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Dear TV Programmers - give women’s beach volleyball its own channel. Some naysayers will scoff at the idea but we’ll make the girls read a poem about feminism after each match - that’ll win those intellectual-types over.

Someone tell bees that I’m not a flower. They swarm me like I’m somehow going to add to their stupid honey collection. I guess I should stop coating myself each morning in a thick layer of pollen but it does wonders for my pores!

Bears and humans may disagree on a lot of things but honey isn’t one of them.

The Internet is great but not because of its ability to bridge great distances and create an endless flow of communication. The Internet is great because when I absolutely needed to hear the original American Gladiators theme song - I heard that shit after 0.14 seconds of googling.

Nitro! Blaze! Titan! Internet!

Sexual fetishes baffle me. What’s so great about having your balls stomped on by a prostitute in high heels? And why do girls get bent out of shape when I mention my sexual fetish – a midget dressed as a toddler that’s potty training. What’s the big deal, ladies!?

“Check out that chick’s ass!” is a more commonly spoken phrase than “Check out that old man’s ass!” The exception being when an old man’s ass is covered in birthday cake and poo.

Parrots solve a lot of puzzles to get their hidden food. Humans have to solve crazy puzzles to cook dinner so we’re like the kings of parrots. For years the parrots were the kings of humans because of their ability for flight but now we’ve got airplanes, parrots, so fuck you.

Shoes normally die of old age but stepping in dog poo is definitely a shoe heart attack.

Some complain we live in an overly-cautious society but it’s a good thing new hotels have sprinkler systems in the bathroom or I never would have put out that toilet fire.

Bad things are funny in sandwich form. Turd sandwich, Racist sandwich, Hitler sandwich.

The Hitler sandwich is brussel sprouts and motor oil inside two slices of baby.

People with tumors have the ultimate excuse. Sorry I forgot your birthday, y’know…tumor. Sorry I forgot my tumor-removal appointment, y’know…tumor.

If mustache rides are five cents how much for a beard ride? Does it depend on the length or cut of the beard? How much for a Lincoln? I’ll give you twenty bucks for a ZZ Top!

So many things are made of wood - I’m surprised there’s no wood food or beverage. You know people have spent their lives trying. “I’ll make a delicious pine tree casserole someday. You’ll see! You all see!”

I literally have no idea what to say to anyone. A typical conversation goes something like this - Person: “Hey, what’s up?” Me: “Good!”

Sometimes a strange observation can invoke your inner child. Recently, I saw a fat kid poking a dead crow with a plastic light saber. I said, “Yeah, get him!” and he looked at me and smiled. Lesson learned – fat kid poking dead animal is heart-warming.

I wish I was a big black guy so I can sleep with white chicks instead of being a little white guy who can sleep with no chicks.

Eskimos waste all their time building igloos and spearing whales when all they need to do to have fun is move the hell out of the tundra. I’d call the Eskimos and explain this to them but I don’t have a phone made of snowballs.

I remember the night I saw that future car with the canary wings. I also remember earlier that morning when I ate those mushrooms.

Tree heaven is the bottom of a waterfall. After hundreds of years being deeply rooted in the Earth, there’s no greater death than tumbling off a cliff and landing at the bottom of one. Sure, you’re a dead tree, but, man…waterfall!

There are some hobbies I’m glad I never picked up. Like reading. I don’t know how people find time to read in-between sleep and napping.

Sometimes a personal triumph is a tragedy in disguise. Recently, I was so proud of myself for buying fruit for the first time until I realized how sad it was that I’d never bought fruit before.

It’s almost worth the disgusting smell that results from working in a kitchen for that amazing clean feeling after taking a shower. I imagine it’s like cleaning your vagina after having a baby. Okay, I don’t know why I immediately thought of that.

Girl math. Skirt plus bike equals yay!

A smoke break during work is the perfect time to contemplate important things about one’s self. Like, when does a job become a career, will I ever find true love and why have I never seen a retarded black person?

I can’t wait to get hit by a bus and become a paraplegic so each day becomes videogames and pudding time.

Ultimately, I’m paranoid of getting hit by a bus but not because I’m afraid of dying. I’m scared of surviving, having to go to the hospital, pay medical bills, and god forbid lose a limb or something. Death is scary…but inconvenience is terrifying.

Paranoia can often be misplaced. Lately, I haven’t been scanning my rewards card at the supermarket because I think the government is monitoring my spending habits. The CIA is gonna know I love Mountain Dew!

When bachelor life gets a bit mundane it’s important to spice things up. The other night I washed the dishes with sunglasses on and it totally kicked ass – until I woke up the next day and the dishes were dirty.

I learn a lot about different cultures from watching TV – for example, Asian women love reporting the news and Asian men don’t exist.

When you go to heaven and you see your grandparents are they still old or are they young? I figure I might have sex with my hot young grandma and that’s no heaven I want to spend eternity. Or is it?

My new way to find out if a girl is single or not is to ask her, “So what’re you doing tomorrow – hiking with your stupid boyfriend?” I’ll find out if she’s single and all I have to do from there is dig myself out of the douchebag ditch I dug.

It’s been reported that Ed McMahon is over $700,000 in debt – but there’s good news, he just received a letter from Publisher’s Clearing House and he might be a winner!

Sometimes you need a bag for your bags. Sometimes you need a box for your boxes. Sometime you need a hat for your hats but only if you’re some kind of two-hatted, looney asshole.

Too bad fat people aren’t actually ball-shaped because rolling them around would be so much fun.

Here’s an example of when I drunkenly write down a joke and discover it in the morning – “I really want to get a tattoo of a monkey biting a dog where the dog says ‘Doggone it!’ and the monkey says, “That’s monkey business for ya!” I have no idea what that means.

It’s sad when you realize how low you’ve set your life expectations. The other night I had an elaborate dream in which I complained about the small nacho portions at a local sports bar. Tomorrow night I’m shooting for a dream about napping.

Have you ever eaten so much that you feel like a pig? It must be the animal inside us. Thanks, Tapeworm!

“Wrong number” phone calls are the worst. Yesterday, a guy called my cellphone claiming I had his phone. I briefly questioned whether it really was his phone, maybe I’ve had this guy’s phone the whole time, perhaps none of us truly own our phones but are just borrowing them from each other – then I remember I wasn’t high and told the guy to go die.

Like grandma always says, “without the ‘s’ a scumbag ain’t nothin’ but a cumbag.”

I hate being forced to bite my tongue when I think of a brilliant retort. Like, when a co-worker explained his interest in a hip hop artist named, “Black Star,” and I wanted to tell him that was coincidentally the same nickname I use to refer to his mother’s asshole but instead I continued chopping celery.

You can’t spell “Earth” without “art”. Also, you can’t spell “Julius Bloop” without “sbloo!”

People always say they tried to learn guitar but didn’t have the patience for it. Just once, I’d like to hear someone say they quit because their puppy was brutally dismembered in a freak guitar accident at a guitar store in Guitarland in which Mayor Guitario summoned the Four Guitarman of the guitarocalypse to shred every note off that puppy’s guitar-hating face until the townspeople of Flying-V City learned that no one fucks with the guitar-fearing citizens whom populate the Guitarolopian Empire. Just once!

If sluts have pee that burns does that mean that nuns have pee that’s frozen?

Why doesn’t shampoo have a protective seal over it like food? Criminals might poison my bottle of Suave and send me to an early grave. Just because most people don’t eat shampoo doesn’t mean that some of us don’t need a drop or two for some added tongue volume and shine!

I want to start being more pretentious so I’m going to judge things based solely on their “intellectual value”. That painting has no intellectual value, this song has no intellectual value; your stupid, turd face has no intellectual value.

Birds and humans just can’t get their act together. I’ll be politely observing a pretty bird while waiting for the bus and just as it gets close enough for me to pet, it flies away and lands on top of some giant building I can’t possible reach. What the fuck, birds?

Today I saw a hobo doing laps up and down the sidewalk. He was probably just trying to find the ghost that stole his huckleberries but I like to think he was training for the Hobo Games.

Brushing your teeth with a gross-tasting toothbrush is an exercise in futility. Just accept the crappy taste in your mouth or do what I do and buy a toothbrush toothbrush.

Trimming your hair in the mirror is really hard. No matter how many times you’ve done it, you inevitably wave the scissors around like a fool, praying you don’t cut off an ear. If I trimmed my pubes in the mirror I surely would have chopped off several of my penises by now.

If the past form of stink is stunk then is the past form of blink…blunk?

It’s impossible to know in a new relationship when you can comfortably make a joke about having sex with someone’s mother. I found out from a couple of co-workers recently that we just aren’t there yet. Or maybe it was just the fact that I likened a deflated basketball to the state of my testicles after ejaculating on their mom’s faces. Next time, I start out slower.

It’s weird how guarded we speak when not amongst friends. Recently, I overheard a couple discussing how traffic was the worst thing in the world and I really wanted to say, “Yeah, traffic’s bad but I’m pretty sure getting butt-raped by your Uncle Clown Face is worse.” Instead I said, “Yeah, traffic sucks!”

Why do co-workers insist on wanting to hang out after work? We just hung out for eight hours! What’re you? My wife? If I wanted a wife - I’d pretend to like stuff.

I see girls all the time that I’d love to date but I figure they’re better off with a guy that embraces the crushing defeat of reality and likes rock-climbing or something equally stupid.

Sweet tattoo, bro! What is that? A pumpkin?

A buddy recently likened drinking a beer after work to getting ice cream after a little league game. I think Alcoholics Anonymous should put this at the top of their list for signs of alcoholism.

I wanna start doing kegel exercises - not so that I last longer in bed - so that my penis can headbang.

Having a one-night stand was something I had a really hard time with. Well, technically a really soft time.

There’s no way that Hitler’s bones are missing. Somebody knows exactly where they are and they’re just hiding them so no one digs them up to shoot them again. Or so nobody eats them and turns into some kind of radioactive zombie Hitler with the strength of one thousand blitzkriegs and a million tiny mustaches.

I want to write a pro-Nazi book called “A Million Tiny Mustaches”.

Draino doesn’t unclog drains. The only thing that goes smoothly down the pipes after purchasing Draino is five bucks.

How hard is it to reply to an email? I get so frustrated when people don’t respond that I swear I’d be satisfied if they just wrote back, “Thx 4 da emale, yer a fagit lol”. At least that’d be something.

Olden times were stupid. Pegs legs and Morse code. Also, did antique hobos use wheelbarrows instead of shopping carts? The answer is…indubitably.

I want to open a bar and call it “The Internet.” Mankind’s prayers will be answered and people can finally go to the The Internet to get drunk. Ironically, it will not have WiFi or even a computer cash register. Instead, I’ll use one of those old cash registers with the metal cranks and if people complain I’ll yell, “get the hell out of here – you’re banned from The Internet!”

When it comes to doing laundry, my philosophy is, “if it gets wet and then dry, it’s clean.” So that’s why, instead of going to the laundry mat, I just pee my pants and then set them on fire. Clean as a whistle, Mom!

Is that a roll of quarters in your pocket or do you just have a baby boner?

If I lived during the cowboy days, I would’ve been that boozebag wasted on the sawdust-covered floor at the back of the bar. People would always say, “Howdy partner, you’re Wild Julius McBloop, ain’t ya?” and I’d say “Graggle gee goo!” And barf on their cowboy boots. They’d hate me at first, but I’d win their stupid cowboy hearts with my hilarious horse jokes.

The plastic clips that secure bread packaging have the ability to reproduce. There’s no other explanation as to why I see them scattered around the kitchen at an impossibly growing rate. One time, I found a bread clip in the bathroom, which either means that they reproduce by mating with pubic hair or I blacked out and ate a toilet sandwich.

If trees had teats they’d be called treats.

Recently, I was walking through a rough neighborhood late at night and some guy tried to sell me drugs. He said “Man, you need somethin’?” I replied, “Nah, I’m good.” To which he countered, “Man, I got this kryptonite!” I smiled and walked away. In hindsight, I should’ve bought some of that crazy shit and killed Superman once and for all.

Whenever I’m feeling particularly frustrated, I pop on a wonderful little diddy called Slaughtered by PanterA to cheer me up. Try it out for yourself PanterA - Slaughtered

I see dudes who are clearly queer dating women and looking prettier than them. So as far as this girl is concerned, I wonder if the joy of shopping and exchanging clothes with her boyfriend is worth all the awkward butt sex.

Waiting for the bus is exactly like being single. You’re just standing around all alone in the rainy cold waiting anxiously for your bus to arrive and when it finally does you don’t realize how bad it smells until it takes your money, the doors shut and you can’t wait for it to drop you back into the rainy cold unknown. That’s why I’m buying a bus and naming it the hooker express.

The shower is the ultimate think tank. It’s quiet, private and what better way is there to brainstorm than with a handful of soapy balls? Unless it’s someone else’s hand on your soapy balls. Then it’s impossible to form a complete sentence let alone brainstorm.

Public bathroom graffiti is often disagreeable. Lately I’ve been noticing the words “God Shits” written sloppily on toilet stalls and there’s no way that’s true. Unless, they’re not using “shit” to describe defecation but instead are crudely conveying the idea of God caring about us and therefore “giving a shit”. God is pretty mysterious but not nearly as mysterious as the word shit.

For all the sexy car washes represented in the media - I’ve yet to see one in real life. I’m really sad about that.

I’m tired of eating and drinking being the only ways to spend time socially. Science should invent some kind of primordial ooze tub that we can all lie in together and exchange brain chemicals. Who’s with me? Grace, get science on the phone. Grace? GRAAAAAAAAAACE!!!!!!!

Recently, I decided to forgo taking a nap in lieu of something more productive so I washed the dishes. As punishment from the nap Gods, I cut my finger on a steak knife.

Germans hate everyone. Did you know that when you sneeze and a German says “Gesundheit” it actually means “fuck you!”

I figured out how people started collecting sap and making it into maple syrup. There must have been some retarded kid that kept licking trees and eventually some regular kid dared another regular to try it out. The rest is history. Pancake history.

The meal after breakfast and before lunch is called brunch. The meal in between brunch and lunch is called “you’re fat”.

A blank sheet of paper does not imply writer’s block – it’s merely a fresh patch of snow for the writer to pee his name into. A pile of pee-soaked snow is a writer’s playground. Writers are disgusting.

Cloning sheep was a start. Cloning Uncle Sam is my idea!

Can I get extra cheese on that? And an extra bun. Ooh, and an extra burger patty. No, I don’t want two cheeseburgers – I just want one with a ton of extras!

My awesome boss update – he recently became annoyed by having to attend a mandatory company meeting at 4:30pm because that’s the time he’s scheduled to crack his first Bud Light. Apparently, alcoholism is my only criteria for being a cool boss.

Everyday is your birthday when you’re an alcoholic.

The most common phrases I say inside my head are “what do you want?” and “leave me alone!” I wonder if that’s a bad thing…? Oh well, I hear that there’s only five more months until football season!