Q: What did you eat in Concentration Camps?

A: Oh, I ate wonderfully. We had lots of bread, and cheese. Chicken was readily available. Lots of sausage, obviously. On a good day, we might have a steak.

And there was always chocolate. So much chocolate. Always chocolate, seemingly with every meal.

Oh yes, we ate very well. A literal smorgasbord.

I understand meals were somewhat less frequent for the prisoners.

Q: Why don't a lot of people graduate?

A: Because college is wicked hard.

They expect you to go to class, like, two or three times a week, for an hour at a time. At that's not just one class. I'm talking four, maybe five classes. You add that all up and I'm expected to be in class, like, 15 hours a week. And that's just class time. That's not counting all the time they want you to spend on your own, reading.

So, now you're talking about 20, maybe even 25 hours a week I'm focusing on school work. And that's for almost eight months of out of the year. When am I supposed to find the time to concentrate on what's really important, like finding myself as a person? Or learning to manipulate women? Or figuring out who the weak links are in a group of friends?

College just isn't for me, Dad. There are too many demands on my time and it's taking away from my art.

So, I've decided to forgo my remaining years of eligibility and announce my desire to turn pro.

I'm joining the NGL.

And I really hope your team drafts me.

I don't see what's so funny.

What do you mean there's no such thing as the National Grifting League?

Why have I been buying all that team merchandise? And those DVDs? And books? And what about all those League Championships you took me to as a kid?

It was all a con?

You conned your own son out of his life savings, left to him by his dead mother?

Damn. You are good.

Well, I guess I'll go back to college.

I'm sure they'll be happy to have me back at Flim Flam University.

Hey, where did the campus go?

Q: How can you tell that your wife is falling out of love with you?

A: There will be little signs at first.

She'll hang out with her friends more. She won't laugh at your jokes as much. She'll start to criticize the way you hold your fork.

Then you'll notice bigger changes. She'll start dressing nicer. She'll be less interested in sex. Sometimes she won't come home until very late, her hair a mess, her dress stinking of booze, cigars and Old Spice.

Eventually, the signs will become too much for you to ignore. She'll be gone for weeks at a time. She'll empty your bank account and go on a vacation to Thailand. She'll send you a sex tape she made with her new lover, labeled "You Should Watch This. You Might Learn a Thing Or Two."

After that, it's one non-stop torrent of disrespect. It will get to the point that you will curse the day you decided to dig her up and re-animate her corpse.

Q: What kind of clipping or grooming needs to be done to show a rottweiler?

A: A simple wash and basic grooming will get your dog ready for the show.

Provided you also have the requisite leash, iron muzzle, steel fence, tranquilizer darts, and Doomsday Device.

The Doomsday Device is obviously a last resort.

Everything else is just a precaution.

We had a rottweiler at the show one year. Coincidentally, there was a large group of children visiting.

We no longer allow children to visit.

Our insurance won't cover it.

Even if it did, we probably still wouldn't have any children here. Not after the parents see the video from that year's show.

Did I mention that the children came from a local day camp for the obese? And that they smelled of bacon grease and ground beef?

You can imagine how the rottweiler reacted. Turns out, his trainer, in an attempt to make him look thin, had not fed the dog in weeks.

Those kids from the fat camp could barely waddle to the bathroom when needed. They didn't have a chance to escape a crazed rottweiler.

Some of the children tried to fight back, god bless their chubby little hearts.

Q: Does Barack Obama have a brother that's in a commercial?

A: That's Barack Obama. He is a brother. That's an outdated slang term for a black dude.

And that's not a commercial. That's a campaign ad. A Barack Obama campaign ad. He's running for President.

I mean, he was running for President. Two and a half years ago.

You really need to catch up on your DVR. It's not cute anymore. It's getting annoying.

I really want talk to you about that episode of Community where they play paint ball, and I really don't feel like waiting two years.

By the way, Obama wins. Spoiler.