The only useful function of forced mask mandates is I can say whatever inappropriate thought I want from inside my head and I can never be described to law enforcement.


– I’m just about to run out of these latex gloves. If this covid drags out much longer I’m going to end up getting my hand pregnant.

– Why do all my romantic relationships end in three Hefty bags at the bottom of a quarry?

– I’m so afraid my girlfriend will uncover my secret shame, but that’s just crazy talk because she has no idea where I buried the seven nursing students before her.

– My date took me to a vegan restaurant where I ordered nothing. “What’s the problem?” she demanded. “Do you only eat meat?”

“It’s not that,” I shared, “it’s just I can’t enjoy a meal unless an animal has suffered. If you could assure me the chef is back there punching a cat in the neck while cooking a summer squash souffle, I’ll eat with gusto.”

– When I grow up I’d like to be a freelance proctologist doing pro bono work. I’m so altruistic.

– Hey, beautiful. Can I share my DNA evidence with you?*

– I’d walk a thousand miles barefoot through medical waste just to stand in your trash.**

And that’s the tame stuff, freely shared – in public – in the produce section of Sprouts. Welcome to my new normal, saying whatever I want behind the anonimity of a forced mask. It’s like taking the internet with me into public!

*This one was a pick-up line I used at Anodyne, although it was actually a pick-down line. My buddy and I had a bet to see who could get slapped first or kicked out of the joint first. Total backfire. The lass started giggling and then laughing and then offering to buy me a drink. We ended up dating for a couple of months.

**This line worked, too. Ladies have a twisted sense of humor.