THE MOON LANDING WAS AN INSIDE JOB
A lot of people have been talking about “threats to the institution of marriage.” What you are all failing to realize is that the real threat to marriage is me. I have strapped ten pounds of plastic explosive to the institution of marriage. Any attempt to remove or defuse it will cause it to detonate. The bomb will go off in twenty-four hours, unless I am given ten million dollars in unmarked, non-sequential US currency. The choice is yours, America.
I support ghost marriage equality. Your dead ancestors should be allowed to marry whichever one of someone else’s dead ancestors they want.
People say ghost hunting is all bullshit. I say it’s all worth it once you field-dress a ghost and then mount it to the hood of your car. I bagged an eight-point poltergeist the other day and let me tell you, there’s nothing like it. My family will be eating ghost steaks for weeks.
Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet. Stranglers are also friends you haven’t met yet, but then you meet them, and they are not your friends.
We are told from a very early age that we should endeavor to live our dreams whenever possible, but then when I go to my third grade classroom without any clothes on, the response is unsupportive to say the least. The hypocrisy of our society is staggering.
Love may hurt sometimes, friend, but it’s the only game in town. Well, and the old guy over there who’ll play lawn darts with you. And we have an air hockey table at the rec center. So love and lawn darts and air hockey. Those are the only games in town.
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When I was just a boy, my mama told me, “Son, never trust a woman with a wild streak and an easy smile and who is also wearing a big sandwich board that says ‘DON’T TRUST ME’ on either side.”
"Very well, you may have passage," said the knight, "but only if you can answer a riddle." Rumio nodded his head in agreement, and the knight spoke:
“What crawls upon its belly, eats mice for meals, and hisses instead of speaking?”
Rumio furrowed his brow, then answered, “Um…a snake?”
“No!” said the knight. “The answer is: A guy who’s doing all those things because he’s crazy.”
“…I don’t think you understand how this is supposed to work,” said Rumio.
The merchant examined the bag of stones Rumio had presented, and gave a sigh. “These stones are worthless,” he said. “But one of my small sacks has become worn and I need to replace it, and I have a young niece who collects little baubles like these. So I will give you a few coins for the bag and its contents.”
“Easy come, easy go,” said Rumio. “Your offer is fair.”
Then, to himself, the merchant said, “This boy is a fool. These are not worthless stones but rubies! The Sultan will pay a handsome sum for them.”
“On second thought,” said Rumio, “I’ll keep the bag and the stones. Thanks for the offer, though.” He put the bag back on his belt, and the other man could not hide a look of mild consternation.
“What?” asked the merchant. “But why?”
And Rumio answered, “I heard you say that whole thing about the rubies. I’m pretty sure you weren’t addressing me directly but you were still talking out loud. I have no idea why you thought I wouldn’t hear that.”
Then, Rumio asked the wise hermit, “But in the end, is love worth its own difficult pursuit?”
The old man was silent a while, then replied, “Well, it’s…Huh. I guess so, yeah. Sure it is. I really haven’t thought about it. Look, if you were going to ask what truth is, I had a really good one all ready for that. Or, like, something about greatness so I could tell you this ironic parable about a mountain. Had that one right in the holster. So I guess yeah. Yeah, it’s worth it. There’s your answer.”
Rumio nodded and said, “Ah.” He did not understand, but was being polite.