My sweet and sweets-concocting Girlfriend, Denise, baked up the above batch of gnarly-looking goodies that she calls “reindeer poop.” (The calligraphy above is mine.) I have not tried this delicacy, and will not till the 23rd owing to diet commitment, but I did invent a joke:
FLO: Pass the Reindeer Poop, please.
MOE: Can’t do that. The Reindeer beat me to it. But I’ll REpass it, if you want.
Is that an awful joke? Maybe–but it’s an original joke of my own invention. And as Mark Twain tells us, “The remarkable thing about a dog walking on its hind legs is not how well he does it, but simply that he does it at all.”
I was hoping it would be the first Reindeer Poop joke on record, but an Internet search reveals 7 hits for “reindeer poop jokes.” Is this the Age of Specialization, or what?
Happy Holidays, Friends!