1) Just as I was getting ready to perch upon my stove and inseminate a crown roast, the phone rang. It was your mother. This is not a therapy session.

2) I need to feel bad for myself. That’s what I’m going as for Saint Patrick’s Day. Me Feeling Bad For Myself. Introducing me to men with women’s names makes me feel bad for THEM. Get creative!  Like,  remind me I can only half-define “detente.”

3) When I was five, and people referred to my bowels, I began to think my intestines looked like the basement of the building I lived in. I pictured little work men in there maintaining my body like I was a giant robot…
…sometimes, when you’re alone, do you ever get womb envy?

4) Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Hello Starving Yenta Avenue.

5) The womb is metaphysical. The uterus is very physical. (See Eastern European scumbag boasting “I like to get lots of uterus.”)  They refer to the same thing but they are not the same thing. It’s like post-coital depression: you either get it or you  don’t.

6) “me and mussolini”

me and mussolini

sitting in a tree

talking detente and shit

won’t you be the tea cup on my coffee table

I want to see what it’s like

with a black girl

me and mussolini

Astrally projecting to Jupiter (‘s energy fields)

Wake up and smell the poor

I’m better than Chaucer

7) Construction man, do you DEstuct a woman’s self esteem when she walks by?

(five minutes of lesbians snoring and bongos)

Please make sure you cat call to everyone. Don’t haaaaate.

Elvis) is the Artist formerly mistaken as king. Chuck Berry is rolling in his bath of mint julups. Don’t haaaaate. I have the Elephant Man’s spirit in my cane.

9) Eggplant martinis did nothing for Val Kilmer’s hospitality. His house is walking on stilts, I am walking on sunshine, and the AIDS walk tomorrow is jokeularistically untouchable.

10) Time-released orgasms

11) Thrilled to Be Here: I am the living embodiment of Joy.

Thrilled to be Herd:  Shepherds peaked 1000 years ago.

Thrilled to be in Her: This joke would be obvious, IF you don’t know someone who knows someone in a fledgling band named “Her,” (like I actually do, though I understand no one reads these to learn anything new) who will go on to sell an album for every keystroke I struck while writing Stun Lists…. including deletes!

…One day, someone will indeed profit from the things I DIDN’T write. I am the Miles Davis of lying.

12) Besame mucho= kiss me a lot.

Butterfly kiss my ass. That means open and shut your eyes, close to my backside, so the eyelashes touch my ass.  In explaining the joke, I have failed to meet its expectation…

“Brevity is the soul of wit”  -Mom

“Butterfly kiss my clitoris on the way out.”- Shakespeare

Finding new ways to become invisible at Halloween “functions,”

Liquid Nitrogen Pellets “david” O’thoroughfare

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