.thguoht eh “,ereht wen gnihtoN”
.meht dnatsrednu t’ndid eh dna ,mih dnatsrednu t’ndid yeht esuaceb ,enoyna htiw etacinummoc t’ndluoc eH
.lamron ot nruter dna tceffe eht (niaga drow taht s’ereht) esrever ot yaw a fo kniht ton dluoc eh dna ,sdrawkcab emit decneirepxe won eH. secneuqesnoc neeserofnu dah tnemirepxe siH
“There I was, enjoying a nice restaurant meal, when these vampires burst in and scared everybody. I picked up my steak, pushed it into that vampire’s heart, and dusted him.”
“Stake isn’t spelled ‘S-T-E-A-K’.”
“Those vamps didn’t seem to know much about spelling.”
“Guess they should have stayed in school.”
“Tomatoes always lose in a fight: they’re too fragile.”
“Yeah, but potatoes or carrots can’t stand the heat either, they just soften and fall apart.”
“So, who would win in a vegetable food fight?”
“Onions.”
“Why?”
“Onions are natural tear gas, for one. Plus, they are great mine layers.”
“Layers?”
He had this para-normal ability about eating and food. He would always know what he was going to eat, days in advance.
He could taste it.
He could feel it go down (or coming up).
Then, one day, it all stopped.
So he killed himself, to avoid starving to death.
“Save my children!” screamed the woman as the firemen carried her out.
Hank went back in.
Avoiding a sudden fireball to his right, he slips through a hole in the wall to his left, into the next room. Looking around, he sees them.
“Dolls,” he snarls as the building collapses.
“I had to fire half my staff.”
“You only had four employees!”
“So? I still had to fire two people.”
“Why?”
“When my best floor technician, Harry White, left, I hired two asian techs to replace him.”
“But, didn’t you just fire two asians?”
“Two Wongs don’t make a White.”
“It’s like everybody’s out to get me.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Well, kinda helpless. And depressed. Even my best friends seem to be avoiding me. Heh, I must be imagining things.”
“Even if you’re paranoid, it doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.”
Psychoanalyst: Satan’s new hobby.
With the economy failing, no recovery in sight, the priest showed his solution to a friend.
“Jesus coins?” the friend asked.
“Exchange value guaranteed by our savior himself.”
“How’d you figure?”
“Money’s had a faith component since it stopped being worth its weight in gold.”
“Change you can believe in?”
By 2052, an economic process that had been going on for centuries suddenly reversed.
Before, the middle class had been shrinking, mostly increasing the ranks of the poor. Now, the middle-class is growing. Very few poor or rich are left.
Charity now has a new meaning:
Four give, and four get.
For decades, He built his machine, hand-milling each rod and cog… It would be his crowning achievement. The end was at hand.
Over the years, bats had taken residence inside the deeper parts of the machine.
Finally, he started the machine, which promptly blew up.
It’s raining bats and cogs!