Only 110 more days till Christmas.

I gave up one of my favorite jokes the other day, and I don't know how I feel about it.  I know a guy and this other guy who do a podcast.  I posed a "question" to them, which just happens to be a running "gag" among my oval of friends.  The question:

"Can you assassinate a baby?"

Of course it made the podcasters giggle and discuss and wax philosophical.  I chuckled that they were talking about something I talk about a lot.  But it didn't feel right.  I wasn't hearing my usual friends talking back.  I have a very tight-knit oval.  I was somewhat jealous too that these guys were doing a podcast and Z and I haven't started ours yet (ever).

But who cares.  These topics aren't meant for podcasts or webcams or internet TV shows that will soon take off and become all the RAGE.  They're meant for me and the others I care to talk to in a public place.  We've got more topics.  Many more.  Sonic abortions?  T-Rex fighting?  Pringles Field Goal Kicking?  Cum Sideburns?  How many people here have AIDS?  etc.  (that's the best use of etc. ever, write it down or type it up).

The only way you're going to hear these jokes...  you know what... they're not even jokes.  They're the truth.  And fuck you, we're not going to tell you.  You'll have to eavesdrop next time you see three dudes coloring a picture at a bar all by themselves.

"Nice cleavage woman.  Are there any grey crayons over by you?  I need to make a top hat."

--Coming soon to the Twin Cities near you.