That’s no ordinary banana in a stone…
That’s Bananacalibur!
Sure, the Lady Of The Lake may have tossed a sword at Arthur, but when pulled it from the stone, The Clown Of The Crown stuck a banana in the hole.
What? What happens to the person who pulls it from the stone?
I guess they get a free banana.
Hey, just be careful what you do with the peel when you’re done with it.
If you slip on it, you become the next Clown Of The Crown.
And the Clown Of The Crown has some mighty big shoes to fill.
Tag: food
For The Soul
A friend told me to read “Chicken Soup For The Soul” so I went to the bookstore.
There were so many other books about chicken soup for various souls.
Shelves and shelves of books.
I don’t have time to read them all.
I was intimidated by all the different books, so I left the bookstore and went to the grocery store.
I reached for Campbell’s Chicken Soup, but then I saw Chicken And Stars, Chicken And Rice, Chunky Chicken And Noodle, a store generic…
Shelves and shelves of soup.
Wait… hold on…
Oh, I forgot: I’m allergic to chicken soup.
Puzzle
Owen is only a year old, but he solves puzzles.
He never puts the pieces in his mouth or tosses them into the air.
Instead, he picks out sides and corners and snaps the puzzle together quickly.
When he’s done, he moves on to the next puzzle.
No Legos.
No Tinkertoys, blocks or Lincoln Logs.
He smiles and waits for a puzzle.
I gave him an all-white puzzle, and he solved it just as quickly.
Monica left the fridge open this morning.
Owen crawled in, and started to assemble the food within.
That’s when we heard the moaning.
And screaming.
Humpty Pepsi
The sodas in the break room machines are free.
If you select the wrong one, you’re supposed to put it on the table for someone else to take.
Nobody ever does, though. They’re warm by then.
So, I took a diet Pepsi and put it on my cubicle divider.
I named it Humpty Pepsi.
After five months, a coworker’s elbow hit it, and it fell on the floor, spraying him and all of his stuff.
He was not amused.
I wasn’t either, because all of my horses and all of my men will never put Humpty Pepsi back together again.
Strawberries
Molly didn’t bother with a lawn around her house.
Instead, she had one big strawberry patch.
She raised strawberries year-round, making jams and preserves with them, or just filling up baskets, and giving those out as gifts to everyone.
Everyone thinks the scent in the evening is wonderful.
Except for one guy: Carl.
He was allergic to strawberries, and he threatened to sue.
One day, Carl vanished. Nobody ever saw him again.
But I suspect that Molly keeps him in some of those jars in her basement.
Good. Because he was an asshole.
And nobody liked him.
Thank you, Molly.
The Second Job
It’s been a long day, but it isn’t over yet.
Going home means one job ends and another begins: Being a mother.
It’s like work, but with none of the benefits.
The kids never greet me with “Hi, Mom!” or “Welcome home!”
It’s always “What are we having for dinner tonight?”
Well…
“Hold your mouth.
Close your eyes.
Open your mouth.
And here’s the big surprise.”
And then I stick a wad of pizza coupons in one of their mouths and my cell phone in the other.
Little shits will probably order three larges with anchovies on all of them.
The Circle Of Not Life
Poor Charlie Brown.
Every Halloween, we’d watch his Great Pumpkin Special, hoping he’d get candy, but he ended up getting a bag full of rocks.
I’d dream of Charlie, waking up before the break of dawn with that bag full of rocks, going from house to house, tossing those rocks through windows and yelling “ALL I WANTED WAS SOME GODDAMNED CANDY!”
Instead, I think he crafted Pet Rocks out of them and made a fortune selling them as Christmas gifts.
People got bored with them, and on Halloween, they’d drop them in Charlie’s bag again.
“SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!”
Candy Corn
Here at Boone Farms, we’ve been bit by this ass-nasty drought just like everybody else.
But instead of just watching our corn and soybeans and other of our traditional crops burn in the fields, we went all-in with a different crop:
Candy corn.
What? You think that stuff gets made in candy factories?
Boy, do you got your shit wrong there, son!
Candy corn grows on stalks just like the normal stuff, but it don’t need rain and sun.
Just corn syrup and coloring.
Plus, those Easter Peeps love this shit.
(But I must admit, I miss the chicken eggs.)
Bacon Stockings
As a society, we’re obsessed with bacon.
If it isn’t bacon-flavored, it looks like bacon.
I’ve seen a bacon-patterned knit scarf. It’s like wrapping a slice of bacon around your neck.
And I know a fashion designer who is making photograph-sourced bacon stockings.
They have the all striations and marbelization of natural bacon, very lifelike.
And very creepy.
But, if you think about it, it’s a lot more sanitary than using real bacon on your legs.
Sure, the grease will help them stick, but once a stray dog catches the scent, you’re going to get chased all the way home.
Job Market
The job market out there is tough, and everybody’s beefing up their resume with exaggerations and lies.
Me, I’m beefing up my resume with beef.
I started by sending my resume with the finest steaks packed in a cooler with dry ice.
The recruiter threw out the resume and ate the steaks.
Then, I developed a special dye to etch my resume on to the steaks.
The writing vanished as the steaks cooked.
Finally, I made sheets of jerky and printed the resume on those.
By then, the recruiter had died of a heart attack.
And I got his job.