New Plan

I just had a fair to middling idea. Instead of mailing my tax papers directly to the IRS, I’ll first mail them to Dairy Queen Corporate Headquarters. The Dairy Queen CFO will note the error and instruct her secretary to return my papers along with several certificates for free Dilly Bars. As I have no use for these certificates, I will forward them to the IRS along with my returned tax papers. The IRS will be flattered by my casual largesse and will dispatch a inordinately large check my way. Do you see the beauty in my scheme? The cycle of life, the perfect circle? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh, and so forth? The sun also riseth, et cetera? At any rate, if this scheme doesn't pan out, I'm moving to Florida to get work on Days of Our Lives.

Purity

I just had a wonderful dream. I was walking around inside a giant metallic kiwi when I found a package of Pepcid. Then I ate the Pepcid. Suddenly, I was at the Yalta Conference and a man seated next to me had acid reflux. "Too bad - I just finished a package of Pepcid all by myself. I'm fresh out," I told him. Turns out he was Stalin.

I had a couple solid Stalin jokes prepared for this post, but I've decided to save them for marriage.