Captain Dada

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A Place In The Sun

There are only two places where you can get away with wearing a gown all day: hospitals and Neptune.

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Half-Baked

My next-door neighbor is a baker and he always wakes up at 4 in the morning. I'm an early riser myself, so I often see him leave the house when I go pick up my daily newspaper. "Off to bake the bread?" I ask him, and he smiles back. "Off to bake the bread," he replies.

The same thing happened yesterday. "Off to bake the bread?" I asked him. He smiled back, but does not respond. Clearly, he was not off to bake the bread. Then, I thought, what the hell was he doing?

I peeked out the curtain until he leaves. Then, I jimmied his back door open with a credit card. I hacked into his computer and read through all of his emails. I helped myself to some of his frozen taquitos and I prank-called bowling alleys on his telephone. I drank all of his scotch and did his crossword puzzles and took a nap on his pool table. Later that morning, he woke me up, and he smelled like bread.

"Did you just get back from baking the bread?" I asked.

"No," he replied, "I was on a date with my girlfriend."

"Then why do you smell like bread?" I asked.

"My girlfriend is a seagull," he replied.

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Nosferatu

Nobody ever remembers Francis Scott Key's follow-up hit, "Do The Dracula".

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Rat Race

Through careful research, I've found that the truest stereotype of Asians is their inability to take a joke about racial stereotypes.

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M

A great Halloween costume for Siamese twins joined at the hip is the letter M. They only need to decide if they want to go serif or not.

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School Ties

I'm sad I didn't go Ivy League because I would have a great anecdote about the time I flunked out of an Ivy League school.

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Memento

If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do is stick a Mento inside and watch time froth all over the the carpet.

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The Dish

Winston, my last roommate, was in the CIA. He was a pretty solid roommate, except he couldn’t talk much about his work.

One day, there was some kind of military coup in Africa and so Winston was put on assignment in Equatorial Guinea, and I didn’t see him for weeks. The rent checks were still coming in from the government, but the thing that bothered me most was that he had left a dirty plate in the sink. I’m not his maid, so I refused to clean it.

Four months later, word came down from his CIA commander that Winston had been discovered to be a spy and was assassinated. The CIA gave me enough money to cover six months rent and his share of the security deposit in exchange for my silence. They were trying to deny his very existence.

I told them they were barking up the wrong tree, for denying Winston’s existence was also to deny the existence of the dirty plate in my sink.

A representative from the state department visited me one day and we came to an agreement that I would get a new roommate from the CIA who would wash the dirty plate. The new roommate came and washed the dirty plate, but I eventually kicked him out after I suspected him of using my shampoo without permission.

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The Funeral

It was an open casket funeral.

Jean-Claude Moray-Salinger laid peacefully in the coffin while his friends prayed silently. The eulogy was given by his fiance, Faith-Elizabeth Telestrada-Lopez. After the eulogy, Mary-Kate De Billwiller-Schmidt, the beautiful opera singer, sang “Ave Maria.”

“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?” whispered Ben-David Hamsworth-Cudlestine to Marc-Alexander Neumann-Frost.

“Mary-Kate De Billwiller-Schmidt,” responded Marc-Alexander Neumann-Frost.

“You think she’s single?” whispered Ben-David Hamsworth-Cudlestine. Rae-Bailey Jazzenblues-Collins nudged Ben-David Hamsworth-Cudlestine.

“You’re at a funeral for your best friend. Keep it in your pants,” Rae-Bailey Jazzenblues-Collins said.

“Sorry,” replied Ben-David Hamsworth-Cudlestine.

At the post-funeral reception, Ben-David Hamsworth-Cudlestine approached the opera singer Mary-Kate De Billwiller-Schmidt. Immediately, she cut him down.

“You’re not my type. Go away,” warned Mary-Kate De Billwiller-Schmidt.

Ben-David Hamsworth-Cudlestine grabbed a champagne flute and re-joined his giggling friends, Marc-Alexander Neumann-Frost, Rae-Bailey Jazzenblues-Collins, Joseph-Daniel Danielsson-Purdy, and Bill Hall.

“I think she’s a lesbian,” joked Ben-David Hamsworth-Cudlestine.

“There’s only one way to find out,” replied Bill Hall.

Bill Hall finished off his champagne and strided over to Mary-Kate De Billwiller-Schmidt.

“Your name is Mary-Kate De Billwiller-Schmidt, isn’t it?” asked Bill Hall.

“Yeah. Why?” replied Mary-Kate De Billwiller-Schmidt.

“How would you like to be Mrs. Bill Hall?” said Bill Hall.

The Halls were married 2 months later. On their honeymoon, however, they collided head-on with a 7-Eleven double-decker tractor-trailer in Winstom-Salem.

It was a closed casket funeral.

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Gremlins

If you buy a ceiling fan, make sure you get Gremlin insurance.

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It Happens Every Spring

There's something very peaceful about being covered in horse afterbirth and watching the sunset.

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Man of Steel

If you invite Superman over to your pool party and he gets all drunk and does a cannonball and cracks the bottom of your pool, it's your fault for inviting Superman.

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The Bank Job

The best way to rob a bank is to walk in with a silenced pistol and a suitcase full of $10,000 in cash. Hand the teller a note that you would like to deposit the $10,000 into a long-term savings account. Get a receipt. This is important. When you leave the bank, drop the pistol down a storm drain and drive away before the police arrive.

Return to the bank in 40 years, carrying a silenced lasergun and the receipt. Pass the receipt to the teller (who will likely be some sort of organic-android hybrid) with a note indicating that you would like to withdraw the money and close out your account. Take the money, leave the bank, and drop the lasergun down a storm drain and drive away in some sort of flying car before the sound wakes up one of the sewer zombies who haunt the hydrogen-scorched streets after the second sunset.

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The Game

The quickest way to turn a boring game of twenty questions into a heated racial argument is to choose slavery as your answer and then steadfastly claim that it is smaller than a breadbox.

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The New World

It blows my mind that the ocean water that I accidentally ingest whenever I go surfing has trace particles of urine from that time Christopher Columbus got really drunk on the Santa Maria and peed on a dolphin.

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My Left Foot

There’s an old wilderness saying: Take only photographs, leave only footprints. You can clearly see my footprints in the photograph of the robins nest I stomped on last weekend.

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Some Kind of Wonderful

My science fiction novel is about a planet much like ours, only you can actually kill somebody with kindness. There’s this rich philanthropist, a real savage, delightful son of a bitch, who has murdered four children by adopting them unconditionally, and he’s caught, and goes on trial for his terrible crimes, and he’s sentenced to the death penalty. Only on this planet, the death penalty is sticking him in a car and having him drive behind his executioner, who graciously pays for the murderer’s bridge toll.