Most people can’t write poetry. They should leave it to the prose.
Whenever I see five toes, I know something is a foot.
Call me scent o’ mental, but when I talk to you I can smell the crazy.
Cowboys don’t roll joints. They tumble weed.
Hear about the female student of interpretation theory, who rejected her boyfriend because he had fleas?
Yes, her man knew tics.
I got a bad haircut in Stockholm. Now I’m parting in such Swede sorrow.
Whenever I leave the country people say I emigrate guy.
I get upset about Asian canine-smugglers. They really know how to pooch my Bhutans.
To make math more sexy, be like Marilyn Monroe: Sum like it’s hot.
I made a pun in springtime. It was a May zing.