So I woke up this morning thinking that if Descartes got into a brawl with fencing swords, it would likely be called a Rene epee melee.
Do any of you have this sort of meaningful dialog with yourselves?
I woke up this morning wondering if Bruce Lee would stand a chance against the current day MMA professionals in his weight category.
Did the great actor hide the newest corpses in the bushes out in the wasteland? In other words: Did Barrymore bury more in the berry moor?
I also thought that if a Star Wars star brokered a peace treaty on edged weapons, it would likely be called a Ford Sword Accord.
Oh, I get it!
If fuzzy wuzzy was a bear and fuzzy wuzzy had no hair, then did fuzzy wuzzy have alopecia?
…I don’t get it. 
I woke up this morning wondering why I was intent on getting up this morning…
If William Shatner continuously badgered Miley Cyrus to dance for him, and she refused him each time, would she shirk Kirk’s twerk quirk?
In High School Journalism class (circa 1968), we had a practice assignment to re-write any well-known fairy-tale in the form of a news story. I did Cinderella.
The headline was:
You’re a deep one, aren’t you Pfefferblinken?
If I receive a set of two fixed-up skinless fruit from my German friend, did I get Per’s pair of repaired pared pears?
Apparently.
I never understood why we drive on a parkway, but park on a driveway…oh wait, now I do. Never mind.
Or why generals eat in a private mess and privates eat in a general mess? It’s all very mysterious.
Is Per the payer, per se, or is it Per’s perishing parish?
Are the people who police what’s considered allowable in polite society the apropos po-po?
How many homilies on hominy have you in your hymnal?
Ever have the fuzz buzz your cuz?