Now that the turkey meat is out of my system and my brain has left the molasses state and returned to “normal”, I’m happy to be back and writing again.

-In my best estimates, I’d say that about half of the new dance crazes are derived from someone having a wild animal crawl up their pant leg.

-I’m a man of my word and that word is “wet-t-shirt-contest”.

-Someone needs to create a reality TV show where they lock a bunch of Twilight fans into a cave with live vampire bats and then let them get bitten and die of disease. Team Edward and Team Jacob that, bitches!

-”I look like a Bangkok hooker on a Sunday morning after the navy’s left town.” – The Matador

-In a small town there are only two barbers; one has a really bad haircut and the other has a really great haircut. Which barber should you let cut your hair?

-Alcohol isn’t the answer: alcohol is the question and “Yes!” is the answer!

-I had a nightmare that I was smothered to death by cleavage. Now that I think about it, I’d consider it more of a dream than a nightmare.

-I have a great holiday porn spoof idea: Randy The Red Donged Truck Driver. The climax will be him and eight of his friends in a scene with a really fat woman in a red dress.

-The guitarist, drummer, and bass player of my one man band were killed in a plane crash. I’ll have to trek on with just a singer and a kazooist now.

-I’d like to see the Care Bears and the Smurfs duke it out in a no holds barred fight to the death.

-Shopping at 9:30am on a weekday is a true test of patience, because at that time everyone over 65 years old who moves slower than a snail in a vat of glue is out shopping as well. They will damn sure all be writing checks to pay as well. If you’re lucky, they might not bump into you with their power scooter.

-I’m not the type of guy to get all soft and mushy. In fact, the only guy to get soft and mushy is one who gets put inside a microwave.

-I want a pet dinosaur for Christmas. I’ll feed him my enemies.

-Ignorance is not bliss.