Hair

Joey stole William Shatner's hair piece yesterday. He’s thinking of selling it on eBay. Says he has bills to pay. #lamejoke

Chicken

Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in a vegan household.

Her parents were vegan activists who despised anyone who ate meat of any kind.

Each night at dinner they would tell their daughter about how bad meat tasted and how cruel the agriculture industry was when treating animals.

As the years go by, she started getting sick of eating the same old vegan products and wanted to experiment a bit but never had the guts to do anything.

One day, her friends invite her to go out for a day at the local shopping center.

They go around to window shop, having a great time.

Lunch time is coming and everyone is starving.

Her first friend goes up and orders a zinger box from KFC.

Her second friend orders chicken McNuggets from McDonalds.

Her third friend gets a Whopper burger from Burger King.

She, not wanting to really disappoint her parents, went and got a vegan salad for lunch.

As they were eating, all her friends were telling her how much they loved to eat chicken, sharing their various chicken meals with each other.

They kept on trying to get her to try some.

She eventually succumbed to peer pressure and tried one nugget.

The burst of flavor from the chicken rushes through her mouth.

"Why was it that only now she was discovering this realm of flavor?" she thought to herself.

It was love at first bite.

She wanted more.

She then tries a bite of her friend's Whopper burger.

It also blew her taste buds away.

This whole new avenue of flavors hitting her palate.

She was then handed one of the wings from her friend’s zinger box to try.

Even more flavors she had never tried before was hitting her tongue.

It was her night to cook dinner this week, so she decided she needed to get her parents to experience these flavors. not caring that it's not vegan.

Maybe, having a bit of meat to chew on, might make them a bit less grumpy.

She asks all her friends what the best way is to cook some chicken for dinner.

Her friends were delighted that she also loved chicken as they all did.

They took her to the library next to the shopping center and got some recipe books.

They showed her all these recipes.

Chicken parmigiana, chicken Kiev, chicken burgers, chicken kebabs, buffalo wings, nuggets, chicken Caesar salads, satay chicken and roast chicken.

She ended up choosing to make a Caesar salad since she has most of the ingredients back at home and could also sneak in some chicken without her parent realizing it's not a vegan meal

She just had to find the dressing and some chicken.

So, she goes back to the shops with her friends to get what she needed to cook dinner.

They all go to Walmart first.

They get the Caesar dressing there.

Next they go to the cold meats section.

They walk up and down the aisle but there’s no chicken left.

“Alright no drama, I’m sure there would be some at Target,” one of her friends says.

So, they buy the dressing and head to Target.

They walk to the cold meats section and walk up and down the aisle but there is also no chicken left there.

“It’s fine there should be some left at the butcher,” another friend says.

So, they go to the butcher.

They ask the butcher there if he has any chicken in stock.

“Sorry girls, we are out of chicken for the day,” the butcher responds.

“Ok I’m sure Aldi would have some chicken left, right?” the last friend says.

They all head to Aldi.

As they enter, they see the cold meats section.

There is so much chicken.

There's chicken breast, chicken thigh, chicken wings, chicken drumsticks, whole chickens, half chickens, roast chickens, minced chicken, sliced chicken, and chicken sausages.

Surprised the girl says out loud,

“Look at Aldi’s chickens!” #lamejoke

Rapper

The upside down rapper rapped in verse. #lamejoke

Racehorses

Once there were two racehorses named Ned and Fred. They were talking horses. Born in the same stables, they had grown up together since they were young foals. As colts, they would race around the big red barn, down the long track beside the road, and through the pastures, dreaming of becoming the greatest racehorses in the world. Soon enough, they were both great racehorses, however, Fred was always a bit faster than Ned.

Years would go by and race after race, Fred would clock in as just a bit faster than Ned. "I'm the greatest racehorse in all the land!" Fred would exclaim. Ned tried to pay no mind, but deep inside, it was eating at him. Ned knew he could be faster, but he didn't know how. He'd train for weeks but could never keep up with Fred. Just once he wanted the sweet taste of victory but could never keep up.

Finally, Ned asked his friend, "Look Fred, I know you're faster than me, but can you see it in your heart to let me win just one race?" Fred thought about it for a minute. He knew his friendship with Ned was more important than winning. “Of course, Ned. I'll tell you what, the next race is yours.” Ned was ecstatic.

When the announcement of the next race season came, it turned out that the first race would be the biggest race of the year. "I can't believe my luck!" said Ned. “I'm going to win the biggest race of the year.” Fred was stunned, but he was a horse of his word. Ned called his parents and all his friends on the farm and told them to be sure to tune into the upcoming biggest race of the year. They would be sure to enjoy it.

The day of the big race finally came, and the contestants were lined up in the starting gate. Some were huge powerful horses that neither Ned nor Fred had seen before. Horses had been trucked in from out of state for this big race. Ned wasn't worried. "This is going to be my greatest accomplishment." he said to his friend. Fred was silent. He knew that he had to let Ned win this race and he had resolved to let him.

BANG! The starter's pistol fired, and the gates swung open. Twelve racehorses sailed out of the gate. As usual, Fred was leading Ned by almost a full length by the first turn. Fred looked back and saw that he and Ned were well ahead of the pack. "I've got to do what I've got to do." thought Fred and he drifted back to let Ned take the lead.

Ned quickly closed the gap and by the back stretch he had taken the lead. "This is it!" he thought and poured all he could into the race. Approaching the third turn he'd developed an insurmountable lead. "Yes!" Ned shouted. "Now I'm the fastest racehorse in the world". He looked back and saw Fred, head down leading the rest of the pack. Ned began to show off a bit with his huge lead. He had the distance to spare. He sauntered a bit up the track and pranced into the last turn. Fred looked up and saw how Ned was making a fool of him and the other racehorses. "This isn't what I signed up for." he thought and took off like a shot toward the finish line. Ned was still trotting around the last turn when he looked back and saw Fred running him down, fast.

Ned took off down the home stretch, but Fred was too close for comfort and closing at incredible speed. The two horses rapidly approached the finish line and the judges were out of their seats to determine who would cross first. A blinding light appeared just as the horses crossed the finish line. It was a photo finish! Ned and Fred didn't say a word to each other while the picture was being developed. Everyone in attendance, the crowd in the stands, the other horses and especially Ned and Fred held their breath while the envelope slid down the line from the photo booth to the judges. The head judge stood up and announced, "The winner by a nose is...Fred!"

"Yes!" Fred said. I did it. I knew I was the fastest horse in the world. The reporters all crowded around Fred. He was given a horseshoe of roses to wear and posed for pictures for the papers and gave interviews to many sports reporters from around the country. Fred truly was the fastest horse in the land. As the crowd dissipated, Fred looked around for his friend. He wanted to talk to him about what happened during the race and apologize. He couldn’t see Ned anywhere.

Fred waited until the crowd and all the reporters had left and started to look for Ned to no avail. He checked the track and the starting gates but couldn't see Ned anywhere. He asked as the last of the vendors was packing up if they'd seen Ned at all and the vendor told him that she'd seen a sad looking horse walking out of the racetrack shortly after the picture of the finish was developed. "He looked incredibly solemn." she told him.

Fred left the track. He didn't know where to look. He looked all over town for Ned but came up empty. He went back to the stables where they were born, but Ned wasn't there. He looked at the big barn that they used to race around, but Ned wasn't there either. He looked at the long track beside the road and through the pastures but couldn't find Ned at all. "Ned!" he'd shout, with no response. All afternoon he'd walk through the countryside pleading for his best friend. Then, early in the evening, he saw a familiar figure standing out in the distance. Fred had been walking around all day, but he raced as fast as he could to see Ned, delirious and teetering at the edge of a cliff.

"I can't do this anymore" Ned was muttering to himself. Fred called out, "Ned, what's happening? This isn't the answer". Ned looked up as if in a trance then looked away. "You've always been better than me Fred. I'll never become the greatest racehorse in the land. I'm going to end it all."

"No!" cried Fred. You can have all my trophies. I'm going to retire from racing entirely. I can't lose my best friend." Ned was despondent. "No Fred, it doesn't matter. I’ll always know that you're the real fastest horse. There's nothing that I can do to beat you. There's nothing left for me to do but toss myself off this cliff and end it all. Goodbye friend." Back and forth Fred pleaded with Ned in a vain attempt to save his friend's life. Just then, an old dog passed by and said to Ned, "Look Mr. horse, I've seen a lot in my times and I'm not sure what it is you're going through, but I can tell you this, suicide isn't the answer. Come on down and talk to your friend some more."

Ned and Fred stopped both bewildered, and looked at each other, then Ned said, "How absurd, a talking dog." #lamejoke

Jack

There once was a man named Jack Masters. Jack was never the fastest, the strongest, or the smartest man in his humble town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. He got straight Ds in school, he was a little chubby, and, by most standards of measure, he was very much below average. His teachers used to joke that he would one day grow up to become the Jack of no trades, Masters of none. But don’t worry, that isn’t the punchline to the joke.

When Jack got out of school, it didn’t look like he had any prospects. He continued to live with his parents well into his twenties and he never made much of an effort to find himself a job. He did manage to find himself a job as a janitor at the local elementary school, but it didn’t pay much.

But that all changed one day when the fourth grade teacher - Miss Anne Thrope - realized her car had broken down in the school parking lot. And don’t worry, her name isn’t going to become a punchline later in this story. It’s just a silly name, she’s actually a very positive lady who loves her students and her students love her. But anyway, Miss Thrope was extremely upset because she had a romantic date lined up tonight. She popped open her hood, but she didn’t know what to do because she’s a school teacher and not an auto mechanic. Well, around that time, Jack just happened to walk by her car and saw how upset she was. She explained the situation to him, and even though Jack was just a janitor, he decided to peak inside the hood.

Now, Jack was no genius, but he tinkered with the car a little bit anyway. Amazingly, he found the problem, fixed it up, and told Miss Thrope to give it a try. Amazingly, the car ran more smoothly than it had ever run before. Anne was stunned. She thanked Jack profusely and offered to pay him, but he told her not to worry about it and to enjoy her date.

She told the rest of the faculty and staff about how Jack fixed her car, and they were impressed. And a few weeks later, the school had an accident where during a particularly cold night, all of the pipes burst. The entire school, remembering what Jack had done with Anne’s car, decided to see if he also knew how to fix plumbing. Sure enough, after taking a short look at the burst pipes, it just took a quick trip to the local Lowe’s and the plumbing was not only fixed, but it was working better than ever before. He even improved on things that weren’t broken - the sinks no longer clogged up, the faucets ran a lot smoother, and the toilets flushed a lot quicker.

Word spread around town about Jack and his amazing ability to fix anything. He was being hired for all sorts of work, from plumbing to auto repair to electrical work to professional painting to landscaping to home remodeling. Jack became the town’s most trusted handyman. In only a few years, Jack had transformed the entire town of Truth or Consequences into an unrecognizable modern paradise. The buildings were new and refurbished. The roads were newly paved and clean as a whistle. All of the city utilities well exceeded anything the townspeople had ever known before. Jack had single-handedly transformed the entire town that the local townspeople could be proud of.

But with his newfound fame and glory, Jack became arrogant and greedy. He began to overcharge the townspeople to do work for them. With so many beautiful women throwing themselves at him, it was not uncommon for him to have multiple girlfriends at a time and cheat on them - sometimes he would even sleep with married women. He became a raging alcoholic and gambling addict. And it wasn’t uncommon for Jack to steal valuables from the sites he would work on. Slowly, the town began to sour on Jack, but he was still the best in the business so despite his increasingly repulsive personality, the town still hired him.

One night, Jack was in a bar drinking and partying the night away when he laid eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. Her name isn’t important, but in a town with people named things like “Jack Masters” and “Miss Anne Thrope” I’m sure it was something silly. He knew right there and then that he had to win this enchanting young woman over. He confidently - and dare I say arrogantly - approached her and introduced himself. She was taken aback that she was in the presence of Jack Masters, the greatest handyman the town had ever seen. The two struck up a conversation, and before either of them knew it, they were in her bedroom making the most passionate love either of them had ever experienced.

But as fate would have it, this woman happened to be married to an especially jealous and angry man. The man had been away for a few weeks on business, but the trip ended early and he wanted to surprise his lovely wife, so he decided he would surprise her with an early birthday present. But when he burst into the room, expecting to see his wife, he got a little more than he bargained for. He saw his wife alright - and he saw the greatest handyman the town had ever seen, but this time doing a different kind of drilling, plowing and hammering, if you catch my drift. His wife tried to explain and calm the situation, but this man was so blind with rage that without thinking, he pulled a gun from the dresser drawer and put a bullet in Jack’s head.

Jack suddenly appeared on a cloud before a pair of pearly gates. Sitting at the desk beside the gates was a tall man in a white, flowing robe. He had a placard that read “St. Peter”.

This couldn’t be happening. Jack couldn’t be dead, could he?

St. Peter stood from his desk, clutching a file folder that read “JACK MASTERS” across the front.

“We’ll well well, Jack Masters,” he began. “I see some pretty nasty things in here. Adultery. Thievery. Substance abuse. And - oh my! You had an awful lot of pride, didn’t you Jack?”

Jack didn’t know what to say. He still didn’t want to admit to himself that he was dead.

“Pride, lust, greed… you know Jack, those are some pretty serious sins. Some might even call them ‘deadly’ sins. You know where we send the people who are guilty of the deadly sins, right?”

Before Jack could respond, St. Peter snapped his fingers and Jack’s vision went black. He stayed in the void for what felt like forever, but the first thing that started to come back to him was his sense of smell, and he smelled nothing but fire and brimstone. He then began to hear the screams of what sounded like thousands of tortured souls. As Jack opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of lakes of fire and the faces of humans twisted in pain and agony for all eternity.

Before Jack had time to process the horrific scene before him, a talk, dark, horned figure with wings approached him. The figure licked its lips and said, “Hello Jack, my name is Pazuzu, welcome to your new eternity in Hell”.

Jack was horrified - he knew he had done some bad things, but he didn’t think he was bad enough to end up in Hell. Pazuzu laughed maniacally, slapped some chains onto Jack’s wrists, and led him to his new eternal resting place.

They came to a small cell with a floor of molten lava and walls containing rows and rows of chainsaws slicing up and down, left and right. For all eternity, Jack would be both burned and dismembered.

But before Pazuzu could chain Jack up, Jack noticed one of the chainsaws wasn’t moving like the rest of them. He pointed it out to Pazuzu, and Pazuzu unceremoniously said that the chainsaw had been broken for a few thousand years.

Jack contemplated for a moment and then asked Pazuzu if he could look at what might be causing the problem. Perplexed, Pazuzu agreed. Within a few moments, Jack got the chainsaw moving and slicing better than ever before.

Pazuzu was blown away by how efficient and handy Jack was. Instead of chaining Jack up to begin his eternity in Hell, he decided to bring Jack around to look at some of the other problems in Hell. He fixed the blades that weren’t sharp enough. He fixed the chains that weren’t strong enough. He fixed the fire pits that weren’t hot enough. He fixed the electric chairs that weren’t electric enough. He fixed the body-stretching machines that didn’t body-stretch enough. In addition to all the improvements, Jack had set Hell up with a whole new power grid that ensured they would never have these problems again.

Pazuzu could not have been happier, so he decided to ask Jack if he could improve his infernal palace, as his palace was thousands of years old and really needed some TLC. Jack agreed, and Pazuzu showed Jack to his palace. Jack got to work and Pazuzu was excited to see what Jack would do. It didn’t take long before Pazuzu’s palace had been updated with beautiful, ornate golden walls with the most blindingly white pillars you’ve ever seen. There was a magnificent grand staircase, a kitchen with the finest marble countertops, and a master suits decorated with the most unique furs and art. Outside, Jack installed a large moat around the palace with coy fish, as well as a large yard with wildflowers, trees, a swimming pool, and a massive barbecue pit.

Pazuzu was so amazed that for the first time ever, he shed a tear at the sight of his new palace. For the first time ever, he felt himself soften up and not want to be so evil. Upon seeing Pazuzu’s new palace, the rest of the demons became jealous and wanted to hire Jack to remodel their own palaces.

Jack got to work, one by one, and transformed the palaces of all the demons into works of absolute beauty. He even branched his work out and created nice amusement parks and upscale subdivisions for the tortured souls. He built casinos for the greedy to always have money. He built brothels for the lustful to always have sex. He built stadiums for the prideful to always have attention. He built shopping malls for the envious to always have more stuff. He built all-you-can-eat buffets for the gluttonous to always have food. He built boxing arenas for the wrathful to always be able to beat each other to a bloody pulp. He built spas and lounges with robotic maids so the slothful would never have to lift a finger to do anything. Truly, Hell was becoming a paradise. His work became so famous that Satan himself had to come and see what Jack had been doing.

Satan stood in awe at the new palaces of his demons. He walked down the clean, happy streets of Hell and for the first time, all the souls who had been damned to an eternity there were suddenly happy to see him. They invited him to have dinner with their families at the delicious new steakhouse on Sinister Avenue.

Satan was impressed, but he needed to reassert his authority over the souls of Hell. He couldn’t have his demons - and especially not the souls that had come here for punishment - to be living more luxurious lives than he was. And so he approached Jack and told him that he demanded Jack build him the biggest, most beautiful palace in the universe - something that even God would be jealous of. If he could not fulfill this task, Satan warned that he would personally devour Jack’s soul.

Jack hesitated at the threat, but knew he had no choice. He had to give it his best shot. And so Jack requested that Satan would need to give him time for such a grand project. Satan agreed, and Jack got to work.

One week went by.

Then two weeks.

Then one month.

Then six months.

Then one year.

Then ten years.

Then one hundred years.

Satan was beginning to grow impatient. He wanted the greatest palace in the universe, but surely it wouldn’t take this long, right? Even the most beautiful palaces of his demons never took more than a few months at most. But Satan sat in wait, hoping that the end result would satisfy him.

Finally, after 666 years, Jack announced that he had finished Satan’s palace. Satan eagerly announced that there would be a grand unveiling in which he expected all the denizens of Hell to attend. Millions of souls gathered around, anxiously awaiting to see what Jack had been up to for all these centuries. Satan was excited, but admittedly nervous. If this palace did not meet his expectations, he would be humiliated in front of all the citizens of Hell and he would never be respected as the Prince of Darkness ever again.

When all the souls and demons of Hell were finally gathered, Satan spoke and announced the deal they had made so many years ago - Jack must build him a palace that even God would be jealous of, and if he fell short of this task, Satan would personally devour his soul.

The crowd held their breaths, knowing how much was on the line. The moment that could transform Hell forever was just a few short seconds away. Would Satan solidify his reign and would Jack be hailed as the greatest soul who had ever entered Hell, or would Satan be humiliated and would Jack be devoured?

Jack pulled the curtain.

It took a moment for everyone to process the fantastic structure that lay before them. A towering castle with spires that reached so high into the sky that they couldn’t see the tops. Ornate decorations featuring spectacular colors that had never been seen before. Amazing shapes that did not seem physically or geometrically possible. Towers built into hills and mountains that stretched far above the clouds. Beautiful lakes, rivers, and forests surrounding the palace, featuring plant and animal life that seemed otherworldly. Some of the structures were so ornate that it seemed as though Jack had engineered entirely new elements out of the void of space. Some in the crowd were driven mad by the sight, as though the beauty of this palace was too much for the human mind to bear. Even Satan himself did not expect Jack to be able to create something this magnificent - it had truly exceeded his wildest expectations.

The demons and the souls of Hell cheered for Jack, but Satan raised a hand, trying to keep the composure of the crowd. “Truly this is a magnificent palace that is fit for your infallible Prince of Darkness. I will be privileged and honored to rule as your Prince from this palace for all eternity. But let us not forget that the deal was the palace must be so beautiful that God himself would feel jealous of it. And so, before Jack’s fate is decided, we must await God’s reaction.”

Jack was relieved that Satan was so pleased with his work, but he remained on edge knowing that he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Would this really be a palace that God would be jealous of?

Meanwhile, the angels and even God himself had been watching the unveiling of Satan’s palace from their place in Heaven. When Jack dropped the curtain, the angels gasped at its brilliance. Even God’s palace paled in comparison to Satan’s new palace. Many angels gathered outside of God’s suddenly unremarkable palace, demanding to be sent to Hell so that they could witness Satan’s exceptional palace in person.

God was furious. He took out Jack’s file and looked it over. Upon reviewing it, he demanded to see St. Peter at once.

St. Peter came in anxiously, and God threw Jack’s file in his face.

“Explain to me right now why you sent this man to Hell!” God demanded.

“W-w-well my Lord,” St. Peter nervously stuttered out, “he was a liar, an adulterer, a thief, and he was utterly consumed by pride. The way he died was he was shot dead by a man after he was discovered sleeping with the man’s wife. Surely a man of such loose moral character should not be admitted to Heaven?”

God slammed his fist on his desk. “You fool! This man transformed a small town into a glorious modern gem! He improved the lives of countless people, and in fact he discovered his talents through an act of kindness - helping a woman fix her car. Of course he was not perfect, but the amount of good he did and the amount of people he helped so vastly outweighs the amount of bad he’s done. Your carelessness has sent this man’s soul to the wrong eternity, and now look at what’s happened!”

St. Peter felt ashamed in the presence of God. “Now bring me my phone and get Satan on the phone!” St. Peter obeyed and brought God his phone, with Satan already on the line.

“Hello? This is Satan.”

“Satan, this is God. It turns out there’s been a bit of a mix-up, we accidentally sent a soul down there that was supposed to come up here. We need to to send him up at once.”

“Oh? And which soul would that be?” Satan asked amusedly.

“That fellow Jack Masters. He actually did much more good than bad and St. Peter made a mistake.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that God, but unfortunately you’re not getting Jack. He’s mine.”

“Now you listen here Satan, that man’s soul belongs up here, and you are interfering in his eternity in Heaven.”

“Did you see the palace he built for me, God?”

God was silent for a moment. “Yes, it’s uhh… it’s okay I guess but this isn’t about that, this is about Jack’s immortal soul.”

Satan knew instantly how jealous God was. He looked over and smiled at Jack. Jack breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he was safe.

“Well sorry God, but I think Jack will be staying here with me. If you’re in the market for a new palace, maybe talk to Michelangelo or something.”

God was furious at Satan’s mocking tone. “Satan, I command you this instant - you are to send Jack Masters up here at once or so help me I will take you to court!”

“Take me to court!?” Satan exclaimed.

“That’s right, I will take you to court over the fate of Jack Masters’s immortal soul!”

Satan was quiet for a moment, and then he burst out laughing. He laughed and laughed harder than he had ever laughed before. God was furious at Satan’s disrespect and arrogance. “What’s so funny about this?” he demanded.

Satan pulled himself together. He stifled another laugh, took a deep breath, and finally managed to ask God…

“And where are you going to find a lawyer?” #lamejoke

Stew

When I was a kid, I lived in South Florida. It was hot and humid and it had near-daily thunderstorms. Sometimes these storms came so frequently and dumped rain so fiercely that our back yard would flood so that you could not even see the grass. My dad would always complain about drainage, as dads do. Shortly after such a flood, I could hear frog choruses. Neighborhood kids would meet out in the front yard to play with their water toys. The next day, the streets would be covered in baked earth worms. This was a way of life.

In South Florida, all along the highway, alligators hang out. They sit still as stone yawning at the sun.

Sometimes they would skitter back into a ditch when our car drove by. As a kid, I would count them whenever we went to the beach, to the airport, or to any place that was a good distance from the house. Once I counted 15! Kids told tales of alligators found wading in grandma's pool. We were pretty close to the Everglades.

I had this recurring dream. It's the only dream I remember having as a kid. I dreamt of the back yard flooding after a thunderstorm, and the back yard was swarming with alligators. This dream evolved as I grew up. We had a mut named Butch. I still have a photo of me and Butch, both in Christmas hats. I dreamt of Butch barking insistently and going outside only to get clamped, rolled, and devoured. I dreamt of my mom crying out for help from the back yard, and all I could do was watch as she was torn apart. I dreamt of waking from a nap to an empty house and a flooded back yard full of fat, satisfied alligators.

It got so bad I refused to play with friends in the puddles after the thunderstorms. I didn't even want to go out back in a light rain. One Saturday, my dad sat me down and asked me about it. When I finished, he nodded, said, "Come on," and loaded me up in the car. We went down to an alligator farm in the Everglades. I had never been before, but I did know some kids who went on airboat rides.

We learned all about alligators from a tour guide. He told me how alligators eat their young, which was pretty scary. But he also told me the reason they eat their young is because they're often too lazy to hunt. The prefer staying still. He told me why they're on the side of the road looking ready to snap at you. Just regulating body heat. I learned about the difference between crocodiles and alligators. Crocodiles are more aggressive. Alligators are more passive. Crocodiles have jaws that are meant for hunting, while alligators have shovel-shaped jaws for breaking turtle shells. In a way, if your dreams are going to be haunted by a giant lizard, an alligator is certainly preferable to a crocodile.

I saw him handle an alligator. He poked at it with a metal rod, and all it did was sidle away and groan. My dad and I ordered some alligator stew and ate it together outside at a picnic table. I didn't want to try it but my dad insisted. He said, "Come on, little predator. Show those gators you're not afraid!" So I took a bite, and it was one of the most delicious things I had ever tasted! More tender than beef, more savory than chicken. My only frame of reference was beef and chicken. I asked if we could take some home and make alligator stew ourselves. My dad said, "I'm glad you're feeling better about this, buddy, but all we have is a crock pot."

Knees

So, there's this duck. His name is Gef (Pronounced Jeff. The spelling actually comes from Gef's Welsh ancestors, who were widely known in the UK for being the finest net-makers in the land. Their nets were so legendary that kings and princes and lords bought the Wshlgrrrmanxxs family's nets for their great eel hunts. The eel hunt of 1473, better known as The Gravy Incident, is an especially fine tale that shows the elasticity and frankly astounding amount of tensile strength that the Wshlgrrrmanxxs's were capable of crafting into their nets. After this incident, all nets in the UK were required to meet the exacting standards of Mr. Wshlgrrmanxxs, who developed his net-weaving technique over decades spent braiding the hair of noble girls in many a public tavern. Mr. Wshlgrrmanxxs was known for his nets and his patented seventeen-strand Queen's Knot Braid, is the point of this aside.).

Gef is a regular looking duck. He has a white body, orange feet, and an orange beak. Except for this one little black spot on his left foot. Gef has always been self-conscious about that black spot, as he feels it makes him stand out too much from other ducks. Gef often goes out of his way to stand or sit in such a way that the tiny black birth mark is hidden from the view of other ducks.

Gef lives in a modest apartment, a handsome two bedroom with an open floor plan and hardwood floors throughout. Gef's girlfriend Blaire lives with him. She moved in about a year ago and things are getting rocky in the relationship as Gef feels she might be using him for his money. Gef's mother died five years back and left him a sizeable inheritance which he has in turn invested wisely and Gef is currently living comfortably off of the interest in his trading accounts.

So, one day, Gef goes into Best Buy and he's just kinda walking around, checking out the new release Blu-Rays. Gef is really into Bulgarian arthouse films. It's a fascinating genre whose films mostly consist of long, lingering shots of women's knees as they sit on a bus. The runtime of the most popular examples of Bulgarian arthouse cinema often top six hours. It's a challenging genre that requires true dedication and love of the cinematic arts. Gef is a bit of a cinephile, is the point, I guess.

Gef's walking around and he sees an employee with a nametag that reads: Jim. Gef walks up to Jim and awkwardly shuffles around, trying not to present the black spot on his left foot to Jim. Jim finally looks down and notices this rather ordinary looking duck with the white body and orange feet and orange beak standing there.

"Can I help you?"

Gef looks up and cocks his head to one side before answering, "Got any grapes?"

Jim looks confused for a few moments, begins to answer one thing, stops, and finally goes with the simplest answer he can think of, "Uh, dude, this is a Best Buy, we don't have grapes. Sorry?"

Gef just nods his head, as ducks do, and says, "Cool cool. Thanks, anyway." and turns around to go look for Der Schulringerzingers's Knees IV : Glorpinschotpper's Revenge. He already had a copy of the award-winning film on DVD, but what he really wanted was a Blu-Ray copy with the 8 minutes of additional footage added by the director. Gef had already checked Amazon, and it was sold out everywhere, so he figured Best Buy would be the most logical next place to find a very well-known Bulgarian arthouse film.

After not finding his film, Gef decided to head home. Blaire was mad because she didn't believe Gef that the store was out of grapes. Gef just wanted to drink a pale ale and read his great-grandfather's memoir a little bit before heading to bed. Gef's favorite pale ale is this really smooth micro-brew called Schlammin Salmon. Schlammin Salmon is brewed and bottled in Kiev, Wisconsin by a group of Quakers that rejected traditional Quaker life as being "too wild". Great group of guys.

So a couple of days later, Gef's back at Best Buy, hoping to find Der Schulringerzingers's Knees IV : Glorpinschotpper's Revenge, even if it's just a regular Blu-Ray without the extra 8 minutes of footage added by the director.

Gef sees Jim and heads that way. Jim looks down as Gef shuffles around, hiding the tiny black spot on his otherwise gloriously flawless orange foot.

"Hey, you're that duck from the other day, right?"

"Yeah, man. Thanks for remembering me."

"Anything I can help you with?"

Gef shuffles his (mostly) orange feet, "Got any grapes?"

Jim was a little annoyed at this weird duck with the flawless orange feet that kept coming into HIS place of employment and harassing him about grapes. Jim had been deathly afraid of grapes since he was four years old and what his mom calls "The Fruit That Shall Not Be Named Incident of 1984". The Incident began a 27-year long crusade by Jim to avoid being around the fearsome fruit. So he was more than a little annoyed as he answered, "Listen, man, I already told you we don't have grapes here. I'm getting a little tired of you coming in here and harassing me. If you come back here one more time asking about grapes, I'm gonna staple your beak shut!"

Gef shuffled back a few steps, making sure to keep the black spot out of sight, "Alright, alright, no problem, man. You don't have grapes, I get it." Gef shakes his head in that way ducks do and walks out of Best Buy, grapeless.

Gef got home and Blaire yelled at him some more about the grapes. Gef put on a film and fell asleep to the shockingly bold camera angles and masterful lighting techniques of famed Bulgarian auteur Terrniglobingham. Terrniglobingham's films were often described by even fans of the genre as "challenging", with their well over 8 hour runtimes and unmoving shots of decaying dogs on hot freshly poured blacktop.

So a few days go by and Gef finds himself back in Best Buy. He sees Jim and waddles over, shuffling about as he stops to hide his left foot behind his right. Jim looks down and sees the perfectly ordinary duck with the flawless orange feet and he's kinda happy to see Gef, since Jim has been having problems with his aging mother who is in the early stages of dementia and isn't able to properly care for herself any more. Jim looks down at this gorgeous little duck with the flawless orange webbed feet and he smiles just a little, like people do, and Jim says, "Hey man, good to see you again. What can I help you with?"

Gef glances down quickly to make sure his tiny black birthmark is hidden from Jim's view, then looks up to meet Jim's grey-eyed gaze. The grey eyes were a fascinating genetic leftover sort-of-hand-me-down type situation. See, Jim's great-grandfather, Colonel Richard Tipp, of the North Carolina Tipps (NOT the South Carolina Tipps, which were mountain men of some fearsome regard. The South Carolina Tipps were known to set bear traps along popular trade routes, picking through their crop of entrapped travelers to find the most likely wives), was of Transylvanian descent; Transylvanians, of course, are known for having the extremely rare DDNC420 gene that when expressed gives the clear grey eye color that I've been trying to describe to you for a while now.

Gef says, "Got any staples?"

Jim is relieved the question wasn't about the Fruit That Shall Not Be Named, "I think we might by the printers and stuff. Stay right here, I'll go take a look."

Jim heads off to find the staples and Gef contents himself with looking at a DVD copy of Herr Blumingsclongers ode to dislocated kneecaps Scpliegeneneneneflaurburg's Flowers, which was shot in 1972 by a half-blind Dutchman who had immigrated to Bulgaria during the second world war to escape persecution in his home country by a group of rival filmmakers who had decided that knees were not an aesthetically pleasing enough body part for study on film, instead demanding that shins become the new genre standard.

Jim comes back in a couple of minutes and stops in front of Gef, who shuffles around a bit to hide the tiny black mark on his otherwise flawless orange webbed foot.

"Sorry, man, we are completely out of staples."

Gef nods in that way that ducks do and cocks his head to one side, "Got any grapes?" #lamejoke

Ghost

WARNING! TODAY'S JOKE IS FOR ADULTS ONLY! IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED, DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING JOKE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Once, when I was travelling in the deep south of the USA, I decided to try and understand the culture there.

I was invited by one of my co-workers to attend an evangelical preachers' event, where I could see something that was really “out there”

We went along to a large stadium that seated around 40,000 people. The event was full and everyone was quite excited to be there. The atmosphere was electric. Upon entering I was amazed at the setup, there were lights everywhere , the sound was loud , the crowd was pumped and it was more like a rock concert than going to a church function. In order to get the crowd to a fever pitch there were bands on before the preachers and there was even a very famous pop singer came on to do a song.

The first preacher then came on , he started with a bang. Literally there were fireworks and pyrotechnics. This was some event!

He started preaching in his best preachers voice, “Is everyone having a good time tonight” he shouted.

The crowd loved it and cheered back.

“I'm here to talk to you TONIGHT about the afterlife”

The crowd cheers again.

“I travel from the EAST to the WEST , all over this wide land talking about connecting people with the other side. I ask the PEOPLE about their connection with the other side!”

The crowd hangs on every word , and people are quite overcome with the emotion of the situation. There are people yelling out things like “Praise Be!”

“I ask the people when I travel around , and I ask them “Have you EVER... EVER.... seen a GHOST?””

Lights go on , wild music starts playing and the crowd goes wild. The spotlights pick out people in the crowd that have put their hands up. People near those with their hands in the air are pounding them on the back and pointing them out to others near them. About 20 percent of the crowd have seen a ghost.

“That's amazing” the preacher yells. “Praise those blessed people , and praise the afterlife”

The crowd is lapping the whole thing up without exception. They are all on their feet chanting and stamping their feet. The sound stops and the lights go down again.

“ I travel from the EAST to the WEST , all over this wide land and I ask the PEOPLE questions” The preacher has the people in the palm of his hand. “ I ask the PEOPLE.. Have you EVER... EVER..... TOUCHED a ghost?”

The lights remain low.

The crowd goes silent.

Some of the people in the crowd raise their hand. Around 500 people have touched a ghost.

The lights pick up the people with their hands up. The music starts up again. The crowd loses..its...mind.

“GIVE THOSE PEOPLE A CHEER” the preacher yells. Sweat pours off his face. He runs frantically around the stage.

The people with their hands up stand up.. everyone is cheering. The music is blaring.

“Now... everyone quiet down now”

The music again stops. The lights dim. The crowds sits down expectantly awaiting the next revelation.

The preacher begins again in hushed tones.

“I travel from the EAST to the WEST, from the NORTH to the SOUTH , all over this wide land. I have NEVER , EVER heard an affirmative to this question”

The crowd is hushed, what could it be?

“Has anyone, out there, tonight, who has ever, ever, FUCKED A GHOST?”

The crowd is amazed.

Everyone is silent, there is not a movement in the whole stadium. The preacher has his hand shielding his eyes , searching the crowd. The ushers in the crowd are scanning everyone in their area. The crowd are craning their neck looking around.

Then – one person – way in the back of the crowd puts his hand tentative in the air.

His neighbors, unbelieving nudge each other. Could it be true? They elbow him and encourage him to lift his hand up.

Other people in the area look around. Someone starts clapping. The usher looks over, sees the guy and excitedly raises his hand up to signal he has seen something.

One single spotlight swings around over the crowd. It picks the solitary man up and more people turn around. More people start clapping. The guy gets more confident, raising his hand as high as it will go.

The preacher notices the excitement way in the back of the arena , his eyes go wide in disbelief. He stumbles over to the edge of the stage and looks out.

“Can this be true?” The preacher says in amazement.

More lights swing over to the solitary man in the crowd. He is now lit up and the whole section is clapping and cheering for him. People are slapping him on the back. His eyes are wild with pride.

“ITS A MIRACLE” The preacher screams.

The lights all go on. The music blares at top volume.

“COME ON DOWN” the preacher yells , motioning with both his arms flailing the man should come down to the stage. The man stands up tentatively, but with the cheers of the crowd gathers confidence as he slowly works his way to the aisle. He gets to the aisle and starts walking down. “GIVE THAT GUY AN HALLELUJAH” The preacher screeches.

The entire crowd screams out. The man is boosted again and starts jogging down. The preacher is jumping wildly on the stage.

The man, increasing in confidence with every step starts pumping his fist in the air as he is running down to the stage.

The crowd is jumping up and down in unison. People are crying and weeping. Old ladies are fainting. Men are foaming at the mouth and speaking in tongues. Its a frenzy of activity.

The man reaches the stage. Pyrotechnics explode while balloons are dropping from the roof. The balloons catch fire and land on the crowd. No one minds as they are so enthralled by the display. A dance team comes up behind the preacher followed by a full choir.

The choir sings at the top of their voices.

People lift the man up on their shoulders and carry him to the stage.

“HALLELUJAH AND PRAISE BE” the preacher pants. Both him and the man are out of breath.

The music drops and the crowd goes into a hushed silence

“Now tell everyone – out there , how you fucked a ghost”

The man looks confused, looks over to the preacher and says,

“Ghost? I thought you said goat!” #lamejoke

Butcher

There was once an anthropologist named Dave who frequently boasted that he had seen every native ritual of every tribe in the world. He had seen the death rituals of the Zulu, the birth rituals, of the Watusi, and every ritual in between. He had even, making strategic use of camera drones, recorder a coming-of-age ritual of the infamous North Sentinelese.

One day, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Dave was boasting of his many adventures over his favorite drink, when he noticed a teenage boy staring at him. "Hey, mister," said the boy. "I bet you never seen the Butcher Dance."

Dave was confused. He thought he knew every ritual created by humans, but he had never heard of the Butcher Dance. "What's the Butcher Dance?" he asked.

"I show you tomorrow, but it cost lotta money."

"Well, I've got five hundred U.S. dollars. Will that cover it?"

The boy grinned. "You got a deal, mister!"

The next morning, Dave and the boy set out on their journey. Into the rainforest, through a secret mountain pass, down a winding river, to a place Dave had never seen. Beautiful flowers blossomed there, flowers that existed nowhere else on earth. Dave was the most excited he had ever been in his life! As they dragged the raft onto the shore of the river, Dave saw a group of natives. "You wait here," said the boy. "I talk to the chief."

Dave waited by the raft as the boy talked to a large man wearing an elaborate headdress. The language seemed to consist of whistles, clicks, and small burping sounds. The boy returned to Dave, looking despondent. "Sorry, mister," he said. "They did the Butcher Dance last night. Won't do it again for five years."

"But I've come all this way," said Dave. "Can't they do it again?"

"Shhhh! You no let them hear you ask," said the boy. "Very bad juju to do the Butcher Dance twice in five years. Make the spirits angry!"

And so there was nothing for it. Despondent and miserable, Dave left with the boy and returned to town. Promising to return in five years' time, Dave went back to the States. He did the lecture circuit, telling eager young anthropologists of everything he had seen, but all he kept thinking about was the Butcher Dance. It consumed his every waking moment, but there was no information available anywhere about it. None of his colleagues had even heard of it.

Finally, five years almost to the day from the time he had first heard of the Butcher Dance, the time arrived. Dave gathered notebooks, cameras, and audio recorders in a waterproof backpack, and flew to the Congo. He found the bar, and sure enough, the boy, now a man, was waiting for him. "You ready to see the Butcher Dance?" he asked, grinning.

"I feel like I've been waiting my whole life," said Dave.

And so they set off. Into the rainforest, through the secret mountain pass, and down the winding river. As they dragged the raft to shore, the chief spoke to the young man. Dave waited patiently, his heart in his throat. Grinning from ear to ear, his young guide exclaimed, "We made it! They do the Butcher Dance tonight!"

Feeling like a little boy again, Dave excitedly got his equipment set up, and sat in the village to wait. One of the locals brought him a meal of berries and leaves he couldn't identify. Finally, sunset! Dave felt like he was going to burst from excitement. As the moon rose, all the villagers gathered around the fire pit, each holding one piece of firewood. They stacked it carefully, and the chief poured a strange liquid on it. Rubbing two sticks together, the chief created a spark, and the whole stack of wood was engulfed in flames. The villagers gathered around. Dave checked his cameras to make sure they were recording. Someone started playing a bongo drum, and all the villagers extended their left arms toward the fire as the chief began to sing, in perfect English:

"You Butcher left arm in, you Butcher left arm out..." #lamejoke

Contest

I’ve won first place in this Halloween costume contest 16 years in a row. This year, I am dressed as a hot dog. I'm on a roll. #lamejoke

Night

I remember when Halloween was the scariest night of the year. Now, it's Election night. #lamejoke?

Bouncer

A bouncer is working on a Saturday night at a popular nightclub for household utensils...

One of the regulars, a mirror, comes outside for a smoke and greets him.

As they make small talk, a toilet approaches flaunting a pristine gold plated lid. The bouncer immediately lets him in.

The mirror rolls his eyes as the toilet pushes through.

Next, a limo pulls up and a washing machine steps out adorned in shining jewelry.

She heads towards the door and the bouncer lets her in without question.

The mirror scoffs and stares in utter contempt as the washing machine enters.

A short time later, a dingy looking sink trudges towards the door. He looked worn out and had a large crack down the front of his bowl.

The bouncer stops him and says, 'Not tonight buddy'.

The sink pleads to be let in but the bouncer scolds him for not even attempting to follow the dress code and again refuses entry.

Dejected, the sink steps away unsure of what to do with his night now.

The mirror takes a pull on his cigarette, turns to the bouncer and says 'You need to take a long, hard look at yourself'.

'What do you mean?' replies the bouncer, taken aback.

'That toilet you let in? He's a big shot lawyer at a multinational corporation. Made his fortune shitting all over the little guy and only looking out for #1.'

The mirror continued;

'The washing machine? She launders money for the cartel!'

The bouncer shuffles uncomfortably.

The mirror takes another drag of his cigarette.

'But whatever, I don't even mind that you let those guys in. My gripe is about the guy you left out' said the mirror.

'Hey, what do you want me to do about that?' Defended the bouncer. 'He was a mess!'

'That mess', the mirror imitated in a sarcastic tone

'Served 10 years active duty in the army. Got that crack taking a bullet for you and your country, now needs to collect disability to survive, and you just turned him away like he was nothing'

'You let in those horrible people who make yours and everybody else's lives worse, but turned away the one guy who gave everything he had for the greater good'

The bouncer felt a huge pang of guilt.

The mirror threw his cigarette to the ground, gave the bouncer and stern gaze and said 'Let that sink in' #lamejoke

Cher

A new casino is opening in Las Vegas and Cher is the headline act. In the barely-finished auditorium, the entertainment director has lined up over 20 Cher impersonators, all dressed in different costumes from Cher's long music and acting career.

"OK," says the director, "When the curtain goes UP, I want you all to walk forward AS ONE, keeping in mind that the *real* Cher will be walking in front of you & starting her act with 'If I Could Turn Back Time'. Then you simply peel off to the sides and you're done. And ACTION!"

And OF COURSE the Cher impersonator who's dressed in nothing but duct tape and fishnets takes that as their cue to be a bit special, so they add a bit of a strut to their walk & the director is immediately incensed. "CUT! Back to positions!! SOMEONE has to learn to WALK!"

They start again, only THIS time the director calls "CUT!" and has a MASSIVE rant at the 'Moonstruck' version of Cher, who's been holding her arms up in the air and raising one leg FAR too high with EVERY step in an attempt to emulate the famous movie poster.

They start AGAIN.

THIS time, it's the 'hippy' version of Cher that catches his eye.

"CUT!!!!! Listen, you are DRESSED as a hippy, we can all SEE you're a hippy, you do NOT need to throw peace signs all over the place, just WALK NORMALLY!!"

Everyone goes back to their positions. They start AGAIN.

THIS time, the impersonator dressed in the black sequined number Cher wore to the 1988 Academy Awards brings a replica Oscar out of nowhere and holds it aloft victoriously. The director is BESIDE himself, marches up on stage, snatches the statuette, and throws it against a wall.

The statuette is ceramic and smashes into a million pieces and some of the Cher impersonators start crying. The director LOSES it.

"NO!" he screams, "You have to CHER, and CHER ALIKE!" #lamejoke

Forest

There was an old man who lived by a forest. As he grew older and older, he started losing his hair, until one day, on his deathbed, he was completely bald. That day, he called his children to a meeting...

He said, "Look at my hair. It used to be so magnificent, but it's completely gone now. My hair can't be saved. But look outside at the forest. It's such a lovely forest with so many trees, but sooner or later they'll all be cut down and this forest will look as bald as my hair."

"What I want you to do..." the man continued. "Is, every time a tree is cut down or dies, plant a new one in my memory. Tell your descendants to do the same. It shall be our family's duty to keep this forest strong."

And so they did.

Each time the forest lost a tree, the children replanted one, and so did their children, and their children after them.

And for centuries, the forest remained as lush and pretty as it once was, all because of one man and his re-seeding heirline. #lamejoke

Cheese

Fred was a hard-working artisan who had tried producing many different styles of cheese. Most of these ended in failure. He started with brie, but the result was too breezy.. His Swiss was unholy and his cheddar was very dull. Even his processed American Cheese Product was altogether too real.

At last it came to him that his problem was a matter of proper timing. His most successful effort worked when the cheese became finished on the last day of October. Thus, fortuitously, he created the perfect Halloween muenster. #lamejoke