Since I had little else to do, on impulse, I told her that no I didn’t have a dog, and that I was starting the Purina Diet again, although I probably shouldn’t because I ended up in the hospital last time. On the bright side though, I had lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of every hole in my body and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry and that the food is nutritionally complete so I was going to give it a try again. (I have to mention here that everyone in the line was enthralled with my story by now.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food had poisoned me. I told her no; I had stopped in the middle of the parking lot to scratch my fleas and a car hit me.

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack, he was laughing so hard.

Wal-Mart won’t let me shop there anymore.

[forwarded by Amelia Lanning and sent to me by Mikeys Funnies]

This separation between meat and chicken was found recently on the website of a very reputable organization who will remain nameless in order to protect their identity from the ensuing rush of mixed emotion on the topic. But, as can be seen by all, chicken is neither a meat nor a vegetable.

The waitress, not wanting to appear stupid, goes to the kitchen & asks the cook, “This guy out there just ordered 3 flat tires & a pair of headlights. What does he think, this is an auto parts store?!”

“No,” the cook says, “3 flat tires means 3 pancakes & a pair of headlights is 2 eggs sunny side up.”

“Oh,” says the waitress. She thinks about this and then she spoons up a bowl of beans and gives it to the customer.

The guy says “What are the beans for?”

The waitress replies “I thought that, while you’re waiting for the flat tires & headlights, you might want to gas up.”

“What’s that mean?”

“That is an authentic Irish toast.”

“Oh. In that case, here’s to bread, eggs and cinnamon.”

“Bread, eggs and cinnamon? What’s that?”

“That’s French toast.”

“Sounds good,” my wife said. “But I don’t want the eggs.”

“Then I’ll have to charge you two dollars and forty-nine cents because you’re ordering a la carte,” the waitress warned her.

“You mean I’d have to pay more for NOT taking the eggs?” my wife asked incredulously.

“Yep” stated the waitress.

“I’ll take the special,” my wife replied.

“How do you want your eggs?”

“Raw and in the shell,” my wife replied.

She took the two eggs home.