Tag: silly

The Heeling Power Of Prayer

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A few months ago, Wally lost his arm in a car crash.
The doctors tried to sew it back on, but it turned gangrenous and they had to cut it off again.
Since medicine wouldn’t give him his arm back, he turned to religion.
So Wally prayed for a miracle, but his arm never grew back.
Frustrated, he went to his church and asked his priest.
“Why won’t my arm grow back?” yelled Wally. “I keep praying, but God doesn’t answer.”
“God can’t hear you because you’re doing it wrong,” said the priest. “It takes two hands to pray, stupid.”

The Scurvy Dog

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“Stowaway! Stowaway!”
“Grab the landlubber!” shouted the Captain. “Make him walk the plank!”
The crew grabbed the man and the First Mate slid the plank out, but it fell overboard and floated away.
“Well, shiver me timbers,” said the Captain, “What will we make him walk now?”
“We could make him walk the dog,” said the First Mate.
“Yarr,” said the Captain, releasing the stowaway and handing him a plastic bag. “Be sure to pick up all the dog crap.”
“Why?” asked the stowaway.
“We don’t want this to turn into a poop deck, you see,” said the First Mate.

Happy Coup Year

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I gotta tell you, it’s good to be king.
Man, what a party last night. Whole country was out saying goodbye to the old year and ringing in the new year.
Of course, those party-pooper rebels had to shoot up the decorations and my security guards.
Why do people insist on firing guns on New Years? Don’t they know that people get hurt that way?
It didn’t last long. My troops overwhelmed the guerrillas and they’re now in jail.
All I need to do is…
Ha ha ha… caught myself dating a death warrant with 2006.
Happy New Year, everyone.

Profit And Prophet

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Jerry Bruckheimer finished his pitch.
Sumner Redstone raised an eyebrow and imagined the protests and burning.
“No,” he said “Hell no.”
“But he helps the police solve crimes no one else can,” said Bruckheimer. “And he’s a prophet.”
“We are not doing CSI: Mecca,” said Sumner. “Not after all that cartoon crap in Denmark.”
“Not the same,” said Bruckheimer. “We won’t film his face. We’ll film over his shoulder, or just his shadow over the desk and casefiles.”
“No,” said Sumner.
“And we’ve got Tony Shalhoub signed up for it,” said Bruckheimer.
Sumner leaned forward and smiled. “Tell me more…”

Refrigerator magnets

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Lois looked at all of the refrigerators and compared their features, but she couldn’t make up her mind which one of them to buy.
The salesclerk said, “I think I can help you.” He led her to a circular room with refrigerators of every brand and model along the perimeter.
Then, he handed her a refrigerator magnet.
“Close your eyes and spin!” he commanded.
She did so.
“Now… throw!” he shouted.
She threw the magnet.
“Stop and open your eyes,” he said.
She’d thrown the magnet at the door they came in through.
“Just buy the damn Whirlpool,” he sighed.

Fabio Sucks

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I’m just as stunned as you are. Fabio was a great spokesman for “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.”
I guess his vampiric transformation was just too gruesome.
Such a waste.
And that’s what fooled us all – the hair, the muscles. Who knew he was so brilliant with chemistry?
It didn’t take him long to get labspace at Unilever to develop a cruetly-free food source for himself.
Not only will “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Blood!” eliminate any fear of transfusion-related ailments like AIDS and Hep-C, but it’s damn tasty, too.
Still, every now and then I miss draining someone.

The Cute

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Warden Wilson’s motto was “We put the ‘cute’ in electrocution.”
His first order of business was to replace the old wooden electric chair with a comfortable electric couch.
Fresh flowers and rustic decorations adorned Death Row to give it a “homey” feel. Lots of framed needlepoint, and the bars were replaced with delicate wrought iron.
When the guards’ union balked at the duck and the bunny suits, Wilson flew into a berserk rage.
“Fine!” he shouted. “Forget about the flowers and hugs… you can keep your stupid batons and guns!”
Wilson’s bludgeoned and shot body was found the next day.

The Tenth Commandment

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Moses waited for the tablets to cool before picking them up.
“Are you going to keep these,” asked God. “or are you going to be a prick and smash them again?”
“My blood sugar was low,” said Moses. “And besides, you had some pretty bad spelling errors on that last pair.”
“It’s not my fault you dumb Jews don’t write down vowels,” said God.
“‘Thou shalt spell Michelle with one L?'” said Moses. “What the hell is that about? Who the fuck is Michele?”
“Hurry up, messenger boy,” said God. “Your people are going nuts again.”
Moses bowed and left.

Running On Empty

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I wake up, smelling… burnt meat?
Everything’s swimmy and wild.
Am I drugged?
There’s a swirling, kaleidoscope medic standing over me. He moves his lips, but I can’t understand what he’s saying.
He writes on a card, holds it up: “Do you hear that beeping sound?”
I try to shake my head, but it’s strapped down.
“No,” I say.
I can feel myself saying No, but I can’t hear it.
The medic writes more: “What do you remember?”
“I was checking the gas can. Then, I saw a bright flash, and then… this.”
The medic writes again: “With a lighter?”

Tiny Dancer

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As I’m sorting through my Inbox, tossing out spam and endless discussion threads, my littlest cat jumps up on top of my desk, sticks her tail in her mouth, and does a little mewing pirouette.
“Mew!” she squeaks. “Mew! Mew! Mew!”
It’s cute and silly, but after a minute of this I get a little concerned.
Is something wrong?
“What is it, Piper?” I ask.
She stops and looks me straight in the eye, tail still in her mouth.
“Mew!” she insists.
And she goes back to turning circles on the desk with her tail.
What a weird little cat.