Celloboe

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When I was young, I played the cello.
I was great.
Then, as I grew older, I played the oboe.
I stopped playing music for a while, but I decided at one point I’d take it back up again.
My old oboe and cello were in storage, but they’d been damaged from the years of neglect and abuse.
So, I tried to fix them in my workshop, and I ended up with a celloboe.
Sitting down, I took a deep breath, drew back the bow, and tried to play it.
Bad idea.
I get out of the hospital next week.

Piano Man

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I was sitting at a San Francisco sidewalk cafe, minding my own business, when a large herd of grand pianos slowly rolled along the street.
“Did they fall out of a truck?” the waiter asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think so,” I said. “They’re all going uphill.”
The pianos, paying no attention to our comments, continued their slow, rumbling roll up the hill and out of sight.
“Hey, maybe we should tell someone?” said the waiter. “They might cause an accident or something.”
“You’re right,” I said, pulling out a cell phone. “They completely ran that red light.”

Pickling

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“Anything can be pickled,” said Joe.
We were sitting on his front porch, watching the dust blow over the road when he said this.
“What?” I asked.
“Anything can be pickled,” said Joe.
A squirrel ran across the road.
“Could you pickle that?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “Hold on.”
Joe pulled out his gun, shot the squirrel, and walked out to get it.
“Did you have to shoot the thing?” I asked.
“Well, you can’t pickle these things alive,” said Joe. “They tend to claw up the inside of the glass and crap themselves.”
I guess he’s right.

Message in a Bottle

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I watched as the waves carried the bottle to the beach.
I picked it up, popped the cork, and pulled out some scraps of paper.
They were coupons for herbal medications to make my breasts bigger and my penis longer and thicker.
Then there was a letter from the widow of some oil executive who didn’t know me, but they blessed me and said they’d be dead soon.
Oh, and apparently I’d won a big lottery or something.
Looking out on the water, I saw the glitter of a million more bottles.
“Goddamned Spam,” I mumbled, crumpling up the notes.

The Wild One

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They called Zacharias the Wild One.
They also called him Peanut Butter and Jelly, because he really liked peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but all eyes went wide when they saw… the flaming peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“That’s so totally cool,” said one kid, staring at the burning sandwich in Zacharias’s hands.
“AAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHH!” screamed Zacharias, and he dropped the sandwich, running to the lake to cool his scorched hand.
And that’s when we called him the Wild One.
We also called him an ambulance.
Never saw him again.
I wonder if he still eats peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

The New Weird

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Attention!
In five minutes, we will be releasing The New Weird.
When you receive it, please review the instruction booklet, run all necessary backups, and then install The New Weird.
Should you have any problems installing The New Weird or in the chance that it fails to function normally, then don’t panic – everything is fine.
It is, after all, The New Weird.
In light of the release of The New Weird, support for The Old Weird will end in one month, at which point your Old Weird will automatically become Normal.
Thank you, and please have a Weird Day.

Ass Cheek Split

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Tonight, it’s my night in the ER, and we’ve got a rabbi with a bowling pin up his ass.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen one in the emergency room.
“Have you ever seen one of these?” I asked a nurse.
“No,” she said. “I think it’s a first. I’ll add it to the book.”
Five minutes later, she says I have a call.
“Who told the media?” I asked.
“It’s not the media,” said the nurse. “It’s the bowling alley. They want the shoes back.”
“What about the pin?” I asked.
“Would you want that back?” she said.

Dumb Bunny

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There we were, trying to eat a little breakfast before the daily crucifixions, when this big white rabbit shows up.
“Hey, kids!” he shouted.
Kids? We’re Roman centurions.
He then pokes his nose into each bowl, splashing gruel all over the table. “Where’s the cereal?” he asks.
“Halt, rabbit!” growled the unit commander.
But the rabbit wouldn’t stop, and his furry feet kicked the bowls all over our uniforms.
“Where’s the Trix?” he cried.
Later that afternoon, we nailed him up with the thieves and the loudmouth carpenter.
What a silly rabbit. Didn’t he know that Trix are for Yids?

Brush

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Mommy taught me well. I always brush my teeth before I go to bed.
Even the ones that have fallen out.
No, Mommy didn’t teach me that.
At first, I was just brushing the baby teeth in my drawer. But despite my regimen of brushing and flossing, there’s more teeth in there to brush now.
Whether in my mouth or in my drawer, thirty-two times for each tooth.
So, do you want the housekeeping job?
Yes?
Well, that’s great. You can start tomorrow.
Oh, and that thing you had asked about before – yes, we have a dental plan here.

Sulfur Neutral

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Grampa drove a really big Cadillac that got lousy gas mileage.
He’d owned it for as long as I could remember, and the cloud of smoke following us grew larger year after year.
“Why don’t you drive something friendlier to the environment?” I asked him.
“What?” he replied. “What is this environmental friendly crap?”
“Don’t you want to conserve energy and save the planet?” I said. “Or do you buy Carbon Neutral Offsets?”
Grampa thought for a moment. “No, I buy… um… Sulfur Neutrals.”
“Sulfur Neutrals?” I asked. “What are those?”
“Pull my finger,” said Grampa. “And you’ll find out.”