The Bolton kid vanished after school, so we got together a search party.
We had such a good time looking, when we found the kid in the woods, we shooed him away.
“We’re having too good of a time looking for you,” we said. “Quit ruining our fun! Get lost.”
The kid cried and ran off, and we started having fun looking for him again.
The Boltons were angry, however.
“How could you do that?” they shouted.
When they joined the search party, though, they realized how fun it was.
“I hope he never comes home!” shouts Mrs. Bolton gleefully.
Tag: silly
Bodyguard
Many years ago I was rich, but how I got rich did not sit well with those I got rich off of, so I hired a bodyguard.
My bodyguard turned out to be one of the people I had gotten rich off of, so I hired a bodyguard to protect me from my bodyguard.
But that bodyguard had gotten rich off of my original bodyguard, so he was loyal to that man and not me, so I hired another bodyguard.
All these bodyguards bankrupted me.
My former bodyguard, who had gotten rich off of me, hired me… as a bodyguard.
The Sleep Till Noon Gene
My friend Mikey hates waking up early every day.
He wishes he had the Sleep Till Noon gene.
What he doesn’t know is that such a gene exists, and a well-known bioengineering firm has recently sequenced it.
Most of their research is still in the lab, but they have applied for a patent with a genetically-modified corn with the gene.
It’s corn that sleeps till noon.
The idea behind it is that the corn will sleep till noon, so the farmer can harvest it while it sleeps.
Cruelty-free corn harvesting!
(Unlike normal genetically-modified corn, which screams really loud when harvested.)
That Pumpkin
Back in college, we had pumpkin carving contests.
All of the pumpkins were sent to the children’s ward of a nearby hospital.
Well, almost all.
Everybody else made your typical not-very-scary faces and outlines of flying witches.
I made a screaming face and stuck a saw through the top.
Then I mixed ketchup and quickdrying paint to add the effect of dripping blood.
“Don’t you know this is for kids in the hospital?” they asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Wait… it’s not a mental hospital?”
Oops. My mistake.
Really, I figured the saw could be handy for cutting through the bars.
The Land of The Lost
Every time I do laundry, I always find an extra sock or shirt in there.
Extra knives show up in my kitchen drawers. Strange keys and wallets on my nightstand.
It’s frustrating, but it happens to everyone, right?
My grandmother told me about a place where things disappeared all the time: socks from the laundry, keys from your pocket, and even pickles off of hamburgers you got from the drive-through window.
“And they show up here,” she said.
People called her crazy, and one day, she wasn’t in her room.
I wonder if she showed up in the other place.
The Women Who Dance With Frogs
Come with me to the docks
On the edge of the swamp
To see the women who dance with frogs.
Through the reeds, Through the weeds
Can you see?
Watch the women who dance with frogs.
Hear the music of the croaks
As the women get soaked
Why are there women who dance with frogs?
Gathered up in their sacks
Go the frogs, tasty snacks!
Feast the women who dance with frogs.
Here they come! Here they come!
Hop away! Hop away!
Do not stay!
And we shall live to dance another day.
With the women who dance with frogs.
Bananas will protect you
Every morning, I grab a banana from the kitchen and head to work.
The banana is there to protect me.
From what?
I have no willpower. I cannot resist the breakfast shops along the way to work.
But the moment I catch the smell: donuts… kolaches… breakfast tacos…
I peel the banana and take a bite.
Instead of being tempted by the unhealthy fare, I eat my banana and make it into work.
As I toss the peel into the trash, I look up and see…
Someone brought in a box of donuts.
(That’s when I pull out my sledgehammer.)
The Jobs Report
We all wait outside The Department of Labor, waiting for The Jobs Report.
A small man in a suit walks outside, steps up to the podium, and removes a manilla folder from his briefcase.
He takes off his glasses, wipes them with a handkerchief, and puts them back on.
The crowd is silent as he opens the folder, looks through the documents inside, and selects a single sheet.
He cleans his glasses again, puts them back on, and reads The Jobs Report:
“One,” he says. “Mine.”
He breathes a sigh of relief, looks around, and runs back inside the building.
Don’t believe the frog
No, you’re not imagining things. That frog out by the castle gate can talk.
Let me guess: he says he’s a prince, and all you have to do is kiss him to change him back?
Yeah, that’s true. But he’s not telling you the whole story.
Sure, he’s a prince, but he was changed into a frog because he had been bitten by a werewolf.
Since the castle’s healer doesn’t have a cure for lycanthropy, he had the court magician turn the prince into a frog.
So go ahead. Kiss him. Be my guest.
Get your damn throat torn out.
Nervous reaction
As a nuclear scientist, I’m familiar with chain reactions and have made a career of harnessing and controlling them.
If not enough atoms get excited, the reaction dies out.
If too many get excited, the reaction gets out of control and…
Well, let’s just say the least of it is that I lose my job.
Not that I’m worried about that. I’m really good with chain reactions.
Well, usually good.
However, when it comes to nervous reactions, I’m completely hopeless.
One person in a crowd gets excited.
Then two.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
I guess shouting “RADIATION LEAK!” doesn’t help.