Deviled Ham Worshihp


Although not an actual Devil Worshipper per se,

I do try to emulate and pattern my life after the teachings

of the Underwood Deviled Ham Devil.

This isn’t always easy in today’s society.

Where we are both judged by the company we keep,

our level of devil worship,

and  our annual consumption of Deviled Ham.

Why would you give a woodpecker all your money?

Why wouldn’t you if he had a gun?

The Deviled Ham Worshippers built Stonehenge.

They also built Noah’s Ark and the Great Wall of China.

Seems like they were always building something.

However, the thing they failed to build was a bridge

of mutual trust and understanding

among the non-Deviled Ham Worshippers.

Dave to leader of Deviled Ham Worshippers:

“When are we going to build that bridge?”

Leader Deviled Ham Worshippers:

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“Do you have $20? I’d like to get some gum.”

Dave: “The woodpecker took all my money.”

like riding a bicylce


The President had just give his State of the Union Address

and everyone in the office was talking about their sex life.

This was a bit awkward as my boss Bill had just got out of prison

had not been with a woman for a while

and our company had just closed a big porno deal with the Koreans.

He had a “special” date with his ” “cousin” ” that weekend.

Frankly, he was a bit concerned if things went well

that his performance wouldn’t be up to snuff.

Fred: “Don’t worry sex is like riding a bicycle.

You just need to get back on and it will all come back to you.”

Bill  had a similar discussion with Dave who likewise replied.

“Don’t worry sex is like riding a bicycle.”

Finally, Bill went to see his boss our CEO Bob.

He opened the door to Bob’s office.

Bill: “Holy crap Bob, why are your pants down around you ankles?!!”

Bill: “And what the hell are you doing to that bicycle?!!”





As a troll it is important to manage your investment portfolio.

Our fastest growing population segment now is trolls.

Trolls are often discriminated against because of their bulging eyes

and we will soon run out of bridges for them to live under.

Trolls currently are the majority of those just entering the intersection

to make a left turn when the light has already turned red.

Trolls inevitably sneak Canadian pennies into our commerce system when

they pay for ammo at gun stores.

One time I saw a troll get a refill on his Mountain Dew at Carl’s Jr., when he had

not paid for the refill option.

In closing…

We need more trolls.

Thank you.

Lord John’s French Omelette


Lord John had the cottons

skimpy little woman briefs

in his pocket at breakfast

surprised he used to wipe

the hot sauce from his face

from her delicious

French Omelet
I used to so enjoy as did everyone…  the clink clinky clang clang
of quarters and other coins when the slot machine paid off.
But Las Vegas infidels had figured out that the light beam
in the machines that counted out the coins could be blocked
with some well-placed counter-light shine-able and jackpots could
be made to pay off until the tray filled.

All slot machines throughout the world were modified.

Now no coins. No quarters. The clink clinky clang clang  is pre-recorded.

She did not have the cottons
She was a commando waitress
and with her mini skirt length
if she dropped a quarter she just
let it be too bad slot machines
no longer took quarters

clink clinky clang clang

Casinos are private clubs, meaning they can escort you from the property for any reason.
For example if you get too hot.
Even more so, too hot without an explanation.

For those that get too hot and try to leave too fast all casinos are laid out to force
you through a “choke” point before exiting. All paths of exit narrow down to just a very
few points of exit, which can then be monitored and controlled better than a road-in on
the Soviet border. Believe me I know.
A little after 1 o’clock in the morning

Lord John reunited her

with her cottons unfortunately

by 6 am they were in the same

predicament as the previous day

Lord John needed another

French Omelet

clink clinky clang clang




It seems like everywhere I’m go “bears” are causing problems.
And sometimes even malicious mischief.

Janitor: I’m sorry sir this bathroom is closed for cleaning.
Me: Is a bear responsible for this need to clean?!!
Janitor: Yes.

Police officer after hitting me repeatedly with his baton:
“Any further comments about me looking like one of the Village People?”
Me: Did a bear put you up to this brutality?
Cop: Yes.

Abraham Lincoln’s ghost:
I was sent by my brother “Uncle Sam” to help you with your taxes.
Me: How many bears were injured in the filming of this documentary?
Abraham Lincoln’s ghost: Four score??

As I watched the news on television I couldn’t help but feel
that the current situation in Syria had been caused by a bear.
Perhaps a bear in search of honey!!

Now that I’m dead and a thousand generations have tread upon
the earth as I look down from my throne in Heaven…

Young boy to mother at circus:
Look Mommy is that bear wearing a hat?
Mother: Yes son. Yes, he is wearing a hat.
Again, what would otherwise have been a perfect day spoiled by a bear!!!

God: Hey, where did you get a throne? I want a throne.

food lies


People often make the assumption that Hamburgers were invented in Hamburg Germany.

Likewise, they presume Pizza was invented in Italy’s Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Both of these wive’s tales are untrue.

The Hamburger was invented in the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

And Pizza was invented in Hamburg Germany.

This is just an example of the many food lies we are forced to live with.


tales of the road donut


I decided to start trying my potential Halloween outfits out early this year, so on Ground Hog’s Day

I went to church dressed as a zombie.

The Priest met me with a sawed-off shotgun and said:

“Have you met God? Would you like to meet him?!!”

Me: You bet!

The next thing I know is I’m up in Heaven and there’s God rolling a 50-foot donut down the road….

using a stick like the children playing in the 1880’s.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

That God was rolling such a big donut down the road.

Such a big donut without “sprinkles.”

(Yes, Santa Claus is God.)

Later, at orientation he asked if I would like a piece of his “road donut.”

Me to self: Jesus, what is wrong with this guy?

Me politely to God: No thank you sir, I prefer “sprinkles.”

God pulled out his magic fairy wand waiving it and transforming the 50-foot “non-sprinkled” donut

into a million donut holes.

He smiled and nodded at me.

I smiled and nodded back at God.

Me to self: Jesus, what is wrong with this guy’s hearing?

I don’t know if that monkey can pilot a dirigible.

I opened my little music box and noticed that the ballerina had broken during the flight from Earth.

Yes…..Heaven was truly turning out to be Hell.