deepthoughts2

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.

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.

Sometimes when I feel like killing someone, I do a little trick to calm
myself down. I'll go over to the persons 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 it's
head with a note that says "You." After that I usually feel a lot
better, and no harm done.

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 ever teach a yodeling class, probably the hardest thing is to keep
the students from just trying to yodel right off. You see, we build to
that.

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.

I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high notes, I bet
you can really see it in those genitals.

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?

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."

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.

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."

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.

As we were driving, we saw a sign that said "Watch for Rocks." Martha 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 though I was
lazy!

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 that 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.

Laurie got offended because I used the word "puke." But to me, that's what
her dinner tasted like.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 a while he would eat one of
us. It wasn't until later that I found out that Uncle Caveman was a bear.