(For an example of what I'm getting at, see the Chicken Philosophy Joke page. Go ahead, I'll wait, it's worth a visit.)
So. Without further ado, witness
In Surreal Joke Form!
Q: How many pancakes does it take to roof:
A: It's all about the beauty of orbital mechanics when you start talking about roofing doghouses. What if a comet comes too near? And when am I going to find time to work on my novel if I'm helping you roof a doghouse?
A: All depends on if the doghouse is on the Registry of Homes. If it's a Craftsman-style or a Frank Lloyd Wright doghouse then it would definitely be worth saving, but then you'd have to go with matching-era pancakes. If it's one of those modern pre-fab doghouses then anything would work. I wonder if The Topiary Cow has anything going on with doghouses? Dogs and cows are both quadrapeds, right?
A: It's not a doghouse, it's an apiary. Here, I've got a sample of some of the honey and have I mentioned that it's bloody cold in Kensington today? Seventeen feet of snow and barely spring! The bees are hating it!
A: Seventeen, because that's how many syllables are in a haiku which, Irrelephant, you need to write one about doghouses and post it at Sparrow's whose deadline for the contest is Wednesday evening (eastern time!) Or I could write a breathtakingly lovely poem about doghouses while YOU roof it, you dear man.
Joan of Argghh's doghouse?
A: Not sure but I guarantee the GOP could roof it cheaper, quicker and more efficiently than any liberal president could! Who's with me! Power to the people! Now where's my drink and my .44 magnum?
A: What sort of doghouse roofing material scarred you as a child?
A: You know, it's an absolute rewarding hell to be a bilingual parent and wife who is hosting an online book club? Who has time to create beautiful artistic things, much less roof a doghouse? But then again, I have this beautiful chenille material that would look so nice on there...
A: Sorry, I've got far more important things to do than roof a doghouse with pancakes. Like go hiking into some gorgeous mountain range or have some marvelous adventure in Seattle while spending my retired days in the most beautiful part of the PNW you could ever imagine. Oh, then I'll write about it in a very disarmingly candid way that draws you in inexorably, like iron filings to a magnet. And yes, I know you're reading this, Em.
Mickey Glitter's doghouse?
A: Have you seen how many Golden Age movie starlets it takes to roof a doghouse? You must be kidding me! What you need is a clown, or better yet, Sarah! Jane! Smith! and a clown to do it for you. Ooh, S!J!S! and a clown, together? Hang on, I've got to Twitter this.
A: I wanna see Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs roof it, because he makes me walk funny. Oh, and here's a video of him half nekkid. And here's another. And another. 'Scuse me, I need to go rub one out!
Nancy Dancehall's doghouse?
A: There's no angels in doghouses, trust me, and dogs don't listen to extremely eclectic music either, so what's to bother with? Anyway, it's all fractals.
A: Could one of the ratties help? Because if so the work would be a lot more bearable. Maybe there could be a little rattie annex roofed in Chicklets?
A: You need to roof it in boobies instead. Want to hear about my balls?
A: Can we go trainspotting after we're done roofing? And when are you going to post some more Scotchlite photos on my Flickr group? Whassamatter, you afraid of your flash?
Vulgar Wizard's doghouse?
A: Fuck if I know but if you roof it I'll take a gorgeous photo of it and post it on Flickr for ya.
William Gibson's doghouse?
“Then send Pamela,” she said. “She understands all that. You have an army of people who understand all that. You must.”
“But that’s exactly it. Because they ‘understand all that’, they won’t find the edge. They won’t find the new. And worse, they’ll trample on it, inadvertently crush it, beneath the mediocrity inherent in professional competence. I need a virtual amateur for this. A freelancer.” And he sat back, then, and regarded her in exactly the way he’d regarded the tidy and receding ass of the Italian girl, though in this case, she knew, it had nothing at all to do with sex.
Will Wheaton's doghouse?
A: Any amount you like, just so long as you don't call me "The Boy" in a mediocre imitation of Patrick Stewart.
Oh gawd I love you guys! So, go ahead, you try it. I dare ya!