Goodie Grab Bag II

(Humor knows only the bounds of this little black book)

1: I’ve seen an opera.
2: Did you like it?
1: Sort of. I kept expecting a fat lady, though.
2: There was no fat lady?
1: No, all of the singers were medium-weight.
2: Then how did you know it was over?

It’s colder than the vagina monologues

1: What’s your name?
2: Kathleen.
1: Kathleen what?
2: No, just Kathleen.

Quick-fire comebacks:
1: I’m dating myself
2: Nobody else would have you, eh?
3: Well, someone had to do it.
4: Bring two condoms, I hear you’re a slut.
5: I haven’t dated myself in a while, it’s cheaper just to pay for sex.
6: Oh, come on! You could do better than yourself!
2: Yeah, but he can’t.
6: Good point.

I never commit to anything… that is, I usually don’t commit to anything.

2: Just once, I want to see an elimination movie where I don’t know who’s going to survive at the end.
1: Yeah. Like the black guy.
2: Whoa, whoa, whoa. The world’s not ready for a black guy to survive a whole movie.

1: Are you okay? You seem depressed.
2: You’re projecting your emotions onto me. It’s okay, everyone does it.
1: Oh.
2: Are you coming on to me?

1: I suck at surfing. I suck at all sports, really
2: Why?
1: I kept falling.
2: Well, as long as you don’t suck at skydiving.

I can stand on a surfboard, just not in water.

1: What math are you in?
2: 4.
1: Ha! So am I!

2: Aren’t there any other positions we could be in?
1: Are you coming on to me?
2: Not yet, no.

2: I tried committing suicide once. I sat at the edge of my bed for hours, just contemplating a bottle of pills I had in my hand.
1: And you couldn’t do it?
2: Nah, they were Flintstone’s Vitamins.

2: My father left before he could teach me how to shave.
1: Oh…
2: Yeah, he’s been gone for a year now..

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