A funny thing to do is, if you're out hiking and your friend gets bitten by a poisonous snake, tell him you're going to go for help, then go about ten feet and pretend that *you* got bit by a snake. Then start an argument with him about who's going to go get help. A lot of guys will start crying. That's why it makes you feel good when you tell them it was just a joke.
A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. "Hear that?" you say. "That's dynamite, baby."
A man doesn't automatically get my respect. He has to get down in the dirt and beg for it.
Ambition is like a frog sitting on a Venus Flytrap. The flytrap can bite and bite, but it won't bother the frog because it only has little tiny plant teeth. But some other stuff could happen and it would be like ambition.
Any man, in the right situation, is capable of murder. But not any man is capable of being a good camper. So, murder and camping are not as similar as you might think.
Anybody who has an identity problem had better wise up and get with the program!
Anytime I see something screech across a room and latch onto someone's neck, and the guy screams and tries to get it off, I have to laugh, because what is that thing?
As I bit into the nectarine, it had a crisp juiciness about it that was very pleasurable - until I realized it wasn't a nectarine at all, but a HUMAN HEAD!
As the evening sky faded from a salmon color to a sort of flint gray, I thought back to the salmon I caught that morning, and how gray he was, and how I named him Flint.
As the sleek new sports car wound its way up the tortuous road, Henri thought back to the torture he had received ten minutes ago. "Ah, air conditioning", he thought as he aimed the vents toward the numerous whip marks on his legs, chest, and groin area.
As the snow started to fall, he tugged his coat tighter around himself. Too tight, as it turned out. "This is the fourth coat crushing this year", said the sergeant as he outlined the body with a special pencil that writes on snow.
As we were driving, we saw a sign that said, "Watch for Rocks." Marta said it should read "Watch for Pretty Rocks." I told her she should write in her suggestion to the highway department, but she started saying it was a joke - just to get out of writing a simple letter! And I thought I was lazy!
Better not take a dog on the Space Shuttle, because if he sticks his head out when you're coming home, his face might burn up.
Blow ye winds, like the trumpet blows; but without that noise.
Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis.
Even though he was and enemy of mine, I had to admit that what he had accomplished was a brilliant piece of strategy. First, he punched me, then he kicked me, then he punched me again.
At first I thought, if I were Superman, a perfect secret identity would be "Clark Kent, Dentist," because you could save money on tooth X-rays. But then I thought, if a patient said, "How's my back tooth?" and you just looked at it with your X-ray vision and said, "Oh it's okay," then the patient would probably say, "Aren't you going to take an X-ray, stupid?" and you'd say, "Aw fuck you, get outta here," and then he probably wouldn't even pay his bill.
Contrary to what most people say, the most dangerous animal in the world is not the lion or the tiger or even the elephant. It's a shark riding on an elephant's back, just trampling and eating everything they see.
Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let's say you're an astronaut on the moon and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon pieces, wham!, you just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Think again, bat man."
Folks still remember the day ole Bob Riley came bouncing down that dirt road in his pickup. Pretty soon, it was bouncing higher and higher. The tires popped, and the shocks broke, but that truck kept bouncing. Some say it bounced clean over the moon, but whoever says that is a goddamn liar.
He was a cowboy, mister, and he loved the land. He loved it so much he made a woman out of dirt and married her. But when he kissed her, she disintegrated. Later, at the funeral, when the preacher said, "Dust to dust," some people laughed, and the cowboy shot them. At his hanging, he told the others, "I'll be waiting for you in heaven - with a gun."
He was a spy, all right, and he knew it. He would walk into a room and people would go, "Who the fuck is that guy, a spy?" He'd laugh to himself, maybe pull out his gun and show it to the person, to kind of impress him (but not to show off). Sometimes spying was dirty work. Sometimes he'd kill a guy, then paint a clown face on his face. Nobody said he had to do that, but he did it anyway. So, dirty work.
He was the kind of man who was not ashamed to show affection. I guess that's what I hated about him.
Here's a good joke to do during an earthquake: straddle a big crack in the ground, and if it opens wider, go "Whoa! Whoa!" and flail your arms around, like you're going to fall in.
Here's a good trick: Get a job as a judge at the Olympics. Then, if some guy sets a world record, pretend that you didn't see it and go, "Okay, is everybody ready to start now?"
I'd like to be buried Indian-style, where they put you up on a high rack, above the ground. That way, you could get hit by meteorites and not even feel it.
I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those really high notes, I bet you can really see it in those genitals.
I'd rather be rich than stupid.
I bet it's hard to break farmers of the old superstitions like "Tornado got Old Yeller, stay in the cellar."
I bet it was pretty hard to pick up girls if you had the Black Death.
I'll be the first to admit that my idea of God is pretty different. I believe in a God with a long white beard, a gold crown, and a long robe with lots of shiny jewels on it. He sits on a big throne in the clouds, and He's about five hundred feet tall. He talks in a real deep voice like "I...AM...GOD!" He can blow up stuff just by looking at it. This is my own, personal idea of God.
I bet a fun thing would be to go way back in time to where there was going to be an eclipse and tell the cave men, "If I have come to destroy you, may the sun be blotted out from the sky." Just then the eclipse would start, and they'd probably try to kill you or something, but then you could explain about the rotation of the moon and all, and everyone would get a good laugh.
I bet for an Indian, shooting a old fat pioneer woman in the back with an arrow, and she fires her shotgun into the ground as she falls over, is like the top thing you can do.
I bet the main reason the police keep people away from a plane crash is they don't want anybody walking in and lying down in some crash stuff, then, when somebody comes up, act like they just woke up and go, "What was THAT?!"
I bet the one legend that keeps recurring throughout history, in every culture, is the story of Popeye.
I bet when the Neanderthal kids would make a snowman, someone would always end up saying, "Don't forget the thick, heavy brows." Then they would all get embarrassed because they remembered they had the big hunky brows too, and they'd get mad and eat the snowman.
I can see why it would be prohibited to throw most things off the top of the Empire State Building, but what's wrong with little bits of cheese? They probably break down into their various gases before they even hit.
I can still recall old Mister Barnslow getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of tadpoles to the old board of his. Then he'd spin it round and round, like a wheel of fortune, and no matter where it stopped he'd yell out, "Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!" We all thought he was crazy. But then we had some growing up to do.
I don't guess I've ever been as scared as when I was waiting in the principal's office. Finally he came in and sat down. He didn't say anything, he just looked at me. Then he pulled a copy of Playboy out. "Is this yours?" he said. "No," I said, "is this yours?" And I pulled out my penis. I guess I wasn't as scared as I thought.
I don't think I'm alone when I say I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system.
I don't understand people who say life is a mystery, because what is it they want to know?
I guess I kinda lost control, because in the middle of the play I ran up and lit the evil puppet villain on fire. No, I didn't. Just kidding. I just said that to help illustrate one of the human emotions, which is freaking out. Another emotion is greed, as when you kill someone for money, or something like that. Another emotion is generosity, as when you pay someone double what he paid for his stupid puppet.
I guess more bad things have been done in the name of progress than any other. I myself have been guilty of this. When I was a teenager, I stole a car and drove it out into the desert and set it on fire. When the police showed up, I just shrugged and said, "Hey, progress." Boy, did I have a lot to learn.
I guess we were all guilty, in a way. We all shot him, we all skinned him, and we all got a complimentary bumper sticker that read, "I helped skin Bob."
I hate it when people say somebody has a "speech impediment", even if he does, because it could hurt his feelings. So instead, I call it a "speech improvement", and I go up to the guy and say, "Hey, Bob, I like your speech improvement." I think this makes him feel better.
I have to laugh when I think of the first cigar, because it was probably just a bunch of rolled-up tobacco leaves.
I hope, when they die, cartoon characters have to answer for their sins.
I hope if dogs ever take over the world, and they choose a king, they don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.
I hope in the future Americans are thought of as a warlike, vicious people, because I bet a lot of high schools would pick 'Americans' as their mascot.
I read that when the archaeologists dug down into the ancient cemetery, they found fragments of *human bones*! What kind of barbarians were these people, anyway?
I remember that one fateful day when Coach too me aside. I knew what was coming. "You don't have to tell me," I said. "I'm off the team, aren't I?" "Well," said Coach, "you never were really ON the team. You made that uniform you're wearing out of rags and towels, and your helmet is a toy space helmet. You show up at practice and then either steal the ball and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times." It was all true what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this Coach. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that's when I felt the handcuffs go on.
I saw on this nature show how the male elk douses himself with urine to smell sweeter to the opposite sex. What a coincidence!
I scrambled to the top of the precipice where Nick was waiting. "That was fun," I said. "You bet it was," said Nick. "Let's climb higher." "No," I said. "I think we should be heading back now." "We have time," Nick insisted. I said we didn't, and Nick said we did. We argued back and forth like that for about 20 minutes, then finally decided to head back. I didn't say it was an interesting story.
I think a good gift for the president would be a chocolate revolver. And since he's so busy, you'd probably have to run up to him and hand it to him.
I think a good movie would be about a guy who's a brain scientist, but he gets hit on the head and it damages the part of the brain the makes you want to study the brain.
I think a good product would be "Baby Duck Hat". It's a fake baby duck, which you strap on top of your head. Then you go swimming underwater until you find a mommy duck and her babies, and you join them. Then, all of a sudden, you stand up out of the water and roar like Godzilla. Man, those ducks really take off! Also, Baby Duck Hat is good for parties.
I think a good way to get into a movie is to show up where they're making the movie, then stick a big cactus plant onto you buttocks and start yowling and running around. Everyone would think it was funny, and the head movie guy would say, "Hey, let's put him in the movie."
I think college administrators should encourage students to urinate on walls and bushes, because then when students from another college come sniffing around, they'll know this is someone else's territory.
I think in one of my previous lives I was a mighty king, because I like people to do what I say.
I think it's high time we started questioning the old cliches like "Grunt big for Daddy."
I think man invented the car by instinct.
I think my new thing will be to try to be a real happy guy. I'll just walk around being real happy until some jerk says something stupid to me.
I think one reason I could be a good playboy is I would be willing to spend the time required to really fix up my "pad".
I think people tend to forget that trees are living creatures. They're sort of like dogs. Huge, quiet, motionless dogs, with bark instead of fur.
I think somebody should come up with a way to breed a very large shrimp. That way, you could ride him, then after you camped at night, you could eat him. How about it, science?
I think someone should have had the decency to tell me the luncheon was free. To make someone run out with potato salad in his hand, pretending he's throwing up, is not what I call hospitality.
I think the monkeys at the zoo should have to wear sunglasses so they can't hypnotize you.
I think there should be something in science called the "reindeer effect." I don't know what it would be, but I think it'd be good to hear someone say, "Gentlemen, what we have here is a terrifying example of the reindeer effect."
I think they should continue the policy of not giving a Nobel Prize for paneling.
I wish a robot would get elected president. That way, when he came to town, we could all take a shot at him and not feel too bad.
I wish I had a kryptonite cross, because then you could keep both Dracula AND Superman away.
I wish I lived back in the old west days, because I'd save up my money for about twenty years so I could buy a solid-gold pick. Then I'd go out West and start digging for gold. When someone came up and asked what I was doing, I'd say, "Looking for gold, ya durn fool." He'd say, "Your pick is gold," and I'd say, "Well, that was easy." Good joke, huh.
I wish scientists would come up with a way to make dogs a lot bigger, but with a smaller head. That way, they'd still be good as watchdogs, but they wouldn't eat as much.
I wish scientists would come up with an ear of corn that was big and round, because then when you were eating it, it'd be fun to make chew marks in the shape of continents.
I wonder if angels believe in ghosts.
I wonder if Dracula ever has ticks.
I wouldn't be surprised if someday some fisherman caught a big shark and cut it open, and there inside was a whole person. Then they cut the person open, and in him is a little baby shark. And in the baby shark there isn't a person, because it would be too small. But there's a little doll or something, like a Johnny Combat little toy guy-- something like that.
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "probably because of something you did."
If Alien was my friend, I'd like to be with him when he went to the dentist. When they started drilling, he'd probably go nuts and start eating everybody. That Alien!
If God dwells inside us, like some people say, I sure hope He like enchiladas, because that's what He's getting!
If I ever do a book on the Amazon, I hope I am able to bring a certain lightheartedness to the subject, in a way that tell the reader we are going to have fun with this thing.
If I ever opened a trampoline store, I don't think I'd call it Trampo-Land, because you might think it was a store for tramps, which is not the impression we are trying to convey with our store. On the other hand, we would not prohibit tramps from browsing, or testing the trampolines, unless a tramp's gyrations seemed to be getting out of control.
If I had a mine shaft, I don't think I would just abandon it. There's got to be a better way.
If I had a nickname, I think I would want it to be "Prince of Weasels", because then I could go up and bite people and they would turn around and go, "What the-?" And then they would recognize me, and go, "Oh, it's you, the Prince of Weasels."
If I lived in the Wild West days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a soldering iron. That was if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like, "Hey look. He's carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everyone would get real quiet and ashamed, because they made fun of the soldering iron of justice, and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.
If the Vikings were around today, they would probably be amazed at how much glow-in-the-dark stuff we have, and how we take so much of it for granted.
If there was a terrible storm outside, but somehow this dog lived through the storm, and he showed up at your door when the storm was finally over, I think a good name for him would be Carl.
If they ever come up with a swashbuckling school, I think one of the courses should be Laughing, Then Jumping Off Something.
If they have moving sidewalks in the future, when you get on them, I think you should have to assume sort of a walking shape so as not to frighten the dogs.
If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.
If you're a circus clown, and you have a dog that you use in your act, I don't think it's a good idea to also dress the dog up like a clown, because people see that and they think, "Forgive me, but that's just too much."
If you're a horse, and someone gets on you, and falls off, and then gets right back on you, I think you should buck him off right away.
If you're ever shipwrecked on a tropical island and you don't know how to speak the natives' language, just say "Poppy-oomy." I bet it means something.
If you're a young Mafia gangster out on your first date, I bet it's real embarrassing if someone tries to kill you.
If you're ever stuck in some thick undergrowth, in your underwear, don't stop and think of what other words have 'under' in them, because that's probably the first sign of jungle madness.
If you're at a Thanksgiving dinner, but you don't like the stuffing or the cranberry sauce or anything else, just pretend like you're eating it, but instead, put it all in your lap and form it into a big mushy ball. Then, later, when you're out back having cigars with the boys, let out a big fake cough and throw the ball to the ground. Then say, "Boy, these are good cigars!"
If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave Man, I guess I am a coward.
If you drop your keys into molten lava just let 'em go 'cause, man, they're gone.
If you ever discover that what you're seeing is a play within a play, just slow down, take a deep breath, and hold on for the ride of your life.
If you ever fall off the Sears Tower, just go real limp, because maybe you'll look like a dummy and people will try to catch you because hey, free dummy.
If you ever go temporarily insane, don't shoot somebody, like a lot of people do. Instead, try to get some weeding done, because you'd really be surprised.
If you ever teach a yodeling class, probably the hardest thing is to keep the students from trying to yodel right off. You see, we build to that.
If you go parachuting, and your parachute doesn't open, and your friends are all watching you fall, I think a funny gag would be to pretend you were swimming.
If you go to a party, and you want to be the popular one at the party, do this: Wait until no one is looking, then kick a burning log out of the fireplace onto the carpet. Then jump on top of it with your body and yell, "Log o' fire! Log o' fire!" I've never done this, but I think it'd work.
If you had a school for professional fireworks people, I don't think you could cover fuses in just one class. It's just too rich a subject.
If you saw two guys named Hambone and Flipper, which one would you think liked dolphins the most? I'd say Flipper, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong, though. It's Hambone.
If you want to be the most popular person in your class, whenever the professor pauses in his lecture, just let out a big snort and say "How do you figger that!" real loud. Then lean back and sort of smirk.
If you were a poor Indian with no weapons, and a bunch of conquistadors came up to you and asked where the gold was, I don't think it would be a good idea to say, "I swallowed it. So sue me."
If you work on a lobster boat, sneaking up behind people and pinching them is probably a joke that gets old real fast.
In some places it's known as a tornado. In others, a cyclone. And in still others, the Idiot's Merry-go-round. But around here they'll always be known as screw-boys.
In weight lifting, I don't think sudden, uncontrolled urination should automatically disqualify you.
Instead of having 'answers' on a math test, they should just call them 'impressions' and it you got a different 'impression' so what, can't we all be brothers?
Instead of studying for finals, what about just going to the Bahamas and catching some rays? Maybe you'll flunk, but you might have flunked anyway; that's my point.
Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a very beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you're drunk.
It's amazing to me that one of the world's most feared diseases would be carried by one of the world's smallest animals: the real tiny dog.
It's fascinating to think that all around us there's an invisible world we can't even see. I'm speaking, of course, of the World of the Invisible Scary Skeletons.
It's not good to let any kid near a container that has a skull and crossbones on it, because there might be a skeleton costume inside and the kid could put it on and really scare you.
It's sad that a family can be torn apart by something as simple as a pack of wild dogs.
It makes me mad when I go to all the trouble of having Marta cook up about a hundred drumsticks, the guy at the Marineland says, "You can't throw chicken to the dolphins. They eat fish." Sure they eat fish, if that's all you give them. Man, wise up.
It makes me mad when people say I turned and ran like a scared rabbit. Maybe it was like an angry rabbit, who was running to go fight in another fight, away from the first fight.
It takes a big man to cry, but it takes an even bigger man to laugh at that man.
Just as irrigation is the lifeblood of the Southwest, lifeblood is the soup of cannibals.
Laugh, clown, laugh. This is what I tell myself whenever I dress up like Bozo.
Love can sweep you off your feet and carry you along in a way you've never known before. But the ride always ends, and you end up feeling lonely and bitter. Wait. It's not love I'm describing. I'm thinking of a monorail.
Marta likes to talk about sensuality, but I don't think she would know sensuality if it bit her on the ass.
Marta says the interesting thing about fly-fishing is that it's two lives connected by a thin strand. Come on, Marta. Grow up.
Marta was watching the football game with me when she said, "You know, most of these sports are based on the idea of one group protecting its territory from invasion by another group." "Yeah," I said, trying not to laugh. Girls are funny.
Life, to me, is like a quiet forest pool, one that needs a direct hit from a big rock half-buried in the ground. You pull and you pull, but you can't get the rock out of the ground. So you give it a good kick, but you lose your balance and go skidding down the hill toward the pool. Then out comes a big Hawaiian man who was screwing his wife beside the pool because they thought it was real pretty. He tells you to get out of there, but you start faking it, like you're talking Hawaiian, and then he gets mad and chases you...
Maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself: "Mankind." Basically, it's made up of two separate words - "mank" and "ind". What do these words mean? It's a mystery, and that's why so is mankind.
Most people don't realize that large pieces of coral, which have been painted brown and attached to the skull by common wood screws, can make a child look like a deer.
Of all the tall tales, I think my favorite is the one about Eli Whitney and the interchangeable parts.
Once when I was in Hawaii, on the island of Kauai, I met a mysterious old stranger. He said he was about to die and wanted to tell someone about the treasure. I said, "Okay, as long as it's not a long story. Some of us have a plane to catch, you know." He stared telling hes story, about the treasure and his life and all, and I thought: "This story isn't too long." But then, he kept going, and I started thinking, "Uh-oh, this story is getting long." But then the story was over, and I said to myself: "You know, that story wasn't too long after all." I forget what the story was about, but there was a good movie on the plane. It was a little long, though.
Many people think that history is a dull subject. Dull? Is it "dull" that Jesse James once got bitten on the forehead by an ant, and at first it didn't seem like anything, but then the bite got worse and worse, so he went to a doctor in town, and the secretary told him to wait, so he sat down and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and then finally he got to see the doctor, and the doctor put some salve on it? You call that dull?
One question that's never been answered to my satisfaction by the "Playboy Advisor" is "What kind of stereo system works best in hell?"
One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said, "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think deep down he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.
One thing that makes me believe in UFOs is, sometimes I lose stuff.
People think it would be fun to be a bird because you could fly. But they forget the negative side, which is the preening.
Perhaps, if I am very lucky, the feeble efforts of my lifetime will someday be noticed, and maybe, in some small way, they will be acknowledged as the greatest works of genius ever created by Man.
Probably the earliest flyswatters were nothing more than some sort of striking surface attached to the end of a long stick.
Probably to a shark about the funniest thing there is is a wounded seal, trying to swim to shore, because WHERE DOES HE THINK HE'S GOING?!
Some folks say it was a miracle. St. Francis suddenly appeared and knocked the next pitch clean over the fence. Other folks say it was just a lucky swing.
Sometimes, when I drive across the desert in the middle of the night, with no other cars around, I start imagining: What if there were no civilization out there? No cities, no factories, no people? And then I think: No people or factories? Then who made this car? And this highway? And I get so confused I have to stick my head out the window into the driving rain - unless there's lightning, because I could get struck on the head by a bolt.
Sometimes I think the world has gone completely mad. And then I think, "Aw, who cares?" And then I think, "Hey, what's for supper?"
Sometimes I wish Marta were more loyal to me. Like the other day. The car parked next to ours had a real dirty windshield; so I wrote THIS CAR LOOKS LIKE A FART in the dirt. Later I asked Marta if she thought it was a childish thing to do. She said, "Well, maybe," Man, whose side is she on, anyway?
Sometimes I wonder if I'm sexy enough. When I walk into a singles bar with my "fashionable" shirt, "fashionable" slacks, and a big new rubber manta-ray helmet, I can't help wondering: Do women want to talk to me for myself, or do they just want to get a feel of that nice rubber manta skin?
Sometimes life seems like a dream, especially when I look down and see that I forgot to put on my pants.
Sometimes the beauty of the world is so overwhelming, I just want to throw back my head and gargle. Just gargle and gargle, and I don't care who hears me, because I am beautiful.
Sometimes when I feel like killing someone, I do a little trick to calm myself down. I'll go over to the person's house and ring the doorbell. When the person comes to the door, I'm gone, but you know what I've left on the porch? A jack-o-lantern with a knife stuck in the side of its head with a note that says "You." After that, I usually feel a lot better, and no harm done.
The difference between a man and a boy is, a boy wants to grow up to be a fireman, but a man wants to grow up to be a giant monster fireman.
The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.
The land that had nourished him and had borne him fruit now turned against him and called him a fruit. Man, I hate land like that.
The memories of my family outings are still a source of strength to me. I remember we'd all pile into the car - I forget what kind it was - and drive and drive. I'm not sure where we'd go, but I think there were some trees there. The smell of something was strong in the air as we played whatever sport we played. I remember a bigger, older guy we called "Dad." We'd eat some stuff, or not, and then I think we went home. I guess some things never leave you.
The next time I have meat and mashed potatoes, I think I'll put a very large blob of potatoes on my plate with just a little piece of meat. And if someone asks me why I didn't get more meat, I'll just say, "Oh, you mean this?" and pull out a big piece of meat from inside the blob of potatoes, where I've hidden it. Good magic trick, huh?
The old pool shooter has won many a game in his life. But now it was time to hang up the cue. When he did all the other cues came crashing to the floor. "Sorry," he said with a smile.
The people in the village were real poor, so none of the children had any toys. But this one little boy had gotten an old enema bag and filled it with rocks, and he would go around and whap the other children across the face with it. Man, I think my heart almost broke. Later the boy came up and offered to give me the toy. This was too much! I reached out my hand, but then he ran away. I chased him down and took the enema bag. He cried a little, but that's the way of these people.
The prince decided he would learn anger. So he gathered his subjects together outside his balcony. "Who would teach me anger?" he said. "Fuck you!" somebody yelled. "Okay, how about algebra?" said the prince.
The sound of fresh rain run-off splashing from the roof reminded me of the sound of urine splashing into a filthy Texaco latrine.
The whole town laughed at my great-grandfather, just because he worked hard and saved his money. True, working at the hardware store didn't pay much, but he felt it was better than what everybody else did, which was go up to the volcano and collect the gold nuggets it shot out every day. It turned out he was right. After forty years, the volcano petered out. Everybody left town, and the hardware store went broke. Finally he decided to collect gold nuggets too, but there weren't many left by then. Plus, he broke his leg and the doctor's bills were real high.
They say that one in 5 people in the world are Chinese. There are five people in my family. So one of them must be Chinese, which one is it? It could be my mother, or my father. Or is it my brother Brian? Or my youngest brother Ho-Chen-Ching? I think it's probably my brother Brian.
To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.
To me, clowns aren't funny. In fact, they're kind of scary. I've wondered where this started, and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus, and a clown killed my dad.
To me, it's always a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, "Hey, can you give me a hand?," you can say, "Sorry, got these sacks."
To me, truth is not some vague, foggy notion. Truth is real. And, at the same time, unreal. Fiction and fact and everything in between, plus some things I can't remember, all rolled into one big 'thing'. This is truth, to me.
Today I accidentally stepped on a snail on the sidewalk in front of our house. And I thought, I too am like that snail. I build a defensive wall around myself, a 'shell' if you will. But my shell isn't made out of a hard protective substance. Mine is made out of tinfoil and paper bags.
Tonight, when we were eating dinner, Marta said something that really knocked me for a loop. She said, "I love carrots." "Good," I said as I gritted my teeth real hard. "Then maybe you and carrots would like to go into the bedroom and have sex!" They didn't, but maybe they will sometime, and I can watch.
Too bad Lassie didn't know how to ice skate, because then if she was in Holland on vacation in winter and someone said "Lassie, go skate for help," she could.
Too bad there's not such a thing as a golden skunk, because you'd probably be proud to be sprayed by one.
Too bad when I was a kid there wasn't a guy in our class that everybody called the "Cricket Boy", because I would have liked to stand up in class and tell everybody, "You can make fun of the Cricket Boy if you want to, but to me he's just like everybody else." Then everybody would leave the Cricket Boy alone, and I'd invite him over to spend the night at my house, but after about five minutes of that loud chirping I'd have to kick him out. Maybe later we could get up a petition to get the Cricket Family run out of town. Bye, Cricket Boy.
Too bad you can't buy a voodoo globe so that you could make the earth spin real fast and freak everybody out.
Too bad you can't just grab a tree by the very tiptop and bend it clear over the ground and then let her fly, because I bet you'd be amazed at all the stuff that comes flying out.
We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients. But we can't scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me.
We used to laugh at Grandpa when he'd head off and go fishing. But we wouldn't be laughing that evening when he'd come back with a whore he picked up in town.
What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we'll never know.
When I heard that trees grow a new 'ring' for each year they live, I thought, we humans are kind of like that: we grow a new layer of skin each year, and after many years we are thick and unwieldy from all our skin layers.
When I think back on all the blessings I have been given in my life, I can't think of a single one, unless you count that rattlesnake that granted me all those wishes.
When I was a kid, my favorite relative was Uncle Caveman. After school we'd all go play in his cave, and every once in awhile he would eat one of us. It wasn't until later that I found out that Uncle Caveman was a bear.
When the age of the Vikings came to a close, they must have sensed it. Probably, the gathered together one evening, slapped each other on the back and said, "Hey, good job."
When the chairman introduced the guest speaker as a former illegal alien, I got up from my chair and yelled, "What's the matter, no jobs on Mars?" When no one laughed, I was real embarrassed. I don't think people should make you feel that way.
When this girl at the art museum asked me whom I liked better, Monet or Manet, I said, "I like mayonnaise." She just stared at me, so I said it again, louder. Then she left. I guess she went to try to find some mayonnaise for me.
When you're going up the stairs and you take a step, kick the other leg up high behind you to keep people from following too close.
When you're riding in a time machine way far into the future, don't stick your elbow out the window, or it'll turn into a fossil.
When you go in for a job interview, I think a good thing to ask is if they ever press charges.
Whenever I hear the sparrow chirping, watch the woodpecker chirp, catch a chirping trout, or listen to the sad howl of the chirp rat, I think: Oh boy! I'm going insane again.
Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny.
Whether they ever find life there or not, I think Jupiter should be considered an enemy planet.
Why do people in ship mutinies always ask for "better treatment"? I'd ask for a pinball machine, because with all that rocking back and forth you'd probably be able to get a lot of free games.
Why do there have to be rules for everything? It's gotten to the point that rules dominate just about every aspect of our lives. In fact, it might be said that rules have become the foot-long sticks of mankind.
You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who makes people happy, but inside he's real sad. Also, he has severe diarrhea.
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