Apple juice looks so much like urine that the only way to tell them apart is to remember that I keep my pee in the fridge, and the apple juice in the toilet. Help yourself to something to drink. Just flush if you want a refill.

My amazing feat features shoes (and feet)—it’s how far I’d walk for love. Guess how far? However far it is from the point I ran out of gas to wherever she is, assuming she’s hanging out at a gas station.

The love doctor, Orafoura, says there are two things that a guy can do to promote a healthy relationship: One, grow out a handlebar mustache, and two, grow a mullet. I don’t know, will radiating lust make me a better lover?

I don’t like ice in my whiskey. I like bullets. Why? Because for every ice cube I don’t use, an Eskimo gets to keep one square inch of his igloo. So I’m saving twice the lives by using bullets and not using ice.

I just invented a new light that shuts off automatically when an ugly person walks in the room. Guaranteed to help them get laid. Darkness is the great equalizer. Blind and Deaf Magazine called my product, “Helen Kelleresque.

Chew on this fact: nine out of ten people step on bubblegum left by either me or my associates. The tenth person couldn’t step on it because he’s handicapped. But he most assuredly rolled over it in his wheelchair.


Three men walk into a bar. The third guy’s name is 333. The first guy’s name is The Second Guy, and the second guy’s name is I’m Not Lying. One of these men is not like the other two. Which one is why and who?

If you party, then I Ben. I’ve been Benning since the beginning. If this doesn’t make sense to you, then you are not alone. And thank God, because is there any worse feeling than being alone? Well, besides being confused.

I’m not a hillbilly—I’m a hillwilliam. Or, rather, a William Hill. That was my name at the last networking conference, when I stole a nametag to make friends without fear of insulting them with lasting consequences.

This morning, as I was driving to work, I mistook a big brown box on the side of the road for a deer. It was dark, and I swerved at the last second, and even though it wasn’t a deer, I still managed to nail that son of a bitch.

Being born with a sickly resemblance to Henry Fonda was the first of a long series of practical jokes of which destiny was to make Major Major the unhappy victim throughout his joyless life. Being born Major Major Major was the second

Don’t breathe on my voice, I yelled through my ears. But who’s there to listen, when you’re all alone and wearing earplugs. It’s true what they say, even if they say it silently—love is Helen Kelleresque.

I didn’t shave my mustache off. Instead what I did was taped Elton John’s asshole to my top lip and then all of the sudden I had twice the dick in my mouth as before. It was almost more than I could swallow. Almost. 


Human sperm is liquefied dandelion florets, and an estimated one out of every thousand children are born as flowers. This is an indisputable fact, just as being love can elongate the genitals to cucumber-like proportions. Salad anyone?

I’ve wrestled an alligator before. It wasn’t alive, but I still pinned it down. I was trying to impress a woman, and I bet I did, because she went home with another man—but she was smiling, probably wishing he were me.