys Self-Implodes While Ascending Capitol Steps - FBI Warns Of Terrorist Gap Featuring Flammable Tees, Falsifier Fleeces, Villainous Velours, Guerrilla Cargo Pants, Saboteur Sweatshirts and Khaki Attackis for a limited time - The National Terrorist Advisory System has launched an Elevated Freedom Fashion Alert throughout February, while supplies last. Savings are Imminent. (Original story: FBI arrest terror suspect wearing suicide vest - A MOROCCAN national has been arrested in Washington DC as he allegedly went to stage a suicide strike in the heart of the United States capital. According to reports, the man, who has been named as Amine el Khalifi, 29, was wearing a suicide vest packed with what he thought were explosives but were loaded with inert matter which had been provided to him by FBI agents as part of a sting operation. The man was reportedly arrested by US Capitol Police and FBI agents in Washington on Friday morning as he allegedly went to attack the seat of government. The man apparently believed he had sourced explosives from Al Qaeda operatives, who were in fact undercover agents. Fox News reported the man had been in the US for 12 years and planned to stage an attack on the US Capitol building. It said the man had prayed at a Washington mosque before heading towards the Capitol Hill District, home to the US Congress. Capitol Police issued a short statement saying the public was never in danger. The man, reportedly living in the US illegally, will appear in a Washington court shortly.
I hold in my hand recently declassified Internet evidence that irrefutably proves that YOU have, in 2012 alone, over 900 "BOOTY" Google's, 74 Foursquare Check-Ins at Taco-Bell and 13 attempts to Skype Stevie Wonder after 10 p.m. - two of them successful. And not ONCE did you ever pick up the phone to call your mother.
EAGLE AND THE WREN
Last night’s Jane Goodall lecture at Rollins College was truly inspiring. She shared stories about her amazing field research in Gombe with chimpanzees – 50 years! She compared both the good and dark sides of chimpanzee behavior with that of humans. But she reminded us that even the brightest chimpanzee’s got nothing on even the most average of human beings. One way that we are special, she said, is how we can communicate complex ideas through the beauty of language. Goodall pleaded that we all not get SO caught up in our clever technologies, that we allow our minds to disconnect from our hearts. She asked us to think about how our actions affect future generations - not just the me, the here, the now. I was inspired to tell you about a great picture book she co-wrote with Alexander Reichstein. It’s called "The Eagle and The Wren." - It’s about reaching for your dreams – dreams that you may even believe are beyond your means. - “You may ask,” Goodall said, “how a girl born between two world wars, with little means, stands before you today, an overfilled audience, some of whom traveled over 100 miles to see me tonight...well, I am reminded a folk tale I was told by my mother when I was a little girl.” - Who can fly the highest? "I can," claim the lark, the dove, the vulture, and the eagle. So owl suggests a contest. With a great flapping of wings, and squawking and calling, the birds take to the air. It is a glorious contest, but one by one each bird falls out and flies back to the earth. But not the eagle. The eagle keeps soaring skyward. When the eagle returns, all the birds believe they know who won the contest. But owl surprises them all when it is announced that it’s the tiny jenny wren who is champion. For that little jenny wren took passage on the mighty eagle and nestled within the feathers on its back. So the jenny wren flew the highest. Perhaps Goodall is reminding us how we all must depend on one another for help and support throughout our lives.
Do mentally ill Siamese twins see doppelgänger quadruplets? And if they're schizophrenic, would they then have "whole" personalities? What about when they get diarrhea? Do they doodoodoodoodoodoodoodoo? Sounds like a mess.
MASSAGE IN A BOTTLE
It's 300 years from now. A little girl is running on the beach trying to get away from her rambunctious brother. She stops. She sees something. It's an old bottle. It's yours. She can read. She could since she was two. She bends down. Pulls out the cork. It crumbles in her hand. She pulls out your note. It says, "Sorry." The little girl thinks, "Why would anyone be sorry? I'm seven years old, she thinks, a middle-aged woman, I have another 6 or 7 years to go. Life is beautiful, cough, cough Her brother hovers up next to her in his hover craft. He turns on his voice box and says...