Thursday, June 30, 2011

Q: Do koalas live only in Australia?

A: That's what most people think. Most people are wrong.

You see, koalas are native to Australia, but they can live anywhere, provided they have proper habitat, safety from predators and steady supply of eucalyptus leaves. They can even live comfortably in a portable cage, like the one I have here. Most people don't know that. I like to educate.

Most people think that koalas spend their time getting high on eucalyptus leaves and sleeping twenty-three hours a day. Most people are wrong.

Sure, koalas tend to live that lifestyle, but they can adapt, they can change, they can sleep one hour a day and spend the rest of their time alert, gnawing on eucalyptus and ready to strike. It helps to lace the leaves with amphetamines. It helps to keep the cage cramped.

Most people think that koalas are cute and cuddly; adorable animals safe to keep as pets. Most people are wrong.

Koalas are bears. Like all bears, they are by nature vicious, mean, aggressive and fiercely protective of their young. Like all bears, they hate to be caged.

You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all this. Well, you see, my army of koalas think your toupee is their child. The lack of sleep makes them pretty suggestible.

You should probably sign that contract now. This cage is getting pretty heavy.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Q: What should you put on a rash?

A: Son, remember when I woke you up in the middle of the night and told you not to worry but we had to leave now, right now, and we ran out of the house and you asked what happened to Mom and I told you to keep running and not to worry and we ran down the street and past all those people on the ground and you asked if they were sleeping and I told you to keeping running and not to worry and that man jumped out of the woods and you asked why his face looked like that and I told you to keep running and not to worry and he bit you and I shot him and I told you to keep running and not to worry?

Well, now it's time to worry.

Q: What is the proper attire for a jazz dance class?

A: Some folks choose to go all out and come to class in full costume. Others opt for functionality and wear tights and leg warmers and a headband. Most show up up in a ratty t-shirt and gym shirts.

But no matter what outfit you choose, the one thing you can't wear is blackface.

I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Or at least wash your face.

I'm sorry, your deposit is non-refundable. You'll have to find some other way to pay for your burnt cork.

Q: What questions would be asked in an interview for a cartoonist?

A: Generally, they ask about your experience, your ideas and your ability to meet deadlines. They'll probably ask about your influences and your process, get a sense of your humor, that sort of thing.

In your case, I suspect they may get more specific. They'll probably want to know about your arms. They'll probably ask some questions about them. Questions like,

"How did you lose your arms?"
"How did losing your arms affect your cartooning?"
"Are robot arms a common prosthetic?"
"How powerful are your robot arms?"
"Could you crush a man with your robot arms?"
"Have you ever crushed a man with your robot arms, like an editor or publisher?"

Yup, they'll probably focus on that.

That might also ask if you can draw anything other than robot porn.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Q: Is it true that the lighter you are it takes a longer time for weed to leave your system?

A: If you are lighter because you are skinny and have few fat cells to store the THC, yes.

If you are lighter because you hacked off your arm with a meat cleaver, no.

Q: How long would it take to sail from Los Angeles to the Dominican Republic?

A: With this wind and these calm waters, about 10 days.

Oh the places we'll go.

Oh, the sights we'll see.

Oh the friends we'll make - mostly imaginary.

There are few people here on the sea.

Fewer still who want to befriend a trio of drifters on the lam, looking to make their fortune selling candy bars to school children in the Dominican.

Fewer still who will want to befriend a trio of drifters on the lam, looking to make their fortune selling candy bars to school children in the Dominican, who intend to sail all the way there in a wash tub.

Well, we may be lonely, and we may be smelly, and we may lose our minds after prolonged exposure to the sun, but we'll always have a great story to -

 - Hal, did you eat all the candy bars?

WHAT THE FUCK?

Q: What good colleges can you get into?

A: I can get into NYU, because I made a series of award-winning snuff films. They all made the papers. At least after my acquittal.

Or I could get into Vanderbilt, study hotel management, because of my high GPA, my solid ACT score and my years of distinguished service at Motel 6.

I could get into Arizona State, because I filled out the application.

But I'll probably go to Yale, because of the school President's fondness for underage boys. And my talents as a photographer.

Q: What are the factors causing decline of biodiversity?

A: Well, the plants are dying. The pesticides we brought killed them. Ironically, the pesticides didn't kill the bugs. They made the bugs stronger. Faster. Meaner.

The bugs ate the livestock. The bugs ate the birds. The bugs ate the lab animals. The bugs ate Jennings, the lab tech. The bugs got the thirst for human blood.

There's not many of us left now, Spiros, just you and me. And the bugs. All those bugs. The bugs and nothing else. That's not biodiversity, that's bioscarcity.

When they write the history of BioSphere 4, they'll blame the sudden, cataclysmic decline on biodiversity on any number of factors: poor planning, shoddy construction, improper pesticides, our decision to stock the sphere with insects discovered in a smoking crater from the Mojave Desert. But those aren't the real reason.

The real reason is the lack of air. We made the place air tight. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Another good idea would have been to install some oxygen tanks so we'd have something to breathe. The lack of oxygen really clouded our thinking. We really haven't done anything right since.

If we make it out of here, and I get a chance to design BioSphere 4 - as God as my witness - I will not make that mistake again. I will use my construction budget for actual construction, construction of the Sphere, construction of a life support system, instead of construction of a false identity that allowed us to jet around the world, living the high life and bedding models from Eastern Europe.

Those were the days, Spiros.

Spiros, you have a bug for a head.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Q: Is it normal for husband to flirt with his cousins?

A: In most families, yes. But, as you will find out, we are not like most families.

For one thing, most families live in houses. Our family lives in a well.

Most families hold down jobs, or start companies, or make their money living off the government. Our family makes it's money rifling through the pockets of cityfolk who fall down our well.

Most families buy their food at the store, and they eat regular meals together every night. Our family finds their food in the well and we eat just as soon as the cityfolk stop kicking.

Most families socialize with other families and encourage cousins not to sleep with each other once they reach puberty. Our family doesn't mingle much. And we don't tell our children what to do in their private time.

Yup, our family is pretty peculiar, but you'll grown accustomed to our eccentricities. Give your husband a little room to breathe. Sure, he may flirt with his cousins, but once he's had his fun, he's coming back to this rock to be with you. He'll make the happiest wife in the whole damn world.

At least until a prettier girl falls down the well.

Q: Why does a mouse bind its head?

A: When that mouse came into the village, he came on a mission of peace, on a fact finding mission. He came to do no harm. He came to observe. What he saw made him sick.

He saw other mice mistreated, abused, slaughtered. He watched his best friend die, blown to pieces by a landmine. He had his new found love die in his arms, a victim of a bullet meant for him. He saw corruption and sadism on a grand scale. He saw a land where life had no meaning.

That mouse had enough. He decided to stand up for those who can not stand, fight back for those who can not fight. That mouse decided to wage a one-man war against tyranny and oppression.

That's why he tied his boats real tight. That's why he slid that knife into the sheath so hard. That's why he donned that red bandanna.  A mouse binds his head because he means business. That mouse means business.

We should probably kill him before he fires that flaming arrow.

Q: What is the difference between otter box and body armor?

A: Body armor protects. It will prevent puncture wounds. It will deflect knives. It will stop bullets. Body armor will save your life.

An otter box is a shoe box full of otters. In theory, it might help you - if the otters were rabid, or hungry or trained to kill. But we don't live in theory. We live in reality. And in reality, all your otters are dead. A shoe box full of dead otters won't protect a thing.

Knowing all that, which would you rather have, the body armor or the otter box?

Choose again.

Try again.

One more time. Really think about it this time.

Is that your final choice?

Okay.

We can't allow you to work on the President's protection detail. That job requires the ability to take a bullet for the President. That ability requires a understanding of what body armor does.

Thank you for your time. Best of luck in your future endeavors.

Don't forget your otters.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Q: What is cracked agate?

A: At first I thought it was some bizarre threat, or maybe it's a new drug, or popular music act - I'm so out of touch with today's music. I realized it could mean nothing, plain nothing. Gibberish. Kids today love to shout random gibberish at the top of their lungs. They think it's funny.

I realized I might have misheard him. He's talking real fast, running his words together. I noticed he's slurring some.

Then I saw the gate to my yard. What was left of it.

Then I saw the front of his car. And the rest of my gate.

Then I realized what he said.

Cracked a gate makes a lot of sense now.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Q: Where are the blow holes located?

A: This is your first time doing this sort of thing, isn't it?

I can tell. You seem a bit nervous. And overdressed.

First thing: relax. Take a deep breath. You're going to have a good time.

You'll find the holes in the men's room. Pick a stall. Can't miss them. You'll know them when you see them.

One more thing: they're called Glory Holes.

Knock yourself out.

Q; How to summarize the short story apples from the desert?

A: Start with the apples. Describe their color, their texture, how they taste. Now, the desert. Make them feel the heat, the sand, the dryness. Talk about the girl in the story - every story has a girl, all the good ones.

Remember to talk slowly, really space out your words. If said properly, the phrase "The blistering sun," could take up a a good twelve seconds of your presentation. Don't be afraid of silence. It's the most important tool of every great storyteller. And what is a book report, really, but a story about a story?

If you speak slowly enough, take enough pauses, describe the apples and the desert in enough detail, stopping every now and then for a drink of water, you should be able to kill enough time to be saved by the bell, giving you an extra night to actually read the story.

Or, you could read it right now, on the bus. But then you wouldn't have time to sniff this rag soaked in paint thinner. When you're on your death bed, when you look back on your years in middle school, are you really going to wish that you spent more time studying, or more time huffing?

Q: What is the following limit on twitter?

A: You can follow as many people as you like, for as long as you care, with any computer, smartphone, tablet or wireless device you choose.

As long as you only follow them on the internet, from the comfort of your own home.

Once you start following people in person - in groceries stores, shopping malls, comic-book conventions, at youth-league soccer games, up the stairs of their home as they flee, as they throw lamps and vases and tables and pets behind them to slow your pursuit - you are no longer engaging in a "free wheeling exchange of ideas," you are engaging in stalking.

We have laws against that. Not pretend, internet laws that result in "Unfollows" and "Defriending," but real, enforceable laws that result in arrest and incarceration.

So I'm going to need you to step away from the door, drop your iPad, put your hands behind your head and face the wall.

Yes, I do have a twitter feed. You can follow me at @ItchyTriggerFinger. Would you like to guess why I use that name? I'll give you a hint: it's not rash related.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Q: Is it bad to have really long hair in the army?

A: If there's one thing the Army loves, it's long, lustrous hair. That, and personal expression. We feel that every soldier should have two basic rights:
               
                   1.) The right to express their personality in any way they see fit.
                   2.) The right to proudly display their glorious, flowing locks of hair.

What would cripple the morale of an opposing army faster,  an overwhelming display of force by wave after wave of bland, generic, clean-cut drones, or a six hour long interpretative dance performed by a merry band of colorful free-spirits?

Clearly the free-spirits would have the edge.

In fact, I think your hair isn't long enough. We ought to put in some extensions - really style it up, make you look fabulous.

Have a seat in this chair and we'll get to work. This will be great. We could even frost your tips.

Close your eyes, I want this to be surprise.

I don't hear any buzzing. You must be hearing something.

Electric razor? I don't even know what those words mean.

KEEP YOUR EYES CLOSED, MAGGOT!

Q: How do you stop a horse from fighting you when putting on a bridle?

A: Approach her real gently, all quiet-like. Stroke her neck softy. Whisper into her ear. Tell her it won't hurt a bit. That it's for the best. That she'll grow to love it.

Give her a sugar cube.

Show her the bridle. Let her smell it, touch it, get comfortable with it.

Make large, slow movements. Nothing sudden. Nothing jumpy.

Slide the bridle on, slow as can be. Maintain eye contact the whole time. Once it's all the way on, fasten the snap, stoke her neck one last time and give her a kiss on the lips.

Hand the reigns over to the stranger who's about to mount her, collect the money and start the camera.

That's how it works with my wife. I figure it should be about the same with a horse.

Q: What would happen to the license of a driver who has involved in an accident and did not stop to help persons who got injured?

A: Is this a hypothetical question?

Or, is there something you want to tell me? I ask because you seem to be upset; you're shaking, you're sweating and you've been hysterically crying since you walked in the door. That's not like you.

It's also not like you to park in the yard. Usually, you park in the garage. So, that's odd.

I also find it odd that you tracked all that blood and broken glass into the house. You know how I feel about broken glass in the house. It makes it hard for me to walk around barefoot. You know that. I assumed you knew how I felt about blood in the house. But, since I never sat down and told you, I can't hold it against you.

For the record, I am against it.

Based on the blood, and the broken glass, and your hysterical crying, and the child stuck to your bumper, I'm going to assume that the driver in question is you. If that's the case, if my assumption is correct, your license will be revoked.

Not that you'll need a license where you're going.

You're going to the basement, to hide for a few years until this whole thing blows over. It will be just like when you were a kid, except we won't have to worry about your mother badgering me with all those questions about where you are. I hated having to lie to her.

Now, get down in the basement. Your cage is exactly how you left it. I didn't touch a thing. Not even your cat. She's probably dead now. But, at least you'll have something to eat.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Q: What foods go off most quickly?

A: Son, this is kind of awkward.

All those years we spent playing soldier in the backyard, we were doing that - playing. We weren't invading anyone, or defending anything. We were having some fun, a father and son, bonding, laughing, safe in the world of make-believe.

I thought you understood that.

When I bit the stem off an apple and tossed it over the house like a grenade, I was playing. It didn't really explode. I made that sound. With my mouth.

Apples don't explode. Bananas aren't dynamite. Gourds aren't olde-tyme grenades. Watermelons won't annihilate an entire village. Fruit won't kill anyone.

Sooo, you might want to reconsider your plan to take the whole town hostage with your fruit arsenal. Because it's not going to work. Everyone will laugh at you.

Haven't you had enough of that by now?

Q: What advantages do chicken have over beef?

A: Chickens are smart. They're strong. They're fast. They know how to fight.

They know how to kill.

When backed in a corner, they will attack, with reckless abandon - wings flapping, beak snapping, claws tearing - until they can't attack anymore.

They don't walk in a circle, lie down and wait to be slaughtered. That's what cows do. As you just saw.

But that's typical of a dairy farmer, bringing a cow to a cock fight.

Q: How do you borrow money from a child's beneficiary annuity?

A: If you need money, Daddy, you can ask me. You don't need to go behind my back and steal from my future.

Did you lose at the track again? Is that why you need money?

You know you shouldn't bet based on the horse's name. They give the best names to the worst horses. That's how they get you.

Don't cry, Daddy. It's okay. I'll give you money if you need it. You can have all the money in my piggy bank. I was saving up to buy a Barbie Glam Convertible, but it can wait. You need thumbs more than Barbie needs a car.

Take whatever you need. Don't feel bad. Everyone makes mistakes.

Just don't make the mistake of not paying me back. You have no idea what I've had to do to get that money. If you try to stiff me, I'm going to take a lot more than your thumbs.

Good night, Daddy. I love you.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Q: Why do you get drowsy in the afternoon?

A: I wake up early most days, around 6:30AM. I write for an hour, jog for twenty minutes, check my emails, walk the dog, make breakfast, take a shower, get dressed, climb into the car and head to work.

I drink my first bottle of scotch in the car on the way to work.

I drink my second bottle during the 10:30 conference call with the execs in Phoenix and Vancouver. Now, these are small bottle we're talking about, only 750ml, so I'm only a little buzzed. I'm not guzzling handles of booze in the morning. It's not like I have a problem or anything.

After the call, I sneak out for an early lunch, where I throw back about four or five tequila shots, a couple of beers and a plate of chicken wings - need to get my energy up for my meeting with the Art Department.

The guys in the Art Department have the best weed. Those meetings generally run about two hours.Three if someone brought chips. By this point, I've been up for almost 10 hours straight. As you can imagine, I;m pretty tired. And pretty hammered. That's why I like to take a nap. I find that I sleep better in a hammock. I used to crawl under my desk, but then I'd just get cranky. Nobody wants me to come to the 6PM staff meeting cranky, do they?

I didn't think so. Now let's order that hammock and installed.

I don't care if we don't have a line item for hammocks in the budget. Make it work. If you need to free up some money, get rid of Jenkins. I have no idea what he does.

You're Jenkins? Then who is that over there? The fat guy with the green skin who sits at his desk all day and doesn't move?

A statue of our founder? I've been calling that thing Jenkins for months. I feel like an asshole.

So, Jenkins, how about that hammock?

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Q: Who creates the standard style guide for a research paper?

A: Usually the teacher. Occasionally the dean. Sometimes a charismatic student.

In our case Billy. Billy sets all the standards.You don't know Billy? That's right, you're new.  He's the boy over there, on the monkey bars.

DON'T MAKE EYE CONTACT!

Think pure thoughts. Think pure thoughts.

That was close.

Billy is what we call ... gifted. He's a very special boy. A wonderful, special, little boy. About a month ago, he discovered he has the most amazing powers. He can control matter. He can control life. Anything he can think of, he can do. He's a wonderful little boy.We're lucky to have him.

He's looking at us. Smile. Smile.

A couple weeks ago, we had a priest come by to talk to Billy, to see if he maybe had any ... visitors ... in his soul. Billy struck the man blind. Then he gave him back his sight. Then he laughed and laughed and laughed. Since then, we've let Billy make all the decisions. We feel that's for the best. If he wants recess to last for six hours, then recess lasts for six hours. If he wants all research papers to be written in Sanskrit on used toilet paper, then we'll start teaching Sanskrit and stop flushing. If he wants to have the teachers battle each other in gladiator style combat, to the death, each day at lunch, who are we to argue? He knows best.

Yes, life under Billy's rule has been wonderful, just wonderful. You'll like it here. I've worked at a lot of schools, but this one - His back is turned. We can overwhelm him and regain control. It's our only hope. You go first. I'll create a distraction. Go. Go. Go. Go.

LOOK OUT, BILLY! THE NEW SCIENCE TEACHER IS COMING TO KILL YOU!

Q: How can I find out if a deceased family member had any life insurance?

A: Oh dear.

You could hire a private detective to dig into their personal lives, interview everyone they've ever known, follow their life from birth to death - basically learn everything about them.

Or, you could find out while they are still alive. Walk right up to them and ask. Something like, "Hey, Dad, do you have any life insurance?" That would be easier than all that private detective nonsense. If he does have life insurance, you could ask "Am I the beneficiary?"

If you are the beneficiary, then you push him in front of the train. Once that train hits him, the "information gathering" portion of our plan has expired, and the "making it look like an accident and creating a credible alibi" portion has begun.

I probably should have explained all this to you earlier. It was unfair of me to assume that you knew how to commit insurance fraud. Oh, well, we'll get it right next time.

Speaking of ... Does your mother happen to have life insurance naming you as the beneficiary? And would she happen to enjoy any high risk hobbies, like skydiving, or hang-gliding or making toast in the tub?

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Q: What is a moderate party?

A: A party where no one's really bored, but no one's really having any fun. The food is acceptable, the music inoffensive, the guests a step above dull. Everyone looks nice, but they're looked better. A party where most of the men haven't shaved and all the ladies threw their hair in a bun and wore flats. The kind of party everyone will forget about in a week.

If I had to give a concrete example of such a party, it would be this wedding. It's nice and all, but it just feels like a waste of time. Not to say that you don't look beautiful, because you do, and so does Brad. It's just that, well, we've all been partying pretty hard all weekend and no one has any energy today. The thought of sitting through a bunch of toasts full of inside jokes and watching old people shuffle around the dance floor makes us want to gouge our eyes out with our salad forks. God, even these salad forks are forgettable.

If you don't mind, we're all going to duck out early. We're all going to leave at once, so it's less of a distraction. There's another wedding down the street that looks like a lot of fun. They have a live band and everything. We'll let you know if it's any good and maybe you can swing by when you're done with all this.

Let us know how everything goes, especially that whole "I do" part. Text us or something. Can't wait to hear!

Q: What is the best way to flush THC out of your body?

A: I really can't say. I'm not the THC expert you take me as. You're probably confused. 

You probably think you're still talking to your friend Will, still pulling over to the side of the road, freaking out, trying to hide the weed before the cop gets to the car. 

I want you to do something for me: Take a look to your right and tell me who you see. Who's sitting right there next to you?

That's right, it's your friend Will. Now, take a moment, think this over - who does that make me? I'm not Will, so I must be the ...?

Nope, not Smokey Bear. You're just saying that because of the hat.

Take another guess. Look lower. You'll notice I have a badge, as well as a gun. Who does that make me?

That's right! I'm the cop who pulled you over. Good job! Now, do you know why I pulled you over?

No, it wasn't to say hi. I pulled you over because you drove through that farmer's market - that's right, the one that smelled like cookies - and ran over 4 people. You would have hit more, but you were only driving 6 miles per hour. Most people saw you coming. 

I'm going to go out on a limb and say you might have been driving impaired. You're in some trouble. I'm gonna need to draw some blood, to determine just how much trouble we're talking about.

Calm down now. Don't try to drive away. That's not going to work. I want you to do me another favor: Take a look beneath you, behind you. What do you see?

That's right! A bench and a room full of criminals. Did you have those in your car? 

No, you didn't. Which means you're not in your car, but in the  ... ? 

That's right! Police station. You're in the police station. So it's probably a little too late to worry about flushing those drugs out of your system. It's probably time to get a lawyer.

That's not your lawyer. That's a plate of chocolate chip cookies. My wife made them. They're for everyone. Please stop eating them. 

Q: What is the transfer movement of heat from one substance to another through direct touch?

A: That sensation you describe is a direct result of sexual intercourse. It is the end result. It means I'm finished.

Don't act so surprised. What did you think we've been doing for the past eight minutes? Cuddling?

Cuddling? Seriously?

You thought we were cuddling? Naked? In the break room? With parts of me inside parts of you? That's what you consider cuddling?

You know what you call "cuddling" the rest of the world calls "sex" right?

Well, what do you call "sex"?

Oh.

I've never done that. How does that even work? Why would the guy enjoy that? Don't you worry about the horse crushing you?

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Q: What do boys find attractive in girls?

A: Women are like rainbows: no two are the same and they are all beautiful.

Wait, I'm thinking of snowflakes. Women are like snowflakes: beautiful from a distance, but cold at heart. And, if you hold them too long, they disappear

That doesn't sound right either.

Women are like subway trains: Some are old, some are new, they all kind of smell funny, you have no clue who's been riding them, but, if you're patient and not too particular, they'll get you where you need to go.

When I say that out loud, it sounds kind of insulting.

Women are like bears. They're just as scared of you as you are of them. They will fiercely protect their young.  They spend most of their time sleeping and stealing food from campsites.

No. That's actually bears.

I know I had something to say about women.

Oh, yes, I have it.

All women have something that makes them attractive: their eyes, their smile, their skin, their body, their mind, their wit, their charm, their flexibility, their inheritance - for every kind of girl, there's a boy who likes them.

So, don't worry too much about what boys like. Just be yourself and sooner or later, you'll find someone who likes you for you. That's the best kind of like there is.

Although it doesn't hurt to dress a little slutty. And don't be afraid to put out - boys like that. But not too much or too soon - boys don't like that.

There is one thing that all boys will like: your desire to bring your hot friend into the bedroom for a three-way. Unless your hot friend is a guy. That's just gross.

Q: How do you prevent from dipping your shoulder when you bat?

A: My son used to have the same problem. Every at-bat he'd get behind in the count, start pressing, and try to win the game with one swing. He'd dip his back shoulder, flail at the ball. Pretty soon he struck out every time he stepped to the plate.

I don't have to tell you how embarrassing that can be.

We tried everything: special bats, braces, hitting coaches, personal trainer, sports psychologist - we even pulled him out of school to help him focus on the game. Nothing worked. He kept dipping his shoulder, he kept striking out. It got to the point that I had to stop bringing dates to the game. That boy was ruining my social life.

I realized I was being too hard on him, that I had taken the fun out of the game. It's a game, right? It's supposed to be fun. I figured I needed to do something to help him relax, to help him take his mind of hitting, to help him get out of his own damned head.

I bought him a puppy, a beautiful Golden. I pulled him out of practice, let him miss a few games and do nothing but spend time with his puppy. He played with that dog all day and all night. They played fetch. They ran through the woods. He even took that dog fishing. It got to the point where that dog was his best friend in the world.

That night, I kidnapped that dog. When my son woke up the next morning he found a note:
                                               
                                      If you ever strike out again,
                                            the dog dies
                                                           - A Fan

Since then, he's like a whole new person, so driven, so focused. He's been crushing the ball. He's completely cured of dipping his shoulder.

He's far and away the best hitter in his Little League. I've started bringing dates to the game again. Those high school girls love to party with a winner.

Q: What sense organs work together when you cooking?

A: While strong senses of taste and smell are valuable to any aspiring chef, you shouldn't underestimate the importance of refined sense of touch.; it can give your cooking a sensual quality that will help it stand apart from everyday fare.

If you don't have an exquisite sense of touch, hopefully you have at least a vague sense; it will prevent you from burning yourself on a hot stove or scalding your hands with boiling water.

Unfortunately, you seem to have no sense of touch. You appear to be totally numb. Otherwise, you would have noticed that you chopped off your fingers while dicing the onions.

Your sense of hearing must be pretty bad too, because you don't seem to notice the entire studio audience screaming.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Q: Are sea stars flexible?

A: Yes, as long as they are still wet. When they are dry, they break.

Throwing stars are never flexible, wet or dry.

Please stop breaking my throwing stars.

Q: What can we do to help a polar bear?

A: You can't do much now but stand in the corner and wait for the tag. Make sure to hold onto that tag rope, otherwise the tag won't count.

I know you want to jump into the ring and start beating on your opponents and helping the bear, but you can't do it. The referee will drag you back to the corner, turning his back on your foes, giving them the chance to cheat and beat on the bear some more. You'd be doing more harm than good. You'll have to be patient and wait for that tag.

Once he tags you, then you can fight. You can vault right over that top rope like a house afire - fists pumping, knees churning, heart racing - kick some ass, win the match, raise those glorious tag-team championship belts over your head, and finally win the respect of your father.

Of course, you may be waiting for that tag for some time. The polar bear doesn't seem to understand the rules of tag team wrestling.

I hate to be the guy who says "I told you so," but I did tell you choosing a polar bear as your tag team partner was a terrible idea. A bear might be a natural wrestler, but no bear, not even the smartest and toughest one, has any experience with tag team wrestling. It's a completely different kind of wrestling, one he clearly does not understand.

I bet he doesn't even know he's in a fight. That would explain why he spends most of his time wandering around, scratching himself and letting them beat on him. He probably thinks it's cute.

And now he's taking a nap.

Might be a while before you get that tag. Might be time to start brainstorming other ways to impress your dad.

Q: How would you go beyond customer service?

A: Greeting the customer with a smile? Answering all their questions to the best of my ability? Making their satisfaction my highest priority? Helping them find whatever they need? Offering to help them carry their purchases out of the store?

For amateurs. Anyone can do that.

What I do, what you need, what this company lacks, is true customer service, the ability to anticipate the customer's every question, every need, every desire. To know what they want before they want it. To have what they need before before they need it, before they even know they need it.

How do I do it? It's not simple and it's not easy. I get inside their mind, inside their skin. I follow them home. I look through their windows. I learn their security codes. By searching their emails, reading their mail, auditing their finances, talking to their parents, playing with their children, dating their ex-lovers and wearing their clothes, I am able to become like them. I am able to become them. I am able to provide the greatest customer service you could ever imagine.

I don't see what that would be creepy? Which part do you find creepy? When I talk to the kids? When I where their clothes? When I steal their identities to visit museums? When I take hair from their combs to make wigs? Is it when I sleep with the ex-lovers? Some folks find that extreme, but in my defense, I am dedicated to my craft.

All of it? You find all of it creepy?

I don't know what to say. I thought your organization valued customer service. If all you want is someone to plant a fake smile on his face and pretend to like people, then I suggest you hire a monkey. Because that is a job for a monkey. I was not aware that McDonald's employed monkeys. When you're ready to provide real customer service, give me a call.

Just don't wait to long. I have an interview this afternoon at Burger King. I have a feeling that they'll have a greater appreciation for my talents.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Q: What materials are good for pipes?

A: Fruits. Vegetables. Tissue paper. Tiny pieces of cracker. Really anything small and soft and that will decompose and sluice through drains would be fine.

You know what's not good for pipes: chunks of dead hooker. Hundreds of bloody, messy chunks. All that bone and hair, that's gonna ruin your pipes and mess up your plumbing all over the house. But, I don't need to tell you that, you found that one out for yourself.

I don't know which is more appalling, that you murdered all these women, or that you were too lazy to chop them into smaller pieces. Did you really think you could flush an entire leg down the toilet? Or wash a head down the drain in the shower? Are you crazy or something?

Don't answer that question. I don't want to know. I'm here to fix your pipes, not write your biography.

Q: Who are the next two people to take over if the president should die?

A: If anything should happen to the President and he is unable to fulfill the duties of his office, one person would take over. One, not two.

One.

That one person would be the Vice President of the United States.

That one person would be you, Mr. Biden.

I assumed that was explained to you during the transition, or during the election, or you had stumbled across that information at some point during your twenty plus years in the Senate.

If anything happens to the President, then you become the President. You get to sit in the Oval Office, you get to make the decisions, you get the nuclear codes. Everything rests on your shoulders.

I'm going to need you to pull yourself together, sir. Please stop crying. Everything is going to be okay. The President is young and fit - nothing is going to happen to him.

If anything does happen to him, you'll have tons of support - all your friends will be there, we'll help you with your speeches and meetings, we'll show you around the White House so you don't get locked in the closet again, and, you can eat all the ice cream you want, all day long. You can even have ice cream for breakfast!

Doesn't that sound fun?

Wonderful. Now go to bed and get a good night's sleep.  You have a big day of gaffes tomorrow and you'll need your rest.

Q: What do you call a get together for the bride to be for the second marriage?

A: We're still deciding. We're having a banner made for Jen' party and we don't know what it should say.

"Happy Bachelorette Party!" seems a little trite.

"Happy Bachelorette Party 2.0, This Time It's Forever!" might sound like we're mocking her.

Trudy suggested we call it a  "Celebration of Love / Self Defense Seminar," but we really want to avoid any mention of her previous marriage. But, we will give her some coupons for self-defense classes, just in case. Her new fiance seems like a nice guy, but you can never can be too careful. Jen does have a certain type.

I like "Half Of All Marriage End In Divorce - Statistically Speaking, This One is Bound to Succeed!" but I was overruled. People don't like to mix math with their parties.

"Happy Weekend Obligation to Support Our Insecure Friend!" really hits the nail on the head, but I worry it might really upset Jen, due to her painful insecurities. She's pretty needy. I mean, she just met this guy three months ago and they're already getting married. She's been divorced less than a year. I haven't even had a boyfriend in four years. Would it kill her to be alone for a bit?

You know what? We're going to keep it simple and call it a Bachelorette Party. I'll have the banner say, "Happy Bachelorette Party, Jen!"

I'll order two banners. I have a feeling we'll need another one next year.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Q: What is a collapse plot?

A: I guess the jig is up. I might as well come clean.

A collapse plot, rather, my collapse plot was plan, eight months in the making, to kill you and take your money. It was a pretty ingenious plan. I'm not just saying that because it was my plan, I'm basing my assessment solely on the plan itself. Specifically on it's ingenious nature.

First I'd bump into you at the supermarket, then I'd befriend you, gain your confidence, insinuate myself into every nook of your life, create conflict between you and your loved ones, slowly strip away all stability in your life, until I was your only friend and you had no choice but to name me as your sole heir, I lure you into the woods, where you would "accidentally" stumble into a pit full of sharp sticks, old bear traps broken glass, allowing me to collect my inheritance.

As you are now aware, my plan did not go as smoothly as I hoped. Perhaps my excitement got the better of me. Perhaps I shouldn't have marked the pit with a large, neon X. Perhaps I shouldn't have shouted "THE COLLAPSE PLOT CONCLUDES!" as you approached the pit. Perhaps my diabolical laugh was a mistake.  Perhaps I shouldn't have hired that marching band, and those cheerleaders, and had all those balloons drop from the trees. I realize now that I may have alerted you a little too soon.

Judging from the look on your face and the gun in your hand, I'm assuming there will be some changes in your will. I understand. But, if I may make one request: Before you shoot me, please help me clean up these balloons. All that latex is bad for the environment. Plus, I rented them from a party store and I'd really like to get my deposit back.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Q: What are the dimensions of a hay bale?

A: Hay bales exist in the first, second and third dimension, exclusively. Hay bales cannot travel through time.

I'm sorry to disappoint you. I know that your brother's death in that flood still haunts you, but you have to face reality: You can't save him by sending bales of hale back through time.

You'll have to think of something else, maybe a personal time machine, maybe a letter that can travel through time, maybe an enchanted Etch-A-Sketch that lets you draw the world as you want it.

I don't care what it is, as long as it keeps you occupied and out of the house. All that mourning your dead brother crap is really killing my buzz.

Q: Why does the rear glass stay dry when driving fast in the rain?

A: There is no rear glass. The cops shot out the window five minutes ago. That's why I screamed. That's why I told you to speed up. That's why Murray made that "Argh!" sound. That's why he grabbed his neck. That's why he started bleeding all over the car.

Don't you remember any of this? It just happened. Have you been paying attention at all?

I don't mean to be a dick, but is this your first day as a getaway driver?

I thought so.

Where did we find you?

I had no idea Craigslist had a section for Criminal Services. That seems like a bad idea.

Well, okay then. Here's a little crash course in getaway driving: Focus on the road, not the radio. Go as fast as you can. Don't worry about speeding, or red lights, or tailgating - moving violations are the least of your troubles. Try weaving a bit, but not too much. And, please, for the love of God, stop using your turn signals.

Q: How much weight can you lose in a week?

A: Ever since I reached adulthood and stopped growing vertically; I have grown horizontally - then shrunk, then grown again, then shrunk, shrunk more, grown again, and again, still more growing, then a large dramatic shrink ... I could go on like this for hours; let's just say that I have experienced significant fluctuations in weight over the past 20 years.

With a strict diet and vigorous exercise, I once lost 20 pounds in a week. To celebrate, I ate a whole pizza while bathing in caramel. To my surprise, the weight came back.

One time I lost 6 pounds in a day, simply by removing my soiled pants. Here's a hint: If you take a girl home from a bar with the intent of performing the sex act with her, don't tell her that story. She will not be impressed. Showing her the pants will only amplify her horror.

A few years back, I lost 38 pounds in three minutes, without diet, exercise or removing any clothes, when a shark bit my leg off. As a result of the attack, the Boston Aquarium now bans visitors from chumming the water. At least some good came of the attack, in addition to the weight loss.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Q: What guy should you choose?

A: It's a sad fact of life that most men will break your heart. They can't help it, it's their nature. They're hunters, hardwired for centuries to seek the most desirable mate, no matter the situation, no matter their relationship status, no matter how crazy the potential mate might be.

You want a guy who's not like that, a man too lazy to hunt, too self-conscious to approach new mates, too insecure to put a fight when you demand he change, too afraid to question your actions, too timid to stand up to you when you abuse him, too self-involved to realize that you have been cheating on him and spending his money on lavish affairs with your multiple beaus, too slow to outrun the police should you get into trouble, too loyal to ever testify against you, too trusting to predict your eventual betrayal, too sad to do much more than cry once you break his heart.

Find a man like that and he'll keep you entertained until you find someone better.

The Fake Answers he writes will be an added bonus.

Q: How do horses greet one another?

A: First they circle around each other, shy at first, then bolder. They move closer, exchange a whinny, a nod of the head, a flick of the tail. Soon, they're rubbing their necks against each other, smelling hair, making friends. Once they've established a level of comfort, the guys who make up the back of the horses get out and shake hands. Then they all stand around, cool off, and bitch about picking such stupid costumes.

I should have mentioned this before, but all my experiences with horses have been at Halloween parties. I assume real horses act the same way. There's probably less drinking.

Q: Is it safe to mix gasoline with Dawn detergent?

A: Absolutely. I've been mixing gasoline and Dawn detergent for years and I've never had a problem. Unless you consider sparkling clean whites a problem, and you shouldn't, because it's not. Nope, no problems at all.

Although, now that I think about it, my father spontaneously combusted  moments after donning a freshlylaundered sweat suit. One minute he's enjoying his traditional pre-jog cigarette, the next he's on fire, running and flailing and screaming. Those screams. Oh, those screams. I've never heard a man scream like that before.

Except for when my grandfather died. He screamed, too. The most horrible, awful screams.  Can't say I blame him, being on fire like that can't exactly feel like a hug. Come to think of it, he was wearing a bath robe fresh from the wash - he hated dry clothes - when he burst into flames.

My uncle also died in a laundry related fire. He wasn't wearing anything, he was just standing by the washing machine, cooking a grilled cheese on his hot plate, when he exploded, along with the washing machine and the hot plate.

Looking back, every death in my family has been the result of spontaneous combustion, and my blend of Dawn detergent and gasoline was involved every time. I'm beginning to notice a patter here.

I think that Dawn detergent's a killer. Better start mixing my gasoline with Tide.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Q: What can I say to my girlfriend if she's crying?

A: Tell her you're sorry. Lead with it, end with it, and toss it in a few times in the middle. Tell her you'll change, that you'll never do that again, whatever thing it was that made her mad. You don't even have to know it is that you did, just promise to never do it again. If you have a dead relative, swear on his grave.

Tell her she looks beautiful, that you love her, that she's the most amazing woman in the world and any guy would be lucky to have her. Remind her that you are a man, and are therefore stupid. You didn't mean to say whatever it was you said that made her angry. Tell her you love her again. Throw in a sorry.

Hug her. Hold her tight. Think of the nicest thing you can possibly say about her, make it ten percent nicer, then whisper it into her ear.

This is not the time to compliment her breasts. Or say something like, "Maybe you'll feel better if you lost a little weight."

Tell her that her friends don't understand her. Tell her that everything is going to be okay. Remind her that you love her. Tell her these things happen, whatever these things may be. Tell her that other people's opinions don't matter, only the opinions of her loved ones, people like you. Remind her that you love her.

Tell her you're sorry one more time.

If, after all that - all the apologies and promises and declarations of love and listening and advice and understanding and hugging - she's still crying, put your car in reverse and back up a few feet. You might have parked on her foot.

Q: What does s on a camera mean?

A: It means the camera belongs to Superman. Just like that tripod, and that football, and that Pez dispenser.

No, you can't have it. This is The Fortress of Solitude, not a junk yard. For the World's Greatest Detective, you can be pretty thick sometimes.

You've been pretty slow all day, asking all those dumb questions like "What does this S mean?" and "How come that guy's in his underwear?" and "Hey Superman, how come you don't go home to Krypton no more?"

You know Superman. You know that Krypton was destroyed and Superman's parents died. You know how touchy Superman is about the destruction of Krypton and the death of his parents.

I mean, you would know, if you were the real Batman. But you're not the real Batman, are you? You're just some guy in a Batman suit wandering around trying to steal things. I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

And I'm going to need you to return that Justice League ring.

Q: Where can you find a voodoo specialist in your area?

A: Why would you assume there's a voodoo specialist in my area?

Lots of neighborhoods are littered with chicken bones. Mine is not the only one. I'm sure if you drove around town and opened your eyes, I mean really opened them, and looked around, you would see chicken bones everywhere, and streets covered with bizarre symbols drawn in chalk, and stupefied people with ashen skin shuffling through the streets like zombies. Those sites are not exclusive to my front door.

Those? Those are my collection of pin cushions. I'm a bit obsessed, I must admit. I love pin cushions. It just so happens that many of the pin cushions in my collection are human shaped, and appear to resemble some of my neighbors - certain thoughtless people who throw loud parties during the weekday, block my driveway with their luxury SUVs, listen to modern popular music at deafening levels or subscribe to The New Yorker - some of whom have recently suffered spontaneous broken legs or arms, or become overwhelmed with a sudden bring sensation, as if they have been placed in an oven. I can assure you any similarities between the pin cushions are my neighbors are purely coincidental.

I'm sorry I can't be more help, Officer. I hope you find this voodoo specialist who has been, as you put it, "terrorizing" the neighborhood. I'll keep my eyes open and let you know if I see anything.

Could you leave me a business card, so I can contact you if I have any information?

Great.

And could I trouble you for a lock of your beautiful hair?

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Q: What do you do if a girl asks you to the dance and is serious about it?

A: It depends on why she asked you: Because she's interested in you romantically, or because she's planning on dumping pig's blood on your head once you are ironically named Prom King?

You should also take into consideration whether or not you were sitting behind a table when she asked you. If you were, she might not know that you are confined to a wheelchair. If you weren't behind the desk, she might have been mocking you. Did she snicker when she asked you, then claim to be thinking about something funny? Sometimes they do that.

No?

So she knows you were in a wheelchair, she wasn't mocking you, and she wants to go to the dance with you?

This girl doesn't happen to wear dark glasses and carry a cane does she?

No?

Wow.

Son, I suggest you marry this girl. You might never get another chance like this. At the very least go to the dance with her. You'll have fun. And I need you out of the house on Friday anyway. I'm having a few of my ... friends over and you creep them out. And when they're creeped out, they don't tip. And Mommy has boob payments.

Q: Can chocolate kill dachshunds?

A:  Probably. If he set his mind to it, and he had a reason, he could kill pretty much anything.

Should he do it? Probably not. After all, he's new to this country, and immigration tends to keep a close eye on mail-order African husbands.

By the way, you might want to give him a less offensive name before you introduce him to people.

Q: What are 5 facts about Robin Hood?

A: 1.) Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor, making the poor rich and the rich poor, forcing him to steal from the newly rich, who were once poor, and give to the newly poor, who had been rich until he stole their wealth. Now, the rich were once again rich and the poor once again poor. And the cycle continued.
     2.) Robin Hood spoke with a flat Midwestern accent, which Kevin Costner captured perfectly in the film Tin Cup. To this day, no one can explain his accent in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. 
     3.) Robin Hood was the finest archer of his day. He once hit a target 6 feet wide from a distance of 10 feet, to the amazement of his assembled Merry Men, archery standards being much lower at the time.
     4.) In his late 20's Robin Hood fled civilization to live in Himalayas and study the teachings of the Great Buddha. A fox he found in the woods assumed his identity during his departure. No one ever knew the difference, least of all Maid Marion.
    5.) Robin Hood was the first man to swing into combat on a rope hanging from a chandelier, and the first man to die by swinging into combat on a rope hanging from a chandelier.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Q: What is the talents of a blue whale?

A: Well, they can swim. That's one. And hold their breath a long time. A real long time. Longer than you expect. They're excellent learners. If you catch them young enough, you can train them to do tricks: jumping out of the water, standing on their tail, carrying people on their back, towing ships full of cocaine in the middle of the night to avoid the watchful eye of the DEA.

But their most impressive talent is their ability to remember. They remember everything. Everything. Every slight, every sarcastic crack, every time you whipped them for getting spooked and dumping three tons of Columbia raw, every time you tried to kill them with explosive krill.

They're also very good at revenge. Right up there with memory. 1 and 1A. Memory 1, revenge 1A. They're kind of tied together, from my experience. That's why I have this peg leg. And this other peg leg. And this peg spine.

About Me

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Ryan Callahan has written, produced, or directed shows for ABC, A&E, SHowtime, The CW, TVLand, Animal Planet and other networks even lower on your dial. When not making TV, or writing fake answers, he reads books, buys books, or buys books to read later. Follow WikiFakeAnswers on Twitter and Facebook