"Ninjas are masters of disguise and have ninja-like reflexes. So, it's imperative that you are very careful around ninjas."
"But, how do you know when there are ninjas around?"
"You don't know. You have to be careful all the time!"
"Umm..."
"If you ever see half-a-dozen ninjas, it's because they want you to!"
"Uhh..."
"And there'd probably be another half-a-dozen hiding nearby. Very nearby."
"Hey, umm, i...."
"What?"
"Is that a ninja?"
* looks around *
"Where?"
One hot afternoon in Venice I sat in a cafe, by a stinking canal, watching the girls go by. I wish I was back there now.
As I sat there, a group of twelve gondolas floated by.
The waitress asked, "What would you like the drink?"
"Twelve Bud Lights, " said one of the gondolas.
I was hoping to show you a picture of Well Toasted Bread, but it was deemed too controversial. So, this is the best I was able to do.
Luckily, the toaster wasn't also censored.
You've got to Count your Blessings.
I filed an appeal in the Court of Law, to have the Decision Lifted, on the premise that it is my right to Express my Toast.
Hopefully, you'll soon be treated to a delicious picture of Well Toasted Bread.
Twelve servings of Smooth Peanut Butter stand by.
Two Rugged Souls tread through Uncharted Territory.
They must Tread Carefully, Beware of Pitfalls and Keep an Eye Out for Danger.
It is expected that they will be damaged along the way.
It is expected that they will be tough enough.
Twelve Helping Hands laugh; they know, "You can't go-it alone."
Several hikers--outfitted identically in khaki shorts and shirts, wool socks, leather boots (with very rugged soles) and walking sticks--stride purposefully down the trail.
"I'm hungry, who brought the granola?"
"Craig has it."
"No I don't. Chelsea was supposed to bring it."
"Was not!"
"It's not important who was supposed to bring it. What is important is, Who did bring it?"
After a long silence...
"Oh great, no granola!"
"Does anybody have anything to eat?"
After a short silence...
"I have a little trail-mix."
"Great. Give it here."
"No I want it."
"It's mine"
"You have to share. Pass it over."
"No, me first."
It continues like this for quite some time.
The Elusive Red Whale swims silently by.
Nobody sees him.
He joins eleven of his friends at The Hidden Location.
They sip on margaritas and laugh--life is seriously funny.
So, I'm walking down the river one day when twelve Red Herring come up and swim around me.
One of the Red Herring says, "Look, a seagull!"
I look.
I look back.
The herring are gone!
Nearby, I hear twelve strands of seaweed laughing--I think I hear one of them mention something about a "funny hat."
Three viaducts cross three valleys.
Three people walk on them.
Three viaducts collapse and three people fall.
They die, and slip, unnoticed, into heaven.
Three houses are built on three clouds,
With three decks, three barbecues and three mini-fridges.
Twelve angels laugh, for the dead are still trying to live.
"A funny thing happened today."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah"
"What happened?"
"Well, you know those gag-flowers-things that squirt water when somebody smells them?"
"Gag-flower-things?"
"Yeah, clowns wear them."
"Oh yeah, those gag-flower-things!"
"Yeah. Anyway, these thirty-seven clowns..."
"Thirty-seven clowns?"
"Yeah, thirty-seven clowns."
"That's a lot of clowns!"
"Yeah. Anyway, these thirty-seven clowns where standing around..."
"What were they drinking?"
"Tea, I think. Anyway, these thirty-seven clowns where standing around, wearing these gag-flower-things, in a circle."
"A circle?"
"Yeah, and each clown was sniffing the next clowns flower-thing."
"All around the circle?"
"Yeah, all around the circle."
"Okay"
"So, then all thirty-seven clowns squirt each other at the same time."
"Hey, that's pretty funny."
"But that's not even the funny thing."
"What's the funny thing?"
"These twelve businessmen, who are eating lunch nearby..."
"Businessmen? Where was this?"
"In the park."
"The park?"
"You know, the park across from that Chinese doughnut shop. The Lucky Golden Cruller."
"Oh yeah, that's a nice park."
"Yeah. Anyway, these twelve businessmen are laughing like crazy. So I ask them what they're laughing at."
"And?"
"And they were laughing at my funny hat!"
Four-Point-Three (4.3) Wednesdays walk into a month.
The waitress asks them, "What would you like to drink?"
"Four point three coffees, please," says one on the Wednesdays.
The Wednesdays sigh over their coffees and think, "There is still much work to be done."
Twelve holidays laugh, for the Wednesdays are doing nothing at all.
The Spurious Potato has never been underground and his eyes have no function.
The Spurious Potato uses various methods of misdirection, so nobody looks too closely.
The Spurious Potato can usually blend into the rest of The Sack, but when things heat up his true nature will become apparent.
The Spurious Potato must avoid the Paring Knife and Cooking Pot, at all costs.
Once upon a time, a large piece of fried chicken slipped on the stairs. As he lay unconscious on the floor eleven Herbs & Spices sneaked out the back door; where they met The Salt.
The twelve seasonings disguised themselves are carefree gypsies and they went cursing and fortune-telling.
Then they gave in to their meanest assumed stereotype--they laughed and danced.
A Pack of Philosophers walk into a swimming pool and immediately head for the Deep End.
The waitress asks them, "What would you like to drink?"
"Twelve Bud Lights, please," says one of the philosophers.
They spend several hour speculating on the nature of the Shallow End.
Twelve life guards laugh, for the Pack of Philosophers have silly lifejackets.
A Pack of Lies walks into a bar. They get served immediately, but they don't get what they want (they don't ask for what they want).
The waitress asks them, "What would you like to drink?"
"Twelve Bud Lights, please," says one of the lies.
They receive their drinks promptly.
While drinking them they're all thinking, "This isn't what I wanted."
Twelve bar patrons sip their drinks and laugh, for the Pack of Lies have silly hats.
Twelve ninjas walk into a bar, but they don't get served. So they disguise themselves as bar patrons.
The waitress asks them, "What would you like to drink?"
"Twelve Bud Lights, please," says one on the ninjas.
Being a ninja doesn't guarantee refined taste in beer. Or, maybe, it's part of the disguise?
Well, it's official. I have a blog. I just don't have anything to say.
That's not true.
Some other lies include:
"I am a fashion-model for a local retail outlet."
"I eat 9 servings of fruits and vegetables daily."
"I'd be happier if I was rich."
"I am protected from all harm by a band of highly skilled ninjas."
