Euripides’ Shorts

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. How many people question a pepper plant that grows peppers pre-pickled?

I do, for one.

Squeaky to bed and stinky to rise: looks like someone got lucky last night.

Shut the front door while you shut the fuck up.

Use a Wet One on me, baby, ‘cause I am wiped.

What if I told you…this isn’t a peg leg?

Whose dick do I have to suck to get a Western omelette around here? Asking for a friend.

Am I the only one who thinks poop doesn’t smell that bad?

You might want to consider it. I know someone who has rhythm and a partner and they’re very content.

Wait, is this Steve B. from Cleveland?! That guy with his dog fights! I told him the same thing. Wouldn’t listen. Then he brings in a Newfoundland and is like, “Hey! Get a load of this guy! He’s big enough, right?”

I’m not as skunk as you drunk thunk wunk, Occifer.

Don’t mind the dogs; the human daycare is just through those doors.

Let’s make heynong while the sun shines. After that, tune in for Heynong After Dark.

Be that as it mayonnaise, I mustard relish our thyme together. Lettuce ketchup.

All joking a salad.

When you’re getting sloppy seconds and you feel something beckon—gonorrhea!

Hickory penis-ry dock! They censored the name of my cock.

Your hard head feels so good against my wet brain.

I just bought my copy of With a Vodka-Soaked Tampon Up Your Asshole: The Scott Aukerman Story by Paul F. Tompkins. It’s a real gem! Highly recommended.

This fart convention is a lot of hot air.

An ‘i’ for an eye makes the whole world look really surprised.

When you said you stuck your poker in a glory hole during that glass-blowing seminar, I thought you meant something else.

So true.

So THAT’s why all my comedy gigs bomb so hard out there!

Is scrapbooking still a thing? Asking for a friend.