I love my puns.
Its snowing in New York. Finally. I was getting nervous there.
I was in a cab the other night on my way back to queens. It was friday night so of course the cabs were out in full force looking like a flock of misshapen yellow birds. Its black history month or as I like to call it “the month I can get a cab” -out of respect for my peoples struggle (even though 3 cabs looked at me and kept going before I got into this one). Anyhoo, I was in this cab headed home when I see a cab next to us with PHAT rims. Rims? Rims!! Ahem, why does a cab have really nice rims? I kept trying to look at them through the mild frost of the window. My driver seemed a little concerned about what I was trying to look at (does he have some maps and schematics he didn’t want me to see? If you laughed at that it means you assumed he was Arabic you racist! Some terrorists are Greek you racist you.) I badly wanted to know what kind of cab driver would put rims on their cab and finally we pulled up right next to him and it was a Sikh complete was turban and beard. AND he had a gold chain around his neck. Yes a GOLD CHAIN. Holy shit.
Second verse same as the first.
I was at Best Buy the other day buying some very neccesary equipment for world domination…uh…I mean my computer and for some reason I was having Phlatulence. Phlatulence is Phat Flatulence: gas that’s hilarious. You’re not embarrased. Its just funny. My theory about my gas is that it might have to do with me mouthwashing with saltwater lately. Maybe the small amount i’ve been swallowing has given me the poot poots (I’m a kindergarten teacher). Anybay, I was looking at some plutonium…uh…disks and I let one go. There are the farts that you feel coming: the knock at the door farts. “Hello? Somebody there?” And then there are the ones who sneak up on you likea burglar. You don’t realize their presence until they are suffocating you in your sleep (that’s a drak comparison). This was a burglar. Before I knew it, I had let go a nasty full bodied aroma that is the closest a person could come to knowing the smell of a zombie. And I do mean “let go” like loosing control of the reigns of the Pharty Phoenix. The moment I walked away from the crime scene an unlucky Best Buy employee walked into this fog and exclaimed the very apt “DAMN!” In the black people way “DAYYYAMN!” I laughed. There was nothing else I could do. I tunred the corner and looked back in time to see the man eyes explode. My bad.