I KNOW I’m funny; I’m just underappreciated

There’s a running joke in the office about the large amounts of scotch consumed by “Bob”. Last week, another employee was trying to use Bob’s computer, which kept crashing. I pointed out that there was biometric identification built into the mouse: It measured Blood/Alcohol levels.

In a conversation between manly men, the inevitable “I like my (beverage) like I like my women” discussion came around. I opined that “I like my coffee like I like my women.” “Hot and black?” came the question. “Ground down and bitter,” I clarified.

On a message board a few years ago, it was pointed out that the National Organization for Women had turned 40. I suggested we trade it in for two 20-year-old women’s’ organizations.

When an article in our local newspaper tried to blame Grand Theft Auto for a shooting, I asked “Since I’m usually wandering around with no clue as to what I should be doing, can I blame Myst?”.

A story online mentioned that a big rig carrying vacuums had been hijacked, with no clue as to the identity of the perpetrator(s). My suggestion was that authorities should be on the lookout for Nature.