Ultrasound uses that wand you wave over a woman’s belly. Hopefully, the woman is pregnant or just looks like it because she just ate a whole pumpkin pie before her appointment. When the fuzzy picture appears on the screen, I can let her know if it’s a baby girl or a boy or she’s going to be a proud parent of a gourd.
Feeling depressed about your crummy life? Can’t stand your job, in-laws, your wife or husband, and every one of your rotten no-good kids? Or are you still single because your dating app profile lists the doldrums as your favorite musical instrument?
Got my middle finger sliced off yesterday while cooking with celebrity chef, Guy Fieri, on the View. Whoopie was showing off by juggling potatoes to entertain the studio audience and one spud left orbit and knocked my hand over to Guy’s active cutting board.
I had her drop her towel in the hallway and turn her back to me. She was reluctant but complied.
I laughed when I saw the tattoo up close.
“It’s Scooby-Doo!” I said a little too loud. “You have a large tattoo of Scooby-Doo on your back, and he has an erection. And he’s smirking!”
You’re thinking these bearded men must have sex at least three times before their first coffee in the morning. And they always come home for lunch from their manly jobs in construction or maybe they were out riding their Harley Hogs with the handlebars the same shape as their mustaches. Why do they come home for lunch? More sex!
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All Illustrations by Dall-E and mE
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