Deep Thoughts

Deep Thoughts II
At first I thought, if I were Superman, a perfect secret identity would be "Clark Kent, Dentist,
" because you could save money on tooth X-rays. But then I thought, if a patient said, "How's my
back tooth?" and you just looked at it with your X-ray vision and said, "Oh it's okay," then the
patient would probably say, "Aren't you going to take an X-ray, stupid?" and you'd say, "Aw get
outta here," and then he probably wouldn't even pay his bill.

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.

If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a
soldering iron. That way, if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like "Hey, look. He's
carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could
just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everybody
would get real quiet and ashamed, because they had made fun of the soldering iron of justice,
and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.

I bet when the Neanderthal kids would make a snowman, someone would always end up saying, "Don't
forget the thick, heavy brows." Then they would all get embarrassed because they remembered they
had the big hunky brows too, and they'd get mad and eat the snowman.

Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let's say you're an astronaut on the moon
and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the
moon pieces, wham!, you just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the
radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Think again, bat man."

The people in the village were real poor, so none of the children had any toys. But this one
little boy had gotten an old enema bag and filled it with rocks, and he would go around and
whap the other children across the face with it. Man, I think my heart almost broke. Later the
boy came up and offered to give me the toy. This was too much! I reached out my hand, but then
he ran away. I chased him down and took the enema bag. He cried a little, but that's the way of
these people.

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.

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.

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

I don't guess I've ever been as scared as when I was waiting in the principal's office. Finally
he came in and sat down. He didn't say anything, he just looked at me. Then he pulled a copy of
Playboy out. "Is this yours?" he said.

"No," I said, "is this yours?" And I pulled out my penis. I guess I wasn't as scared as I
thought.

Many people think that history is a dull subject. Dull? Is it "dull" that Jesse James once got
bitten on the forehead by an ant, and at first it didn't seem like anything, but then the bite
got worse and worse, so he went to a doctor in town, and the secretary told him to wait, so he
sat down and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and then finally he got to see the
doctor, and the doctor put some salve on it? You call that dull?

I guess I kinda lost control, because in the middle of the play I ran up and lit the evil puppet
villain on fire. No, I didn't. Just kidding. I just said that to help illustrate one of the
human emotions, which is freaking out. Another emotion is greed, as when you kill someone for
money, or something like that. Another emotion is generosity, as when you pay someone double
what he paid for his stupid puppet.

Tonight, when we were eating dinner, Marta said something that really knocked me for a loop. She
said, "I love carrots." "Good," I said as I gritted my teeth real hard. "Then maybe you and
carrots would like to go into the bedroom and have sex!" They didn't, but maybe they will
sometime, and I can watch.

I can still recall old Mr. Barnslow getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of
tadpoles to that old board of his. Then he'd spin it round and round, like a wheel of fortune,
and no matter where it stopped he'd yell out,"Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!" We all thought
he was crazy. But then, we had some growing up to do

A funny thing to do is, if you're out hiking and your friend gets bitten by a poisonous snake,
tell him you're going to go for help, then go about ten feet and pretend that *you* got bit by
a snake. Then start an argument with him about who's going to go get help. A lot of guys will
start crying. That's why it makes you feel good when you tell them it was just a joke

Folks still remember the day ole Bob Riley came bouncing down that dirt road in his pickup.
Pretty soon, it was bouncing higher and higher. The tires popped, and the shocks broke, but
that truck kept bouncing. Some say it bounced clean over the moon, but whoever says that is a
goddamn liar.

I wish I lived back in the old west days, because I'd save up my money for about twenty years
so I could buy a solid-gold pick. Then I'd go out West and start digging for gold. When someone
came up and asked what I was doing, I'd say, "Looking for gold, ya durn fool." He'd say, "Your
pick is gold," and I'd say, "Well, that was easy." Good joke, huh.

I think a good product would be "Baby Duck Hat". It's a fake baby duck, which you strap on top
of your head. Then you go swimming underwater until you find a mommy duck and her babies, and
you join them. Then, all of a sudden, you stand up out of the water and roar like Godzilla.
Man, those ducks really take off! Also, Baby Duck Hat is good for parties

If you go to a party, and you want to be the popular one at the party, do this: Wait until no
one is looking, then kick a burning log out of the fireplace onto the carpet. Then jump on top
of it with your body and yell,"Log o' fire! Log o' fire!" I've never done this, but I think it'd
work.

I'll be the first to admit that my idea of God is pretty different. I believe in a God with a
long white beard, a gold crown, and a long robe with lots of shiny jewels on it. He sits on a
big throne in the clouds, and He's about five hundred feet tall. He talks in a real deep voice
like "I...AM...GOD!" He can blow up stuff just by looking at it. This is my own, personal idea
of God

Too bad when I was a kid there wasn't a guy in our class that everybody called the "Cricket
Boy", because I would have liked to stand up in class and tell everybody, "You can make fun
of the Cricket Boy if you want to, but to me he's just like everybody else." Then everybody
would leave the Cricket Boy alone, and I'd invite him over to spend the night at my house,
but after about five minutes of that loud chirping I'd have to kick him out. Maybe later we
could get up a petition to get the Cricket Family run out of town. Bye, Cricket Boy.

The whole town laughed at my great-grandfather, just because he worked hard and saved his
money. True, working at the hardware store didn't pay much, but he felt it was better than
what everybody else did, which was go up to the volcano and collect the gold nuggets it shot
out every day. It turned out he was right. After forty years, the volcano petered out.
Everybody left town, and the hardware store went broke. Finally he decided to collect gold
nuggets too, but there weren't many left by then. Plus, he broke his leg and the doctor's
bills were real high