Have you read this book? “On the Origin of Species” by Charles Darwin? Apparently, my description of my brother-in-law as an incompetent baboon wasn’t that far off.
Darwin claims we all descended from common ancestors. That’s all I need: even more relatives hitting me up for a loan.
The book talks about something called natural selection, also referred to as survival of the fittest. I’d like to think there are other reasons for me being here other than the fact that one of my distant relatives outwrestled a clam.
And get this: Darwin married his cousin, Emma Wedgwood. I’m no biologist but this is starting to sound like the survival of the creepiest.
Ladies, would you go out with anyone who asks, “Care to come back to my place and evolve?”
Darwin’s book is changing the way everybody looks at things. For example, Charles Dickens just updated “Great Expectations,” introducing Miss Havisham’s distant cousin, Petula Platypus.
Darwin did a lot of research on the Galápagos Islands. Can we pause here and give the cue card guy a round of applause for correctly spelling Galápagos?
Well, the big story this week has been the fall of the Roman Empire.
I would’ve heard about it sooner, but I was in the communal toilet extricating myself from a bad dish of lamb’s brain.
There’s no stability in the government. How bad is it? Three of my writers are deposed emperors and the fourth is a laid-off gladiator.
A lot of people are blaming the Empire’s fall on moral decay – at least that’s what I’m hearing from my wife who used to be my slave that I castrated.
Now you didn’t hear it from me, but things were never the same after we were invaded by Attila the Hun. Nothing personal but never trust anyone who’s name ends with “the Hun” – or begins with “barbarian king.”
Whoaa, I can see we have some barbarians in the audience. Don’t be so sensitive. My sister-in-law is a barbarian. My brother met her at a Raping and Pillaging mixer.
I’m sure you’ve all heard about this new thing called the telephone. It’s a machine that actually allows you to talk with another person at another location.
It’s kind of like smoke signals that don’t sting your eyes.
I could really use one of these. My teenager is always yakking away on the telegraph.
It was invented by a man named Alexander Graham Bell. Ever notice big things are always invented by people with three names: Alexander Graham Bell, James Clerk Maxwell? Just once I’d like to see something amazing created by a guy named Zeke.
The first words Bell spoke into the phone were, “Mr. Watson, come here — I want to see you.” Really? I think I would’ve gone the prank route with something like, “Hey Watson, help me. I’ve accidentally shrunk myself and I’m stuck in this little box!
If telephones take the place of telegraphs, does this mean we’ll now have to hum Morse code?
But you know what the greatest thing about the telephone is? You can talk to anyone while wearing only your long johns.