My father, the deer hunter, loved to travel. I still remember his advice. “Go to Venice, son.“
I can’t hear up in an airplane. It’s too cloud.
Hear about the gay tourist in Egypt who was excited to see the sphincts?
I packed nothing but a feather for my flight to the Czech Republic, figuring that would be the most Prague tickle thing.
Take public transit? Hellz yeah, that’s how I bus to move.
When I went to Iran I was Persiana non grata.
No flights to France will be delayed. It’s Gaul on time’s Day!
Don’t drink anything while vacationing in the Caribbean. Especially in Jamaica. You’ll get the rums.
When I was on vacation in Europe I hooked up with a chess player. I came a pawn her in Prague; I made my move, and man it was Czech mate. What a knight! She looked like a queen-cut lass, but turned out quite kingky. The next day I felt great, like I could have done a hundred bishops. That’s something I’ll never get board of: the thrill of the chess!
I want a sex change. There’s nothing quite like living a broad.