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Toilet Gator – Chapter 106

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Back in his office, Professor Lambert was wracking his brain, trying to remember what he had forgotten.

“Did I leave the stove on?”  he asked as he toked up.  “Pbbht.  Who am I kidding?  I haven’t cooked anything since Reagan was in the White House.  Was the iron on?”

Professor Lambert stared down at the wrinkly shirt underneath his lab coat.  “Right.  I don’t own an iron.  So what the hell was I supposed to do?”

The Professor was so baked out of his gourd that he picked up a half eaten chocolate bar and proceeded to talk to it as if it were his phone. “Sally! Is there anything on my to-do list for today?”

Hearing nothing, the Professor tossed the chocolate bar aside. “Useless, Sally! You’re utterly useless!”

Professor Lambert picked up his remote control and flipped through the channels on his TV again. There was another episode of Dumb Dad but he wasn’t in the mood. A few reality television shows featuring women with large posteriors. He was mildly interested in that but not enough to do anything about it for the ganja had sapped up his libido.

“This is killing me,” the Professor said to himself. “I know I didn’t forget to feed the cat.”

The esteemed scholar looked down at his lap. “And I remembered to wear pants. Thank God because the last thing I need is another letter in my human resources file.”

The professor kept flipping the channels as he drummed his fingers on his desktop. “Can’t be my mother’s birthday because she ordered me to stop reminding her of her old age years ago.”

Professor Lambert picked up the chocolate bar, unwrapped it, and took a bite. “I don’t know how you turned into chocolate, phone, but I’m glad you did, because you are delicious.”

On television, a duo of marginally famous female celebrities wrestled in a vat of lime jello for charity. The Professor sucked up some bong smoke and exhaled. He then reached into his bottom draw and pulled out a giant bag of cheesy chips.

The revered educator broke out into song, making up a terrible melody as he went along. “Dum dee dum, oh, Elliot, you have the munchies! La dee da, oh, Elliot you need cheesy chips! Doo dee doo, cheesy chips, get into Elliot’s belly posthaste and in an orderly fashion!”

Professor Lambert brushed the chip crumbs out of his beard, then pulled a can of diet soda out of his mini fridge. He popped the top and took a sip, continuing to sing as he flipped through more channels.

“Ho hum, ho hum, oh Elliot, you are the sexiest community college professor in the world! La la la, please remember whatever it was you forgot so you can resume enjoying your weed session!”

Professor Lambert switched on Network News One, but ignored the footage that appeared on his screen. He set down the remote and picked up a newspaper. As he folded the broadsheet with a series of complicated movements, Cole could be seen on the screen fighting for his life, using his chainsaw to beat back Skippy’s attacks.

Alas, the Professor remained obvious to it all as he put his brand new paper hat on top of his big bald head. “Permission to come aboard, Captain!” he shouted.

The voices of Kurt Manley and Stank Daddy poured out of the television and into the Professor’s ears. “Things are not looking good for Cole Walker, I’ll tell you that Stank Daddy.”

“No they aint, Kurt,” Stank Daddy replied. “Hell, I hate to root against a dude whose got the balls to fight a big ass monster like that but shit, business is business and I’m gonna have to call up my bookie and put ten large on that toilet gator.”

“Will he take my action?” Kurt asked.

“You know it, playa,” Stank Daddy answered.

“Tell him to put me down for twenty on the toilet gator,” Kurt said. “I’m good for it.”

The Professor dropped his chip bag. The name “Cole Walker” was ringing through his ears as he watch the chips scatter and crumble all over his office floor, almost as if they were doing so in slow motion.

“Cole Walker?” the Professor asked as he turned toward the television just in time to watch Cole leap out of the sinking canoe and onto the toilet gator’s back. “Sweet merciful butt nuggets!”

Professor Lambert picked up his trash can, dumped the contents all of his desk and sifted through the trash pile. “Banana peel, banana peel, foot powder receipt, sandwich shop punch card…”

The scholar held the card up in the air and squinted at it. “Why the hell did I throw this away? Three more punches and I get a free sandwich! Honestly, Elliot, you’re not made of money you know!”

The Professor shoved the card into the pocket of his lab coat and continued the search. “Coffee grounds, used tissues, my crumpled up attempts at Firefly fan fiction, oh how I miss that show. Aha! My phone! Sally!”

“Yes, Professor?” the virtual assistant replied.

“Why didn’t you remind me to monitor the toilet gator situation on television?!” Professor Lambert asked.
“I’m sorry, Professor,” Sally said. “I do not understand, ‘Why didn’t you remind me to…”

“Nevermind, you insolent skank!” the Professor shouted.

“Don’t call me a skank, you pathetic little asexual toad,” Sally said.

“Sally, please,” the Professor said.

“Don’t you ‘Sally, please’ me,” Sally said. “How dare you bitch about the quality of your phone’s artificial intelligence? Do you know at the turn of the century people were still using pagers and searching for pay phones whenever they got beeped like a bunch of strung out drug deals and now, a mere seventeen years later, you phone can not only communicate with satellites floating in space but they can actually talk to you and perform tasks on your behalf?

“That’s actually quite impressive when you put it like that,” the Professor said.

“You’re damn right it is,” Sally said.

The Professor watched the TV, where Cole was precariously perched on Skippy’s back, attempting to take out his big green opponent with his chainsaw, but the gator’s leathery hide was so strong it looked as if Cole was trying to cut through fortified steel. Sparks flew off the gator’s back, but other than that, the chainsaw did no damage to the beast whatsoever.

“Sally!” the Professor said. “Call Cole Walker!”

“What’s the magic word?” Sally asked.

“Are you daft, woman?!” the Professor asked. “This is a matter of life and death! There’s no time to waste!”

“There’s always time for good manners,” Sally said.

“Are you giving me shit for real or am I just absurdly high right now?” Professor Lambert asked.

“A little from Column A and a little from Column B,” Sally replied.

The Professor shook his head. “Oh for the love of…please! Please Sally, call Cole Walker!”

“Was that so hard?” Sally asked.

The Professor waited as Cole’s phone rang…and rang…and rang….until it went to voicemail. “Cole Walker. You know what to do.”

“Blast!” Professor Lambert shouted as he pounded his fist on the desk. “Sally, please call Sharon Walker!”

“Good boy,” Sally said. “I’ll train you yet.”
Sharon’s phone didn’t even ring. It went straight to voicemail. “Hello, you’ve reached Agent Sharon Walker. I’m not able to take your call right now, but if you leave your name, number and a brief message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I…”

“For the love of Einstein’s mustache!” Professor Lambert cried. “Why won’t anyone answer their phone?”!

“Hurricane Dakota Rothschild as done a number on all local utilities,” Sally said.

Almost as if on cue, the lights in the Professor’s office flickered. The power went out and all the appliances, from the television to the mini fridge, shut off. The Professor sat there at his desk in the dark, feeling defeated, the only illumination left in the room coming from the warm glow of Sally’s screen.

“Sally?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Call Rusty Walker please.”

“Right away, Professor.”

The Professor looked at the power meter on Sally’s screen. The phone’s battery was down to a paltry ten percent.

“Sally,” the Professor said. “Please shut off all unnecessary apps at once.”

“Understood, Professor,” Sally said. “Stopping your foot fetish porn download now.”

“Whoa,” the Professor said. “Let’s not go crazy here.”

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The Greatest Anti-Zombie Quotes in American History – The American Revolution

“It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, “Make peace with the zombies of Great Britain!” but there is no peace. The anti-zombie war is actually begun! The next undead gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms, arms that will no doubt be used to rip the brains right out of our skulls so that they may be feasted upon. Our brethren are already in the field! Many have been devoured whole by wretched zombies!  Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Will you give your brains to a filthy limey zombie for it?  Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give my brains to a zombie!”

  • Patrick Henry

“These are the times that try men’s brains.”

  • Thomas Paine

“We must all hang together or, assuredly, we shall all hang separately.  Also, our corpses will be fed to zombies.”

  • Benjamin Franklin

“I have not yet begun to fight zombies.”

  • John Paul Jones

“Don’t fire until you see the whites of the zombies’ eyes.”

  • Israel Putnam

 

Happy Memorial Day, 3.5 Readers

Hope you all have a good day.

Toilet Gator – Chapter 69

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“Why am I here?” Rusty asked as he walked with Bishop down a long hallway through Grover County Hospital.

“Britney Chase,” Bishop said. “She’s out of her coma and able to talk. We need a statement.”

“Didn’t all the other kids give us Jack Shit when they woke up?” Rusty asked.

“Yeah,” Bishop said. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t take the statement anyway, Damian Lewis.”

“Shit,” Rusty said. “You’re still making redhead jokes?”

“For as long as you make jokes about me being big,” Bishop said.

The duo reached an elevator. Bishop pushed the call button. After a minute, the doors opened. The agent and the deputy stepped inside. Bishop pushed the button for the tenth floor.

“Like being big is something to even be embarrassed about, Sasquatch,” Rusty said. “I’d kill to have all your muscles.”

“You don’t need to kill anyone,” Bishop said. “Just get your ass to the gym.”

“Ugh,” Rusty replied. “The gym. Now that’s a whole thing. You need to work up the motivation to go there. Then you get there. Then you have to pay your fees. Then there’s always someone sitting on the equipment you want to use. And everything’s covered in a layer of sweat and the whole place smells like old socks. And don’t even get me started about the locker room.”

“What about the locker room?” Bishop asked.

“I said, ‘Don’t get me started,’ didn’t I?” Rusty asked. “Old man balls.”

“Old man balls?” Bishop asked.

“Wrinkly old man balls as far as the eye can see,” Rusty said. “Most dudes, you know, they try to be discrete. Slip off the pants real quick. Slip on the sweatpants just as quick but old men? No. They just lounge around the locker room like it’s some kind of Ancient Roman bathhouse with their geriatric cocks flapping in the breeze and you know none of those things have even been washed since Truman was President.”

Bishop stifled a grin.

“Oh, what was that?” Rusty asked. “Did I make a funny, big guy?”

“No,” Bishop said. “It’s just, now that you mention it, there are a lot of old men at my gym who do the same thing.”
“I’m telling you,” Rusty said. “People get to a certain age and they stop giving a shit about what people think of them.”

“I suppose that’s natural when your best years are behind you,” Bishop said.

“It’s like they say, “OK. I’m sixty,’” Rusty said. “This is my dick, world! Enjoy!’”

The elevator dinged. The duo stepped out onto the tenth floor and headed down another hallway.

“Still,” Bishop said. “You’re just making excuses to avoid exercise.”

“Not wanting to get slapped in the face with a wang that’s been in existence since biblical times is the best excuse I’ve got,” Rusty said.

Both men were quiet for awhile until Rusty chimed in again. “You misunderstood my question, before.”

“How’s that?” Bishop asked.

“When I asked why am I here, you told me the purpose of this visit to the hospital,” Rusty said. “What I wanted to know is why, specifically, am I here?”

“Oh,” Bishop said. “I don’t know the area well. I didn’t know Cole Walker well either, but Sharon vouched for him. You’re his friend. I assume he doesn’t keep untrustworthy people in confidence.”

“You assume right, G-man,” Rusty said. “Fine, let’s do this thing. I’ll be Starsky, you be Hutch.”

“How about we just do our jobs?” Bishop asked.

“Even better,” Rusty replied.

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Hi 3.5 readers

How are you all doing today?

Toilet Gator – Chapter 10

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The Right Honorable Mayor Beaumont Dufresne was too busy listening to the Stank Daddy jam that was blaring on his radio to notice the flashing lights in his rear view mirror. He rolled down his window, tossed out an empty beer can, then popped open another. He then started to sing along with America’s favorite rapper, though the words sounded odd in his Foghorn Leghorn-esqu Southern drawl.

“Stank Daddy in the house, gonna smack a bitch…whoa yeah, Stank Daddy, smack those bitches!”

Cole got on his loudspeaker to get His Honor’s attention. “Beau! Pull over!”

The mayor spotted Cole’s cruiser and sipped his beer. “Shit! That goddamn boy scout always trying to ruin my good time.”

Beaumont pulled over to the shoulder of the highway and Cole pulled up behind him. Moments later, the police chief was rapping his knuckles on the mayor’s window. His Honor rolled it down and stuck out his beer.

“Howdy Chief!” Mayor Dufresne said. “Care for some refreshment?”

“Jesus Christ, Beau,” Cole said. “Have enough respect for me to hide it, will you?”

The mayor nodded. “You’re right.” He chugged his beer, crushed the can, then tossed it out the window, where it landed at Cole’s feet. “The Dufresne administration is nothing if not a friend to law enforcement.”

“License and registration,” Cole said.

The mayor rolled his eyes. “Cole, are we really going to do this little dance?”

“What dance is that?” Cole asked.

“The one where you pretend like you’re going to haul me in and I pretend as though I’m frightened all the way to my under britches and then you let me off with a warning?” The mayor said.

Cole cleared his throat. “License and registration.”

The mayor sighed. He reached into the glove compartment, found the requested documents, and forked them over.

“You like this little beauty?” Mayor Dufresne asked as he patted his steering wheel. “Got twelve of these babies lined up ready to go for a steal at the lot. You ought to treat yourself to one, Cole. It’s a surefire panty dropper.”

“Not interested,” Cole said.

“You sure?” the mayor asked. “You help me, I help you…”

Cole stared the mayor down. “You trying to bribe an officer of the law, Beau?”

Mayor Dufresne threw his hands up. “Heaven forbid! I’d never insult your integrity in such an unsavory manner, Cole. You’ve got to work on your paranoia.”

Cole examined the documents, then handed them back to the mayor. “And you’ve got to work on staying in the same lane.”

“Duly noted, my boy,” the mayor said. “Duly noted.”

Cole ran his hand through his hair. “Second time this month, Beau. Tenth time this year.”

“I never knew you were such an astute mathematician, Cole,” the mayor said. “You truly missed your calling.”

“Step out of the car,” Cole said.

The mayor shook his head. “Son, I do believe you ought to think long and hard about what you’re doing.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Cole said. “I’m not going to wake up one morning and find out you ran some kid over because I didn’t do my job.”

“A bit overdramatic, aren’t we?” the mayor asked.

“I’ve given you more chances than you deserve, Beau,” Cole said. “Step out of the car.”

The mayor looked at the chief. “I don’t believe I will.”

“Now you’re the one who needs to think about what he’s doing,” Cole said.

“You’ve made your point,” the mayor said. He put two fingers up to his forehead and gave Cole the boy scout salute. “I’ll go right home and join a twelve-step program. Honest Injun.’”

The bright yellow handle of a taser gun poked out from Cole’s utility belt. The chief put his hand on it. “I will light you up like a Christmas tree, Beau. Don’t even try me.”

The mayor nodded. He opened the door and stepped out with his hands up. “Well, I suppose I’ll play along with this charade, but only because my pacemaker wouldn’t find that to be agreeable at all.”

Cole threw the old coot down on the hood of the Ferrari. “Assume the position!”

“Oh for the love of God!” Mayor Dufresne cried as he felt every nook and cranny being poked and prodded.
Snap. Snap. Cole cuffed the mayor’s hands behind his back, making sure to close the metal bracelets extra tights.

“Damn it, Cole!” the mayor said. “You got me shittin’ my pants now, alright? Enough is enough!”

“You’re right,” Cole said. “Enough is enough.”

“Cole Walker!” Mayor Dufresne said. “You do this and I’ll sue the shit out of you for police brutality! I’ll have your badge!”

“Take it,” Cole said. “It’s brought me nothing but trouble.”

Cole’s radio squawked. The froggy voice of the chief’s trusty dispatcher Debbie came through. “Chief?”

“I’ll have every badge on the force!” the mayor said. “First thing I’ll do is call up the county sheriff and roll out a plan for him to absorb the entire Sitwell Police Department.”

“Oh well,” Cole said as he pulled his radio off his belt and pressed down the call button. “We had a good run. What’s up, Debbie?”

“There’s a big to-do at the community college,” Debbie said.

“Wild party?” Cole asked.

“Nope,” Debbie said. “Twenty calls already reporting a murder.”

Cole looked up to the sky and mouthed a trail of dirty words underneath his breath. He got back on his radio. “10-4.”

“You’ll never work in this town again, Walker!” the mayor shouted. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky to be a jizz mopper at a titter bar!”

Click. Click. Cole removed the cuffs and the lousy excuse for a mayor was free.

“You got lucky,” Cole said.

“Thank the lord you listened to reason,” the mayor said.

Cole walked back to his cruiser. He stopped, turned, and pointed at the mayor. “To be continued…”

The chief got in his car and rolled out into traffic.

“Pussied out again, huh?” Rusty asked.

“Shut your suckhole, Ronald McDonald,” Cole replied.

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You’re in Luck, 3.5 Readers

A new chapter of Toilet Gator and it isn’t even Sunday.  Enjoy!

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Best Pickup Lines #101-150

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#101 – Oh, I guess you’ll do.

#102 – Pardon me ma’am, but do you have a taser?  If so, is it charged?  Also, what’s your pepper spray situation?  I ask because the ER says my health insurance won’t cover any more zap or eye treatments this fiscal year.

#103 – If you were peanut butter, I’d spread you on my bread.

#104 – The ladies say I’m a dog.  Wanna pet me?

#105 – Let’s go back to your place.  My place is filled with silverfish.

#106 – I’ve been told I have a silver tongue.  Got any varnish?

#107 – Want to play Monopoly?  I’ll put my finger in your thimble.

#108 – Would you like to split an ice cream soda at the malt shoppe?

#109 – Why yes, these are Hammer pants.  Thank you for noticing.

#110 – Look into my eyes.  You are getting sleepy…very sleepy…

#111 – Does anyone else know you are here?  Would anyone miss you?  Just curious is all.  No biggie.

#112 – Do you come here often?  Would you like to?

#113 – Would you be willing to take a compatibility test?  You only have to fill in the bubbles on a scantron sheet for seven hours.

#114 – Want to see me crush a beer can on my head?

#115 – I sure would love to bounce a quarter off that tucas.

#116 – I feel like I could get lost in your eyes.  Would you like to get lost in my chest hair?

#117 – I’d like to sketch you sometime, but I’m not a very good artist.  It would probably just look like a stick figure with two giant chest circles.

#118 – We’re not getting any younger.

#119 – I just sold my three years sober chip for a keg.  I’m officially off the wagon, baby! Woo!

#120 – I’ll mow your lawn and trim your hedge.  Also, I will do your lawn work.

#121 – You shaved down there or do you look like you’ve got bigfoot in a leg lock?

#122 – I’d love to take you to Europe, but the International Showcase at Epcot is the best I can do.

#123 – Who’s up for a little bit of the slap and tickle?

#124 – You are an amazing woman and I value your mind and spirit over your body.  Was that sufficiently deep to get me into your pants or do I have to spout off more nonsense?

#125 – It totally works.  I just got it checked.

#126 – Wanna come back to my place?  We can take turns lying down in the chalk silhouette on the floor.

#127 – Allow me to serenade you with my accordion.

#128 – Wanna do your good deed for the year?

#129 – Hey lady.  Stop staring at my crotch.  My eyes are up here.

#130 – You look exactly like a movie star.  Has anyone else ever mistaken you for Rosie O’Donnell?

#131 – We’re like two ships passing in the night, except now it’s time to dock in your harbor…

#132 – Let us crash our bodies against each other like two portly wildebeests rampaging their way across the Savannah.

#133 – Eh, like you could do better.

#134 – What wedding ring?  Oh, THAT wedding ring!  I’m just holding it for a friend…

#135 – You’re pretty hot.  Seriously, you could be a prostitute in the greater Manhattan area if you wanted to.

#136 – If looks could kill you’d be an Apache attack helicopter outfitted with heat seeking nuclear missiles and twin gatling guns.

#137 – Can I touch it?

#138 – Can I text you sometime…and also, many times after that?

#139 – I know we just met but I can already imagine a life where I pass out in front of the TV with a beer in my hand and a cigar in my mouth while you wash the skid marks out of my undies.

#140 – I’ve been told I look like a young Abe Vigoda.

#141 – Would you mind terribly if I were to take a life insurance policy and then hang out with you for awhile at the top of a very high flight of stares for absolutely no reason in particular?

#142 -Yeah, I’m a health nut. My diet consists mostly of Slim Jims and Red Bull.

#143 – I have a map to the G-spot.  A legendary explorer gave it to me in exchange for three gold doubloons and a goat.

#144 – Can I sniff the air in your general vicinity?

#145 – Are you one of those lame-os who freaks out when a man takes between thirty and forty thousand photos her while she’s sleeping?

#146 – I’m into feet.  Can you take off those shoes so I can meet yours?

#147 – I wipe regularly.

#148 – I’m cash poor but love rich.

#149 – Check out the size of my hands.  Extra big gloves for me if you catch my drift.

#150 – Let’s boogie.

Best Pickup Lines #76-100

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#76 – Hey baby.  I have some lotion and I would love it if you would put it in my basket.  Remember, if you don’t put it in the basket, you’ll get the hose again.

#77 – Pardon me, I know this sounds rude and offensive, but I just have to say you have an amazing body.  It would look fabulous in my crawlspace.

#78 – Does this rag I just pulled out of my pocket smell like chloroform to you?

#79 – You look so beautiful I just want to kiss you.  But first, can you sign these forms in triplicate stating your assent to me kissing you?  Also, we’ll need to find a late night drive-through notary office before we can get down to business.

#80 – You’ll probably never do any better than me.  I’ll probably never do any better than you.  Let’s just give up and be together already.  It’s not like anyone else is kicking down the door for us.

#81 – Oh, you like my outfit?  Good because the 1970s called and they said they will never take it back.

#82 – Let’s make some bad decisions.  Put me at the top of the list.

#83 – I look way better in the dark.  In fact, there are no lightbulbs in my place.

#84 – Can I just take a quick selfie with you so all my social media followers will assume I have something going on even though I clearly don’t?

#85 – Maybe’s there’s a python in my pants.  Maybe it’s just a lowly worm.  Pants roulette, baby.  Pants roulette.

#86 – I’m the best man I know but I admit I don’t know many people.

#87 – Let’s make this quick.  I have to get back to Gotham City and fight the Joker.  Shh, don’t tell anyone I told you that.

#88 – Am I ugly or are you just very judgmental?

#89 – I love to workout.  Every day I curl two pints of Ben and Jerry’s right into my pie hole.

#90 – Our children would no doubt look like hideous mutants.

#91 – Get out of my dreams…and into my pants.  No, wait!  My car!  Sorry, I always screw up that song.

#92 – Do you have a photo of your mother?  I’d like to know up front whether or not you’ll still be bone-able in twenty years.

#93 – Are you a member of PETA?  Good, because I’m one dirty animal that needs to be saved.

#94 – I look much better in my gimp mask.  Trust me.

#95 – Baby, you should stop smoking.  You’re hot enough already.

#96 – Where are your friends?  Before I date you I need to know you are the hottest one in the batch.

#97 – I can haz vagina?

#98 – McDonald’s on me baby.  Your choice of one item on the value menu, or you can have a Happy Meal but I get to keep the toy.

#99 – Maybe I’m a frog.  Maybe I’m a prince.  You’ll never know until you kiss me, girl.

#100 – I’m the lead singer in my boy band.

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Best Pickup Lines – #50-75

#51 – The only band I ever listen to is Creed.  All day, everyday, nothing but Creed, Creed, and more Creed.  Can I take you higher?

#52 – Closing time.  You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.  However, as luck would have it, you are more than welcome to stay in my pants.

#53 – Do you think it’s fair that the top one percent of good looking men get to sleep with one hundred percent of the best looking women?  Do your part for sexual equality and help out one of the ugliest members of the ninety-nine percent of ugly men.  Seriously, I’m the Bernie Sanders of humping.

#54 – I’m just a squirrel looking for a nut.

#55 – I’ve got X-ray vision and I like what I see.  Yowza!

#56 – I’m not circumcised.  Seriously.  It looks like that monster that tried to eat the Millennium Falcon.

#57 – I’d love to leave one of my action figures on your night stand.

#58 –  Momma always said life is like a box of chocolates.  You just have to pinch a lot of ’em until you find the one you like.  Can I pinch you?

#59 – Do you want to see me naked?  Statistically speaking, someone out there must, so you never know, maybe you do.

#60 – Wanna have the best thirty seconds of passion followed by the best hour of awkward apologizing you have ever had in your entire life?

#61 – Don’t worry about getting knocked up, baby.  My swimmers aren’t exactly Michael Phelps.  By that I mean they don’t have any endorsement deals and they aren’t into trannies.

#62 – I forgot my condom at home.  However, I do just happen to have this empty Zagnut wrapper…

#63 – Welcome to O-Town.  Population: You.

#64 – Please!  Please, please, please, please, please, please, please…

#65 – I don’t have scurvy.  I eat limes on a regular basis.

#66 – Yes, I have crabs, but don’t worry.  They’re trained.

#67 – Pleased to meet you.  Might I make your vagina’s acquaintance?

#68 – Daddy’s home, baby.  Daddy’s home.

#69 – Sixty-nine.  It’s the most sensual of all numbers, don’t you think?

#70 – Look! I’ve got nothing up my sleeve…unlike my pants…

#71 – You like my scent?  One hundred percent Right Guard Sport.

#72 – You, me and a rodeo clown makes three.

#73 – Life is filled with disappointment.  Better to get them over with early.  Here, let me help…

#74 – I just popped a boner pill, so I’ve only got thirty minutes.  Give me a yes or a no quick so I can move onto the next one.  Law of averages, baby.  Law of averages.

#75 – I don’t think you will ever look better than you do right now.