Query: Can you teach my alligator manners?
Psssh. That’s the problem with alligators today. If you ask me, it’s the damn rap music and soda pop. Gators ain’t meant to sit around all day, listening to the hip hop and playing Pac-Man on the Nintendo machine. It’s a slippery slope, with these little ‘uns today. One day, it’s not saying “Yes, ma’am” and “Yes, sir”. Next thing you know, they’re smoking crack rocks, listening to Li’l Diddy, and stealing cars.
Query: Can you catch herpes from a toilet seat?
Totally. My girlfriend did. I was out of town for work last month and she went to some fancy party for the Bengals at The Hyatt. She said she was wasted, but she remembers that the bathrooms were gross. Can you believe that?
Query: When would a 24-foot boat be required to carry at least one type B fire extinguisher?
For fuck’s sake, man! Will you quit being such a pussy? We’re on a boat. There’s water everywhere. Grab me another Keystone out of the cooler, open the Roman candles, and let’s spark up this bowl.
Query: Should we keep the severed head awake?
Fuck no, man! Put it in the duffelbag with the rest. Start the van. Let’s get out of here.
Query: Why were there so many glaciers?
Because Jesus hadn’t invented badass things like spray paint, cigarette boats, or the big block V8.
Query: When can skunks spray?
Usually between, “Oh shit, man, do you think that’s a” and “skunk?”
Query: How should a condom fit?
Easy. Low and flat across your hips. Wait…that’s the seatbelt on a plane. My bad. It should fit like and old sweater: tight at the top and kind of loose around the middle. Wait, that’s not right. You’ve gotta stretch it out a bit first, like you’re going to make a balloon animal. Activates the latex…for her pleasure. Then you want to smell it to make sure it hasn’t turned. Don’t trust the expiration date. In my experience, it’s tougher to put it on if you’re crying, but somehow easier if she is.
Query: Why does my girlfriend ignore me?
I mean just last week, I get home from work and she’s blowing this guy on the couch. I said, loud enough for her to hear by the way, “Whew, what a day!” She didn’t even look up. How rude, right? Today I get back from Home Depot and she’s unconscious in a pile of cocaine and vomit. I know she saw me walk in because I was caught in her her dead, glassy-eyed stare as soon as I opened the door. Fucking women, right? Can’t live with ‘em, and they can’t pee standing up. Hey-O!
Query: Why can’t boys wear skirts?
They can and they’re called kilts. Know why that’s not gay? Because it’s Scottish. Guy in New York in a skirt? Gayness. Guy in the highlands in a scratchy sweater and a kilt? Bad ass. He probably just got done burying a body in a bog and he’s about to play 18 holes with WOODEN FUCKING CLUBS. Don’t like it? He’ll turn up a bottle of Glen Fiddich and then bash the remainder over your skull.
Query: Which duvet?
If I had a fucking nickel for every time I asked myself that question…I usually base my choice for bed coverings based on which will show body fluids the least. You don’t want a freshly-made futon ruined by the faint map of Hawaii creeping across the bottom corner.
