Den of Iniquity

Nuggets

Every living person has the power to get everything they want in life. Here's my easy, guaranteed one-step formula:

Just stop wanting the things you can't have.

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A friend of mine brought his pretty young niece to the VFW hall with him last night. She said she’d like to go out with me sometime. I asked why she would want to go out with a geezer like me. She said she thought it might further her career. I asked what she does. She’s an anthropologist.

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I've invented a great way to dispense with the trauma of Daylight Savings Time adjustments.

We invent flexible clocks. They are programmed to create days of 23 hours, 59 minutes, which will be the norm for 2 months out of the year (in the fall). They will also be programmed to create days of 24 hours, 1 minute, which will be the norm for another 2 months of the year (in the spring). The other 8 months will consist of the normal 24 hours. That way DST will gradually fade in and out, and we will never feel the difference.

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The National Park Service (part of the US Dept of Interior) cautions people to not feed the animals. They reason that animals would learn to depend on handouts and lose their ability to fend for themselves.

Meanwhile, the Food Stamp program (part of the US Dept of Agriculture) provides food for 46 million people, and perpetually proves that the NPS is right.

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Just on the outside chance there may be someone out there who hasn't heard this one yet:

Doctor: Just take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between your breasts.

Patient: And that's going to make my boobs get bigger?

Doctor: It worked on your ass, didn't it?

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An old guy goes in for a job interview:

Interviewer: What is your greatest weakness?

Old guy: Honesty.

Interviewer: I don't think of that as a weakness.

Old Guy: I really don't give a shit what you think.

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We have (at least) three names for this little symbol: #

It may be used as a pound sign,

a number symbol,

or as a hashtag (especially on Twitter).

Yet we can't come up with a single gender-non-specific alternative to "he" or "she",

which would be infinitely more useful.

* * * * *

Lord, give me beer to enjoy changing the things I can change, and beer to console me for the things I can't change, and beer to help me not care about the difference.

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Every day thousands of innocent plants are killed by vegetarians.

Help stop the violence. Eat meat.

-- Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Plants

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If you say "Hi, honies, I'm home" at the end of the workday, . . .

. . . you might be a mormon.

If you have ever started a sentence with "Some of my best wives are . . . " . . .

. . . you might be a mormon.

If your age is less than the size of your family, . . .

. . . you might be a mormon.

* * * * *

When you cry, few people notice your tears.

When you’re worried or depressed, few people feel your pain.

When you’re happy, few people see your smile.

But when you fart just one time . . .

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When California became a state (more than 160 years ago), they had no money, almost everyone spoke Spanish, and there were daily gunfights in the streets. So, not much has changed.

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Many people now define success by what you have, especially money, not by how you got it, who you are, or what you do. Cash has replaced character as the measure of a man (or woman). Now it's style, not substance. It's glamor, not grit. It's fashion, not fortitude. We have become a nation of shallow, superficial, lazy, greedy, impatient, ignorant, arrogant, entitled narcissists.

We are, in many ways, what France had become in the 18th century. And we could end up much the same way they did during that century.

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Having studied ancient history, it seems there were three burning questions on the mind of early man:

(1) What is the meaning of life?

(2) Am I man enough to beat that guy up and take his wife?

(3) Why? Why, I ask you. Please, God, tell me . . . why didn't I save a bunch of money on my chariot insurance by switching to GEICO?

* * * * *

What do you call a doctor who treats pathological liars?

A crocktologist.

What do you call a doctor who treats pathological liars in Washington, DC?

Busy.

* * * * *

Since we Americans love pithy, descriptive phrases like "boots on the ground" for combat troops in a war zone, let's start referring to politicians in Washington, DC as "heads up their asses".

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Stupid people don't know they're stupid, just as drunk people don't know they're drunk. Friends don't let friends vote stupid.

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Optimists tell us that nothing is impossible.

Alrighty then. Let's see them slam a revolving door. Let's see them shave an egg. Let's see them stab someone with a rubber band.