WHICH ITEM DOES NOT BELONG?
a. Tom Mix
b. Hopalong Cassidy
c. Roy Rogers
d. saddle
e. spurs
f. butte
g. stagecoach
h. Colt 45
i. Gene Autrey
j. ballet slippers
k. Stetson
l. The Ringo Kid
m. Gabby Hayes
n. stinking badges
A is for Brian, a very good student
B is for Karen, stung several times
C is for Juan, always agreeable
D is for Jamie, in Glasgow passed on
E is for Alice, afraid of mice
F is for Ken, a quite stupid fellow
G is for Timmy, who turned his horse right
H is for Melvin, whose field goal won fame
I is for Pascual, his vision is legend
J is for Kurt, an avid birdwatcher
K is for Doug, excellent pitcher, terrible hitter
L is for Annie, the Cockney sinner
M is for Phyllis, baker of cakes
N is for Bruno, typesetter of skill
O is for Corliss, accepts all explanations
P is for Melody, her bladder is small
Q is for Jumbo Alabama Jake, a hustler of note
R is for Gilles, the cruel French pirate
S is for Midori, she won the slalom
T is for Boris, samovar supplier
U is for me, from your point of view
V is for Hans, who has ways to make you talk
W is for Tish and Tosh, the two-headed sheep
X is for Edwina, passed out drunk
Y is for Alvin, inquisitive toddler
Z is for Rolph, asleep at the switch
The Bacon Dream
Rollo, the psychic pig, dreamt doom.
After the Battle
B. Tipton Stallworthy surveyed his domain with great satisfaction. He stood on the highest round roof turret of the keep and took in the view all around. Vast sky, distant mountains, nearby thickness of woods, each of these he examined in turn with a victor’s pride. A scuff of boot and a clearing of throat made him turn to the stairwell.
“Eminence,” growled the bowing toady.
“Yes, what is it?” asked B. Tipton Stallworthy.
“The bodies, Eminence. What is to be done with them?”
B. Tipton Stallworthy glanced down at the hillside strewn with the torn dead bodies of elves and princesses. He smiled and raised a tentacle to his brow eye.
“Eat what you can and leave the rest to rot. The smell will do us all good,” he said.
#
“No, I’m not kidding. For a lion, you’re one hell of a good dancer.”
The Brawl
The Theory of Natural Selection came at E = MC Squared with a long looping right while shouting, “Take it back, you cur!”
Sidestepping with the speed of light, E = MC Squared easily avoided the blow and snarled, “In your dreams, mutation!”
Fortunately, Ode on a Grecian Urn happened to be walking the beat and came upon the scene. Thrusting himself with authority between the two combatants, Ode on a Grecian Urn said, “I say, I say. Wot’s all this then?”
Held in the powerful grip of the poem, the quarreling theories subdued somewhat.
“He said my girlfriend was easy,” complained the Theory of Natural Selection.
“Not a polite thing to say, not polite at all,” said Ode on a Grecian Urn, turning his exquisitely metered gaze onto E = MC Squared.
“I didn’t mean easy like easy. I meant easy like not difficult,” was E = MC Squared’s explanation.
“I don’t see the sense of it,” commented Ode on a Grecian Urn.
“Well, have a look at her,” said E = MC Squared, nodding in the direction of the doorway to the pub. “See what I mean?”
Ode on a Grecian Urn had a look, was satisfied, and sent E = MC Squared off down the street while maintaining his grip on the Theory of Natural Selection. After E = MC Squared turned the corner, Ode on a Grecian Urn released the Theory of Natural Selection, gave him a friendly jab on the shoulder and some advise.
“You’d best be getting along now, and don’t be ready so quick to flare. ‘Twas a simple misunderstanding is all that it really was.”
2 + 2 = 4, demure in high heels, miniskirt, tube top, and with a skeleton key through her nose, stepped forward and linked arms with the Theory of Natural Selection.
“Thank you, officer,” she said in a small shy voice.
Ode on a Grecian Urn tapped his helmet with his nightstick and rocked back and forth, heel to toe, as he watched the couple disappear into the pub.
Moral: When theories collide, it’s sometimes prudent to take a poetry break.
#
Shakespeare Regrets Asking Drunken Friends in Alehouse for Suggestions
“To be or not to be, that’s about the size of it.”
“To be or not to be, whadda you gonna do?”
“Tuh beee … urr …. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”
“Play ‘Melancholy Baby’.”
“WHY ARE THERE NO WOLFMEN IN THE SENATE?” ASKED THE TROUBLED YOUTH BEFORE HE WAS LED AWAY.
The Laugh Track Guy Dictates to His Underling
“Skip enters, says ‘Hi.’ Put a (chuckle) there. Ellen responds with a surprised ‘Hi.’ Put a chuckle there, slightly amplified and drawn out. Skip says ‘Did you get the homework?’ Modest (chuckle) there. Ellen in disbelief ‘We had homework?’ (roar of laughter) Skip rolls his eyes. (laughter) Dad comes in. Insert (laughter with hoots and applause). Dad says ‘Is anybody going to help me?’ (prolonged applause with laughter and some ‘Awwwwww’s) Mom pokes head in door. (anticipatory chuckle) She shakes her head and withdraws. (standard roar of laughter) You got all that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s enough for now. Get out.”
A Coleridge Misfire Before the Opium Dream
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a really nice palace build
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5 of 5 stars to The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton goodreads.com/review/show/55…
