Colfax McLiverneck

G-g-g-g-ghost. H-h-h-h-host. S-s-s-s-snake. C-c-c-c-corn. P-p-p-p-plugs. This has been the Comedy Bang Bang vocal warm up show.

Palindrome her? Reh wonk yldrah I!

Yes! And the color of corn they are!

Jason, are you pondering what I’m pondering? I think so Scott, but how will we eat corn with prolapsed esophagi?

The Herbie reaction from the Furby faction ended with PeeWee in traction.

There once was a man from Savanaheim / Whose ear hairs were so long he could rope a li’l dogie with ‘em / He said with guffaw / As he pinched off a loaf of chocolate chip challah / If yo mamma was a corn dog, I’d dip her in spicy mustard and gobble gobble her right up!

Yea, though I walk through the valley of corn, I shall fear no weevils.

What are we going to do tonight, Scott? Same thing we do every night, Jason: shuck a bushel of corn while comedy perishes in the void of our disdain.

Why was Fivevel afraid of Sevenvel? Because Sixvel Sevenvel Eightvel.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Wait a minute. Who the fuck gave you a horse as a gift? The fuck is up with that?

Are you a Mexi-can or a Mexi-corn or a Mexi-can-o-corn?

I hear that old piano / From down the avenue / I smell the cornbread burning / I look around for the nearest fire escape

I like apple tree, but I like corn tree more.

A corn-themed tour of Guangzhou in a surrey built for two? Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished!

Well hello, there, Betty. You can call me Al...James Al.

I’ll take People Who Cracked Corn for $800, Alex.

On today’s show, we’re slingin’ some sweet tent, payin’ some late rent, fomentin’ some malicious intent, and pourin’ some comedy cement.

I put my pants on one leg at a time just like you—but I stop at one because of that infection I picked up from your mom at the Blues Traveler concert.

Idle hands may be the devil’s playthings, but my right hand is nobody’s toy but mine #blisterinthesun #virginiacinco #getagrip

And verily, the Prince of Lies did infiltrate the land of the Mantzouka, and he was called Fourvelzebub, and he did stabbily smite dead the Recently Risen Scottrick, who now was technically un-un-dead, which was concerning to the disciples who had gathered around him, especially Maxwell of Tallahassee, who said “Fuck it,” and he moved to Brooklyn to open an antique clock shop.

We intended to pave the road to hell, but you know what they say about the plans of mice and men. Plus, mice tend to die in that kind of heat.

I just flew in on United and boy are my arms broken.

I knew this guy from Nantucket whose penis was so remarkably large in proportion to his torso length that he could fellate himself.

Spoonerize her? I knarely blow her!

Some think I take corn too seriously. And when He Who Walks Behind the Rows begins his 1,007-year reign, they will pay dearly. WITH THEIR VERY SOULS