Princess Zurg and Mister Bubby discuss middle school

Princess Zurg: So how is it, getting changed in the locker room?

Mister Bubby: It’s fun. Because the boys and girls share a locker room.

PZ: No, they don’t!

MB: And the girls take showers.

PZ: They do not!

MB: Just kidding.

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Religion and public school intersect

Mister Bubby: There’s this kid at my school named John Baptist.

Madhousewife: That’s a cool name.

MB: Yeah. He just transferred from band to choir. Then he started healing people.

Mad: Impressive.

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????

Princess Zurg: I don’t get what’s so complicated about wearing pants. I mean, you put one leg in, you put the other leg in, and you’re done!

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Sugar Daddy and the new health regimen

Sugar Daddy: So I was feeling very carb-needy this afternoon, and I found something in the cafeteria that was very wrong.

Mad: What now?

SD: Lucky Charms Treats.

Mad: That was a mistake.

SD: There was something that made it even more of a mistake.

Mad: What?

SD: Frosting.

Mad: Why would you do that?

SD: Well, I think I haven’t been taking in enough calories for the amount of exercise I’ve been doing–

Mad: There are better sources of calories than Lucky Charms Treats.

SD: Like what?

Mad: Anything?

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Not overheard, but seen randomly on the interwebs

“Romney’s campaign is so dead the Mormons have baptized it.”

Obscure religious humor, FTW.

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Epilogue

Speaking of death, I really don’t want this blog to die. I’m just having a hard time thinking of stuff to talk about anymore. Life is kind of boring, which is good, in a way, but also kind of boring. I mean, I’d like to quit blogging because I’m too busy doing more interesting stuff, not because even my inner life has lost meaning for me. What a terrible waste it is to lose one’s mind, or to not have a mind. Who said that, gentle readers? I’ll save you the Google. It was Dan Quayle. And what is Dan Quayle up to these days? I don’t know. Maybe he has a secret blog. We can only dream. (Because who cares what he’s really up to?)

Maybe I’ve said everything I have to say. Maybe I’m meant to devote the rest of my life to laundry and clogging. I suppose I could do worse. Or maybe I need better prescription drugs. You know what I really need? For the stupid phone to stop ringing.

And now I have 40 minutes until my mother-in-law comes over here. I should probably start on that laundry. Gentle readers, adieu.

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