Aquaman never gets any respect.
Sure, he’s in the Justice League, but what can he do?
He can swim. And he can talk to fish.
This doesn’t faze criminals in the slightest. Unless they’re robbing the aquarium. Which never happens.
However, he filled a super-soaker with Vietnamese fermented fish sauce, and things took a turn for the better.
Now, criminals are scared that they’ll get dowsed with the stinky crap.
Okay, compared to getting punched in the face by Batman or thrown into orbit by Superman, it’s nothing, but that stuff’s a bitch to wash out.
Just shoot him, boys.
Tag: food
Name Calling
Oh, the nasty name-calling!
Everybody calls Denzel an Oreo because he’s black, but he acts white.
Sung gets called a Twinkie because he’s Japanese, but he acts white.
Then there’s Morito. She’s gets called a coconut because she’s Samoan, but she acts white.
As long as there’s food that’s white on the inside, there will be racism.
Heck, there’s a food lab in New Jersey that’s working on a green food that is white on the inside so we can insult Martians who act white.
All these food-based insults explain why people are so damn fat these days.
And racists.
Tornado Soup
At first, I thought my son had asked for tomato soup.
“No,” said Owen. “I want tornado soup.”
Tornado soup?
I looked in the pantry. “We don’t have any. How about vegetable?”
Owen shook his head.
“Clam chowder?”
“Yuck.”
“Chicken and stars?”
“I want Tornado!” he yelled.
Yelling is a no-no in our house, and Owen spent the rest of the day in his room, without supper.
Or, so I thought.
That night, I checked on him.
His room was a mess. Everything tossed around and knocked over.
Like a tornado had hit it.
“It was delicious,” mumbled Owen, half-asleep.
Cadbury Sperm
My degree is in Biology.
I chose that field because I wanted to find the answers to all the mysteries in life.
So, when I received a basket full of Cadbury eggs for Easter, I wondered where all the Cadbury sperm were.
Did Mr. Cadbury have a vasectomy? Or is he sterile?
Maybe he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and he had them frozen in a sperm bank before the radiation treatment.
But then, at least they’d be in the freezer section, right?
I asked my grocer where the Cadbury sperm were, and he threw me out of the store.
Pregnant
Strange things happen to women while they’re pregnant.
They sometimes have cravings for foods they never liked before. On the other hand, they reach for their favorite foods, only to discover that they taste repulsive and disgusting.
One friend who is pregnant used to like horseradish, but now find that they have a hard time with it.
So, I told her to give the horseradish a hard time back.
Instead of refrigerating the bottle after opening it like the label says, put it outside on a railing where it might tip over and fall.
That’ll show the fucker who’s boss.
Can of worms
Where did the expression “can of worms” come from?
Well, long ago, bait shops would sell worms in pails with lids.
If you wanted to bait a hook, you had to pry off the lid and pull out a worm.
Once the pail was open, you had to close it back up. Otherwise, the worms would crawl out and escape.
So, it’s not the opening a can of worms that’s a problem, but not putting the lid back on it.
If you use worms.
I catch fish with dynamite. To blow a hole in the wall of the fish market.
Mean
I woke up feeling mean today.
So, I was mean to some oranges and squeezed them until I had juice.
Then I battered some pancake batter until I had pancakes.
The butter was whipped and tortured.
And I beat the crap out of a maple tree to make syrup before I chopped it down for firewood.
Grits? What the fuck are grits? Who gives a shit about grits?
When my breakfast was ready, I threw it all into the trash, and I went back to bed.
Maybe later I’ll order a pizza.
Don’t expect a tip, you stupid delivery boy.
Covered
I took a girl to the fanciest restaurant in town, and we had the best wine and lobster meal we ever had.
The waiter asked us if we left any room for desert.
“Absolutely,” we both said.
He brought out the desert tray, but nothing looked appetizing at all.
“Perhaps you’d like to sample a little first?” he asked.
We did.
None of it was any good.
So instead, we went to her place and covered each other from head to toe in a shower of chocolate.
We completely forgot to get strawberries and marshmallows to dip.
Somehow, we managed.
Mistake
Mother said that bread always manages to land buttered side down.
So, I buttered all the bread we had and, slice after slice, dropped it on the kitchen floor.
Some of it landed with the buttered side down, and some of it landed with the buttered side up.
I asked my mother for more bread, and she asked me why.
I took her into the kitchen, and she saw the mess I had made.
She gave me the spanking of my life.
These days, I look back and I laugh at my childish mistake.
I forgot to toast it first.
Thanksrobbing
Over the river, and through the woods to the prison where grandmother’s serving time for armed robbery.
“Social Security and Medicare suck,” said grandmother. “But if you’re in prison, you get everything covered.”
Prison food’s bad, and it’s actually better than the crap Meals On Wheels brought to her run-down apartment every day.
So, instead of clipping coupons and looking at cans of cat food at the end of the month, she robbed a bank.
We brought a pumpkin pie. She pulls out the file, and throws it at me.
“Don’t do that again,” she says. “I like it here.”