Mitochondria are smaller than quarks.
Heh.
My son’s Cub Scout Master is an avid hunter. Every time we take the scouts camping, there’s always a nature hike where he’ll point out a tortoise den, a spot where wild boars have been digging, etc.
I’ve been waiting for the day when he points to a pile of deer dung and say “there’s deer sign”. At which point, I retrieve a few carob-covered-raisins from my cargo pocket, reach down and pretend to pick up some of the deer pellets, briefly let him see the carob-raisins in my hand and openly pop them into my mouth…and say “Fresh, too!”
:eek: was the look in his face.
I laughed myself silly.
No matter how drop dead gorgeous a woman is, somewhere a man is tired of putting up with her crap.
We were discussing Advent in Sunday School this morning, and one of the class said she had put her manger scene figurines indifferent areas of the house and were moving them toward the manger every day or two.
I asked if she had the Magi in the eastern part of her home. Thank you, I’ll be here all week. Try the veal!
I was pretty pleased with a witticism I came up with spontaneously a few weeks ago.
The subject of “loose women” came up, and my (female) friend asked, “Why is it people talk about ‘loose women,’ but never ‘loose men’?”
Me: “It would be redundant.”
"Santa keeps a racially/ethnically pure enslaved work force in a forced labor camp. "
A: “This drug turns women into sex crazed maniacs!”
B: “Does it work on men?”
A: “We can’t tell.”
Tiger Woods, is dat you?