We Made Out in a Tree and This Old Guy Sat and Watched Us

Contributed by Craig Bates

From the contributor: In Westwood, CA, there’s a homeless man who sits on a Kikoman Soy Sauce bucket dressed in his overalls each day and babbles his thoughts for all to hear by the local Coffee Bean. As I passed him and trotted across the intersection today, I heard Hobo McPoet scream at the top of his lungs:

If money ain’t everything, why is the bathroom on the inside of the house?

Truer words have never been spoken.

Contributed by Anonymous

At a business lunch, the contributor and several of her co-workers were discussing the four-month-old baby that another colleague was about to adopt from China. One of the women, apparently concerned about the practical ramifications of adopting a foreign child, asked:

Will they be able to communicate with it?

Contributed by Jeff J. Snider

The following is the thirteenth installment in an ongoing list kept by the contributor and his roommates and friends:

181. I Can’t Go Anywhere But Up, But I Sure Can Go Down A Lot Farther
182. That’s A Figurative Literal
183. Somebody Put ‘Contradiction’ In The ‘Romance’ Bottle
184. Continents Are Like Snowflakes (No Two Are The Same)
185. I Had Some Gizzard The Other Day — It Reminded Me Of You
186. Sometimes When I’m Driving I Scratch Myself Like A Velociraptor
187. Do Fetuses Have Endeavors?
188. Is That The Escalator That I Threw A Fit On Once?
189. There’s The Parking Lot Where We Met Juan Pablo And The Gypsy Woman
190. If You’re Big Before You’re Old, It’s Good To Have Something To Crap In
191. It’s Hard To Eat Melting Ice Cream At An Angle
192. Staying In One Place For A Long Time Makes Anything Happen
193. Skanky People Look Skankier In Utah
194. Everything Tastes Better Through A Chain Link Fence
195. Artie Will Only Have My Latkes With Ketchup

Contributed by Denise

A conversation between the contributor and her fifth-grade daughter:

Daughter: Tad’s house is a dish-level home.
Mother: What’s a “dish-level home”?
D: It’s a small house.
M: Did you mean “hovel”?
D: No, dish-level. I looked it up.
[Pause while Mother thinks about what Daughter could possibly mean.]
M: Oh, did you mean disheveled? That’s a messy house.
D: No, it means small house.
[Conversation ends and is almost forgotten, until a couple days later, when Daughter says this:]
D: Mom, I figured out what the word was that I was trying to remember in the car. It was “bungalow.”

Contributed by Grace

A conversation between the contributor and her male friend about their earliest memories:

Friend: I have one memory from when I was three.
Contrib: What happened? What was it?
Friend: Oh, I told a girl I was three. I wonder if she’s hot now.

Contributed by Alysha Jackson

From the contributor:

One of the activities in my daughter’s Sunday school class one day at church was to go fishing with a pole that had a magnet on the end of it into a pond that had other magnets in it. Her Sunday school teacher said that the other children wouldn’t always wait for the connection to happen, they’d ‘help’ it to happen. When it was my daughter’s turn, some of the others started ‘helping,’ and my daughter said:

No, I don’t need any help. I am a professional hooker.

Contributed by Wayne Woodfield

The contributor overheard some “nerdy” co-workers discussing the upcoming series finale of a sci-fi television show. The following exchange occurred between the men and a “very blonde” receptionist who inserted herself into the conversation:

Nerd 1: “Nobody knows how it ends yet. They only made one copy of the script, and it was printed on red paper.”

Receptionist: “So what? Why red paper?”

Nerd 2: “Well, since red paper photocopies black, a photocopy of the script couldn’t be made.”

Receptionist: (shaking her head) “Well, that’s so stupid - why don’t they just print it on black paper then?”

Contributed by Lori R

From the contributor:

Playing “Taboo” - the game where you have to describe a word for your teammate(s) to guess, without using any of the “taboo” words provided by the game manufacturer.

The word she needs to guess is “widow.” The clue given is, “This is what you call a woman when her spouse passes away.”

Her response: “Whore!”

Contributed by blue

Overheard in a conversation between two old men who were, for some reason, in a dormitory elevator:

you know why we don’t have problems with werewolves or wild fires? because we eat right, that’s why.

Contributed by Renee Boyer

A note from a 10-year-old girl to the contributor’s brother-in-law:

To Jhon + Niel
Thank-you for letting me use your computer I am internally grateful love J