Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The Lost and Found Spittoon

As many of you know, I go to church at an elementary school. Something about me being in an elementary school brings back my mind of mischief and makes me want to put tin foil gum wrappers in the electrical outlets again, but that's beside the point.

Just after Thanksgiving I was looking for a garbage can to get rid of my gum, but there were none to be found. There were recycling bins all over the place, but I figured if you're not even supposed to swallow gum you probably shouldn't recycle it. Hmm, I guess you're not supposed to swallow aluminum cans or milk jugs either. Sorry, my bad. Faulty logic.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, looking for a garbage can. I finally found one down the hall in a corner. It was a square bin with a black garbage liner. In other words, a garbage can. But, after I threw my gum in and looked down I noticed a big pile of coats. I was so perplexed. It wasn't until a few weeks later that they put up a sign indicating that the square garbage can was actually the Lost and Found. Nice job principal's office. Way to delegate to the garbage.

So, now I just stick my gum under the seats. And yes, for those of you that were wondering, I did fetch my gum from the bin as soon as I noticed the pile of coats. I was too worried that Tiny Tim would get a gum dreadlock in his armpit, what with the crutches and all.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Dream Jokes

I don't dream often. But when I do, I prefer Dos Equis. No, but seriously, I hardly ever remember my dreams. Last night's was vivid, though. Tommy was attempting to tell a joke at the dinner table and I was walking him through it because he pulled a mom and kept forgetting how it went. It's funny how I knew the punchline of the joke as Tommy was telling it in my dream, even though the joke didn't exist. It went like this:

So, a giraffe was talking to a cheetah and said, "So, what are you going to name your kid?"

"Clyde," said the cheetah.

"Well, how will that name help your baby know that it belongs to you?" asked the giraffe.

The cheetah thought for a minute, but couldn't think of a good answer. "I dunno," he said. "What did you name your kid to help it know that it belonged to you?"

The giraffe stared at the cheetah and said, "I'm a giraffe, baby!"

Yeah, I know. It doesn't make sense. It's kind of funny if you have the right deliver, but it still doesn't change the fact that it doesn't make sense. The last joke I told in my dreams was better.