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DEEP THOUGHTS

If they ever come up with a swashbuckling School, I think one of the courses should be Laughing, Then Jumping Off Something.
When you're riding in a time machine way far into the future, don't stick your elbow out the window, or it'll turn into a fossil.
It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.
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 fuck you, 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.
A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. "Hear that?" you say. "That's dynamite, baby."
Why do people in ship mutinies always ask for "better treatment"? I'd ask for a pinball machine, because with all that rocking back and forth you'd probably be able to get a lot of free games.
I'd like to be buried Indian-style, where they put you up on a high rack, above the ground. That way, you could get hit by meteorites and not even feel it.
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."
Too bad you can't buy a voodoo globe so that you could make the earth spin real fast and freak everybody out.
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.
I wish I had a Kryptonite cross, because then you could keep both Dracula AND Superman away.
I don't think I'm alone when I say I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system.
Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis.
Maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself: "Mankind". Basically, it's made up of two separate words - "mank" and "ind". What do these words mean ? It's a mystery, and that's why so is mankind.
I hope if dogs ever take over the world, and they chose a king, they don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.
I guess we were all guilty, in a way. We all shot him, we all skinned him, and we all got a complimentary bumper sticker that said, "I helped skin Bob."
I bet the main reason the police keep people away from a plane crash is they don't want anybody walking in and lying down in the crash stuff, then, when somebody comes up, act like they just woke up and go, "What was THAT?!"
The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.
Ambition is like a frog sitting on a Venus Flytrap. The flytrap can bite and bite, but it won't bother the frog because it only has little tiny plant teeth. But some other stuff could happen and it could be like ambition.
I'd rather be rich than stupid.
If you were a poor Indian with no weapons, and a bunch of conquistadors came up to you and asked where the gold was, I don't think it would be a good idea to say, "I swallowed it. So sue me."
If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave man, I guess I'm a coward.
I bet one legend that keeps recurring throughout history, in every culture, is the story of Popeye.
When you go in for a job interview, I think a good thing to ask is if they ever press charges.
To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.
What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we'll never know.
We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients. But we can't scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me.
Probably the earliest flyswatters were nothing more than some sort of striking surface attached to the end of a long stick.
I think someone should have had the decency to tell me the luncheon was free. To make someone run out with potato salad in his hand, pretending he's throwing up, is not what I call hospitality.
To me, clowns aren't funny. In fact, they're kind of scary. I've wondered where this started and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus, and a clown killed my dad.
As I bit into the nectarine, it had a crisp juiciness about it that was very pleasurable - until I realized it wasn't a nectarine at all, but A HUMAN HEAD!!
Most people don't realize that large pieces of coral, which have been painted brown and attached to the skull by common wood screws, can make a child look like a deer.
If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.
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 make 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 someones 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." 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!
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 you saw two guys named Hambone and Flippy, which one would you think liked dolphins the most? I'd say Flippy, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong, though. It's Hambone.
Laurie got offended that 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 some 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.
If you're a young Mafia gangster out on your first date, I bet it's real embarrassing if someone tries to kill you.
Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what is I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny.
If you go parachuting, and your parachute doesn't open, and you friends are all watching you fall, I think a funny gag would be to pretend you were swimming.
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.
Children need encouragement. If a kid gets an answer right, tell him it was a lucky guess. That way he develops a good, lucky feeling.
The crows seemed to be calling his name, thought Caw.
When you die, if you get a choice between going to regular heaven or pie heaven, choose pie heaven. It might be a trick, but if it's not, mmmmmmm, boy.
Whether they find a life there or not, I think Jupiter should be called an enemy planet.
Instead of trying to build newer and bigger weapons of destruction, we should be thinking about getting more use out of the ones we already have.
I think a good gift for the President would be a chocolate revolver. and since he is so busy, you'd probably have to run up to him real quick and give it to him.
Just because swans mate for life, I don't think its that big a deal. First of all, if you're a swan, you're probably not going to find a swan that looks much better than the one you've got, so why not mate for life?
If you're robbing a bank and you're pants fall down, I think it's okay to laugh and to let the hostages laugh too, because, come on, life is funny.
If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid looking in a mirror, because I bet that will really throw you into a panic.
Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead. No, wait, not me, you.
I can't stand cheap people. It makes me real mad when someone says something like, "Hey, when are you going to pay me that $100 you owe me?" or "Do you have that $50 you borrowed?" Man, quit being so cheap!
I think the mistake a lot of us make is thinking the state-appointed shrink is our friend.
I think one way the cops could make money would be to hold a murder weapons sale. Many people could really use used ice picks.
If you ever reach total enlightenment while drinking beer, I bet you could shoot beer out of you nose.
I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex.
Even though I was their captive, the Indians allowed me quite a bit of freedom. I could walk freely, make my own meals, and even hurl large rocks at their heads. It was only later that I discovered that they were not Indians at all but only dirty-clothes hampers.
I wish outer space guys would conquer the Earth and make people their pets, because I'd like to have one of those little beds with my name on it.
It's true that every time you hear a bell, an angel gets its wings. But what they don't tell you is that every time you hear a mouse trap snap, and Angel gets set on fire.
If you're in a war, instead of throwing a hand grenade at the enemy, throw one of those small pumpkins. Maybe it'll make everyone think how stupid war is, and while they are thinking, you can throw a real grenade at them.
I hope life isn't a big joke, because I don't get it.
The next time I have meat and mashed potatoes, I think I'll put a very large blob of potatoes on my plate with just a little piece of meat. And if someone asks me why I didn't get more meat, I'll just say, "Oh, you mean this?" and pull out a big piece of meat from inside the blob of potatoes, where I've hidden it. Good magic trick, huh?
Life, to me, is like a quiet forest pool, one that needs a direct hit from a big rock half-buried in the ground. You pull and you pull, but you can't get the rock out of the ground. So you give it a good kick, but you lose your balance and go skidding down the hill toward the pool. Then out comes a big Hawaiian man who was screwing his wife beside the pool because they thought it was real pretty. He tells you to get out of there, but you start faking it, like you're talking Hawaiian, and then he gets mad and chases you...
Sometimes, when I drive across the desert in the middle of the night, with no other cars around, I start imagining: What if there were no civilization out there? No cities, no factories, no people? And then I think: No people or factories? Then who made this car? And this highway? And I get so confused I have to stick my head out the window into the driving rain---unless there's lightning, because I could get struck on the head by a bolt.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 scrambled to the top of the precipice where Nick was waiting. "That was fun," I said. "You bet it was," said Nick. "Let's climb higher." "No," I said. "I think we should be heading back now." "We have time," Nick insisted. I said we didn't, and Nick said we did. We argued back and forth like that for about 20 minutes, then finally decided to head back. I didn't say it was an interesting story.
If you're a Thanksgiving dinner, but you don't like the stuffing or the cranberry sauce or anything else, just pretend like you're eating it, but instead, put it all in your lap and form it into a big mushy ball. Then, later, when you're out back having cigars with the boys, let out a big fake cough and throw the ball to the ground. Then say, "Boy, these are good cigars!"
I remember that one fateful day when Coach took me aside. I knew what was coming. "You don't have to tell me," I said. "I'm off the team, aren't I?" "Well," said Coach, "you never were really ON the team. You made that uniform you're wearing out of rags and towels, and your helmet is a toy space helmet. You show up at practice and then either steal the ball and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times." It was all true what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this Coach. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that's when I felt the handcuffs go on.
If I ever opened a trampoline store, I don't think I'd call it Trampo-Land, because you might think it was a store for tramps, which is not the inpression we are trying to convey with our store. On the other hand, we would not prohibit tramps from browsing, or testing the trampolines, unless a tramp's gyrations seemed to be getting out of control.
I can still recall old Mister Barnslow getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of tadpoles to the 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.
Once when I was in Hawaii, on the island of Kauai, I met a mysterious old stranger. He said he was about to die and wanted to tell someone about the treasure. I said, "Okay, as long as it's not a long story. Some of us have a plane to catch, you know." He stared telling hes story, about the treasure and his life and all, and I thought: "This story isn't too long." But then, he kept going, and I started thinking, "Uh-oh, this story is getting long." But then the story was over, and I said to myself: "You know, that story wasn't too long after all." I forget what the story was about, but there was a good movie on the plane. It was a little long, though.
I bet a fun thing would be to go way back in time to where there was going to be an eclipse and tell the cave men, "If I have come to destroy you, may the sun be blotted out from the sky." Just then the eclipse would start, and they'd probably try to kill you or something, but then you could explain about the rotation of the moon and all, and everyone would get a good laugh.
I wouldn't be surprised if someday some fishermen caught a big shark and cut it open, and there inside was a whole person. Then they cut the person open, and in him is a little baby shark. And in the baby shark there isn't a person, because it would be too small. But there's a little doll or something, like a Johnny Combat little toy guy---something like that.
As I walked through the woods, I looked up and saw a squirrel. I smiled and he smiled. At least I think it was a smile. My teeth were showing and my cheeks were pulled up. That's a smile, isn't it? (The squirrel was definitely smiling.)
When I shake hands with a man, the first thing I do is look him right in the eye. Then I start poking my hand around in the air, pretending like I can't find his hand. Then, if the guy's still there, I finally shake it.
If a kid ever asks you how Santa Claus can live forever, I think a good answer is that he drinks blood.
Here's a tip: If you ever decide to take apart a bird's nest, to see how it's made, first make sure it's not somebody's basket they got in South America.
Here's a good joke to do during an earthquake: straddle a big crack in the ground, and if it opens wider, go "Whoa! Whoa!" and flail your arms around, like you're going to fall in.
I guess the hard thing for a lot of people to accept is why God would allow me to go running through their yards, yelling and spinning around.
We like to praise birds for flying. But how much of it is actually flying, and how much of it is just sort of coasting from the previous flap?
Today I accidentally stepped on a snail on the sidewalk in front of our house. And I thought, I too am like that snail. I build a defensive wall around myself, a "shell" if you will. But my shell isn't made out of a hard, protective substance. Mine is made out of tinfoil and paper bags.
Higher beings from outer space may not want to tell us the secrets of life, because we're not ready. But maybe they'll change their tune after a little torture.
If you ever go temporarily insane, don't shoot somebody, like a lot of people do. Instead, try to get some weeding done, because you'd really be surprised.
I'd like to see a James Bond movie where James Bond gets behind financially and maybe has to take out a bill consolidation loan, because even when he's applying for the loan he's still real smart-alecky.
There was probably an old Viking saying that said, "Ax in the head, early to bed; ax in the helmet, a friend of Helmut."
Don't ever get your speedometer confused with your clock, like I did once, because the faster you go the later you think you are.
Marta says the interesting thing about fly fishing is that it's two lives connected by a thin strand. Come on, Marta. Grow up.
To my way of thinking, there's nothing that can't be cured by a big ol' pot o beans. Except maybe bean fever.
One year Dad decided he was going to take us on a "surprise vacation." We wouldn't know where we were going until we got there. We were all real excited when we piled into the station wagon early one morning. We went about five blocks, then we got in an accident at a four-way stop. I guess it was a pretty good surprise, but why did we need all that camping gear?
I wish somebody would invent a fruit that had no seeds, tasted delicious, and would scream when you ate it.
I bet if you were a mummy wrapper in ancient Egypt, one thing you would constantly find yourself telling people would be, "Be sure, before I start, you have all the jewelry and so forth on the body, because I am not unwrapping him later."
To become a knife thrower in the circus, they probably don't let you start off throwing at a live woman. They start you out with a little girl.
I wouldn't mind if animals ate my body, after I'm dead. And before I'm dead, they could lick me.
Here's a suggestion for a new animal, if some new one gets created or evolve: something that stings you, then laughs at you.
"I'll take that little one, way in the back," I said. "That little collie mix?" said the animal shelter guy. "No," I said, "the other one behind him." "The gray terrier?" he said. "He's gray," I said, "but way in the back, in the corner." "You mean the water faucet?" he said. I realized then it was a water faucet, but I didn't want to look like a jerk, so I said, "Yeah, that's the one I want." It ended up costing me almost five hundred dollars to get that faucet removed. But you know, I've still got that faucet, and I wouldn't trade it for any dog in the world.
Instead of putting a quarter under a kid's pillow, how about a pinecone? That way, he learns that "wishing" isn't going to save our national forests.
Advice to vampires: why not "do your business" as a bat, not a human. Easier that way, and less pollution.
Instead of a bicycle built for two, what about no kinds of bicycles at all for anybody, anymore? There, are you happy now?
I think that a hat that has a little cannon that fires and then goes back inside the hat is at least a decade away.
Instead of mousetraps, what about baby traps? Not to harm the babies, but just to hold them down until they can be removed.
I'll never forget my first true love. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. From her dark, raven hair to her slender, yellow, scaly feet, she was all woman. She loved corn, and could eat it all day with her hard, yellowish lips. "Caw!" she would yell, as a joke, then flap her arms with delight. One day, she was sitting on a fence, and some guy shot her.
If you're traveling in a time machine, and you're eating corn on the cob, I don't think it's going to affect things one way or the other. But here's the point I'm trying to make: Corn on the cob is good, isn't it.
It was really sad when I went to visit my friend Jim at the state mental institution. He was convinced he was on a tropical island with no cares and no worries. It took me a long time to convince him that no, he was in a room with bare walls and a bare bed and he was wearing a straitjacket.
If you were a gladiator in olden days, I bet the inefficiency of how gladiator fights were organized and scheduled would just drive you up a wall.
For mad scientists who keep brains in jars, here's a tip: why not add a slice of lemon to each jar, for freshness.
If you're ever on an airplane that's crashing, see if you can't organize a quick thing of group sex, because come on, you squares.
What started out to be a nice pleasant drive into the country turned into the "Afternoon from Hell." First of all, when Marta and I were leaving, the cats looked at us like, "Where are you going?" Then, when we were driving, we had to stop and get gas. So right there that's time taken away from looking at scenery. Then, when we got home, guess what the cats are doing? Sleeping! Man, what next?
Normally I'm not one to believe in little green men from Mars. But one night, as I was driving home from a party, I caught something in my headlights I still can't explain. It had weird, catlike eyes and only stood about a foot tall. It was covered with grayish fur, and walked on all fours, like a cat. It had a tail, which if I had to describe in terms of something here on Earth was, in a way, like a cat's. Also, it was carrying a ray gun in its mouth. It was either a ray gun or a mouse.
When I went for my first job interview, I guess I was pretty confident, because I told the guy who was interviewing me he was fired. I didn't get the job, but that isn't what bothered me. What bothered me was I found out a few months later that that guy was still working there. Hey, man, I fired you!
When he was a little boy, he had always wanted to be an acrobat. It looked like so much fun, spinning through the air, flipping, landing on other people's shoulders. Little did he know that when he finally did become an acrobat, it would seem so boring. Years later, after he finally quit, he found out he hadn't been working as an acrobat after all. He had just been a street weirdo.
If I was being executed by injection, I'd clean up my cell real neat. Then, when they came to get me, I'd say, "Injection? I thought you said 'inspection.'" They'd probably feel real bad, and maybe I could get out of it.
When I think back on all the blessings I have been given in my life, I can't think of a single one, unless you could that rattlesnake that granted me all those wishes.
Grandpa used to describe the size of everything in terms of a calf. For instance, if he was describing a large dog, he would say it was "about as big as a calf." Or about a car, he would say it "could seat four calves comfortably." (Oh, that was another thing: how many calves could ride in something.) One time he was talking about a calf he had, and I asked him how big it was. He said it was "about three-quarters as big as a calf." Sometimes Grandpa would tell time by calves. If you asked him how long something would take, he'd say, "About as long as it takes a calf to drive over here."
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 made fun of the soldering iron of justice, and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.
If I was a father in a waiting room, and the nurse came out and said, "Congratulations, it's a girl," I think a good gag would be to get real mad and yell, "A girl? You must have mixed me up with that dork!" and point to another father.
I think the biggest mistake I ever made in my life was not eating all of that guy's pie instead of just half of it, because he was in the restroom for at least another two or three minutes.
When we would go for a drive in the family car, I used to love to stick my head out the window, until one time we passed an oncoming car and my head knocked off a dog's head.
We asked Dad if we could have a trampoline, but he said no, that they were too dangerous and too expensive. But then we went and talked to the trampoline salesman at the store, and he said they weren't too expensive or dangerous. I think I'm still sorta mad at Dad for lying to us like that.
It's interesting to think that my ancestors used to live in the trees, like apes, until finally they got the nerve to head out onto the plains, where some were probably hit by cars.
When Rick told me he was having trouble with his wife, I had to laugh. Not because of what he said, but because of a joke I thought of. I told him the joke, but he didn't laugh very much. Some friend he is.
When I heard that trees grow a new "ring" for each year they live, I thought, we humans are kind of like that: we grow a new layer of skin each year, and after many years we are thick and unwieldy from all our skin layers.
Instead of a regular arm, Carl had been born with a pigeon's wing. The odd thing was, all through his life, no one had ever laughed at his wing - not even the mean kids at school. Then one day he realized why: He looked in the mirror and saw that HE WAS A PIGEON! He shit right there, as he often did, wherever he was
If you ever discover that what you're seeing is a play within a play, just slow down, take a deep breath, and hold on for the ride of your life.
The king threw back his head and laughed. He enjoyed a good laugh, and so did his wife, the queen. When she saw the king laughing she let out a big laugh too. In fact, she laughed so hard she broke her throne. This made them both laugh harder. Then they got serious when they remembered they had the plague. "The plague," said the king, but the way he said it made them both burst out laughing again.
When I picked up the little dead mouse that my cat had killed, at first I felt sad. Then I felt hungry. I forget what happened after that.
Like jewels in a crown, the precious stones glittered in the queen's round metal hat.
I think a good scene in a movie would be where one scientist tells another scientist: "You know what will save the world? You're holding it in your hand." And the other scientist looks, and in his hand are some peanuts. Then, when he looks up, the first scientist is being taken away to the insane asylum.
I think the things you remember most are the little things, like that little space guy I kept tied up down in the basement. That little guy was only about five inches tall! He used to beg me to untie his rope, but I knew he'd just run away if I did. I think the cat finally got him, but the cat had little burn marks on him, from where the space guy shot him with his little gun, before his ammo ran out. I remember things like that.
If I lived back in the olden days, and the doctor put leeches on me, I'd tell him to put them on my face, in the shape of a beard, so I could see how I'd look.
I think a good movie would be about a guy who's a brain scientist, but he gets hit on the head and it damages the part of the brain that makes you want to study the brain.
If you lose your job, your marriage and your mind all in one week, try to lose your mind first, because then the other stuff won't matter that much.
When I was a kid, the people next door had this little yappy poodle that I used to make fun of all the time. I thought it was real stupid-looking and annoying. But let me tell you, I didn't make fun of it after the time it saved my life. How did it save my live? It's a long story. Too long to tell here. But I can tell you it was full of excitement and danger, and afterwards I never made fun of that poodle again. Well, I suppose I can at least try to tell the story. I'm still not sure I believe it myself, so many strange and fantastic things happened. Briefly what happened, though, is this: I was walking across a vacant lot near my house when I heard a noise. I turned. You know what? This story is just too hard to try to tell here. Just believe it when I say that the poodle came out of nowhere to attack a cobra. Where did the cobra come from? Okay, I guess I can at least tell that part. No, I'm going to change my mind again. It's just too hard to explain - although if I did explain it, you would be glued to the edge of your seat. Maybe someday I'll tell the story of the poodle and the cobra. No, I won't. It's a good one though.
I'll never forget the time we were at the beach and we buried Uncle Joe in the sand. Boy, did we get in trouble! In fact, we got arrested. It turns out you can't bury people at the beach. Only at the cemetery.
If I was a cowboy in a lynch mob, I think I'd try to stay near the back. That way, if somebody shamed us into disbanding, I could sort of slip off to the side and pretend I was window-shopping or something.
I'd like to see a guy tap-dancing so fast his legs actually broke, because it would finally establish a "tap barrier," and we could move on from there.
You know what's probably a good thing to hang on your porch in the summertime, to keep mosquitoes away from you and your guests? Just a big bag full of blood.
You know how to paint a room real fast? Just put paint rollers on your feet and somehow figure out how to skate up the walls and across the ceiling.
Broken promises don't upset me. I just think, why did they believe me?
If you see an animal and you can't tell if it's a skunk or a cat, here's a good saying to help: "Black and white, stinks all right. Tabby-colored, likes a fella."
Instead of raising your hand to ask a question in class, how about individual push buttons on each desk? That way, when you want to ask a question, you just push the button and it lights up a corresponding number on a tote board at the front of the class. Then all the professor has to do is check the lighted number against a master sheet of names and numbers to see who is asking the question.
If you go through a lot of hammers each month, I don't think it necessarily means you're a hard worker. It may just mean that you have a lot to learn about proper hammer maintenance.
The first time I ever tried to milk a cow at Grandpa's farm, I didn't even know which end of the cow to milk! Then I guess I got even dumber, because the next time I couldn't even find the barn. Then the last time, I just went out in the woods and lived, with no clothes.
When I told Dad I wanted a kite he said, "Okay, but instead of buying a kite, let's make one." So we did. Then, about a month later, we also made me a bicycle, but it blew away.
You might think that the favorite plant of the porcupine is the cactus, but it's thinking like that that has almost ruined this country.
I think a cute movie idea would be about a parrot who is raised by eagles. It would be cute because the parrot can't seem to act like an eagle. After a while, though, to keep the movie from getting boring, maybe put in some pornography. Later, we see the happy parrot flying along, acting like an eagle. He sees two parrots below and starts to attack, but it's his parents. Then, some more pornography.
I'm not sure it's good to think back to my childhood memories, because I end up feeling happy and sad at the same time, and that gives me a weird "neutral" feeling.
I think a good novel would be where a bunch of men on a ship are looking for a whale. They look and look, but you know what? They never find him. And you know why they never find him? It doesn't say. The book leaves it up to you, the reader, to decide. Then, at the very end, there's a page that can lick and it tastes like Kool-Aid.
The way I see it, kids need exercise more than they need ice cream. So when I worked as an ice cream man, driving an ice cream truck, I would try to drive fast enough that the kid wouldn't catch me, but not so fast that he'd give up right away. Some kids will chase you for eight or nine blocks.
Sometimes I think you have to march right in and demand your rights, even if you don't know what your rights are, or who the person is you're talking to. Then, on the way out, slam the door.
Whenever I start thinking that I am not living up to my potential, I remind myself of the old farmer and his fight to the death with the insane pig. It's an exciting story, and it takes my mind off all this "potential" business.
One good thing about hell, at least, is you can probably pee wherever you want to.
When you're ten years old, and a car drives by and splashes a puddle of water all over you, it's hard to decide if you should go to school like that or try to go home and change and probably be late. So while he was trying to decide, I drove by and splashed him again.
Life is funny. One minute you're a little kid, running through a meadow, and the next, you're a skeleton, walking through a meadow, with dogs chasing you.
Police Detective Riley was a no-nonsense kind of guy. Before, he really loved nonsense, and would use it a lot in his murder investigations. But he found that most people didn't appreciate it, especially the family of the victim.
At first I thought a good way to get people to dig you some flower beds for free would be to call the police and say you buried some bodies in your backyard. But here's the catch: they dig everywhere, not just where you tell them to.
Whether they live in an igloo or a grass shack or a mud hut, people around the world all want the same thing: a better house!
If someone told me it wasn't "fashionable" to talk about freedom, I think I'd just have to look him square in the eye and say, "Okay, you tell me what's 'fashionable.'" But he won't. And you know why? Because you can't ask someone what's fashionable in a smart-alecky way like that. You have to be friendly and say, "By the way, what's fashionable?"
When my cousin Billy came and stayed at our house for a week, at first everything seemed okay. But then I started noticing things were missing. The first thing was a bag of garbage we kept under the kitchen sink. Then the piles of ashes and butts in the ashtrays. Then all the weeds in the yard. I never said anything to him, but we never invited him back.
The other day I got out my can opener and was opening a can of worms when I thought, "What am I doing?!"
I remember when we were kids, one of our favorite games was to play "pirate." We'd dress up like pirates. Then we'd go find an adult walking down the street and we'd go up to him and pull out our butcher knives, which we called "swords," and say, "We're pirates! Give us your money!" A lot of adults would pretend to be scared and give us their money. Others would suddenly run away, yelling for help. We played pirate until we were twenty or so.
In some countries, what I did would be considered polite, especially Fartland.
One of the bad things about panning for gold is maybe sometimes you'll get a crawdaddy in your pan, and you start to wonder if you should give up on the gold and just go for crawdaddies. I can't make that decision for you.
As I felt the soft cool mud squish between my toes, I thought, Man, these are not very good shoes!
It's not good to let any kid near a container that has a skull and crossbones on it, because there might be a skeleton costume inside and the kid could put it on and really scare you.
I remember the first time I ever went to the museum and saw the mummy. At first I was afraid of it. So, to get over my fear, I started pointing at the mummy and doing a funny little dance. But then I couldn't stop doing the dance. Something made me dance faster and faster until finally I fell on the floor. Even then I couldn't stop doing the dance. I flailed about helplessly, yelling some weird Egyptian words! Then I think I passed out, from hitting my head on the marble floor. Now, I'm happy to say, I'm no longer afraid of the mummy, mainly because I don't go there anymore.
One day one of my little nephews came up to me and asked me if the equator was a real line that went around the Earth, or just an imaginary one. I had to laugh. And laugh and laugh. Because I didn't know, and I thought that maybe by laughing he would forget what he asked me.
Here's a good thing to do if you go to a party and you don't know anybody: First, take out the garbage. Then go around and collect any extra garbage that people might have, like a crumpled-up napkin, and take that out too. Pretty soon people will want to meet the busy garbage guy.
One year Dad decided he was going to save money on haircuts, so he bought an electric haircutter kit. At first everything went fine, but then he gave us haircuts. They were horrible. Then everything seemed to be going fine for a while, but then he gave us haircuts again. So I guess, mostly, it was a good idea.
If I ever get real rich, I hope I'm not real mean to poor people, like I am now.
When Dad found out the house was full of termites, he got real mad. But I was glad, because now I wouldn't have to go all the way to the woods to get termites for my termite farm.
To us, it might look like just a rag. But to the brave, embattled men of the fort, it was more than that. It was a flag of surrender. And after that, it was torn up and used for shoe-shine rags, so the men would look nice for the surrender.
I bet a funny thing about driving a car off a cliff is, while you're in midair, you still hit those brakes! Hey, better try the emergency brake!
I wish scientists would come up with a way to make dogs a lot bigger, but with a smaller head. That way, they'd still be good as watchdogs, but they wouldn't eat so much.
If I could go back and change one thing in my life, I think it would be that time I found that one-dollar bill on the sidewalk. I would change it to a million-dollar bill.
What am I afraid of? I'll tell you: a feather. That's right, a feather. How could anyone be afraid of a feather, you say. That's an honest question, and I'll try to give it an honest answer. First of all, did I say it was a poison feather?
As the snow started to fall, he tugged his coat tighter around himself. Too tight, as it turned out. "This is the fourth coat crushing this year," said the police sergeant as he outlined the body with a special pencil that writes on snow.
I didn't want to cut down that tree. But I had no choice. It was growing right where I'm going to build my house, if I can ever get enough money together to build it and if I also have enough money to buy the land. That's another thing: I need to find out who owns that land.
I bet when they weren't fighting, Vikings with horn helmets had to stick potatoes on the ends of the horns, so as to avoid eye-pokings to fellow Vikings and lady Vikings.
The first cigarette I ever had I smoked behind Grandpa's barn. It made me dizzy, and I coughed a lot. "Don't worry, that always happens with the first one," said Grandpa. "Try another one." And you know, he was right.
I think somebody should come up with a way to breed a very large shrimp. That way, you could ride him, then, after you camped at night, you could eat him. How about it, science?
One day Dad asked me to go fishing with him. I got scared. I had the feeling he was going to try to drown me. I don't know why I thought that, because so far he had never tried to kill me. But he had never taken me fishing either, so I was suspicious. When we got to the lake, he walked right up to it. "Hey, son, come here," he said. "Look at these minnows." "Nice try, Dad - if that's your real name!" I yelled. Then I ran back to the car and locked myself in. Dad never took me fishing again. So I think that proves my case.
Sometimes kids are so cruel to animals, especially insects. I remember one time I caught this grasshopper, and I made him wear a little straw hat that I had made. Also a little pair of denim overalls. And I made him hold this little tiny pitchfork. So guess what he looked like? What is the enemy of the grasshopper and the one thing he wouldn't want to look like? That's right, a farmer.
If I ever become a mummy, I'm going to have it so when somebody opens my lid a boxing glove on a spring shoots out.
I only played hooky one time, so I'll never forget it. I hid in the bushes right outside my classroom. And since the window was open, I could hear the teacher, so I went ahead and took notes. When the teacher asked a question, I raided my hand, but she couldn't see me.
The first time I ever saw the ocean, I was real disappointed. "That's the ocean?!" I said. No, said Mom and Dad, that's just the parking lot. When we pulled into the lot, I was real disappointed in it. It was hard to find a spot, and the spaces seemed way too narrow, in my book. The ocean was okay, I guess, but I still can't get over how disappointing that parking lot was.
Mom always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up, "within reason." When I asked her what she meant by "within reason," she said, "You ask a lot of questions for a garbage man."
I couldn't believe it! Someone had stolen my new sled! My brand-new, all-white sled, with the runners I had painted white and the white tow-rope and my name written on the top, in white. I asked all of my so-called friends which one of them took it, but they all denied it. Finally, in the spring, right after the snow melted, the thief brought it back to where I had left it.
One thing I always felt bad about was kicking Grandma in the head with my football shoes on. But what was her head doing right by the football like that? And how did the football get in her bed?
If the Captain invited me to his party, after he had whipped me earlier in the day up on deck, I guess I'd go, but I'd try to find some excuse to leave early.
As I stood there looking at the beautiful waterfall, I wondered how many other people had stood there, and how many had candy corn "teeth" sticking out between their lips like I did.
When I was a kid, I used to think you could jump off the roof of our house using an umbrella as a parachute. I thought my little brother could, anyway.
There are many stages to a man's life. In the first stage, he is young and eager, like a beaver. In the second stage, he wants to build things, like dams, and maybe chew down some trees. In the third stage, he feels trapped, and then "skinned." I'm not sure what the fourth stage is.
If you were a pirate, you know what would be the one thing that would really make you mad? Treasure chests with no handles. How the hell are you supposed to carry it?!
Every summer we'd get our baskets and buckets and go out into the hills and woods, looking for wild strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries. We never found any, though
It makes me mad when people say I turned and ran like a scared rabbit. Maybe it was like an angry rabbit, who was running to go fight in another fight, away from the first fight
If you were an ancient barbarian, I bet a real embarrassing thing would be if you were sacking Rome and your cape got caught on something and you couldn't get it unhooked, and you had to ask another barbarian to unhook it for you.
They were a proud people. In fact, some said they were too proud. If you asked them whey they were so proud, they'd just laugh and say, "We're not even going to answer that."
When I found the skull in the woods, the first thing I did was call the police. But then I got curious about it. I picked it up, and started wondering who this person was, and why he had deer horns.
One day a beaver and a termite were walking down the road together. "I can eat through a tree with my teeth," said the beaver. "That's nothing," said the termite, "I can burrow through a tree." Then they heard a voice behind them. "You two think you're so smart, but you're nothing!" It was a bitter old drunk lady.
Frank knew that no man had ever crossed the desert on foot and lived to tell about it. So, he decided to get back in his car and keep driving.
If you lived in the Dark Ages, and you were a catapult operator, I bet the most common question people would ask is, "Can't you make it shoot farther?" No. I'm sorry. That's as far as it shoots.
I remember the time I asked Grandpa what he did in the war. At first he didn't say anything. Then he pulled a frozen T-bone steak from under his shirt. "I stole this," he said. "No," I said, "not the store, the war." He showed me a red mark on his stomach and said he was wounded, but I think it was from the T-bone.
I don't advocate that children start smoking. But for those kids who already do smoke, boy, it's good, isn't it?
I don't remember much at all from when I was born, except for the bright lights and being held upside down and being slapped hard on my bottom. Also, I remember thinking the doctor had a funny mustache, and when I grew up I would never have a mustache like that.
I think it should be a law that if you ever get sucked up into a tornado, whatever you can grab with your hands while you're swirling around up there, you get to keep.
One thing a computer can do that most humans can't is be sealed up in a cardboard box and sit in a warehouse.
A lot of times when you first start out on a project you think, This is never going to be finished. But then it is, and you think, Wow, it wasn't even worth it.
Once, when I got lost in the woods, I was afraid that eventually I might have to eat Tippy. But finally I found my way home, and I was able to put Tippy back in the refrigerator with my other sandwiches.
If your kid makes one of those little homemade guitars out of a cigar box and rubber bands, don't let him just play it once or twice and then throw it away. Make him practice on it, every day, for about three hours a day. Later, he'll thank you.
I wish I would have a real tragic love affair and get so bummed out that I'd just quit my job and become a bum for a few years, because I was thinking about doing that anyway.
What is it about a beautiful sunny afternoon, with the birds singing and the wind rustling through the leaves, that makes you want to get drunk. And after you're real drunk, maybe go down to the public park and stagger around and ask people for money, and then lay down and go to sleep.
Basically, this is the way the economy works: I do a service for you, and you pay me, even if you claim you didn't want the service and that I "ruined" something of yours.
When I gave the bellboy his tip, he just sort of snarled at me. So I gave him some more money, but he just kept snarling. More money, more snarling. Finally I realized, Hey, you're not the bellboy, this is a robbery! I asked him anyway if he would carry my bag, but he wouldn't.
I'll never forget the time I got caught stealing watermelons from old Mr. Barnslow's watermelon patch. I was with my friend Bobby. We were giggling so hard I thought I'd wet my pants! At first we tried to steal two watermelons each, but they were too heavy and we dropped them, and that made us laugh even harder. Finally, we each picked out a good one, and we were just about to sneak back through the fence when we heard a low, deep voice behind us. "Just where do you think you're going with those watermelons?" I gulped and turned around. It was old Mr. Barnslow, pointing his shotgun at us. Bobby dropped his watermelon, then pulled out the .38 revolver he kept in his waist, turned, and fired. But the turning must have thrown off his aim, because the shot only hit Mr. Barnslow in the thigh. Mr. Barnslow immediately fired both barrels at Bobby. One blast of buckshot missed entirely, but the other tore into Bobby's shoulder. He tried to fire back, but his shoulder was so torn up he couldn't raise his arm. Just as he was trying to switch to his left hand, Mr. Barnslow ran up and cracked him across the face with the butt of his shotgun. Bobby fell to the ground in a heap. Mr. Barnslow raised the butt of his gun to finish him off, but just then Bobby pulled out his hunting knife and plunged it into the farmer's big white belly. After that, I don't think I stole watermelons for at least a year.
Sometimes it's hard to tell if something is actually a memory, or you just dreamed it. So I asked my boss if I called him a lying, stinking thief, or I just dreamed it, and he said I just dreamed it. Whew, that was close.
I guess one of the funniest memories of my grandfather was the time I was at his house and that tied-up man with the gag in his mouth came hopping out of the closet and started yelling that he was really my grandfather and the other guy was an imposter and to run for help. Who was that guy?! Oh, well, never saw him again.
I think a new, different kind of bowling should be "carpet bowling." It's just like regular bowling, only the lanes are carpet instead of wood. I don't know why we should do this, but my God, we've got to try something!
For a while there, instead of calling Grandpa "Grandpa," I started calling him "Grandpappy." But he didn't like that, and asked me to go back to Grandpa. So I did, but I changed it a little. I put an "e" in instead of an "a," so it became "Grendpa." At first he didn't notice, but then he said, "What did you call me?" "Grandpa," I said. But then I went back to calling him Grendpa. Finally he just said to go ahead and call him Grandpappy, which I did, only I changed it a little bit to "Grendpeppy."
When I was seven, I told my friend Timmy Barker I would give him a million dollars if he would eat an earthworm. He ate the worm, but I never gave him the million dollars. As of last week, all I had given him was $9,840.
I'm not afraid of insects taking over the world, and you know why? It would take about a billion ants just to aim a gun at me, let alone fire it. And you know what I'm doing while they're aiming it at me? I just sort of slip off to the side, and then suddenly run up and kick the gun out of their hands.
For me, the worst thing about having King Kong walk down your street is that kids could look up and see the giant genitalia.
I hope I never have to use my underpants as a flag, because after that I could never let my underpants touch the ground.
The wise man can pick up a grain of sand and envision a whole universe. But the stupid man will just lay down on some seaweed and roll around until he's completely draped in it. Then he'll stand up and go, "Hey, I'm Vine Man."
Aunt Lucy always used to win first prize at the county fair for her apple pie. It wasn't a real county fair - that's just what they called it at the mental home where she lived. And it wasn't a real apple pie either. Usually it was a ball of dough with tongue depressors and pieces of gum sticking out of it. Still, she won.
Mom used to make the most beautiful Easter eggs. Then she'd hide them in the backyard. But they were so beautiful, when we found one, we weren't allowed to pick it up. We had to point at it, and then Mom would come pick it up with her white gloves and put it back in its case. Somebody ended up smashing all those eggs with a hammer. I think it was our dog.
At summer camp one night it was my turn to tell a ghost story around the campfire. I started to tell this story about a murderer who has a hook for a hand, but then I saw that one of the kids sitting there had a hook instead of a hand. When I saw that, I let out a big scream and went running for my tent, as fast as my little legs could take me.
The tired and thirsty prospector threw himself down at the edge of the watering hole and started to drink. But then he looked around and saw skulls and bones everywhere. Uh-oh, he thought. This watering hole is reserved for skeletons.
Every year at Christmastime a whole set of emotions sweeps over me - emotions which probably go back to my childhood. The first emotion is wondering if I'm going to get any presents. Then it changes to "Hooray, I got some presents!" Then it changes to "Is that all the presents I got?"
I think Superman and Santa Claus are actually the same guy, and I'll tell you why: Both fly, and both have a beard.
Most of the time it was probably real bad being stuck down in a dungeon. But some days, when there was a bad storm outside, you'd look out your little window and think, "Boy, I'm glad I'm not out in that."
You know something that would really make me applaud? A guy gets stuck in quicksand, then sinks, then suddenly comes shooting out, riding on water skis! How do they do that?!