And man and woman were expelled from the Garden of Eden Novelty Shop. And they did cover their nakedness. Man, with a cloth that read, "My Heavenly Father created the universe and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" and woman with a cloth that simply read, "I'm with stupid."
And the LORD sayeth unto an angel that this day shall be celebrated in your name. And you shall be called...Shecky. And the angel turned to the LORD and sayeth, "You vant I should be called Shecky?"
May you all have the funniest of St. Shecky's days. Live, love, and laugh.
Oh, your shoe is untied.
As we say in the practical joke business - "once you accept the fact that you are going to hell, life becomes a whole lot easier." Hey, where do I get one of those "I'm with stupid" cloths? I got an aniversary coming up . . .
Sorry as funny as this is...scientology is still funnier.
I nominate Tom Cruise and L. Ron Hubbard as honorary saints, because sometimes the funniest jokes are said with a straight face, while making an ass of yourself.
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"We'd like you to have this lapel from the Comedist Church would you care to make a donation?" squirt
That would make a fun afternoon in central park.
Rental toga is on its way.
Frank,
I did my very first evangelizing in the train station in Chicago a few years back. A pan-handler asked me for some money for a cup of coffee and after I gave him a buck, he asked me if I was religious...so I told him all about Comedism and then told him the one about the guy who walks into the penthouse bar of the Marriot in New York. Afterwards, he looked at me and said, "God bless you." I looked at him and said, "Gesundheit."
A man walks into the bar of the penthouse restuarant of the Marriot in Times Square. A drunk walks over puts $100 on the bar and bets him the he could jump out the window and fly around the building.
The guy says, "You're drunk."
The drunk says, "I may be, but I"m going to do it whether you take the bet or not, so you might as well make the money, right?"
So, he puts $100 on the bar, the drunk opens the window, flies around the building, picks up the $200 and puts it in his pocket."
Incredulously, the guy asks, "How did you do that?"
"Easy," says the drunk, "I'm an architectural engineer and if you look at the height and location of this building with two larger buildings to the east and west, it creates a windtunnel that could support up to 300 pounds or so. You just lean your body and the air currents take you around. Now you go do it to that guy."
"I don't know," says the guy.
"Look," the drunk tells him, "if you don't I will, and you're down $100."
So the guy walks over, makes the bet, opens the window and plummets to his death.
The bartender looks up and says, "You're a real son of a bitch when you're drunk, Superman."
Damn, that was good. I always hated Superman.
Steve,
Aren't you at all concerned with possible tension between Comedists and "Pastafarians" (followers of the Flying Spaghetti Monster)? You could be starting thousands of years of bloodshed...
Pastafarians? Meatballs, the lot of 'em.
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