Your bedroom isn't cluttered; it's "passage-restrictive."

Kids don't get in trouble anymore. They merely hit "social speed bumps."

You're not having a bad hair day; you're suffering from "rebellious follicle syndrome."

No one's tall anymore. They're "vertically enhanced."

You're not shy. You're "conversationally selective."

You don't talk a lot. You're just "abundantly verbal."

It's not called gossip anymore. It's "transmission of near-factual information."

The food at the school cafeteria isn't awful. It's "digestively challenged."

Your homework isn't missing; it's just having an "out-of-notebook experience."

You're not sleeping in class; you're "rationing consciousness."

You don't have smelly gym socks; you have "odor-retentive athletic footwear."

You weren't passing notes in class. You were "participating in the discreet exchange of penned meditations."

You're not being sent to the principal's office. You're "going on a mandatory field trip to the administrative building."

Grandpa and Little Johnny are sitting on a bench in the park. Johnny asked, "Grandpa are you going to take that new Viagra?"

Grandpa, caught off-guard, looks at him and says, "No Johnny, I will not."

"But Grandpa, why not?" asks little Johnny.

Grandpa replies, "Well Johnny, because there is no sense in putting lead in your pencil if you have no one to write to."

A politician awoke in a hospital bed after a complicated operation and found that the curtains were drawn around him.

"Why are the curtains closed," he said. "Is it night?"

A nurse replied, "No, it's just that there's a fire at the empty warehouse across the street, and we didn't want you waking up and thinking that the operation was unsuccessful."

A ditzy girl was hunched over the bar, toothpick in hand, spearing futilely at the olive in her drink. A dozen times the olive eluded her. Finally, another patron, who had been watching intently from the next stool, became exasperated and grabbed the toothpick.

"Here, this is how you do it," he said, as he easily skewered the olive.

"Big deal," she muttered. "I already had him so tired out, he couldn't get away."