Earth is the Insane Asylum for the Universe

mountain sunset

Smoky Mountain Sunset

This nonsense was originally posted in another one of my venues. Caution: text contains a mature theme and adult language.

    Jason Everhardt has joined Comedy Corner on 06/01/99 at 18:42:35

    Just got back from vacationing in the Great Smoky Mountains with the fox I told you about two weeks ago, the one with the great, tanned legs. Come to find out, her other proclivities exhibited that Coppertone glow also, with no tan lines whatsoever.

    I grew fond of the Smokies while living in East Tennessee, working in the region and going to a university nearby. When things got heavy for me there, I would pack up the VW and head to Natahala Gorge, North Carolina, for getting in some white-water rafting. Or else, I would drive up to Clingman’s Dome, the second highest mountaintop east of the Rockies, and watch the eagles soar from high above them.

    This time we stayed in Gatlinburg, which is on the Tennessee side of the mountains and reminds me of an ocean resort, an asphalt-and-concrete boardwalk without the ocean. Sprawling arcades, amusements, museums, little shops with novelties, and a cable ride to the top of the scenic purlieu all garnish the rural city’s main drag. We spent a few days camping out and the rest of the time living luxuriously at Motel Sex.

    While returning home, to wallow away the time, we searched for and jotted down bumper-sticker slogans, which I’d like to share what we gathered with you:

      The sex was so good that even the neighbors had a cigarette.

      I don’t suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it.

      If ignorance is bliss, you must be orgasmic.

      Jesus is coming. Everyone look busy.

      Some people are alive only because it’s illegal to kill them.

      I used to have a handle on life, but it broke off.

      Don’t take life too seriously. You won’t get out alive.

      WANTED: Meaningful overnight relationship.

      You’re just jealous because the voices only talk to me.

      BEER: It’s not just for breakfast anymore.

      I got a gun for my wife. Best trade I ever made.

      So you’re a feminist. Isn’t that cute.

      Jesus saves and Gretsky steals—SCORE. [Editor’s note: remember this was written in 1999.]

      Earth is the insane asylum for the universe.

      To all you virgins: thanks for nothing.

      I’m not a complete idiot. Some parts are missing.

      My kid had sex with your honor student.

      My Stoner smoked your honor student.

      My kid beat-up your honor student.

      Earth first! We’ll mine the other planets later.

      How can I be overdrawn? I still have checks.

      Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.

      Jesus loves you. Everyone else thinks you’re an asshole.

      I’m just driving this way to piss you off.

      Out of my mind; be back in five minutes.

      Keep honking! I’m reloading.

      As long as there are tests and exams, there will be prayer in public schools.

      I don’t have to be dead to donate my organ.

      Sometimes I wake up grumpy. Other times I let her sleep.

      God must love stupid people. He made so many.

      The gene pool could use a little chlorine.

      Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

      It is as bad as you think and they are out to get you.

      I took an IQ test and the results were negative.

      It’s lonely at the top, but you eat better.

      Jesus paid for our sins. Now lets get our money’s worth.

      Give me ambiguity or give me something else.

      Elvis is dead and I’m not feeling too good myself.

      We are born naked, wet and hungry. Then things get worse.

      I want to die in my sleep like my grandfather, not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

      A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste.

      Always remember you’re unique, just like everyone else.

      Lottery: A tax on people who are bad at math.

      Consciousness: that annoying time between naps.

      Be nice to your kids. They’ll be choosing your nursing home.

      Three kinds of people exist: those who can count and those who can’t.

      Ever stop to think and forget to start again?

    We may have passed Fargo in “The Big Johnson” on the way back. A slapped-on bumper sticker was pasted on the rear of his recreational vehicle. It read: “How’s my driving? With any complaints, call 1-800 Fuck You!”

    Jason Everhardt left Comedy Corner on 06/01/99 at 19:15:51


About Mike Slickster

As an early retiree with an honorary doctorate degree from the proverbial "School of Hard Knocks," this upcoming author with a lot of free time on his hands utilizes his expansive repertoire for humorous yet tragic, wildly creative writing that contains years of imaginative fantasy, pure nonsense, classic slapstick, extreme happiness and searing heartbreak; gathered by a wealth of personal experiences throughout his thrilling—sometimes mundane or unusually horrid—free-spirited, rock-'n'-roller-coaster ride around our beloved Planet Earth. Mike Slickster's illustrious quest continues, living now in Act Three of his present incarnation, quite a bit on the cutting edge of profundity and philosophical merriment as seen through his colorful characters, most notably evident in the amusing Thirty Days Across the Big Pond series, all of which can be found at
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