I don’t know about the weather where you are, but one state north of me, in the town of Hell, Michigan, I hear July has been….

So, when it’s hotter than ‘ell in Hell, I say it’s time to say good-by to July, and good riddance. As I (would like to) tell my visiting in-laws, come back again when you can’t stay so long. Today, as July leaves, I leave you with some hot jokes to remember me by until my next post….and remember, don’t blame the muse-enger for the clinkers. Acting as a muse meant for amusement, mistermuse mooched most of ’em, thus no funny-back guarantees.

How hot is it?
So hot, the birds are using potholders to pull worms out of the ground.

How do you make holy water?
Boil the hell out of it.

What did one pig say to the other in a steamy pigpen?
I’m bacon.

How hot is it?
So hot, the chickens are laying hard-boiled eggs.

What happened when Mr. White bought a loaf of bread at the store?
By the time he got home, White’s bread was toast.

How hot is it?
So hot, when I spilled ice water on my computer, it begged for more.

Somehow, I have a funny feeling it’s gonna be a while before my next post.



July 3 is both STAY OUT OF THE SUN DAY and the official start of the DOG DAYS OF SUMMER, the period (July 3-August 11) during which Sirius, the Dog Star, rises at the same time as our star, the sun. The Dog Star, for your information and mine, was so named for its prominence in the constellation cluster Canis Major, which was in turn named for its prominence in the constipation buster* Cannabis Maximus.


The point is, this is one smokin’ hot season, when (assuming you’re not a mad dog or Englishman) you’d best stay indoors all day with an ice chest full of cold ones within reach, and drink to mistermuse’s posts. What could be cooler than that?

Friends, by staying inside, I’m not prescribing letting yourself go to pot, but the clime this time of year in the Northern Hemp-isphere isn’t fit for a dog (mad or not). It’s simply….

How hot is it? Today I saw two birds using potholders to pull worms out of the ground…. not only that, but after the birds swallowed their prey, I could swear I saw steam coming out of their rears….er, ears. Talk about being madder than a birddog in heat–those birds were so steamed, the eggs they laid were hardboiled.

Speaking of laying an egg, all booed things must come to an end; however, for those fans who think my yolks weren’t so hot, I leave you with these:


Because my last post (TITLES FOR BARE NAKED POEMS) featured ‘no-line’ poems, which some readers might consider devoid of substance, I will try to wrecktify that air with a whole caboodle of one-line poems for you nit-pickers who insist that poems should have words — followed (in a spirit of munificence) by a bonus kit of one-line quotes, just for the tell of it. Now, far be it from me to make threats, but be forewarned: if this post isn’t enough to placate your unreasonable expectations, I may have to up the ante next time with a post of two-line poems….and you wouldn’t want that two happen, would you?


Have an angst day.


Would I lie to you?


Who knows why?


So….I suppose.


Anything for a buck.




Nobody hear but us chickens.


Please excuse it.


What’s up with that?


Sign here ______________________

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

There are two ways of disliking poetry: one way is to dislike it, the other is to read Pope. –Oscar Wilde

I like to think of poetry as statements made on the way to the grave. –Dylan Thomas

All that is worth remembering of life is the poetry of it. –William Hazlitt

Poetry is what Milton saw when he went blind. –Don Marquis

Poetry is a way of taking life by the throat. –Robert Frost

You will not find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with you. –Joseph Joubert

Poetry is a gift; maybe that’s why you can’t sell it. –Evan Esar

In a poem, the words should be as pleasing to the ear as the meaning is to the mind. –Marianne Moore

Once in a while I meet someone who has read me; it did him good — I mean it served him right. –Robert Frost

What stimulates me to write a poem is that I have got something inside me that I want to get rid of — it is almost a kind of defecation. –T. S. Eliot

Gotta go.


Disaster is rarely as pervasive as it seems from recorded accounts. After absorbing the news of today, one expects to find a world consisting entirely of strikes, crimes, power failures, stalled trains, shutdowns, muggers, drug addicts, neo-Nazis, and rapists. The fact is that one can come home in the evening –on a lucky day– without having encountered more than one or two of these phenomena.
Barbara Tuchman, author of The Guns of August (1962 Pulitzer Prize winner)
………………..     ………………..     ………………..     ………………..     ………………..     ………………..

I chose the above tongue-in-cheek quote to serve as the introduction to this pun-in-cheek post because….well, because the post’s title had come to me as wordplay based on the title of Tuchman’s book, and I thought the quote would connect the dots….

Now that the dots are taken care of, let us turn to the pun, which, it’s alleged, is mightier than the sword….as long as you don’t get the point. Hahahahaha. The pun has been defined as a short quip followed by a long groan (which is punderstandable if you get the point, assuming it has a point, which would seem to be the point, otherwise what is the point?). It’s all very punfusing.

But enough about whatever that was about. Here are more killer puns (not mine, you’ll be pleased to know) for your edification. If you don’t suffer from edification, take them for anything that ails you.They’re guaranteed to cure every ill known to man. If you’re a woman, take them anyway, just in case you come in contact with man. Why take chances?

What do sea monsters eat for lunch? Fish and ships.

I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. It’s impossible to put down.

Having sex in an elevator is wrong on so many levels.

What do the Bermuda Triangle and sexy women have in common? They both swallow a lot of seamen.

I told some jokes about the unemployed, but none of them worked.

Thank God for nipples. Without them, boobs would be pointless. 

I accidentally swallowed some Scrabble tiles. My next crap could spell disaster.

Vagina jokes aren’t funny. Period.

Thieves broke into my house and stole everything except my soap, towels and deodorant. Dirty bastards.

I couldn’t figure out how to fasten my seatbelt. Then it clicked!

People who say they suffer from constipation are full of shit.

I can’t believe I got fired from the calendar factory, when all I did was take a day off.

Speaking of taking a day off, I’m off for the next five days. I leave you with this disclaimer: I assume you are a groan-up and therefore I am NOT RESPUNSIBLE for any side effects, sound effects, after effects or any other effects resulting from reading this post, with the exception of an irresistible urge to send me money (diamonds and gold also accepted).








July 1 is International Joke Day, one of those days when I get to pilfer humor from others rather than strain my brain for something original. Hence, if you find any of the following jokes offensive to your ethnicity, they’re not my jokes, so don’t shoot the messenger. Yes, I’m posting them, but the devil made me do it (just so you know who to blame). Thus pre-absolved, off we go around the world:

What do you name a retarded Chinese baby?
Sum Ting Wong.

What’s the difference between an Irish wake and an Irish wedding?
There’s one less drunk at the wake. (Or, as I would’ve said, one less Irish stewed.)

A French chef, Monsieur H. Cuisine, tired of being a glorified cook, decided to retire and raise rabbits to sell to Paris’s finer restaurants. After searching all over the city for a place to raise his rabbits, an old priest at the cathedral agreed to rent him a small plot behind the rectory. The venture proved so successful that one restaurant owner asked where he got such tasty rabbits. Monsieur H. Cuisine smiled and replied, “I raise them myself, near the cathedral. Actually, I have a….hutch back of Notre Dame.”

If you want to eat well in England, eat three breakfasts daily. –W. Somerset Maugham

A New Zealander, hoping to immigrate to Australia (which was largely a British penal colony until the 1850s), was questioned by a customs officer upon arrival: “What is your business in Australia?”
“I wish to immigrate.”
Customs officer: “Do you have a conviction record?”
Confused, the New Zealander answered, “I didn’t think you still needed one.”

Why do Italian men have mustaches?
They want to look like their mama.

It’s almost impossible to do inventory in Afghanistan because of the tally ban.

My next door neighbor is loud and obnoxious. Now I know how Canada feels.

January 19th was Martin Luther King Jr. Day in America….or, as it’s known in the south, Monday.

The world is getting to be such a dangerous place, a man is lucky to get out of it alive. –W.C. Fields




….at least, we think so:

🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

July 1st is International Joke Day, brought to you by the maker of human beings everywhere — for most of you, that would be God, so let us begin with a prayer by Robert Frost:

Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee, and I’ll forgive Thy great big joke on me.

Speaking of seeking forgiveness, I stole almost every joke in this post, so forgive me too, Lord. If jokes were meant to be kept to oneself, I’m pretty sure You wouldn’t have invented sex.

What do Christmas trees and Catholic priests have in common? Their balls are just for decoration.

PMS is just a term for ovary-acting.

How do you make Holy Water? Boil the hell out of it.

A blind man walks into a bar. And a table. And a chair.

What is the difference between ignorance and apathy? I don’t know and I don’t care.

What time is it when you have to go to the dentist? Tooth hurtie.

Did you know dwarfs and midgets have very little in common?

How did the hipster burn his tongue? He drank his coffee before it was cool.

Just went to an emotional wedding. Even the cake was in tiers.

If Adam came back to earth, the only thing he’d recognize would be the jokes.






What did the guy in the wildebeest costume say at the Halloween party?
I feel like a gnu man.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Tourist: Can you tell me how to get to the zoo from here?
Wildebeest: Sorry, I’m gnu in town.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Why did the dyslexic bank robber walk out without any loot?
He walked in carrying a gnu.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

What did the unsuccessful wildebeest poacher say to the game warden?
No gnus is good gnus.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

What did the wildebeest say when her doctor told her she was having twins?
That’s gnus to me!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

What is  the wildebeests’ favorite publication?
The Gnu York Times.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

What did Ricardo do when he felt sorry for the San Diego Zoo’s wildebeest?
Took it to Gnu Mexico.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

(No extra charge for the ha’s)