I'm on Jeopardy; Plus: Chapter Two

While we old folks in the Old Folks' Home may be old, we're not stupid. We may not know from computers, but we are Slide Rule City. No MP3's here, but plenty of 78's. We can still drive our cars (well, that's pretty stupid, but I'm just saying.) Further proof? I will soon be on "Jeopardy." You will recognize me easily: I'll be wearing a singlet and showing off my 6-pack (Bud, not abs). The other two contestants are women, so we'll have zero (0) prostates among us.

How I got to the finals was, I ran the category for "Tigers" in the preliminary round, like so:

Answer: What is a Bengal tiger with his dick pointing backward?
Question: The average length of this animal is 7 feet 10 inches.

Answer: What are seven red and six white?
Question: The tiger is known for having these stripes.

Answer: What human beings can't run as fast as deer?
Question: This is sometimes a favorite prey of tigers.

Answer: Why do the old ones gum the soft parts?
Question: Most tigers can crush the human femur.

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Yesterday I spotted you Chapter 1 of my book, tentatively titled "Hinky Dinky Parley Vous." I think I have time before lunch to give you Chapter 2, en toto (which isn't in Kansas anymore):

CHAPTER 2

Vivian continued to ponder how to get her artificial legs from the Post Office out to her home in Theda Tara. Leslie Howard was always around, but he was so, well, wimpy (although she HAD heard he was hung like a kangaroo). Perhaps she could divert a sled dog team from the Iditarod?

Meanwhile, Sherman continued his march through Georgia only to find Atlanta already in flames. So he had Pizzaro burn down all the rain forests in South America, which caused global warming.

This, of course, pissed off Raoul Amundsen, who was busily retreating from the South Pole. He told Dan Rather, "We were in slush up to our butt-cracks."

Rather later was fired for not checking whether Amundsen had a butt-crack, and whether his butt was the same age as his crack.


(I hope I'm not giving away too much of the plot here. I'm hoping to get rich off this book, just like all the other bloggers who write books.)

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The organ harvesters were here today. You know, the people who want you to carry around the Organ Donor card. I said I had some hickey-starved neck skin. They said maybe next month.