Sometimes I'm serious.


A WAY WITH WORDS             


He was on the crapper when he should have been working.




The scale must be wrong?



I'm stealing this MAD Magazine!



John gives his spare tire to a stranded stranger.  The stranger drives off.   John gets a flat tire a few miles later.  John waits and waits for someone to stop, but no one does.  While getting more eager to get back to his plans, John tries to get more attention by waving frantically closer to the road.  John is killed by a vehicle he never saw coming.    Close friends and family say John was heading to church or a soup kitchen.  Media reports he was heading to a whorehouse.


I DON’T GET…      

I don't get how musicians can be paid millions in a world where even toddlers know how to find songs on YouTube for free.

I don't get how book publishers earn money in a world where it seems no one has the time to read anything more complicated than a Burger King menu.

I don't get why so many religious people have such problems with sex between other consenting adults.  How did they get here?  I bet it was because two faulty people had sex.

I don't get how anyone could pay 100 million dollars for a painting, no matter how great, when they know that at least millions and maybe billions of people don't have enough food to eat.

I don't get why a God would create flawed creations and then get mad at THEM for being faulty.



I scored my first varsity soccer goal in the first game of my sophomore year.  One of the guys passed a ball to me about 25 yards away from the goal, expecting to get the ball back right away.  I hit the shot straight from the pass with the side of my right foot.  It sailed into the upper right corner of the net.  The goalie never touched the ball. 


I was shocked.  I was surrounded by shocked teammates giving me congratulations.  Someone on the bench asked who’d scored.  My friend replied “Mike.”  The guy who asked said “Mike who?’  




Q: Why did the chicken cross the road?


A: The answer is ultimately unknown.  Researchers have yet to fully comprehend the psychological motivations of the animal kingdom, including chickens.


A man walks into a bar and orders a triple shot.  The bartender asks “A triple shot of what?”  The man replies, “Give me the strongest thing you got.”  The bartender asks, “The strongest?  You sure?”  The man replies, “Yes.  The strongest.”  So the bartender makes the shot and gives it to the man.  The man guzzles it down and screams in pain.  The man asks, “What the hell was that?”  The bartender replies, “Jalapeño hot sauce.”


“Knock Knock.:


Who’s there?”




“Jesus who?”


“Jesus, the most famous person ever to walk the planet.  The one who offers eternal salvation.  The one who is the hope, the truth, and the light of the universe.”


“Never heard of you.”


“Oh, you must be Asian.”




My perfect wedding: One million brides, Moonie style, but without the stupid religious stuff.  I have women of all ages, races, and faces, at least the ones I like.  It’s held at the top of Mount. Everest.  Will guests die getting there?  Maybe.  But those are the weak ones whose friendship I didn’t need.  No decorations, just music.  I get the best Jimi Hendrix imitator in the world, and have him jam along with the best Freddy Mercury imitator and they sing about my glory with my beautiful women.  No priest, just Bill Gates, giving me the signal to take over his financial empire along with my beautiful brides.  I don’t kiss them all, because who has that kind of time?  I salute the brides with a rock star point and mate with the hottest one within my reach, to show the world who’s boss.  Afterwards, all you can eat pizza buffet.  Not too shabby.




Stop hurting other people.  In a world where nearly everyone has a job they hate, governments make ridiculous rules for everyone to obey at the threat of gunpoint, and everyone dies, the universe is taking care of hurting others for you.