Jack Handey is in the house

So I had this nice, serious post going based on the following: Life is hard, and precious, and painful, and beautiful beyond measure. It's something I read last week and it really stuck me.

Instead, I googled "Jack Handey."

If I could be a bird, I'd be a Flying Purple People Eater because then people would sing about me and I could fly down and eat them because I hate that song.

If God dwells inside us like some people say, I sure hope He likes enchiladas, because that's what He's getting.

My young son asked me what happens after we die. I told him we get buried under a bunch of dirt and worms eat our bodies. I guess I should have told him the truth - that most of us go to Hell and burn eternally - but I didn't want to upset him.

Contrary to what most people say, the most dangerous animal in the world is not the lion or the tiger or even the elephant. It's a shark riding on an elephant's back, just trampling and eating everything they see.

I hope that someday we will be able to put away our fears and prejudices and just laugh at people.

Sometimes life seems like a dream, especially when I look down and see that I forgot to put on my pants.

If they ever come up with a swashbuckling school, I think one of the courses should be laughing, then jumping off something.

You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who make people happy, but inside he's real sad. Also, he has severe diarrhea.

It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.

What else can you say?