Narrative joke delivery styles, punchline pacing, and comedy formats for people with specific chaos preferences from Chaotic Meh — organized so the algorithm can pretend this place has adult supervision.
When I’m sitting in a restaurant with a date and she asks, “Do you mind if I smoke?” I always feel like saying, “No, but do you mind if I sit here beside you and discreetly masturbate under the tablecloth?”
Regrettably, I never do, since by the time she gets around to asking about the cigarette, I’m usually half finished and have no intention of stopping anyway.
It was in 1875 that my great-great-grandmother Elsa began appearing on stages throughout the Old West, and scaring the crap out of the passengers.
If hell is having to watch your worst decisions over and over forever, I really hope they give you a better judgment system than you had when you made those decisions. If they don’t, they’ll have to sit and explain to you why you were wrong. And chances are they still won’t get through to you. Then they’ll have to think up some new punishment. Probably something involving bees.
The Lone Ranger is riding across the range when he gets captured by a group of Native Americans.
The tribal leader shows the Lone Ranger his deepest respect, as the Ranger is considered an honorable man. He offers the Ranger three wishes before he is to be put to death by fire.
The Ranger calls for his faithful horse, Silver, and whispers in the horse’s ear. The horse rides off into the distance and a short time later returns with a beautiful blonde riding in his saddle.
The tribal leader is impressed and offers his personal tent to the Ranger. After some time in the tent, the Ranger emerges and asks for his horse again. He whispers in the horse’s ear, and Silver darts off into the distance. This time, Silver returns with a beautiful brunette on his saddle.
The tribal leader is impressed yet again and gestures toward his tent. Once the Ranger emerges from the tent, he asks to see his horse one last time.
The Ranger slaps Silver as hard as he can and says, “Read my lips, you stupid horse! I said POSSE!”
The frogs looked real. In fact, I was sure they were. But could they play those little musical instruments, especially burdened by that patina of lacquer inhibiting their movement? Only time would tell, and I had all night.
The pope should change his name to Bob. Then he would be Bob Pope, and he could have charity golf tournaments and go around the world on tours with a star-studded cast as his entourage. It would certainly liven up his shows a bit.
An American, a Brit, and a German get sent to hell. Satan says, “You’re all here forever—but every 10 years, each of you gets one adjustment.”
The American gets dragged over razor-sharp, red-hot coals every day.
The Brit gets skinned by demons with pitchforks.
The German gets strapped into a machine that smashes him in the balls with a spiked hammer every 10 minutes.
Ten years pass.
Satan asks the American, “Your one change?”
“Can I get smoother rocks?”
Granted.
He asks the Brit, “Your one change?”
“Can the demons use plastic spoons instead?”
Granted.
He asks the German, “Your one change?”
“Yes. The mechanism is malfunctioning. It now strikes every 11 minutes. Kindly repair it.”
Some questions are better left unasked.
A girl goes into the doctor’s office for a checkup. As she takes off her blouse, the doctor notices a red “H” on her chest.
“How did you get that mark on your chest?” asks the doctor.
“Oh, my boyfriend went to Harvard, and he’s so proud of it he never takes off his Harvard sweatshirt, even when we make love,” she replies.
A couple of days later, another girl comes in for a checkup. As she takes off her blouse, he notices a blue “Y” on her chest.
“How did you get that mark on your chest?” the doctor asks.
“Oh, my boyfriend went to Yale, and he’s so proud of it that he never takes off his Yale sweatshirt, even when we make love,” she replies.
A couple of days later, another girl comes in for a checkup. As she takes off her blouse, he notices a green “M” on her chest.
“Do you have a boyfriend at Michigan?” asks the doctor.
She replies, “No, but I have a girlfriend at Wisconsin.”
“Why do you ask?”
