At length I remembered the last resort of a great princess who, when told that the peasants had broken into her royal bakery and were hurling the contents into the street, replied: “Then let them yeet cake.”

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So a baker bought a big Tupperware to transport sweet treats without crushing them. Their assistant saw this and said “I’ve seen some strange thing in my day, but that takes the cake.”

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Q: Why didn’t the motorcycle go anywhere?

A: It was two tired.

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One day, I met an orc and asked him why he followed the Dark Lord of Mordor.

“The name Sauron has a nice ring to it,” he said with a shrug.

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Q: Why did they put Susie on the cello without training her on a smaller string instrument first?

A: They didn’t want a history of violins on her permanent record.

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I’m trying to think of a good pun about sperm, but nothing is coming.

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That horror movie was like a Girl Scout camp. They were both pretty in tents.

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Q: Why was the triangular ratio unable to get a home loan?

A: Because it needed someone to cosine.

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Laslo Sunseri hated the letter “M.” No one was quite sure why; perhaps it had something to do with the old Wonky M Ranch going under. Perhaps the day they had covered the letter “M” on Sesame Street had been a really bad one.

Laslo liked to hang out in the square, feeding the pigeons and telling anyone who would listen how much of a menace the letter was, always taking as much care as he could to never use the letter itself save to denigrate it.

One day Jamie Parkerson came to the square looking for Henry, his uncle. Henry was about the same height and the same age as Laslo and a bit of a pigeon-feeder himself, so Jamie approached the latter from behind, thinking it was his uncle.

“Umm…Mom wants to know if you want meatballs or mash for dinner,” Jamie said.

Whipping around, Lazlo startled the boy with the ferocity of his reply. “Don’t be so careless in using that accursed letter, boy!” he cried. “The letter ‘M’ is the tool of the devil! The letter ‘M’ is a pox upon our language! Call those beef spheres if you have to, call it potato pudding if you have to, but never, ever use the letter ‘M’ except to curse its foul sound to the heavens!”

Startled, the boy mumbled a reply and beat a hasty retreat.

“Who’s that?” said a concerned passerby who knew Jamie from elsewhere, wondering what all the shouting was about.

“Well,” said Jamie, “He’s not Uncle Henry, but he sure is anti-M.”

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Did you hear the one about John Occam?

No, what about him?

After he got divorced, his wife sued him for parsimony.

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