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When in Doubt, Pull a Fever Out!

Ah, there's nothing quite like having a new little game to play, and squealing for joy over it like a schoolgirl hopped up on sugar and hunky quarterback pheremones... and then, after a while, tiring of it... and eventually forgetting about it altogether... and then being bored one day, after a long, piehole-stuffing weekend, and remembering that it wasn't such a bad idea, after all, and trotting it back out for another chance.

Yes, folks, there's truly nothing quite like that.

Probably because such a thing has never happened before, quite like that. Until now, that is. 'Cause it's time for another bout of Punchline Fever!

See, what with all these (where 'these' very probably means 'you') BlogExplosion peepers zipping in here for half a minute -- no more, no less -- at a time, I thought it might be nice to give them something they can entertain themselves with for that length of time. As opposed to my usual lengthy, wandering 'diarrhea of the keyboard' approach, which this post is rapidly approaching. Focus, dammit! Focus!

Okay. So, in a nutshell, for you new folks, here's the deal:

1) I'll sit around, day and night, thinking of a short but flexible setup for a joke.
B) I'll post the best setup I can think of, but with a blank where the punchline should go.
iii) Then it's up to you to come up with your best line, and leave it in the comments, for all to snicker over.

That's it. I used to do it on Fridays, then I got bored, and I didn't do it at all. And now, I'm gonna do it on Mondays. Why? Because this is Monday, and I've got nothing else to talk about today. Deal, bitches.

So, without further ado -- back by (un)popular demand after a nearly five-month hiatus -- I bring you today's... Punchline Fever!:

Punchline Fever #21:
'In an effort to boost post-Thanksgiving sales, Butterball just launched a new ad slogan: "I likes my turkeys like I likes my women: _________________________"'

Have at it, folks. That's the best you're gonna get in thirty seconds' time, I'm afraid.

(Though, if you wanna stick around a little longer, you can always check out the Punchline Fever archives for more reader-submitted hilarity.

And you've got until next Monday to think of a punchline for this bit -- come on, that's a whole fricking week! How hard can it be, eh?)

And, as always, I'll get first crack, so I'll leave a comment now with my punchline included. So don't be shy, folks -- hop in there and catch the fever! Happy Monday!

Permalink | Comments (17)


'...spread-eagled on the table and smothered in gravy!'

(Oh lord, that's just wrong. Why did I think this was a good idea, again?)

With artificially injected chemical moisturizers

*shakes head*


*not right either*

Okay, I give it to Charlie *points up*
Can't beat that one for really disturbed.


(This is wrong in so many ways I don't know where to begin.)

Well plucked.


twice a year?

...well done and with no head? That's just wrong ;)

I like to stuff 'em personally.

:: BLUSH! ::

...with enormous, meaty breasts, golden skin dripping with aromatic juices, and with the delicate perfume of...garlic?

...with a cavity just waiting to be stuffed?

[I could go on like this all night, but it'll just get more and more perverse]

Overindulged, but just once a year.

Hot, golden and swimming in butter!!!

*I'm putting in men just because I'm a woman

I likes my turkeys like I likes my men: on his back..and nicely browned!! *blush

OK I am with the one who said spread eagle and smothered in gravy and the other who said Trussed... either way is fine.

*Brown in all the right places.

....with a pop up timer so you know when they're done.

... tender, juicy, succulent and ready to eat.
(No Ma, I never said that.)

But spreadeagled with gravy does sound really good too.

I knew I shouldn't have come here, but ... (hell, it's getting worse all the time - better stop before ... damn can't go there either).

People need to truss each other. I give up.

Melting in my mouth.

(men, since I'm a woman, but it works for both)


Now, that is amatuers.

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