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Lionesses have no manes. How do they know when they've grown up?

September 25, 2006
Ummm....I think maybe the male lions will let them know.

If you were a wrestler, what would be your finishing move?

September 24, 2006
Just when I have you right where I want you, I use my patented "What the hell are we fighting for? Let's go out for a few martinis and score some babes." move. As soon as you've had one too many martinis, your ass is toast!

What would you name your ballet inspired by the sight of children leaping through a garden sprinkler?

September 23, 2006
Man, do you know what wet children smell like? Sheesh.....

...but I wrote the damn thing, so I guess I'll call it 'Hey You Brats...Stay Out of My Garden!'

Your people want to make a statue in your honor. What will it be made out of and what victory will it commemorate?

September 21, 2006
Ahhh, my people the Chicken Monkeys. They're just so cute.

My statue will be a commemoration of the great victory we achieved over the evil axis of the Turkey-Lemur, Budgie-Koala and Albatross-Rhinoceros empires in the epic Global War on Hyphenation. It will be constructed exclusively from our unlimited supply of unhyphenated absurdities.

Radio wire is often used to make bird nests. What station do they listen to?

September 12, 2006
I'm not sure what their favorite is, but you know when a bird flies into the glass window on a skyscraper? Thats what happens when they can't find a station thats in tune with their chirping. It just messes them up.

What did you dream when you ate a spider while sleeping?

September 10, 2006
Look, I know I told you all that I was sleeping when you saw me do that, but....well, I wasn't.

I like eating spiders, OK? Is that a crime? I mean, It's not like spiders are dogs or hamsters or anything. They just look so damn tasty I can't help myself. I've been doing it for years, hiding behind lies, telling everyone I'm asleep when, really it's just a spider.

They're crunchy, like dry angelhair pasta. With sauce built in.

Try writing your name with your other hand. Where was that person raised?

September 08, 2006
Looks like chicken scratches to me, er, I mean me. But my other hand is attached to the rest of me just like this hand, so what must have happened is, when I was 2, I was knocked unconscious by Col. Sanders and taken to his chicken farm, where I was raised by the hens to be their left-handed historian - the official chronicler of the Saga of the Chickens. When I was 10 I was knocked unconscious again and returned to my real family with no memory of my life and responsibilities with the chickens.

Now, having finally remembered, I can continue with my true calling to foster understanding between the world of men and the realm of the chicken.