Mustache Crime

Before World War 2, bottlebrush mustaches were a popular form of facial hair.
After World War 2, they weren’t popular at all for the obvious reasons.
Just as Japanese-Americans were rounded up and sent to internment camps after Pearl Harbor, bottlebrush mustaches were rounded up and sent to barber shops.
Using the sharpest razors, the bottlebrush mustaches were quickly and systematically dispatched and eliminated, washed down the drains in a foamy and messy river of stubble.
Some tried to escape as disguised as eyebrows. Others fled as landing strips.
To this day, Simon Wiesenthal’s barber continues to hunt them down.

The Cones

Usually, traffic cones are orange so you can see them at night. However, while I was walking back to the hotel, I saw a green traffic cone.
I picked it up and carried it back to the hotel, and I wore it as a hat for a selfie in the bathroom mirror.
I let it sleep on the other bed.
When I went down to the registration desk to check out, I left it in an elevator.
There are a lot of websites that sell traffic cones, but I don’t really want one now.
It’s just the moment, you know.

Just Google It

I don’t like to answer the same question twice, let alone a hundred times, so I tend to tell people to just Google something… I’ll say “Just Google it!”
If someone doesn’t know how to Google something, my answer won’t make any sense to them.
If someone is too busy to Google something themselves, then they are probably too impatient to listen to me and comprehend what I tell them.
If someone is too lazy to Google something themselves, then they’re probably too lazy to stop, drop, and roll when I drench them with gasoline and light them on fire.

Cables

I keep a recharging cord on my desk at work for my phone. I have another on my nightstand.
I keep a third one in my backpack so I have one with me all the time.
The cigarette lighter adapter came with a cord, too. So did the emergency recharging battery pack.
Pretty soon, I had hundreds of these cables. Too many cables to count. My cats were playing with these things, dragging them around. I can’t even eat spaghetti anymore because I end up biting into a cable.
Now if only I could remember where I left my phone.

Sun in your eye

My friend got married in an outdoor chapel this weekend.
Everyone was worried about the weather. Would it be too hot? Would it rain?
It turned out to be a nice sunny day.
The problem was, the seats faced West, and it was an evening ceremony. So by the time the bride and groom were exchanging rings, everybody was staring right into the fucking sun.
When the preacher asked if there were any objections, I stood up and filibustered the ceremony until the sun was down and we all could see.
The families were pissed, but the photographer thanked me.

Village of Idiots

Sappy has been the village idiot of Martinsdale for over forty years.
He’s the best village idiot that Martinsdale ever had, and Martinsdale has had a lot of good village idiots. Especially since the factory was built and began dumping all those chemicals upriver.
Folks from the government tested the water supply, and they gave those chemicals long funny names that nobody understands.
Sappy must have gotten a double dose of the stuff. He drools and howls and poops his pants better than anybody else.
The government threatens to close the Martinsdale factory. But we need the jobs.
Especially Sappy.

Frozen

A long time ago, when I was working support for a small public television station, I got a call from secretary in Marketing who said that her computer was frozen.
“Did you reboot the machine?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “It’s frozen. Frozen solid.”
I put down the phone and ran back to the Marketing Department.
Sure enough, the caterers for a fundraiser had dropped off ice and champagne, and the ice had spilled out on to the floor
The computer was encased in ice.
We left it outside to thaw, and salvaged what we could from the hard drive.

Pasteur

Louis Pasteur is famous for using heat to kill germs in liquids, such as beer and milk.
But this was all a cover up to hide the fact that he was a notorious serial killer.
Yep. He boiled his victims.
“Pasteurization” was originally what the press called a person who was boiled to death.
Pasteur was about to be arrested for dozens of murders when the whole “use heat to kill germs” defense came up.
The benefit to public health outweighed the risk to public safety, and Pasteur was released.
Let us raise a toast to Pasteur, that crazy bastard!

Sewer

When I was little, I had trouble with irregular words.
I thought someone who sewed was a sewer.
“It’s a seamstress,” said the teacher. “Sewer looks like sewer.”
Ever since then, I can’t get the image of a sewing machine under each sewer cover out of my head.
One day, I took an iron rod to a sewer cover, pried it open, and looked inside.
Nobody sewing down there. Just a bunch of rats and the worst smell I had ever smelled.
So, I tried to teach the rats to sew.
Instead of sewing needles, I get rabies needles.
Ouch.

The Stars Vanished

One moment, we were surrounded by stars. And the next moment, they were gone.
The heavens had gone completely black.
Women and children screaming in the dark.
So, I turned on the microphone and said to the audience: “Please stay in your seats. This is just a temporary technical issue.”
And I got out my flashlight to look at the fusebox.
The planetarium had tripped a breaker.
I reset it, rebooted the systems, and the stars came back.
Why didn’t the emergency exit lights come on?
I brought up the house lights, ushered people out, and called Facilities for repairs.