me: “You know what I like most about you, Klonopin?  It’s that you don’t judge me, man.  You take me for who I am.” Klonopin: “Don’t mention it.  I mean, Lord knows being batshit crazy is enough of a burden without my piling on.” “Although I must say, I do wish you’d stop poking the neighbor’s cat with that big grilling fork.  I have a reputation for effectiveness to uphold,

Guinness:  “Dude, I don’t like the way you’re looking at me.  Like a thirsty prospector casing a mudhole.” me:  “Oh, stop being so frickin’ paranoid, would you?” me: me “…Say, how do you feel about maybe inviting fifteen or so of your friends over?  For a little party…”

me: “Just out of curiosity, has Tucker ever, y’know, pulled any tubes…?” Tucker Carlson’s bowtie:  “What, you mean has he ever surfed?” me: “Well, that too.  But I was thinking more along the lines of, has he ever, like, smoked any reefer with his conservabuddies?” Tucker Carlson’s bowtie:  “Oh.  Well, no, not that I’ve ever seen.  Though for what it’s worth, that guy can suck down some serious frozen strawberry

Sonicare i8500:  “Well…?  Whaddya think?” Me: “Jesus God, baby! You make Mentos feel like a french kiss from a congested nun!”

Sonicare i8500:  “So.  You ready…?” Me: “I think so.  But be gentle, okay?  This is my first time.”

Me: “So tell me. Does he keep you on while he’s…y’know –” Tucker Carlson’s bowtie: “– Gettin’ some strange?  ‘Fraid so.” Tucker Carlson’s bowtie: “And the worst part?  On the days he’s wearing his thong, he looks like some pasty wannabe Chippendale’s dancer who’s spent a few too many happy hours with his snout burried in the potato skins.” Tucker Carlson’s bowtie: “I mean, if he can’t be embarrassed for

me: “Question:  Is the fact that you have a zipper whose placement quite pointedly corresponds with the placement of the male genitals—rather than, say, a flap that is more propitiously and unisexually situated—suggestive of a prevailing cultural ethos that remains, at its core, hostile to the elevation of women to equal status?” Levi’s: Levi’s: “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Merrick:  “I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!” Me: “Let me ask you this, John:  if, hypothetically, you were seated on a plane next to an unaccompanied child, and the flight attendant came over and demanded that you change seats—as a matter of policy, and out of fear that someone of your kind might sexually abuse said child—would you be terribly offended?” Merrick: “– I AM A HUMAN BEING!” Me: “Yeah, I

Merrick:  “I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!” Me:  “Uh huh. Say, what do you think of this as an idea for a t-shirt:  ’Malformed Victorian Freaks With Enormous Heads (Which Leave Them Susceptible to Suffocation) Do It Standing Up!’” Merrick:  “I AM A HUMAN BEING!” Me:  “Yeah, too wordy.  Still, I think there’s a huge untapped market out there for Elephantitis humor, if only we could figure out a way to

Me: “In my day, it was all Pixie Stix and Smarties.  And Sugar Daddys. Lots of Sugar Daddys.” Ghost of Halloweens past: “I remember.” Me: “Now it’s all like, bite-sized Twix bars.” Ghost of Halloweens past: “Yup.” Me: “Bite-sized.  What’s that all about?” Ghost of Halloweens past: Me: “Man. I do so miss Sugar Daddys.” Ghost of Halloweens past: “Stop it, would you?  You’re gonna make me cry.”