When my wife and I married, we lived in an apartment. Our dream was to own a house. For many years, we’ve exchanged holiday and birthday gifts to realize that dream. Finally that day arrived. We had enough bricks. (That was the gift.) I called a construction company to build our house. After they finished and we moved in, my wife and I started phase two – adding a roof. It’s an exciting time for us.
I received a phone call from a tele-marketer conducting a survey. They wanted my opinion on peanut butter and laundry detergent.
“What do you put your peanut butter on?”
“On a sandwich.”
“Next is laundry detergent,” she continued.
“I don’t put that on,” I said.
“On a sandwich.”
“Of course not. No one puts laundry detergent on a sandwich.”
“But you asked me that,” I said.
“I only asked you what you put peanut butter on-“
“And then you said, and I’m quoting, ‘Next is laundry detergent’, asking what I put that on.”
“Are you saying that you didn’t say, ‘Next is laundry detergent’?”
“Yes, I said that,” she hesitated. “But-“
“Are you trying to poison me?”
“No, of course not,” she stuttered.
There was silence for several seconds before she hung up on me.
“That’s one tele-marketer that will never call me again,” I thought.
Finally started using my vacuum to clean the floors in my house. I was using mine to wash the dishes. I wondered why I kept getting electric shocks.
With the disappointment I have encountered in dating, I have developed an approach to help weed out the bad choices.
1st – I invite the young lady to my home and cook her a meal made from cat food.
2nd – I sue her for everything she’s got.
3rd – I have her do the laundry of all my neighbors.
4th – She has to be earning a 6-figure income.
If the above items are met, then I know my dream girl has arrived. To date, none have passed number 3.
If a couch potato eats a real potato is that cannibalism?
Growing up was especially difficult in my family because my mother did everything she could to prevent it.
My buddy asked me who my favorite superhero was. I named a forgotten character he wouldn’t know.
Without batting an eye, he said, “You like him? BORING!”
“Well, who do YOU like?” I said, stunned.
“All the usual ones, but one in particular is my favorite. You probably never heard of him,” he said, dismissively.
“I’ve heard of everybody!”
“Hardboiled Egg Man.”
“You’re making that up,” I said, annoyed.
“Nope!” he said, showing me a comic book featuring “Hardboiled Egg Man”.
We attended the ComicCon. I went dressed as a popular superhero. No one cared. My buddy went as Hardboiled Egg Man. Thousands wanted his autograph. He won first place in all the costume events.
I’m searching for a hit man who specializes in cracking open hard boiled eggs.
I met a scientist with an unorthodox view of the dinosaurs. He said that if the Tyrannosaurus rex didn’t have such small hands, they could’ve built a missile to blow up the asteroid that hit the Earth thus preventing their extinction.
“But they weren’t intelligent creatures,” I said.
“Says who? Other scientists? Idiots! All of them,” he stated, defiantly. “I was digging for fossils and you know what I found? A dinosaur holding a videotape!”
“How do you know it was a videotape?” I asked.
“Because it was a VHS,” he said.
“Were you able to watch the tape?” I asked.
“Yea,” the scientist said, smiling. “Some dinosaur making a bagel and cream cheese sandwich.”
I just stared at him.
“You hungry?” he asked. “I’m buying.”