Mr. Odwalla was tolgerlatting his hasbiggi's

Mr. Odwalla looked sheepish, "It's my hasibiggi's plofu-molber." The cop tipped his hat. "Well, you were in a no-tolgerlatting zone, be careful next time." Mr. Odwalla cranked back

wards on the plofu-molbers tramepedli running over the cops foot. The cop screamed, "Ackelbardi! You're plattening my tutsicles!" Mr. Odwalla was perplexed. He'd added fresh fruit

from the babelbush to the breakfast bars, but hadn't expected this. The cop screamed at the medic "Shmeartz spionum! My foot! It's plattened!" The nurse examined his tutsicles

"Oh my, I think we have got a case of severe tutsiclus planus, DOCTOR!" Officer Michaels looked up "is it serious? I gotta pick up the kids at 7" "Now now, you are not going anywhe

re. Not with that huge tutsiclus hanging off of your left testicle," the doctor murmured. "It must be removed immediately." As the doctor warmed his butterknife, I wondered how I'd

escape this "doctor" who clearly was not a doctor as he was using a frying pan as a hat and a coffee mug as a stethoscope. The "doctor" mumbled something about toast before

I was able to scramble away from him and his medical malpractice. I just had to make it to a hospital before this baby came. I toddled about 20 feet when "Dr." Johnny Appleseed

just walked away. The contractions were coming one after another - no gaps. I was in a world of pain I'd never imagined and I had to push. This baby was coming NOW and I was on my

way to 3rd base. It popped out as I executed a face-first slide. "Out!" said the ump. The 3rd baseman may have tagged us on the umbilical cord, but soon we'd be safe at home (aww).