Here are a few things to think about that you probably have never thought about:
- Can you cry under water?
- How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered?
- Why do you have to “put your two cents in”.. but it’s only a “penny for your thoughts”? Where’s that extra penny going to?
- Once you’re in heaven, do you get stuck wearing the clothes you were buried in for eternity?
- Why does a round pizza come in a square box?
- What disease did cured ham actually have?
- How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put wheels on luggage?
- Why is it that people say they “slept like a baby” when babies wake up like every two hours?
- If a deaf person has to go to court, is it still called a hearing?
- Why are you IN a movie, but you’re ON TV?
- Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground?
- Why do doctors leave the room while you change? They’re going to see you naked anyway.
- Why is “bra” singular and “panties” plural?
- Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?
- If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a stupid song about him?
- Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane?
- If the professor on Gilligan’s Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can’t he fix a hole in a boat?
- Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They’re both dogs!
- If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made from?
- If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?
- Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?
- Why did you just try singing the two songs above?
- Why do they call it an asteroid when it’s outside the hemisphere, but call it a hemorrhoid when it’s in your butt?
About Author
Ode to Piles
Sometimes our lives, cannot survive, with false perpetual smiles,
Especially when you, spend your life in the loo, with re-occurring piles,
The time that I spend, above the U-bend, crippled with emotion,
Temperature rise, bloodshot eyes, just going through the motions.
Regardless of girth, it’s like giving birth, to an encrusted iron bar,
Or a packet of half-used razor blades, or a hedgehog shaped like a star,
And dieting, is an important thing, to contemplate on the loo,
Roughage is great, upon the plate, but can be hazardous too.
A curried veal brisket, and whether to risk it, and intricate planning ahead,
But I’m no fool, because a burning stool, has cauterised them as they’ve bled,
Don’t allow nuts, to enter your guts, as they escape your digestive bile,
And tomato skins are like passing pins, perforating each waiting pile.
Then there’s the wait, as they depart through your gate, willing a reduction in size,
But you turn to despair, as they dangle down there, ignorant to your cries,
You shuffle your feet, return to your seat, and bite the top of your pen,
Then sit there in fear, with your throbbing rear, and contemplate going again.
So, what’s the solution? To rectal ablutions, to end my burning dilemma?
Pile-surgery, bum-ectomy or an ice cream Sundae enema?
I’ve suffered depravity, a camera in my cavity, to establish the cause of the pain,
I’ve gone through the spectrum, of tests to my rectum, but the answer is plain.
So. It’s off to the Clinic, believe me no picnic, to get them remedied there,
Have them injected, where they’ve resurrected, and cause them to vanish to air,
Haemorrhoids, asteroids and good old Farmer Giles,
Are funny for some, but it’s really no fun, having a cavity full of Piles!
Liam Weatherill