God, I pathetically amuse myself so much...
Me: His kids are really ugly.
Female Friend: Oh my God, that's horrible!
Me: The little one looks like Stephen Hawking.
Female Friend: It's no wonder he left them with their mom, then.
Me: Jesus.
*****
Female Friend: Should I go undercover and find out his penis size?
Me: Only if while you're doing it, you stare into those big-ass Gonzo eyeballs.
Female Friend: (Laughs)
Me: His eyeballs look like two Mike Wazowskis from Monsters, Inc. I feel like they might be like chameleon eyes. They can work independently from one another to track his prey.
Female Friend: You are seriously the funniest person I know!
Me: He is what a baby would look like if Louis C.K. and Jeff Goldbloom were the parents.
*****
Me: If big cars equate little penis size, then I should drive the tree-devouring machine from Fern Gully.
Female Friend: I'm sure it's not that bad.
Me: I should drive a bulldozer made of biceps.
Female Friend: Where do you come up with this stuff?
Me: I should drive a Cruise missile with a bicycle seat and Adrianna Lima.
Female Friend: Laughs. She is hot.
Me: I should drive Ecto-1 from the Ghostbusters, but with laser beams that blast holes into the ozone layer. I should drive a garbage truck full of motorcycles.
Female Friend: Mike, your penis is probably just fine.
Me: You're probably right. I should just stick to driving a unicycle from a flea circus. Or a go-cart made from old weed-eater parts.
*****
Friend: You compensate for something with your comedy.
Me: That's compensation for my lack of a soul. My momma never loved me enough, and I'm gay. And I'm an Eskimo.
Friend: What does being an Eskimo have to do with anything?
Me: It's embarrassing and I compensate for that with comedy.
*****
Female Friend: I am glad that's one thing about women we can change, the size of our parts, and it's totally acceptable. However, there's nothing worse than unzipping a small trouser snake.
Me: Not all of your parts change size, though. By the way, you look great in those pics of you in that dress.
Female Friend: Oh, well, thank you!
Me: Speaking of organs that change size.
****
Me: I hope I get rich soon.
Friend: Money isn't everything. You're not poor.
Me: No, but I'm not rich. I want to be rich enough to murder someone.
Friend: That's pretty morbid.
Me: I don't want to murder anyone, just rich enough to do it if I wanted to and then get away with it. Rich enough that it won't matter because poor people's laws won't apply to me.
Friend: No one is that rich
(awkward silence)
Me: Well I don't know the municipality restrictions on those things.
*****
Me: That guy is the first actual Irishman that I've ever met.
Friend: He's really Irish?
Me: Yeah, like Leo in Gangs of New York Irish.
Friend: That's a horrible example.
Me: That's my barometer. Leo on one end and an old-timey policeman from a gangster movie on the other.
*****
Me at a drive-thru: Yeah, I'll have a number 5, please.
Worker: Ok, I'll have your total at the window.
(Pull up to the window. It opens and the worker is talking to someone behind her)
Worker: Hey, don't nobody say nothing.
Me: That's a triple-negative.
Worker: Excuse me?
Me: Triple-negative. As in worse than a double negative. Grammar.
Worker: No, we don't sell graham crackers. This is a Taco Bell.
Me: Yep. Silly me. Thank you.
(As I pull away, I hear something beautiful just before the window closes)
Worker: That stupid muthafucka wanted GRAHAM CRACKERS!
