Colfax McLiverneck

I’m literally balls deep in this McDonalds play pen.

I’ve got a fever associated with noise-induced hearing loss—and the only prescription is less cowbell.

Hi, I’m Knob Slobbernam, and I’ve got my red shirt AND my brown pants, so let’s do this!

You say pee-can, she says pee-kahn, I say pee-corn.

Teach a man to squish, and and he’ll make moist sounds of wet chewing until Scott gets uncomfortable and creeps out of the room.

Good day, shopkeep! I’ll take a dash of haber, a ream of butts, and all the corn you’ve got.

Well here’s a little story ‘bout a man named Scott / The poor podcast host barely had a lucid thought / Then one day while he was readin’ forum posts / Santa beat his ass and Zouks became the host

Popeye’s life was rife with strife ‘cause his lithe wife used a scythe as a knife to slice his corn cob pipe in thrice

Pro tip: write catchphrases while listening to Pistol Shrimps Radio because Mark says shit like “We got a real cornburner here, folks!”

When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a snail.

I Got a Feelin’...That Tonight’s Gonna be a Good example of why we don’t play Black Eyed Pea songs at Nyctophobia Conventions

Why did Dr. McCoy misdiagnose the woodland blight on planet Fryxion 6? He couldn’t see De Forest for De Trees.

Rubber baby buggy bumper blubber gravy grumpy dumper lumpy greasy humble slumper vulgar sleazy rubble humper

On today’s show, not even one single solitary mention of the word corn, and an entrepreneur.

This is harder than nailing jello to a tree, and I would know, because I just took candy from that nine-foot, 400-lb. baby with the sawed-off shotgun.

I find it odd that no one has mentioned the 800-lb. can of corn in the chair directly across the table from me.

So much depends upon the yellow corn glazed with butter beside the white grits

I have eaten the corn that was in the icebox and which you were probably saving for dinner. Forgive me—it was delicious, and I am me, after all

Dear Mr. Auckerman: we regret to inform you that your application for Shucker at the Aw Shucks! Corn Shucking Co-Op has been laughed at and discarded.

Dear Mr. Auckerman: we regret to inform you that yo mamma wears army boots.

Dear Mr. Auckerman: we regret to inform you that your Application for CBB Host position has been declined. Please turn in your sweater vests and leave.

Corn.

Boy the way Glen Miller played / Songs that made the hit parade / His plane fell in a fusillade / And sharks ate his face

Move along, there’s nothing to see here. And quit tapping that infuriating white-tipped stick, you weirdo.

If I had a kernel of corn for every time I’ve wished I had a kernel of corn, I’d have all the corn.