A couple years ago there was a commercial featuring a camel roaming thru a typical office, presumable on a Wednesday, exclaiming to everyone “…what day is it? WHAT. DAY. IS. IT??” and of course for a while people (including me) were parroting that and “Hump-DAY!!” and “…mike mike mike mike mike…” The spot hasn’t been shown in a while ao I don’t hear it as much any more.
In 1994, Republicans introduced the Contract With America, a set of legislative goals they were promising to enact if they won the majority in the House of Representatives. Of course, the Democrats wittily labeled it the Contract On America.
As the OP said, this thread was inspired by that one.
This is really wise. Drives me nuts, and not just here on the 'Dope.
I am totally stealing this one. And applying it to Thanksgiving too.
I’ve recently met an Ariel and a Leia. Both of the expected age.
Back around 2000 when I was 40-ish I used to work in rotating three-man teams. I was always the middle guy, so the lead was usually 5-10 years older and the 3rd was younger, sometimes much younger. One time by luck the lead was Dick and the 3rd was Dan. At the end of the workday I said “Say good night Dick” to which he instantly replied “Good night Dick” and we both started laughing like mad. Some more “Dick and Dan” banter ensued. Young Dan was utterly baffled. Even after we explained it to him. He was 15+ years too young for that silliness.
I’ve told this story before, but as a teen I worked for a man named “Ronald McDonald”. He was in elementary school when the clown was invented. Not an easy life for him.
That’s about the whole story. Collectively we (humanity) are idiots. Insensitive idiots. But proudly insensitive idiots.
Now that is how to make a tired joke fresh. Well done Good Sir.
If one must do tired jokes, at least freshen them up a bit. Like quickly microwaved week-old bread or perfume on a pig, it makes everything so much better.
It reminds me of something that happened many years back. My wife and I were driving down a back road. It’s in the suburbs of Philly, so not rural, but some people did raise chickens as a hobby. And sure enough, up the road ahead of us we see a few chickens crossing the road.
Well, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for a city boy like me, and somebody has to be the straight man, so I immediately ask her, “Say, why do you think those chickens are crossing the road?”