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Lick, paw, ogle, caress, praise, pamper, relish, savor, massage, empathize, serenade, compliment, support, dig, floralize, feed, laminate, tantalize, bathe, humor, placate, stimulate, jiffylube, stroke, console, bark, purr, hug, baste, marinate, coddle, excite, pacify, protect, phone, correspond, anticipate, nuzzle, smooch, toast, minister to, forgive, sacrifice, ply, accessorize, leave, return, beseech, sublimate, entertain, charm, lug, drag, crawl, tunnel, show equality for, spackle, oblige, fascinate, attend, implore, bawl, shower, shave, ululate, trust, dip, twirl, dive, grovel, ignore, defend, milk, coax, clothe, straddle, melt, brag, acquiesce, aromate, prevail, super collide, fuse, fizz, rationalize, detoxify, sanctify, help, acknowledge, polish, upgrade, spoil, reddi-whip, embrace, delouse, accept, butter-up, hear, understand, jitterbug, mosh, locomote, beg, plead, borrow, steal, climb, swim, hold her hair while she's puking in the toilet, nurse, resuscitate, repair, patch, crazy-glue, respect, entertain, calm, allay, kill for, die for, do a nickel in Attica for, dream of, promise, exceed, deliver, tease, flirt, enlist, torch, pine, wheedle, cajole, angelicize, murmur, snuggle, snoozle, snurfle, hezbollah, jihad, elevate, enervate, alleviate, spotweld, serve, rub, rib, salve, bite, taste, nibble, gratify, take her to Funkytown, scuttle like a crab on the ocean floor of her existence, diddle, doodle, hokey-pokey, hanky-panky, crystal blue persuade, flip, flop, fly, don't care if I die, swing, slip, slide, slather, mollycoddle, squeeze, moisturize, humidify, lather, tingle, slam-dunk, keep on rockin' in the free world, wet, slicken, undulate, gelatinize, brush, tingle, dribble, drip, dry, knead, fluff, fold, blue-coral wax, ingratiate, indulge, wow, dazzle, amaze, flabbergast, enchant, idolize and worship, and then go back, Jack, and do it again.
HOW TO SATISFY A MAN EVERY TIME
Show up, naked.
Tommy goes into a confessional box and says bless me Father for I have sinned, I have been with a loose woman.
The Priest says "Is that you Tommy"?
Yes Father, it's me.
Who was the woman you were with?
I cannot tell you for I do not wish to sully her reputation.
The priest asks "Was it Brenda O'Malley"?
No Father.
Was it Fiona MacDonald?
No Father.
Was it Ann Brown?
No Father, I cannot tell you.
The priest says I admire your perseverance but you must atone for your sins. Your penance will be five Our Fathers and four Hail Marys.
Tommy goes back to his pew and his buddy Sean slides over and asks what happened?
Tommy replies: "I got five Our Fathers, four Hail Marys and three good leads".
DUMBWAITER: one who asks if the kids would care to order dessert.
FEEDBACK: the inevitable result when the baby doesn't appreciate the strained carrots.
FULL NAME: what you call your child when you're mad at him.
GRANDPARENTS: the people who think your children are wonderful even though they're sure you're not raising them right.
HEARSAY: what toddlers do when anyone mutters a dirty word.
INDEPENDENT: how we want our children to be as long as they do everything we say.
OW: the first word spoken by children with older siblings
PUDDLE: a small body of water that draws other small bodies wearing dry shoes into it.
SHOW OFF: a child who is more talented than yours.
STERILIZE: what you do to your first baby's pacifier by boiling it and to your last baby's pacifier by blowing on it.
TOP BUNK: where you should never put a child wearing Superman jammies.
TWO-MINUTE WARNING: when the baby's face turns red and she begins to make those familiar grunting noises.
VERBAL: able to whine in words
WHODUNIT: none of the kids that live in your house
The local bar was so sure that its bartender was the strongest man around that they offered a standing $1000 bet.
The bartender would squeeze a lemon until all the juice ran into a glass, and hand the lemon to a patron. Anyone who could squeeze one more drop of juice out would win the money.
Many people had tried over time (weight lifters, longshoremen, etc.) but nobody could do it. One day this scrawny little man came in, wearing thick glasses and a polyester suit, and said in a tiny, squeaky voice, "I'd like to try the bet."
After the laughter had died down, the bartender said OK, grabbed a lemon, and squeezed away. Then he handed the wrinkled remains of the rind to the little man. But the crowd's laughter turned to total silence as the man clenched his fist around the lemon and six drops fell into the glass.
As the crowd cheered, the bartender paid the $1000, and asked the little man, "What do you do for a living? Are you a lumberjack, a weight lifter, or what?"
The man replied, "I work for the IRS."
My fellow citizens, it is an honor and a pleasure to be here today. My opponent has openly admitted he feels an affinity toward your city, but I happen to *like* this area. It might be a salubrious place to him, but to me it is one of the nation's most delightful garden spots.
When I embarked upon this political campaign I hoped that it could be conducted on a high level and that my opponent would be willing to stick to the issues. Unfortunately, he has decided to be tractable instead - to indulge in unequivocal language, to eschew the use of outright lies in his speeches, and even to make repeated veracious statements about me.
At first, I tried to ignore these scrupulous, unvarnished fidelities. Now I do so no longer. *If my opponent wants a fight, he's going to get one!*
It might be instructive to start with his background. My friends, have you ever accidentally dislodged a rock on the ground and seen what was underneath? Well, exploring my opponent's background is dissimilar. All the slime and filth and corruption you could possibly imagine, even in your wildest dreams, are glaringly nonexistent in this man's life. And even during his childhood!
Let us take a very quick look at that childhood: It is a known fact that, on a number of occasions, he emulated older boys at a certain playground. It is also known that his parents not only permitted him to masticate excessively in their presence, but even urged him to do so. Most explicable of all, this man who poses as a paragon of virtue exacerbated his own sister while they were both teenagers!
I ask you, my fellow Americans: is this the kind of person we want in public office to set an example for our youth? Of course, it's not surprising that he should have such a typically pristine background - no, not when you consider the other members of his family:
His female relatives put on a constant pose of purity and innocence, and claim they are inscrutable, yet every one of them has taken part in hortatory activities.
The men in the family are likewise completely amenable to moral suasion.
My opponent's second cousin is a Mormon.
His uncle was a flagrant heterosexual.
His sister, who has always been obsessed by sects, once worked as a proselyte outside a church.
His father was secretly chagrined at least a dozen times by matters of a pecuniary nature.
His youngest brother wrote an essay extolling the virtues of being a homosapien.
His great-aunt expired from a degenerative disease.
His nephew subscribes to a phonographic magazine.
His wife was a thespian before their marriage and even performed the act in front of paying customers.
And his own mother had to resign from a women's organization in her later years because she was an admitted sexagenarian.
Now what shall we say of the man himself?
I can tell you in solemn truth that he is the very antithesis of political radicalism, economic irresponsibility and personal depravity. His own record *proves* that he has frequently discountenanced treasonable, un-American philosophies and has perpetrated many overt acts as well.
He perambulated his infant son on the street.
He practiced nepotism with his uncle and first cousin.
He attempted to interest a 13-year-old girl in philately.
He participated in a seance at a private residence where, among other odd goings-on, there was incense.
He has declared himself in favor of more homogeneity on college campuses.
He has advocated social intercourse in mixed company - and has taken part in such gatherings himself.
He has been deliberately averse to crime in our streets.
He has urged our Protestant and Jewish citizens to develop more catholic tastes.
Last summer he committed a piscatorial act on a boat that was flying the American flag.
Finally, at a time when we must be on our guard against all foreign "isms", he has coolly announced his belief in altruism - and his fervent hope that some day this entire nation will be altruistic!
I beg you, my friends, to oppose this man whose life and work and ideas are so openly and avowedly compatible with our American way of life. A vote for him would be a vote for the perpetuation of everything we hold dear.
The facts are clear; the record speaks for itself.
Do your duty.
Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else. And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that,as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
And then there is silence in the car.
To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?
And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's see . . . February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means . . . lemme check the odometer . . . Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a goddamn garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. God, I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.
And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a goddamn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their...
"Roger," Elaine says aloud.
"What?" says Roger, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have . . . Oh God, I feel so . . ." (She breaks down, sobbing.)
"What?" says Roger.
"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Roger.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.
"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that . . . It's that I . . . I need some time," Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)
"Yes," he says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
"Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Roger.
"That way about time," says Elaine.
"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, Roger," she says.
"Thank you," says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.)
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say: "Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"
One day an out of work mime is visiting the zoo and attempts to earn some money as a street performer. Unfortunately, as soon as he starts to draw a crowd, a zoo keeper grabs him and drags him into his office.
The zoo keeper explains to the mime that the zoo's most popular attraction, a gorilla has died suddenly and the keeper fears that attendance at the zoo will fall off. He offers the mime a job to dress up as the gorilla until they can get another one. The mime accepts.
So the next morning the mime puts on the gorilla suit and enters the cage before crowd comes. He discovers that it's a great job. He can sleep all he wants, play and make fun of people and he draws bigger crowds than he ever did as a mime. However, eventually the crowds tire of him and he tires of just swinging on tires. He begins to notice that the people are paying more attention to the lion in the cage next to his. Not wanting to lose the attention of his audience, he climbs to the top of his cage, crawls across a partition, and dangles from the top to the lion's cage. Of course, this makes the lion furious, but the crowd loves it.
At the end of the day the zoo keeper comes and gives the mime a raise for being such a good attraction.
Well, this goes on for some time, the mime keeps taunting the lion, the crowds grow larger, and his salary keeps going up. Then one terrible day when he is dangling over the furious lion he slips and falls. The mime is terrified. The lion gathers itself and prepares to pounce. The mime is so scared that he begins to run round and round the cage with the lion close behind. Finally, the mime starts screaming and yelling, "Help, Help me!", but the lion is quick and pounces. The mime soon finds himself flat on his back looking up at the angry lion and the lion says,
"Shut up you idiot! Do you want to get us both fired?"
The movie "Air Force One" has been so successful in its first two weeks, No. 1 at the box office, $81 million in ticket sales, that a sequel is already in the works. Which means, of course, that a contraband script has already surfaced. Below are exclusive excerpts from the screenplay of "Air Force Two."
FADE IN. EXT. NIAGARA FALLS, THE AMERICAN SIDE -- DAY.
VICE PRESIDENT LONGLEY WAITE, a principled family man, is delivering a speech on U.S.-Canadian relations. He looks at his text, crumples the pages purposefully, and discards them. He wants to speak from the moral core of his heart.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE
William Shatner, Pamela Anderson Lee, Mike Myers, Neil Young, Jim Carrey,
even Shania Twain. They're all Canadian. And they're all taking high-wage
jobs from hard-working American performers. (He glances at his staff. They
know what's coming.) So today I am proposing a "C-Chip," to help
American families block out Canadian television, movies, music and entertainers.
We will not negotiate, not even on Michael J. Fox. (He points menacingly
toward the Canadian side, his voice like thunder.) We're tired of being
entertained. It's your turn to be entertained.
INT. ABOARD AIR FORCE TWO -- TWILIGHT.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE is exultant about his impromptu announcement, but he's ready to kick back aboard his official aircraft. To relax, he pulls out his statistical analysis of airborne chlorofluorocarbons in Iowa and New Hampshire.
CUT TO: EXT. RUNWAY -- TWILIGHT.
CANADIAN EXTREMISTS, masquerading as Peter Jennings's film crew, board
Air Force Two. They exchange knowing glances with the VICE PRESIDENTIAL
SPEECHWRITER, their accomplice.
INT. AIR FORCE TWO, MAIN CABIN, MID-FLIGHT -- NIGHT.
CANADIAN EXTREMISTS (Screaming and brandishing assorted weaponry.)
Hands in the air, cultural imperialists. This is a hijacking. We will play
one Robert Goulet song, loud, every half-hour until you destroy the culturally
offensive, technologically cumbersome C-Chip.
The CANADIAN EXTREMISTS try herding passengers into the Air Force Two conference room. Trouble is, Air Force Two doesn't have a conference room. It doesn't have much of anything. It's a wonder this 40-year-old heap can get off the ground.
INT. AIR FORCE TWO, COCKPIT -- NIGHT.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE and his PRESS SECRETARY have slipped into the cockpit.
PRESS SECRETARY
Sir, you've got to do something.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE
Are you nuts? This is a godsend. Think of the press! Call CNN pronto. If
they're not live with this in 45 minutes, you're fired.
INT. AIR FORCE TWO, MAIN CABIN -- NIGHT.
The CANADIAN EXTREMISTS try calling the White House. But they keep getting a busy signal. Odd, that always happens on Air Force Two.
INT. AIR FORCE TWO, COCKPIT -- NIGHT.
A frustrated and impatient VICE PRESIDENT WAITE, overhearing the CANADIAN EXTREMISTS, grabs his cellular phone and calls the terrorists, cannily disguising his voice.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE
This is the President of the United States. Longley Waite is the best thing
that ever happened to the U.S.A. Truth is, he runs the country, not me.
If you harm one hair on his Vice Presidential head, you'll have the entire
United States Air Force parachuting into Winnipeg by morning.
INT. AIR FORCE TWO, MAIN CABIN -- NIGHT.
CANADIAN EXTREMISTS (Speaking to the hostages.) Messieurs et madames, we've just spoken to your President. He refuses to cooperate. We will therefore activate the CD player. (The music begins, and screams are heard.)
INT. AIR FORCE TWO, COCKPIT -- NIGHT.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE (To PRESS SECRETARY.)
No CNN yet? Just make something up. Tell Larry King we're losing fuel.
CUT TO: INT. WHITE HOUSE BRIEFING ROOM -- NIGHT.
The Presidential spokesman, SPIKE OBSCURY, is briefing reporters.
OBSCURY
Air Force Two has been hijacked by Canadian extremists. So far as we know,
the Vice President is still alive. Any questions?
REPORTER #1
How'd they get Air Force Two?
OBSCURY
Who cares, who cares how they got Air Force Two?
REPORTER #2
Spike, is Longley Waite still Vice President?
OBSCURY
Who?
CUT TO: INT. AIR FORCE TWO, MAIN CABIN -- NIGHT.
Unbeknownst to his adversaries, VICE PRESIDENT WAITE has crept into the main cabin, armed only with his environmental manifesto. One CANADIAN EXTREMIST, meanwhile, rips open a bag of Air Force Two peanuts, ignores the many recycling bins and tosses the empty bag on the floor. VICE PRESIDENT WAITE watches in horror as the litter flutters to the carpet.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE
Those animals!
The CANADIAN EXTREMISTS hear this, barely. As they begin looking for the source of the sound, one lights a cigarette. First, no press. Then no recycling. Now this. They've gone too far. VICE PRESIDENT WAITE storms into view.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE
You can do whatever you want to me, my staff or this aircraft. But the
Federal Aviation Administration specifically states that there is no smoking
on domestic flights. Get . . . off . . . my . . . plane.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE breaks the cigarette over one knee and the cigarette smoker over the other. He disposes of others with an assortment of fisticuffs and karate kicks. He's Jackie Chan meets Spiro Agnew. Then he eyes the final CANADIAN EXTREMIST, the leader.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE
Listen here, you Molson-swilling, Alex Trebek-coddling lunatic. By hijacking
Air Force Two, you're not just taking on one man. You're taking on an American
institution, the Vice Presidency.
The two men wrestle, and before long VICE PRESIDENT WAITE is rendering the CANADIAN EXTREMIST unconscious with a ferocious barrage of head noogies. The SPEECHWRITER springs from his seat to help his Canadian benefactor.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE (Realizing his scribe set him up.)
It was you? and I trusted you with my sound bites?
SPEECHWRITER (Smirking.)
So will the next Vice President. Isn't it ironic?
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE
That's not even yours, you little twerp. That's an Alanis Morissette line.
A Canadian line.
VICE PRESIDENT WAITE clobbers the SPEECHWRITER with his environmental report and deposits him in a recycling bin. For good measure, he picks up the empty peanut bag and throws it in the bin.
CUT TO: EXT. ANDREWS AIR FORCE BASE -- DAWN.
Air Force Two makes a smooth landing. VICE PRESIDENT WAITE emerges, the picture of triumphant confidence. He waves to the crowd, which nearly reaches double figures.
RUNWAY ATTENDANT #1
Who's that? Must be somebody important.
RUNWAY ATTENDANT #2
Not with a plane like that.
FADE OUT.
The violinist Fritz Kreisler was out strolling with a friend when they came upon a fish market. Kreisler looked down at the fish, seeing row upon row of staring eyes and gaping mouths. Suddenly, he smacked his hand to his forehead and said, "I'm late for a concert!"
A man walks into an auto parts store and says,
"I'd like a rear view mirror for my Yugo."
The man behind the counter thinks about this for a while, then says,
"Yup, seems like a fair trade to me."
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