A famous composer was also a cyclist. But he refused to ride his new bach, because of the handel bars. So he took it back to the chopin began to rattle off a lizst of complaints. “Grrr… Schwinns,” he cried. But the store owner didn’t understand his unwillingness to ride. ‘Hey, it’s beets hooven‘ he said, ‘especially if you’re bizet! I was hoofin’ the other day, and got gum on my schubert!’ Riding is certainly better than taking de bussy; except if your bike is too heavy. This fellow’s ride weighed 20 kilobrahms! He took a ride by a painter’s castle once and admired the moat’s art. But some half-German, half-Russian idiot almost ran him over – what a scheisskopfsky! The composer fell headlong into a dog turd: a wipeout of operatic proportions – it was poo-chinny! He almost baroque his face, and was so shamed he went into haydn. Lessons learned? Cycling is a taste one must a choir. But if you decide to give up halfway through a ride, de bussy now comes with a bike-rachmaninoff!
I made a pun in springtime. It was a May zing.
Be a lumberjack. Saw the world.
Whenever I leave the country people say I emigrate guy.
Is there Nintendo in France?
Which animals like to get drunk? Caribous. They love elkohol, they gazelle it down; especially Moosehead. There’s nothing quite like an ice cold deer.
Cowboys don’t roll joints. They tumble weed.
Boo-merang: when you angrily send back your pie.
Irritable Bowel Syndrome doesn’t entitle you to vacation, but you may take ‘time in loo’.
How do epic poets hijack a ship? “Prepare to be bored dead.”