Visitor Question Of The Week Archive:
#53 Hi, welcome to the archive, please enjoy all our old crap!!

See our Onionheaded friends

Hey! my face. The other day, I was having an elegant dinner party for some members of an offshore money laundering cartel, and I noticed that when the police barged in and arrested me for.. well, that's not important. What *is* important, however, is that they did it so *rudely*. Is is standard procedure for the police to eat their soup with a *teaspoon*? Hell, some of them even slurped their Dom Perignon, then wiped their mouths with their sleeves. Is this how police are supposed to behave? Really, they're hardly role models for today's children!
-The Reverend Jough Approximately-

Yes, I'm afraid it is. Here is an excerpt from the official American lawman's rule book, page 23, article 14 of "Officer Friendly's Big Book of Busting Etiquette:"

"...upon arresting members of any cartel, during dinner parities, law officers are not required to follow any of the standard dinner practices used in normal society. Officers are welcome to improvise, such as: Elbows on the table while cuffing, blowing off your gun to get the waiters attention, using a night stick to butter your roll, or filling your holster with breadsticks for later. Reading the Miranda Rights as a dinner prayer is also acceptable as is kicking the crap out of the lobster to get to the meat."

So as you can see Reverend, in this instance, your culinary rights have not been violated.

Hey! my face. Hey Guys I tried your suggestion on the tattooing a bra on so the strap won't fall. Now I have absolutely no support. When I run I give myself black eyes. Any suggestions on how to solve this problem?
-anonymous visitor-
Top five ways to stop your boobs from slapping into your face:
5. Duct tape and sponges.
4. Fabio, your personal trainer, holds them while you run.
3. Pet surgical funnel.
2. Pierced nipples and ten pound weights.
And the number one way to stop your boobs from slapping into your face:
1. Forget trying to stop the damn things, get protective eyewear.

Do you know what the "H" in Jesus H. Christ stands for?
-Mad Anthony Wayne-
It's either "Holier-than-thou" or "Hock a luggie." Jesus "Hock a Luggie" Christ. It depends on your interpretation. Of course the Eubonic translation is "Jesus Homeboy Christ."

Should I be scared when Jehovah Witnesses come to the door? Or are they more scared of me than I am of them?
Jehovah's Witnesses are a tough no-nonsense kind of crowd, and have even been known to stand at the door with a Rotwieler on each buttcheek, and a poodle humping their leg, without even flinching. Best thing to do is answer the door with a bleeding beheaded chicken in your hand, wearing an "I Lucifer" t-shirt and say something like "Golly, you're just in time for the sacrifice."

..and Galvin goes into this question form, knowing he's been rejected the last 4 times. He must enter a suitably ridiculous question if he hopes to be accepted by the onions who now rule his life. He swallows hard and squeaks... "What's your favorite planet ?" Then stands, and waits....
The big one with the polka dots, Spanky doesn't actually have a favorite, but she can't stand Uranus.

Can small woodland creatures be hazardous to your health? I'm going camping and really need to know!!
-anonymous visitor-
Camping can be safe, as well as fun, if you just remember to bring along the proper safety equipment. Goggles, a helmet, steel toe hiking boots and flame retardant underwear. Boy, I don't mind telling you, a raccoon in the eye is mighty inconvenient and the helmet has saved me a trip to the hospital on more than one occasion (dead drunk falling squirrels). Stubbing your toe on a fluffy bunny has sent many a camper limping home. The underwear is a more recent addition to the traditional "Campers Safety Kit," apparently some overzealous ranger taught gophers how to rub two sticks together.

If I was to come and visit you, where would I go? DO you like, live on a different planet made only for onionheads or something?
Due to a misunderstanding with Don "La Machine" Potato Head, we're currently members of the vegetable relocation program and are unable to reveal our whereabouts at this time.

Hello Sparky, and Spanky, it's been a while since I've been here, Sophomore year has been a @#$%^! So... I would like to ask what would you do to do all your homework and also have some time left for fun things like checking out your kewl page.
Hey, why not submit some of your homework questions, we'll answer them, you give our URL to your teacher, they'll grade the website, you'll get an A, we'll get a new visitor, and everybody'll be happy.

Why do we have to take social studies in school? We don't need to know stuff that happened 300 years ago. I think it's stupid.
300 years? Are you kidding, I need a class that'll tell me what happened 5 minutes ago.

If you went into a "no shoes, no shirt, no service" restaurant without any pants, would they serve you?
Yes, but I don't think they'll allow you near the salad bar.

So after 3,826 fan letters to Poppin’ Fresh, the Pillsbury Doughboy, professing my unending love, I finally got a response. Was it from Poppin’ Fresh himself? NO! (Oh sorry, I answered that one for you.) What it was, my onion-headed friends, was a form letter with a coupon for cinnamon buns enclosed. So I went out and purchased these delectable goodies. Where they incredibly delicious? Absolutely! (Oh sorry, I answered that one too...) My question is, how can they get those yummy bakery treats jammed into that tiny vacuum-packed container? Is it magic?
A little pastry plunger, with a big burly guy on the other end.

Did my Karma just run over your Dogma?
-Sly's Mother-
Can't be me, my Superego is in the shop getting winterized.

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