I’ve lost so much hair that my part has tributaries.
If I were to choose a vocation based on my heritage, Irish, German, Armenian, I would weave rugs on a state-of-the-art loom I designed while drunk. What would your job be?
A California man in a state of distress took his child and fled the county. They were found the next day, and the man was charged with child endangerment. In other states that’s called divorce.
Here I am with Clive–my first customer on Lanai. He was personal butler to David Murdock ([no relation] former owner of Lanai) for one year. Now he works for Rabaca’s Limousine Service. Ask him for a ride!
My health insurance company doesn’t take doctors.
From now on the National Anthem will not precede NFL games. Instead the song will be Eminem’s “The Real Slim Shady” aka Please Stand Up.
Since cupid failed at finding me the right guy, I took matters into my own hands. Photo credit: Bailey Clark, Central Coast Archery.
I played a practical joke on a restaurant when I ordered take-out. After I provided their address as my location, the worker said, “That’s our address.” I said, “I know. I’m in your parking lot.” The delivery guy played along and drove his car one aisle over to my car.
My next target market is going to be adults who are developmentally disabled. I like that they find me so interesting.
The cemetery in Paso Robles is offering headstones made out of old wine barrels.
The back of a candy package states: “Background orange is a registered trademark.” Fascinating. I’m going to register my off-color humor.
A cat hired me to write its whole life story. The book will be called Nine Lives Matter. The cat dies in the end. Oops. I gave it away.
Love thy neighbor . . . if he’s the same religion.
Obesity is so common in children that parents no longer say, “This is Jimmy. He’s shy.” They say, “This is Jimmy. He’s a B cup.”
A deli has a new sandwich called the Miami Cuban. Soon they’ll offer the New York Jew, California Liberal, German Brat—a club sandwich.
I had a mammogram today. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the diagnostic center was running a special: smaller than an A cup—free! The technician found a lump. It was my breast.
California Assembly Bill No. 216 passed, which means that absentee ballots will now come with an envelope with prepaid postage. I guess legislators follow my comedy career. I talked about that during this performance.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e1b40E7PoAs&list=FLqDnWaF00Cpyngks6a41BoA&index=15
I’m writing a healthy cookbook of dessert recipes using unsweetened sugar.
My idea of a polar bear plunge is a big white guy diving into my bed.
Each door knocking outing, I encounter the whole spectrum of congeniality. At one end of the spectrum, a man pretended to be on the phone (lying is for cowards) while his wife yelled at me (there’s a perfect match); at the other end of the spectrum, a little girl gave me a flower.
The United States’ national mascot is the border patrol agent.
I walk into a restaurant to order take-out. A waitress walks up to me at the cash register.
“That’ll be $22,” she announced.
“What will be?” I asked.
“I haven’t ordered, yet.”
“Oh, you’re not Sheila?”
“Oh, OK. Can I get a number?”
“No, I mean a phone number.”
“No, I mean your phone number.”
“So I can call you when your order’s done.”
“I’ll be standing right here.” . . . and so continues the art of inefficiency.
Paso Robles should plant coca and experiment with cocaine production. Locals and tourists could go farm to farm cocaine sampling. Customers could pair cocaine with different types of razor blades and mirrors. Why not? Cocaine is safer than alcohol. In the meantime, I will go to Georgia for peanut butter sampling. I’m going to bring a sterling silver knife to spread peanut butter on artisan crackers. I will pair peanut butter with chocolate, pretzels, and bread, and brag about what flavors I sense in the peanut butter. I will attend competitions and marvel at hand-painted peanut butter jar labels.
Breastfeeding women should be out of sight and locked in a dungeon.
If it’s acceptable for me to tell self-deprecating jokes, then it should be OK for me to tell self-righteous jokes, but there isn’t anything funny about being perfect.
If watching reality TV can kill brain cells, then maybe it can kill cancer cells.
There should be more genders than there are letters in the alphabet. In fact, there should be a gender for each person. I’ll start. I’m good at sports and I date men only. I’m transathletic. What are you and why?
I was about to steal items from a store and saw this sign at the back door. It changed my mind. Phew. Good thing the sign was there.
As I was opening a Christmas present a client gave me, she said, “It’s something you really really need. You’ll use it a lot—every day. I shouted, “Why does everybody think I need a vibrator?!” It turned out to be a thesaurus.