No Wonder!





So old Chinesey man run away from Lost Angeless mental confinement palace and seek taxi cab steerage.

When after much arm wagging hot dog mustard color car stop, Chinesey man find into back seat and profuse:

“Hurry hurry! Drive to Kowloon! No letter from home residents for twenty year!”

“You must tug my leg sideways,” taxi pilot expunge. “Drive to Kowloon impossibility. Kowloon on other shore side of ocean water expanse!”

“Ah,” Chinesey man breathe when brain light explode, “No wonder they never write!”








~ by Whingy Whang
© All Rights Reserved





Sit!







Q:   What's Lassie's favorite
        kind of chair?

A:    A Barkalounger!






~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Baboon-ed!




















M ethinks
These be baboon-ed days.
For want of suck this curv-ed fruit I entreat.




~ by Russ Allison Loar
Photo: Public Domain
© All Rights Reserved

You Did Not Return My Shovel


You did not return my shovel.
I really need it bad.
You left and took my shovel.
It’s made my life so sad.

It was my only shovel.
I had it all these years.
I own no other shovel.
My tool shed sheds such tears.
I can see it now,
Shining in the sun.
Glowing in the rain.
O my lost shovel,
Causes me such pain.

I am cold in the night
Cause my shovel’s not in sight.
How can I carry on
When my shovel’s lost and gone?

Someday when you’re in hell,
You’ll know the reason why.
You horked my beauty shovel,
And digging made you die.



~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Uber Al Fresco



The comfort of a limo with the thrill of a convertible. Caution is advised when reclining seats while vehicle is making sharp turns in busy intersections. Not recommended for freeway driving.


~ Words and Photo by Russ Allison Loar 
© All Rights Reserved






Home On The Range



Home on the range,
On the horse.





~ Words and artwork by Russ Allison Loar
~ Click on image to enlarge
© All Rights Reserved




Afterlife


The first tribunal was with the chickens.

“According to our records,” the chief justice rooster announced in a loud, screeching voice, assuring he would be heard all the way back to the very last row of the cavernous courtroom, packed with clucking hens and muttering roosters of all kinds and colors.

“According to our records, during your lifetime, you have eaten," he paused with grave solemnity, "the equivalent of 5,693 chickens,” he declared, pointing his beak menacingly at me, his wattles inflated with indignation.

I shivered at the totality of it all.

“The accused will stand before this court.”

I stood.

“Do you wish to make a statement before sentence is passed?”

“Yes,” I barely answered in tremulous voice.

“Proceed.”

Summoning up my courage, knowing there was little I could say that would alter my fate, I cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and at the top of my voice cried out:

“Cock-A-Doodle-Doo!”



~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





A Matter Of Taste








What does a garage door . . .




 . . . have in common with
             the Rock Of Gibraltar?






They both taste bad with ketchup!







~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





But Seriously Folks




Thank you ladies and gentle worms. Tonight, I’m going to start out with a tribute to all of you. That’s right, a musical tribute to human beings.


{Sleazy lounge singer voice}

♪ Hey there!
Yes you there!
Didja know there,
That you’ve got:
Two legs,
And you’ve got:
Two arms,
And you’ve got:
Two brains,
Inside your head, yeah! ♪


Needs a little work.

But seriously folks, I just want you to know I’m a believer in clean comedy. Yeah. Clean comedy. That’s my thing. Clean comedy.

So, these two bars of soap were walking down the street and they’re having a really heated argument. This one bar of soap is getting furious—out of control. So the other bar of soap says, “Hey! Don’t work yourself up into a lather!”

Oh yeah, it’s clean!


(Rim shot)

I was just talking backstage with legendary comedian Buzzy Vava Voom. He just flew in from a 37-year run at Joey Knuckles' Steak and Stein in Lost Wages, Nevada, and boy is his airplane tired!


(Bass drum hit)

“Buzzy,” I said, “what’s the secret of your success? How do You be funny?”

Buzzy says to me, “Kid, don’t get too personal with your humor. Nobody wants to hear about your personal problems. So if you really hate your wife, don’t do wife jokes because the audience will see that you really mean it and they won’t think you’re funny.”

So, taking Buzzy’s advice about keeping my personal life out of my humor, for those who have seen me perform before, I won’t be doing the bit about the wacky arsonist, the naked parking attendant, or the bit about falling in love with grandpa’s cow.



(Muffled laughter)

There was this guy with a big penis who walks into a bar, sits down on a barstool and orders a beer. The bartender slaps the beer down on the counter and the guy with the big penis hands him a twenty dollar bill. A couple of minutes later the bartender comes back and gives him a five dollar bill in change and says:

“We don’t get many guys in here with big penises.”

The guy with the big penis looks at the five dollar bill, looks at his beer, looks back at the five dollar bill, then looks at the bartender and says:

“How come?”


(Sustained, awkward silence)

“But seriously folks, you know, my wife is such a bitch . . .”



~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Blackmail
















To You Whom It May Concern,

I am in possession of certain facts and sensitive material that have no relevance to you in any way.

Unless you deliver $1 million in unmarked coins to my home within 48 hours, I will be forced to release this irrelevant material to the newspapers, which, in all likelihood, will not publish it.

This is your next-to-last warning!

Ima Moron
54321 Blastoff Avenue,
Zoloft, CA 98765-4321


P.S. Do not give my address to the police.





~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved