When David Prowse died, his spirit floated up to Heaven.
He waited at the curb until it was safe to cross.
“We’re all huge fans of yours,” said Saint Peter. “In fact, we have a screening of the Star Wars movies tonight.”
They all watched, and everyone cheered and recited the lines along with the beloved movies.
And at the end of the third movie, when Vader’s mask was removed, it was David’s face, not Sebastian Shaw’s.
David cried with joy. “This truly is Heaven.” So, what about the prequels?
“What prequels?” said Saint Peter.
Yes, it truly was Heaven.
When the angels sing, Heaven shines.
When the angels scream, Hell gets hotter.
When the angels cry, it rains on Earth.
When the angels laugh, the winds pick up the leaves and make them dance in the air.
When the angels tremble, the earth shakes.
When the angels fart…
What happens when angels fart?
That’s what this experiment is all about.
We fed an angel garlic, onions, broccoli, and refried beans.
Then, we waited for the angel to fart.
But it hasn’t farted yet.
More beans? Garlic?
Or maybe we need another angel.
The angel laughs, and the leaves dance.
It’s really hot out today.
You know how they say you can do something about cold, but you can’t do anything about heat?
In the cold, you can put on more clothes. Or burn things.
In the heat, you can only take so much off.
Turn on the fans. Turn on the air conditioning.
Until… the power goes out.
Everybody else must have had the same idea.
That’s when you take a moment to think… and burn things.
Maybe if you burn enough houses down, there will be enough electricity to go around to power the fans and air conditioning.
Muhammad Ali said he was the greatest.
But he never said what he was the greatest at.
Some say he was the greatest painter of our generation.
His work could be seen in art galleries across the world.
And yet, there are no paintings by Muhammad Ali in any gallery.
“Look at the walls,” he’d whisper. “Such an even coat of paint! So perfect!”
Not a single drip on the floor, not a single splash on the ceiling.
A natural, seamless backdrop for all the art on display.
Just a smooth, even coat of paint on the walls for all.
Julia liked to buy wind-up toy dogs and release them in the hallways at work.
They’d yap for a few minutes before winding down.
When someone made a battery-powered yapping dog, she bought a bunch of those and released them in the hallways.
They’d yap for thirty minutes before running out of power.
Someone suggested to Julia that actual puppies would yap for a lot longer.
So, she went to the pound and got a bunch of those.
She set them out late Friday night so they’d surprise people on Monday morning.
But she didn’t leave out food or water.
It was really hot out yesterday, and our office building was caught in a rolling brownout.
The generator failed, and the air conditioning went offline.
We all went home.
Today, the office building is as cold as an icebox. They had jacked up the air conditioning to the max.
So, I’m in my office, wearing a throw blanket like a serape, trying not to get frostbite in the middle of August.
I pull out my electric blankets and plug them in.
When those blankets blow the circuit breakers, the air conditioning will stop, and it will be warm enough again.
Jack and Molly have been together for fifty years.
People ask them how they’ve stayed together for so long.
They don’t know. Or, they don’t remember.
Jack has Dementia, Molly has Alzheimers.
Neither is sure who the other is.
Or who they are. Or where they are.
They spend a lot of time with each other, though, that’s for certain.
“If my husband finds out about us, he’ll kill us,” says Molly.
“That’s okay,” says Jack. “I’m not married.”
We don’t correct them anymore.
I mean, what’s the harm?
Unless another of our residents imagines they’re Molly’s husband, I guess.
I keep a large glass jug in my office, and I make batches of herbal iced tea on Monday.
At the end of the day on Friday, whatever’s left in the jug gets dumped out in the breakroom sink, and I wash out the jug.
So it’s ready the next Monday for another batch of tea.
I like to try different blends and flavors, but whatever I enjoy on Monday, I’m sure to get sick of by Friday.
And whatever I hate on Monday, it will grow on me by the time I’m ready to dump it out on Friday.
Once upon a time, there was a shaggy dog named Maguffin.
He lived in a doghouse made of unobtanium with two other dogs named Jack and Doyle, whom I will never mention again.
In this doghouse, there was splotlight in each corner, so Maguffin cast four shadows on the walls.
His owner, who kept a loaded rifle by the door, fed him cans of red herring, which he enjoyed very much.
One night, a glowing object appeared in the sky.
Maguffin looked up at it and barked.
Then, the object disappeared, and Maguffin went back into his doghouse to sleep.
Carlos Correa is a hard-hitting shortstop for the Houston Astros.
He also gets injured a lot. Spends a lot of time on the injured list.
But most importantly, he appears on local grocery store commercials with several other Astros.
At one point, all of the players appearing in the commercials were on the injured list.
I don’t think it’s a good sales pitch to have a bunch of injured athletes peddling ice cream and steaks and other unhealthy crap.
Instead, have them peddle ice packs and bandages and the pharmacy.
Oh, and curbside delivery to save them some heavy lifting.