Free Hunt for One Hunter & One Observer from Lianga Safaris for 2016

[HunterMarkus]

Honestly, Officer, I wouldn’t have pulled over had I known you were just going to criticize me.

 

[HunterMarkus]

How can you ever be late for anything in London? They have 
a huge clock right in the middle 
of the town.

 

[HunterMarkus]

I’ve given up social media for the New Year and am trying to make friends outside Facebook while 
applying the same principles. Every day, I walk down the street and tell passersby what I’ve eaten, how I feel, what I did the night before, and what I will do tomorrow. Then I give them pictures of my family, my dog, and me gardening. I also listen to their conversations and tell them I love them. And it works. I already have three people following me—two 
police officers and a psychiatrist.

 

[HunterMarkus]

The last time we changed from daylight saving time, a preacher friend posted, “For those who habitually show up 15 minutes late to church, allow me to remind you that tonight is the night you set your clock back 45 minutes.”

 

[HunterMarkus]

Here’s a guide to American 
culture for Russians visiting the U.S., straight from Russian tour books:

“Women play a greater role in business. Often they insist to be treated exactly as an equal and not as a lady.”

“As a rule, the [social] invitation will be only on a weekend, and you don’t have to prepare for something extravagant. Everything is the same as ours, only with far less booze.”

“‘See you later’ should not be taken literally. That is a courtesy, 
and no more.”

 

[HunterMarkus]

My cat just walked up to the paper shredder and said, “Teach me 
everything you know.”

 

[HunterMarkus]

The biggest change after having kids was putting a swear jar in the house. Whenever I say a bad word, 
I have to put a dollar in the jar, and 
at the end of every month, I take all that money and buy myself a nice steak for being such a cool dad.

 

[HunterMarkus]

Jimmy Fallon asked his viewers to tweet #IGotBusted and share 
the most embarrassing times they got caught.

“I was on Facebook at work, and my boss walked up. I slammed down what I thought was my laptop screen, but it was actually my desktop 
monitor.”

“I lied and told my dad school 
was canceled. He said, ‘Let’s go see 
a movie.’ We got in the car, and he dropped me off at school.”

“I was Facebooking in church, and the usher passed by and whispered, ‘You better be texting Jesus.’”

 

[HunterMarkus]

“Has your son decided what 
he wants to be when he grows up?” 
I asked my friend.

“He wants to be a garbageman,” 
he replied.

“That’s an unusual ambition to have at such a young age.”

“Not really. He thinks that garbagemen work only on Tuesdays.”

 

[Silence]

My 11-year-old grandson spent 
a beautiful Saturday playing video games. His older sister tried coaxing him outside by warning, “Someday, you’re going to be 30 years old, single, and living in Mom’s basement playing video games all day!”

His reply: “I can only dream.”

 

[Silence]

Hanging up with my 90-year-old mother, I sighed, then said to 
my 96-year-old uncle, “She’s so 
stubborn.”

He shook his head sympathetically and warned, “You’re going to have trouble with her when she gets old.”

 

[Silence]

The cool part about naming 
your kid is you don’t have to add 
six numbers to make sure the name 
is available.

 

[Silence]

The water I was heating for pasta refused to boil, and if my 12-year-old son was right, I wasn’t helping by constantly checking on it.

“It’s like that old saying,” he said. “ ‘A watched website never loads.’ ”

 

[Silence]

A child psychologist had twin boys—one was an optimist; the other, a pessimist. Just to see what would happen, on Christmas Day he loaded the pessimist’s room with toys and games. In the optimist’s room, he dumped a pile of horse droppings.

That night, the father found the pessimist surrounded by his gifts, crying.

“What’s wrong?” the father asked.

“I have a ton of game manuals to read … I need batteries … and my toys will all eventually get broken!” sobbed the pessimist.

Passing the optimist’s room, the father found him dancing for joy around the pile of manure. “Why are you so happy?” he asked.

The optimist shouted, “There’s got to be a pony in here somewhere!”

 

[Silence]

Gauging from these exam 
excerpts, my college dance students had better stick with pliés.

“The costumes were vindictive 
of the style of dance.”

“I commend Bill T. Jones for 
his acts of true kindness and 
selfishness.”

“Dancers must have long limps.”

“At first, I had a hard time 
understanding and interrupting 
his movement.”

“Savion Glover’s purpose is to cross all racial and ethical barriers with his dance.”

 

[Silence]

Student: I don’t understand why my grade was so low. How did 
I do on my research paper?

Teacher: Actually, you didn’t turn in a research paper. You turned in a random assemblage of sentences. In fact, the 
sentences you apparently 
kidnapped in the dead of night 
and forced into this violent and arbitrary plan of yours clearly seemed to be placed on the pages against their will. Reading your paper was like watching unfamiliar, uncomfortable people interacting at a cocktail party that no one wanted to attend in the first place. You didn’t submit a research paper. You submitted a hostage situation.

 

[Silence]

I don’t want to brag or make anybody jealous or anything, but 
I can still fit into the earrings I wore in high school.

 

[Silence]

 

[Silence]

 

[Silence]