It’s been a hoot, but this is goodbye …
Yes, it’s time for me to say goodbye, as this will be my last column. I’ve had a great time and I really hope that I brought a lot of smiles to you with my ramblings of conspiracy theories, killer robots and squirrel-on-a-stick. Thanks so much for all the wonderful emails over the years. Before I go, I still have a few more things on my mind.
Slowly, he makes his way out to the center of the stage of the “Short Attention-Span Theatre.” He taps on the microphone a few times in order to settle down the boisterous crowd. Then he begins to babble nonsensically . . . .
- Telekinesis typically requires about 45 amps.
- Even with all their newfangled technology, space aliens still use manual transmissions on their starships.
- Turtles are full of that Stretch Armstrong stuff.
- In case a Celine Dion concert accidentally breaks out, please use the stairs for your escape routes.
- If flies have any sort of religion, I’m sure it doesn’t involve reincarnation.
- Sometimes, having your nude body completely covered in condiments is embarrassing, but necessary.
- If Tom Cruise died and you attached electrodes to his legs, I bet some really cool stuff would happen.
- I think a really lousy job to have would be the brain vendor at a zombie nudist camp.
- Having a gun butt repeatedly smashed against the back of your head is an excellent cure for the hiccups.
- Globally, naked women account for 47 percent of all traffic accidents.
- An hour after playing Chinese checkers, I usually feel like playing again.
- I’ve secretly replaced this sentence with Folger’s Crystals. Let’s see if anyone notices.
- Sometimes it takes a village to raise an idiot.
- Archaeologists are able to date mummies, but seldom do they get past third base.
- How come nobody is named Milburn anymore?
- I went to a general store to buy a 12-pack of Coors Light, but they wouldn’t sell it to me because I was too specific.
- If you’ve never had déjà-vu then read this sentence again. It’s really trippy.
- The alter ego of my make-believe girlfriend uses imaginary money to pay for her air-guitar lessons.
- I had no idea that my water balloon was pregnant . . . until its water broke.
- I once dated a woman who had a wooden leg, but I broke it off . . . and yes, her name was Peg.
- You show me where Fidel Castro is going to be buried and I’ll show you a communist plot.
- When traveling through a wormhole, be sure to pack a sweater because those things can get pretty drafty.
- Blindly feeling around in the dark for the spring-loaded steel bear-trap that you set a few minutes ago is not a good idea.
- This sentence has been canceled, due to the graphic nature of its contents. Management has been notified. Sorry for any inconvenience.
- I’m thinking about buying a telescope . . . or at least I want to look into it, anyway.
- I once had what I thought was a complimentary beverage, but it never once mentioned my really nice haircut.
- If I ever need first aid, I’m a fairly patient person and usually wind up waiting for second or third aid. It’s not a big deal, really.
- There is no word for “bubble gum” in the prairie dogs language.
- In the future, after you order the upgrade, all your dreams will be in Hi-Def.
- I needed some new bar stools for my back deck, so I went to the furniture store where the guy showed me his stool samples . . . I took the brown ones.
- I went to the Antiques Road Show one day and brought my grandfather with me. His estimated value was $800, which was twice the amount that I paid for him.
- Many, many years before women were invented, the men would always wonder where the heck all the babies came from.
- Due to technical difficulties beyond our control, this sentence has been canceled. Please move ahead to the next one. Thank you.
- Conga lines at a leper colony can be messy.
- While you’re in that thatched hut, be careful where you point that acetylene torch.
- Finally, I do realize I have to be the protagonist of my own life story, but why does my character have to be such an idiot?
With that, he takes a bow, drops the microphone, and like that . . . he’s gone.
Reach C.W. Plunkett at email@example.com.