Dr. Frankenstein burst into the grocery store and ran straight for the produce section.
“Damn that Igor!” he growled as he reached for a bag of Romaine hearts.
Only an hour ago, Frankenstein had thrown a head of Iceberg lettuce to the lab floor.
“I need a heart, not a head!” he shouted.
“Sorry, Master!” Igor had slurred. “I’ll go back to the gro-”
“No!” shouted Frankenstein. “I’ll get it myself!”
By the time Frankenstein returned to the castle, the lightning had stopped.
He’d have to perform his experiments some other stormy day.
He shrugged, and prepared a Caesar salad.
Tag: silly
Bingo Pong
Ted and Jerry the orderlies play a lot of Ping Pong.
When the rec room ran out of Ping Pong balls, they took one out of the Bingo drum without telling anyone.
Folks didn’t notice that B-7 was missing until Old Lucky Gertie lost seven rounds in a row and demanded a count.
Pastor Fred dumped out the balls and checked, and sure enough, B-7 was missing.
Pastor Fred had a riot on his hands, with geezers throwing cards and markers everywhere.
Ted and Jerry saw the ruckus, broke up the fights, and quietly slipped B-7 back into the drum.
Baby
My friend just had a baby.
Another friend had one recently.
Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like, to be a father.
Then, I look at my father… well, think of my father, because I haven’t actually seen him in two years, and I don’t call my parents much.
I’m not even sure what he looks like now. In fact, he could be standing right here next to me, holding out his hand and expecting a tip for hauling my luggage to my hotel suite while I tap out this story.
If so, I don’t tip. Even you, Dad.
Pitbulls
My coworker owns Pitbulls, and he’s always saying how the media gets them wrong.
“They’re wonderful dogs,” he says. “People just raise them to do horrible things.”
Well, he says that when he’s not telling me about the latest thing they’ve destroyed, like a door frame or feature pillows.
“But I’ve signed them up for a 6 week obedience course.”
Sure enough, six weeks later, he’s proud of his dogs.
“I’d show you the certificates, but I left them on the countertop and they chewed them to bits.”
Maybe the trainer was too scared of them to hand out Fs?
Taco Juggler
Are you the man who juggles tacos?
Because, if you are, well, I am the man who juggles burritos.
However, one day I hope to have the skill to juggle tacos. Like you do.
How do you do it without spilling anything from those taco shells?
How do you do it without breaking the shells?
And most importantly: how can you stand them?
Tacos are disgusting. Dust and flies can get in there.
At least a burrito is a closed environment. A self-contained universe of food.
But the world does not want burrito jugglers. Only taco jugglers.
Teach me, master!
Mr. Moneybags
I’d never want all the money in the world.
If I had all the money in the world, that would mean that nobody else would have any. And they’d constantly ask me for some.
“Hey, Mister Moneybags, can you spare a few bucks? I want to buy a sandwich.” And I’d say “Of course.” And I’d pull out a hundred. “Can you break a hundred?”
Of course not.
I guess the world’s economy would collapse. Or turn to barter.
So, instead of all of it, I just want as much of it as I can get.
Just like everybody else.
Steven
My roommate Steve isn’t from around here.
Oh, and his name isn’t Steve.
In the local dialect, Steve’s name translates to “Can I have a motherfucking epidural now?”
You see, his mother tried to give birth to him naturally, but things went horribly wrong, and instead of a brief period of contractions and labor, she was wracked with agony for three days.
We call him Steve because that other name is just too hard to say, with all the clicks and pops and growls. Plus, it scares the cat.
Problem is, my name is Steve, too.
Okay, call me Steven.
The Crime
It was a sunny day without a cloud in the sky when Bert killed Ernie.
After all those years together, Ernie only wanted to share his bathtub with his rubber duckie.
And all those stupid, annoying questions.
The last thing Ernie said was “Why is it Sesame Street instead of Sesame Court?”
Bert snapped.
A few hours later, Bert called the police and confessed.
The police said they’d send someone to pick him up.
Three hours later, the police unit had gotten lost on the way.
The officer called Bert: “Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?”
Tattoos
VERSION 1:
Unlike ice cream trucks and their melodic chimes playing Turkey In The Straw or Pop Goes The Weasel, Ted’s Tattoo Truck announces its presence with Metallica’s Enter Sandman.
He usually parks it outside of schools and offers up a wide range of temporary tattoos, from snarling demons to Hello Kitty. But every now and then, a company will hire him to print up their logo or latest marketing buzzword for a corporate picnic.
His original plan was to offer real tattoos, but those take too long to create.
Temporary tattoos allow repeat business, and don’t piss off parents as much.
VERSION 2:
Do you hear that?
That’s not Pop Goes The Weasel, or Turkey in the Straw.
That’s Metallica’s Enter Sandman on the jangly jinglechimes of Ted’s Temporary Tattoo Truck!
It’s been a while since he was last at our school.
Our moms and dads were so angry. But Ted’s lawyer was angrier, and now Ted’s back! Hoorah!
What will you get?
A unicorn? A demon? A Hello Kitty?
A Harry Potter forehead lightning bolt scar?
I’m going to get Mom on a heart for my arm. Maybe get a whole sheet of them.
Because who knows when he’ll be back again.
Tony
Ever notice that there’s a lot of guys named Tony in New Jersey?
I noticed. I asked around.
It’s because of the forms they fill out for birth certificates.
Instead of there being a line for First Name, it’s two checkboxes next to Tony.
The first box is Yo, the other box is Fuggedaboudit.
And there’s no space to write in a name if you check No, so most people say fuggedaboutit and just go ahead and check Yes.
Okay, so some guys are called Anthony, and the chicks get called Toni, but it’s all the same.
Right, Tony?
Right.