People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.
Visitors shouldn’t throw them, either.
In fact, nobody should be throwing stones around glass houses.
Are there glass houses? I’ve seen houses with outer walls of glass, but I’ve never seen a house made entirely of glass.
The furniture and carpeting’s not made of glass, right?
Maybe the clever scientists at Corning are working on that. If they can invent fiber optics, they can invent a glass house.
And it would be shatter-resistant too.
Unlike that window you broke playing baseball in the yard.
That’s coming out of your allowance, Bobby.
Tag: silly
The Bear
I recently heard an old man say “Some days you eat the bear, and other days the bear eats you.”
What the hell does that mean?
If you eat the bear, it can’t eat you because it’s dead and you ate it.
Unless you just ate part of it, like a leg, a paw, or the tail.
If the bear eats you, it’s very unlikely that you’ll eat it.
Because a bear’s not just going to eat a leg or bite a chunk out of you without killing you.
Besides, bear probably tastes awful.
Stick to cheeseburgers.
Or a salad.
At your expense
According to the company’s expense report policy, alcohol may not be expensed unless a Vice President or above is present at the event and approves of the expense.
This makes for a very difficult situation if the Vice President is giving you such a hard time at the event that you are driven to crawl away and drink yourself stupid. Because the next morning, when you sober up in a pile of empty bottles, it’s going to be difficult to get approval for the expense.
And that’s assuming you wake up with receipts in your pockets, let alone your pants.
Scratching Backs
Whenever someone says “You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours” I feel uncomfortable.
In order for us to scratch each others backs at the same time, we’ll need to get awfully close to each other, and facing each other.
We’ll look awfully silly that way, and not that I have anything against people of differing sexual preference, I’d rather not get a reputation for that behavior.
“We’re just scratching each others backs!” I say.
“Oh, sure you are,” you say, and wink.
Sure, we could take turns, but who goes first?
We toss a coin, and both call heads.
Bluesman
The story that Robert Johnson went down to the crossroads and sold his soul to The Devil to become the greatest guitarist in the world is totally bogus.
However, the story that Rabbi Hiram Goldberg sold his soul to God to become the greatest washboard player is absolutely true.
Why he wanted to become the greatest washboard player is a bit of a mystery, but when given the option to drag your fingers along a washboard with a hillbilly band and to stick your mouth on a disgusting ram’s horn every year, I’d choose the washboard, too.
Play, Rabbi! Play!
Why do birds
Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near?
This is a trick question, right?
It’s because you’re covered with bird seed.
How do you do it? How is it sticking to your body?
Is it some kind of spray-on adhesive? Caramel? Office Depot gluestick?
Either way, it’s really kind of weird.
When the birds pick the seed off, does it hurt?
And do you scrape it all off at the end of the day, or do you wash it off?
I’m just curious, that’s all. And I’m sick of gluing dog biscuits to my body to attract dogs.
That’s Absurd
What if maple trees used our blood to make a syrup for their pancakes?
That’s absurd. Maple trees don’t eat pancakes.
What if pigs used our skin to make a ball to play games with?
That’s absurd. Pigs don’t play football.
What if elephants used our teeth to make billiard balls.
That’s absurd. Elephants don’t play pool.
Or so I thought.
I watched the elephant chalk his cue and run the table on a young punk.
The kid put down another hundred. And lost it just as quickly.
The elephant pointed his cue at me.
“No thanks, shark,” I said.
Faster
Professor Chandar Vapagee spent decades pushing the boundaries of physics.
And failing.
So it was a great surprise when he announced to his class that he’d developed a faster-than-light engine.
It was an even bigger surprise that it was set up in the middle of the lecture hall.
“Ten seconds to ignition!” shouted the professor.
Most of the students ran for the exits but some stayed to watch…
Three… two… one…
The machine vanished, and the professor fell to the floor.
“Oh, it works,” he told the department chair. “Now I need to work on the whole passenger compartment thing.”
A Bunch Of Babies
Our country’s compulsory military service begins at birth.
The infantry is literally made up of infants.
And the air force’s recruits spend their days fed by spoon while drill sergeants shout HERE COMES THE AIRPLANE INTO THE HANGAR! ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Oh, and the navy spends its time in the wading pool on the lawn, splashing around and squealing.
Sure, they have issues marching and holding rifles and maintaining advanced radar-jamming equipment, and then there’s the discipline issues with “the terrible twos,” but all in all, they’re a good bunch.
Oh, and our large arsenal of tactical nuclear weapons. Those help too.
Not A Prophet
The press says that God talks to Jimmy, but that’s nonsense.
Jimmy can hear God talking, but he’s only overhearing what God is saying.
According to Jimmy, it’s a constant stream of mathematics. At first, Jimmy tried to copy it down, but he didn’t know mathematical notation.
Until the researchers taught him how.
Formula after formula, solution after solution. His notebooks contain tangled nightmares that Bertrand Russell and Einstein couldn’t have comprehended.
I watch him write, then erase what he wrote, write again.
Jimmy laughed. “God stutters.”
The lightning was quick; a charred desk and ashes were all that remained.