The Shattered Prayer

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Some of my favouriteDeep Thoughts by Jack Handey:

I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they’d never expect it.

We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients. But we can’t scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me.

Most people don’t realize that large pieces of coral, which have been painted brown and attached to the skull by common wood screws, can make a child look like a deer.

The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.

I hope they never find out that lightning has a lot of vitamins in it, because do you hide from it or not?

If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave man, I guess I’m a coward.

If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.

You know what’s probably a good thing to hang on your porch in the summertime, to keep mosquitoes away from you and your guests? Just a big bag of blood.

Anytime I see something screech across a room and latch onto someone’s neck, and the guy screams and tries to get it off, I have to laugh, because what IS that thing?!

It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.

When you go in for a job interview, I think a good thing to ask is if they ever press charges.

He was a cowboy, mister, and he loved the land. He loved it so much he made a woman out of dirt and married her. But when he kissed her, she disintegrated. Later, at the funeral, when the preacher said, “Dust to dust,” some people laughed, and the cowboy shot them. At his hanging, he told the others, “I’ll be waiting for you in heaven - with a gun.”

I wish a robot would get elected president. That way, when he came to town, we could all take a shot at him and not feel too bad.

I think somebody should come up with a way to breed a very large shrimp. That way, you could ride him, then after you camped at night, you could eat him. How about it, science?

He was the kind of man who was not ashamed to show affection. I guess that’s what I hated about him.

As the evening sky faded from a salmon color to a sort of flint gray, I thought back to the salmon I caught that morning, and how gray he was, and how I named him Flint.

Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis.

Why do the caterpillar and the ant have to be enemies? One eats leaves, and the other eats caterpillars. Oh, I see now.

If you’re ever stuck in some thick undergrowth, in your underwear, don’t stop and think of what other words have “under” in them, because that’s probably the first sign of jungle madness.

I wish I had a dollar for every time I spent a dollar, because then, yahoo!, I’d have all my money back.

How come the dove gets to be the peace symbol? How about the pillow? It has more feathers than the dove, and it doesn’t have that dangerous beak.

I hope that after I die, people will say of me: “That guy sure owed me a lot of money.”

Sometimes life seems like a dream, especially when I look down and see that I forgot to put on my pants.

I hope in the future Americans are thought of as a warlike, vicious people, because I bet a lot of high schools would pick “Americans” as their mascot.

If God dwells inside us, like some people say, I sure hope He likes enchiladas, because that’s what He’s getting.

It’s funny that pirates were always going around searching for treasure, and they never realized that the real treasure was the fond memories they were creating.

The land that had nourished him and had borne him fruit now turned against him and called him a fruit. Man, I hate land like that.

I bet a fun thing would be to go way back in time to where there was going to be an eclipse and tell the cave men, “If I have come to destroy you, may the sun be blotted out from the sky.” Just then the eclipse would start, and they’d probably try to kill you or something, but then you could explain about the rotation of the moon and all, and everyone would get a good laugh.

It’s true that every time you hear a bell, an angel gets its wings. But what they don’t tell you is that every time you hear a mouse trap snap, an Angel gets set on fire.

When I think back on all the blessings I have been given in my life, I can’t think of a single one, unless you count that rattlesnake that granted me all those wishes.

I think a cute movie idea would be about a parrot who is raised by eagles. It would be cute because the parrot can’t seem to act like an eagle. After a while, though, to keep the movie from getting boring, maybe put in some pornography. Later, we see the happy parrot flying along, acting like an eagle. He see two parrots below and starts to attack, but it’s his parents. Then, some more pornography.

Just as irrigation is the lifeblood of the Southwest, lifeblood is the soup of cannibals.

If I ever opened a trampoline store, I don’t think I’d call it Trampo-Land, because you might think it was a store for tramps, which is not the inpression we are trying to convey with our store. On the other hand, we would not prohibit tramps from browsing, or testing the trampolines, unless a tramp’s gyrations seemed to be getting out of control.

I guess more bad things have been done in the name of progress than any other. I myself have been guilty of this. When I was a teen-ager, I stole a car and drove it out into the desert and set it on fire. When the police showed up, I just shrugged and said, “Hey, progress.” Boy, did I have a lot to learn.

Sometimes I think I’d be better off dead. No, wait, not me, you.

I remember one day I was at Grandpa’s farm and I asked him about sex. He sort of smiled and said, “Maybe instead of telling you what sex is, why don’t we go out to the horse pasture and I’ll show you.” So we did, and there on the ground were my parents having sex.

If someone told me it wasn’t “fashionable” to talk about freedom, I think I’d just have to look him square in the eye and say, “Okay, YOU TELL ME what’s ‘fashionable’.” But he won’t. And you know why? Because you can’t ask someone what’s fashionable in a smart-alecky way like that. You have to be friendly and say, “By the way, what’s fashionable?”

One thing vampire children have to be taught early on is, don’t run with a wooden stake.

A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. “Hear that?” you say. “That’s dynamite, baby.”

Instead of trying to build newer and bigger weapons of destruction, we should be thinking about getting more use out of the ones we already have.

I guess we were all guilty, in a way. We all shot him, we all skinned him, and we all got a complimentary bumper sticker that said, “I helped skin Bob.”

In my opinion anyone interested in improving himself should not rule out becoming pure energy.

Worship the potato? The idea seemed silly to me. But then I thought, what else is more deserving of worship? It’s simple, it comes from the Earth, and it can kill you if you disobey it.

Higher beings from outer space may not want to tell us the secrets of life, because we’re not ready. But maybe they’ll change their tune after a little torture.

When you die, if you get a choice between going to regular heaven or pie heaven, choose pie heaven. It might be a trick, but if it’s not, mmmmmmm, boy.

Consider the daffodil. And while you’re doing that, I’ll be over here, looking through your stuff.

Buy me a beer!

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