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If every place on your body that you touch hurts, your finger is probably broken.

Recipe for instant shaman: add one drum and beat slowly.

DETECTIVE: What have we got?
EMT: Body's in here, detective.
DETECTIVE: My God. In my 15 years on the force I have never once seen a dead ghost.
EMT: Sir, we covered the deceased's body with a sheet.

Me(sitting in traffic): This would be a lot easier with a car.

Me: Yes, I'd like to book a two night stay.

Receptionist: This is an asylum, not a hotel.

Me: I know.

The cover of next week's "New Yorker" magazine πŸ˜‚ πŸš“

Career change: I'm now the head of the bread mafia.

I'll bake you an offer you can't refuse.

My wife: Our space heater died.

Me(trying not to panic): The....the sun?

A little something I wrote a few years ago.

You may be too busy to exercise kindness,
And courtesies common, there's no time for those.
Your life is so hectic and so damned important
That others can fend for themselves, you suppose.
There's no time for "thank you", nor "excuse me", "how are you?"
Trivialities all. Too much effort, no worth.
And I thought so too, until I was reminded:
Your next act might be your last one on this earth.

I'm the head of the Egg Mafia.

I'll make you an ova you can't refuse.

Why is an asp in the grass a snake, and a grasp in the ass a goose?

I'm gonna buy 2,000 pounds of steel wool and knit a truck.

Anything can be a boomerang if you throw it straight up.

I left my heart in San Francisco.

Because it's technically a container filled with liquid and the TSA doesn't fuck around.

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Postal Poet

CounterSocial is the first Social Network Platform to take a zero-tolerance stance to hostile nations, bot accounts and trolls who are weaponizing OUR social media platforms and freedoms to engage in influence operations against us. And we're here to counter it.