Between the fear and the hope, 2009 is shaping up to be a bumpy ride. I might be a newborn foal taking my first wobbly steps or I could be Old Yeller wagging my tail at the man with the gun. Too soon to tell. Either way, I’ve got some questions.
Why does George Michael continue to use public bathrooms? How many times does he need to get busted before he’ll learn to put a bedpan in his limo? At least he only got caught with crack and pot this time. Maybe the glory hole was closed for the night.
Has a friend ever come back from a trip to Europe and told you the public toilets there are great: they’re really clean? Define clean. Did you ever have someone barf into a helmet and then put it on? I trust the answer is no but I think you catch my drift. Those places would look like a CSI murder scene under a blacklight. Or like a bedspread at the Holiday Inn.
I used a public bathroom in Paris once. Supposedly it locked and cleaned itself between every use. So I thought, what if a bum got stuck in there? Would he drown?
Why don’t environmentalists ever tell people they should stop having pets? What’s worse for the planet: dog shit or dog shit in a baggy, preserved in a landfill until the end of time? People run around bagging up crap behind Fido, but do you think they’d do that for you? They’d put you in a frigging home.
Where do creationists think oil comes from? It’s fossil fuel. But if the earth is only 6,000 years old and scientists faked the fossil record, where does the oil come from? If dinosaurs walked the earth with humans, which must be true because Sarah Palin believes it, those fossils turn to oil fast. That’s good news because the hamster you buried in your backyard is fuel by now. If we just stop cremation and putting our dead in boxes, we’ll soon be right as rain. Apply some pressure and pretty soon Grandma’s corpse will be bubbling up some crude.
Does anyone actually think that paint-on abs look good? If I have a huge belly, the last thing I want to do is draw a big diagram on it. The only place I want to see paint on a guy’s belly is at an NFL game. And that’s just so I can make fun of him. For God’s sake, people! Even Stevie Wonder has a sense of touch: do you think he doesn’t know what fat feels like?
Why aren’t there any winos anymore? Where have they gone?