Concrete probably isn’t too wild about your impressions.

The following are jokes, my style:

A gorilla walks into a bar. The bar tender looks up at him and the gorilla says, “I’ll have a banana daiquiri.” The bartender says in a gruff tone, “We don’t serve your kind here.”  “Gorillas!” says the gorilla feeling insulted.  “No,” says the bartender, “Anybody who likes banana daiquiris!”

A communist walks up to a door and knocks, a voice says, “Bourgeoisie or Proletariat?” The communist says, “Vodka.” The door opens and the voice says, “That is the universal right answer.”

The obvious joke:

What does one F-18 say to another F-18?

“Hey watch where you’re pointing that afterburner.”

The not so obvious joke:

What does one F-18 say to another F-18?

“I’m sure glad none of those fucking F-22’s are around.”

Graniller it’s not what you think it is.

I’m pretty sure there is a Cougar Town in Bear Nation.

I’m a G-2 Fruit Punch whore.

The baby carrot is the veal of the vegan world.

I often feel like I am being watched by the sun flower and by sun flower I mean the drugged out hippie cult leader that got me high on heroin and dumped my defiled naked unconscious body into the drainage sewers in LA where it could be chewed on by deranged republican pundits hooked on Whoppers, Mickey’s Malt Liquor and low self-esteem raccoons with mommy issues.  Hey people can be hooked on raccoons, especially needy ones.