An Assortment of Nonsense

We drank so much that we accidentally tried to order a sandwich from the “Disclaimer” section of the menu.

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“He dances to the beat of his own dumb.”

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A review: this review is for those detractors who claim I use 43 words when 2 would suffice. Ladies and gentlemen: a dollar floating in a urinal.

Regardless of decorum, manners or common sense, “Yes,” I am the one who placed it there. It seemed like the most befitting exclamatory expression of my displeasure with the experience to which I was being subjected to.

It’s hard to argue with a dollar floating in the urinal. Or with the person who chooses it as the expression of one’s opinion. ๐Ÿ™‚

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The movie about the restaurant was good but not as good as the cookbook on which it was based.

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I knew he had ordered the Caesar Salad because I saw the prep cook repeatedly stabbing the romaine lettuce.

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I entered the Denny’s at about 5:05 a.m.

No hostess was in sight. As I peered around I noticed a sign indicating “Welcome. Seat yourself and make yourself at home. At Denny’s we’re all family”

I found a table near the bathroom and sat down, taking a few moments to make myself feel at home.

From nowhere came a deep, commanding voice: “Sir, you’re gonna need to put your pants back on!”

What a picky family I have at Denny’s.

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I invented a device to stay in the same time: the nonflux capacitor.

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As many of you know, I’ve spent years searching for the best, or any, great recipe for Turkey Gravy. I’m proud to announce that I’ve finally found the perfect one:
“Don’t.”

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I knew our choice of eateries was suspect when I noted that they only offered a list of Unappetizers.

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The food was not fresh – even the lettuce was unintentionally green.

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Someone I know approached me earlier.

He had his phone out and it was obvious he was about to do what he does best: be an ass.

“Not all your jokes are funny, X.” He sneered at me.

“Not everyone I know is smart or a good person either.” I raised my left eyebrow at him as I made eye contact, turned and left, leaving him with the epic struggle to figure out how I had just one-upped him.

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That place was too expensive and upscale for me. My credit was so bad I couldn’t even get pre-approval to buy a house salad.

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As my wife will attest, I’ve been diligent this year in reminding her of the yuletide season’s impending arrival. There’s no greater misstep than to wake up one morning in late December and discover that the Grinch has stolen your Christmas spirit. At our age, it’s difficult enough to remember to put on pants and comb our hair. (right, Darla?) Also, my wife Dawn is a Xmas Eve baby, as my mother-in-law Julia was personally attempting to recreate the nativity back in 1968 – a fact she doesn’t like to talk about. ๐Ÿ™‚

I spent some time this morning, inside, instead of carousing around the byways of my town, as the rain howled outside.

I made a picture I’ve titled “Weird Tokyo Xmas.”

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That guy was so unattractive that even the STD test didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

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“Don’t count your chickens,” begins the cliche. If you have so many chickens you’ve lost count, though, I bet it’s more important to count irate neighbors.

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PorcuPineSol: because sometimes when you are done cleaning you don’t want people to touch anything.

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I have a friend who is currently in Norway attempting to find the most consecutive consonants in a single word. Or on vacation. I’m not certain which.

Since he snapped a picture of one of the 4 “The Scream” pieces, I thought it only appropriate to commemorate the occasion by improving it, much like the Mona Lisa would be much hotter with a mustache.

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