Window Snowball

 I grew up in a row home in Lancaster City.  My room was in the attic on the third floor.  When it snowed, I jumped up and down with excitement, it wasn’t because snow white was running for president.  You see, I had a secret vice.  When it snowed, I threw snowballs out of my windows at moving cars.  I never succeed in hitting a car because your window has to be open first.  Who knew?  Boywonder!  I guess that wasn’t included in my childhood playbook.  No wonder I had so many talks with frosty the snowman.  I’m so glad it wasn’t because of my horrible timing and weak arm, it feels great to be vindicated.  What a relief.

hick shooting

 

When I asked a hick, how they say I love you.  He said, let’s go racing.  When I asked him, what they say to their future father-in-law.  He said, shoot me now.  So I shot him to put him out of his misery.  Hey, its called a mercy killing and he asked for it.  I figured, why should hicks have all the fun.  Hey, he asked for it.

Cleveland Metal

 

So I was in Cleveland in 2015, I drove from Columbus Ohio to go to a baseball game because Oakland (a’s) was playing.  When the game was over I was walking toward the entrance of the covered walkways, to get to my car. The closer I got the louder the music got, it was metal.  So I went around the corner and a band was playing.  Why bother putting a sign with the band’s name on it, that’s for assholes and rookies.  I noticed the lead singer kept pumping his fist.  I thought, why sing?  When you can pantomime the lyrics.  Wow, their future is bright, Vegas is next baby.

bigfoot joke

 You know how you upset big foot?  Tell him to take off his ape suit.

another classic

The Yellow Brick Road

I’m going to be posting ruff drafts of material I have written. What you see below is a finalized version of a joke that normally kills when I do it at open mics. this is the first post in this blog in a really long time, check out my other stuff on this blog since i plan to incorporate some of it, into my comedy act. So I can make a right turn, Nascar fans on the otherhand are afraid too because they think they will be transported to the yellow brick road and have to deal with the Cowardly Lion. I mean if your favorite term is “Let’s go racing.” And everytime you say it, one of your companions jumps in the bushes and says “If I only had courage.” You wouldn’t make a right turn either. You would go get a gun and put him out of his misery. Then, when your kids ask you. “Daddy, (or mommy) what’s a coward.” You just point to the lion skin on the wall.