and in conclusion pt. 3

(originally posted 6/4/2017)

“Where is it written that a man can’t smell musty?” After a moment he was handed an ancient and, ironically enough, musty tome.

I have a feeling that we’re going to be disappointed when we finally figure out what whales are saying. I’m guessing that all the fish in the ocean are sick of them running their mouths. That’s why giant squid attack them from time to time. One too many Jew jokes.

The nice thing about writing under a nom de plume is that while people know me as funny, they don’t know I’m “professionally” funny. I feel like Clark Kent.

The thief told me to give him to give him my wallet if I knew what was good for me. I told him, through my cigarette-adorned lips, that because one hand held a Big Mac and the other a double espresso macchiato, I wouldn’t comply because obviously I didn’t know what was good for me.

Sexy is easy. Just say something interesting. A girl at a bar once told me that she only dreamt during thunderstorms and I remember her to this day.

Just because you have servants doesn’t mean that breakfast is easy. All I want is oatmeal with raisins and walnuts. How hard is that? But every morning I’m furiously thumbing through my Guatemalan-to English phrasebook trying to get the help to understand I don’t want Maple-flavored or Cinnamon-flavored or JUST raisins or JUST walnuts, I want fucking raisins and walnuts, and every morning I’m forced to hurl the bowl of oatmeal at her empty head. If this woman shows up tomorrow with a bowl of anything but oatmeal with raisins and walnuts, she’s going to end up in a hole next to the gardener who kept over-watering my ficus.

I threw a box of Viagra into the fireplace and the chimney got bigger.

Anyone familiar with finding romance online has probably run into a scenario where the person they thought they were talking to ended up being a catfish. For those of you would decide to move ahead with the relationship anyway, let me warn you about the barbs embedded behind their fins. They can be quite painful.

I’m incapable of imitating the sounds of a blow job without moving my right hand up and down vigorously in front of my mouth.

LinkedIn has an amazing algorithm that acts much like frat guys in “Animal House” that constantly herded the nerds away from all the other cool pledges and sat them down with the other rejects. I don’t mean any offense to the people I’ve connected with but let’s be honest; the vast majority of you are nobodies like myself. Try as I might, I can’t connect with any influential people in my industry. Every time I try, I get pushed back into people like myself. This is high school all over again.

People assume that famous people are more interesting. They are not. The terrible truth is that everybody and nobody is interesting.

If there was a hit TV show starring a hamster, most people would get all giddy about being in the same room with it. Over a fucking hamster.

It’s so cold out that you don’t simply get back into bed, you retreat under the covers. Which explains the bugle on my nightstand.

When people are talking in their sleep, it might just be aliens practicing controlling them.

There are just some people you meet who you imagine their asses have a lot of pimples and nothing will change your opinion.

Every time I watch a UFC fight, I keep expecting an adult to climb over the cage and break it up.

I’ve always been a sucker for those scenes in movies where the character is presented with some bad news or intense situation where he does some crazy thing in response, either violent or brave, only to find out a few moments later that it was only in his head and in reality he did something much more meek or expected. I have that happen so often now I sometimes get lost as to where I’m actually at. Sometimes I’m back in childhood and sometimes I’m years in the future, or so I think. I’m moving like a ping pong ball back and forth between what is and what I’m thinking. My consciousness is like a badly edited foreign film, with low production and poor acting.

Having finished a story that began “I have a dream,” I realized that many people will immediately think of the famous MLK speech and my story is only slightly more memorable so I decided to delete it.

Little known fact: After a dip in icy waters, members of the Polar Bear Club will often times kill and eat a seal.

You’re never sure when it happened but one day you look at your dress shirts and you see a shiny colored one. Then for some reason you’re wearing it and then you’re dancing.

It’s a rare and wonderful moment when someone sincerely asks for your advice and you know deep down in your heart how bad badly you’re going to blow it.

When someone is practicing the shotput, do they use a bucket of shotputs? And who’s the big fucker who brings that out to the field?

If there is an afterlife, I wonder if you can still whack it.

Critics always say my books are disjointed. I would counter that most writing today is too jointed.

Manion’s Marital Aids: A long plastic device that automatically offers up a chipper “Good morning Honey!” to start each day so your spouse wakes up believing you care. Oh… and it’s also a vibrator.

Show me a salad bar and I’ll show you an old man going the wrong direction like a spawning salmon. Places like Ruby Tuesday’s should have a salad bar bear.

She never liked morning sex. She said her vagina always had a “left out all night” feel to it.

My grandma always used to say “If it walks like a duck and quacks like duck, it’s a duck.” The problem was that she couldn’t tell the difference between a duck and a goose. So in a way, she unintentionally taught me a great life lesson.

I don’t really have a problem with feminism but when I saw her buying the Just For Men, it was the last straw.

Are initials and hearts carved into them the tree equivalent of ink? Does it make them the most bad-ass tree in the forest?

For reasons I can’t explain, whenever someone asks me to “step right this way,” I make an exaggerated step forward with my right foot.

Tips for the fashionable outdoorsman: After you’ve shaved off your bush, the freckles are most likely ticks.

If Bruce Jenner can be a woman, then Rachel Dolezal can be black. You can’t have it one way and not the other. I would know… I’m a giraffe.

People who ask me why I don’t wash my hands after going to the bathroom clearly don’t appreciate how clean I keep my genitalia. In fact, after peeing, I should wash my dick.

Whenever I’m out for a walk, I always see the same scenario: an in-shape girl walking with her chunky boyfriend. He thinks it’s just a nice romantic stroll and is completely unaware that she is trying to walk off his extra weight. He doesn’t suspect a thing as she keeps up a brisk pace. She keeps sneaking a look over at his jiggly stomach to see if it’s gotten any better. She just won’t accept that he is flabby and that they will run out of country before he loses any weight walking. They could start in Nebraska and walk until they are neck-deep in the ocean and he’s still going to be fat. Poor man. Poor woman.

Most of the humor in Marmaduke comes from his enormous size. Same with my penis.

A Netflix spokesperson has issued a statement defending the comedic content of the Adam Sandler film Ridiculous 6 after approximately a dozen Native American actors reportedly walked off the set on Wednesday, saying they were “offended” by the flick’s stereotypical subject matter. While actor Loren Anthony said that he understands the film is meant to be satirical, he believes some of the jokes were taken too far. “We were supposed to be Apache, but it was really stereotypical and we did not look Apache at all. We looked more like Comanche,” he said. To get them to come back, it took three jugs of whiskey, two blankets and some shiny beads.

I wonder if men headed to prison ever consider stretching out their assholes a bit.

Whenever I’m drinking something as I pee, I somehow expect my urine stream to get stronger.

One thought leads to another… thinking about how much my erect penis reminds me of a gavel leads me to think about how hard it would be for a judge to bring a court to order with one that had the properties of my flaccid dick.

People hear that Lamar Odem was found unresponsive after a three day binge of cocaine and prostitutes and they feel sympathy? If they want to feel sympathy they should check out what they did the last three days.