No comment.
I recently received a free sample of shaving cream for ladyparts (no, not at an orgy–it was a dinner party that naturally developed into a classy group sex thing, but definitely not an orgy):
"Rash free" = unintentional double entendre
This is its list of four selling points. Note the fourth:
i.e. "Other ladypart shave creams are tested on animal ladyparts, e.g. rabbits, gerbils and marmots." (You thought I was going to say pussy cats, didn't you? Grow up.)
When someone applies for a handicapped license plate, do they have to apply for a new driver’s license? Because if their newfound handicap is no-right-leg, they’re going to have problems. Especially if they drive a stick shift.
SOMEONE ELSE: What would you do if you knew the exact moment you’ll die?
ME: The same thing I’d have to do every day in that situation: sit in my cell on death row sketching outdoor landscapes and wishing I hadn’t killed all those people.
Death Row
BOSS: Says here you’re… homophobic?
PROSPECTIVE EMPLOYEE: Oh my gosh, did I put that? That’s not right, I’m so sorry. I’m not scared of them per se, I just hate them. All. A lot.
BOSS: Do you know what we do here at the ACLU?
I saw a blind guy who had someone nice enough to escort him arm-in-arm down the sidewalk, but he was still using the cane. What a slap to the face of his escort.
"I'm not going to lead you into a pole, Blind Willie."
DAD: Son, I see the tooth fairy came again last night.
SON [WEARING A LEOPARD SKIN FUR COAT AND BOASTING A FULL SET OF TEETH]: Aw, yeah.
MOM: That’s the 79th time he’s visited you.
SON: I dig.
DAD: Humans only have 32 teeth.
SON: Word?
MOM: Your grandfather’s dentures are missing and Tiny Tim claims you punched him in the face to harvest his teeth.
SON: The tooth fairy didn’t stipulate whose teeth they needed to be.
DAD: Son, you’re 23. Isn’t it time you get a job?
Int. Roofing Company
SALESMAN: Our roofs are built to last forever. Through any hurricane.
[THE OFFICE'S ROOF FLIES OFF.]
SALESMAN (CONT’D): We didn’t build this roof. We just work here.
CUSTOMER: It’s not even windy.
OTHER MOM: I see you walking your baby every day, and I’m so jealous by how much she sleeps. What’s your secret?
MOM: Have you ever seen Weekend at Bernie’s?
Real life parallels aplenty.
DOC: Your baby’s stillborn!
MOM: Nooooooo!!!
DOC: It has a broken neck. Were you doing crunchies during your third trimester?
MOM: I have killer abs.
DOC: Literally!
Abs-o-not-ly!
Before the advent of modern medicine, no matter how innocuous the sniffles seemed everyone had to put their affairs in order because the slightest sickness could kill you.
March 27, 1817
MOM: Ah-choo!
DAD: Oh no, honey! To bed with you!
MOM: I’m not ready to die.
DAD: Martha Sue, come see your mom.
MOM: Martie, mommy may be going away for a long time to… a better place.
MARTHA SUE: Are you going to circus?
[MOM WEEPS UNCONTROLLABLY]
Next Day
MOM: I feel… fine.
DAD: It was just a cold!
MOM: How funny! We thought—
MOM & DAD: Hahahahahahahahahaha!
MARTHA SUE: Are you laughing about circus?
