Me, Myself, and I

I’ve just realized that all the major problems in my life have been caused by me.  I am my own personal roadblock and at 6’1”, 230 lbs, that’s a big fucking roadblock.  I will be walking down the road of life, trying to get to my destination (Burger King) as quickly as possible.  All of a sudden, I am stopped by a man selling peculiar looking pills on the side of the road.  “Hey man, you look like you could use a pill,” he says to me, “they won’t slow you down.  They will only make you feel euphoric for the rest of your trip,”  So of course, with no questions asked, I take the pill.  Next thing I know, I’m sitting, ass-naked, in a field, talking to General Custer’s great-great-great nephew about the beauties of aqua socks and two hand touch football.   At this point, I’ve forgotten all about my journey… and that goat behind me has been beckoning me towards the hills for quite some time.  I know what’s in those hills… more goats.  So I go towards the hills and I’ll be damned if there isn’t a single dog on that hill that wasn’t a goat. Then, the goats began to taunt me with chants of “You Can’t Make Milk, You Can’t Make Milk!”  I try to defend myself but how can I?  I clearly don’t make milk.


One Response to “Me, Myself, and I”

  1. An eccentric billionaire wanted a mural painted on his library wall, so he called in an artist.

    Describing what he wanted, the billionaire said, “I am a history buff, and I would like your interpretation of the last thing that went through Custer’s mind before he died. I am going out of town on business for a week, and when I return I expect to see it completed.”

    Upon his return, the billionaire went to the library to examine the finished work. To his surprise he found a painting of a cow with a halo. Surrounding this there were hundreds of Indians in various stages and different positions of making love.

    Furious he called in the artist. “What the hell is this?” screamed the billionaire.

    “Why that’s exactly what you asked for”, said the artist smugly.

    “No! I didn’t ask for a mural of pornographic filth, I asked for a mural of the interpretation of Custer’s last thoughts!”

    “And there you have it,” said the artist, “I call it ‘Holy cow, look at all those fucking Indians.'”

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