Take this short quiz and see if we can guess where you were born!
How do you pronounce Mayonnaise? A: May-uh-naise B: Man-uh-titz C: Carb-Jelly-o-h
What do you call the small lobsters that you find in rivers? A: Craw-dads B: Craw-my-dad-says-that-the-state-of-Oklahoma-might-take-our-farm-if-the-rain-don&rsquo;t-come
How would you address more than two people? A: Y&rsquo;all B: Youse C: Goose D: Hey you sons of bitches get away from my irrigation pipes.
What do you call a drive-thru store where they sell guns &amp; alcohol? A: That sounds very illegal. B: The reason I haven&rsquo;t left my car in weeks. C: Tommy&rsquo;s in Bixby Oklahoma. Next to the dust factory.
What do you call clouds? A: Clouds B: So many gooses. Where did they all come from? There is not enough bread in this world for the horde that blocks the sun. C: It&rsquo;s been hot for so long here in Oklahoma. The farm is dried up and paw is scared. We&rsquo;re all scared. The dust is always coming.
Results: Hey there fellow Okie!

Take this short quiz and see if we can guess where you were born!
How do you pronounce Mayonnaise?A...

Online Quiz

A successful relationship is about listening. That&rsquo;s why, when my longtime girlfriend started hinting at moving things to the next level, I took her to a fancy Italian place and proposed that we recreate the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp.
&ldquo;Wait&mdash;so you&rsquo;re not asking me to marry you?&rdquo; she stammered, repeating the exact same thing she had said last week when I accidentally proposed to her sister. &ldquo;Why would you think that? I never even gave you a ring!&rdquo; I replied, gesturing to the clump of pasta I had just removed from an engagement ring-box and immediately realizing how she might&rsquo;ve thought that.
This made me feel like a real asshole&mdash;a big, fat, stupid, ugly, good-for-nothing, down-on-my-luck, misunderstood, shy, sensitive, too-pure-for-this-world capital-A retArd. And I felt even worse when I saw that the pasta had gotten all tangled up and somehow managed to spell &ldquo;MARRY ME&rdquo; in huge capital letters across the table.
However, my girlfriend soon began to perk up, and after a little extra cajoling, agreed to recreate the spaghetti scene. &ldquo;You know, you might just be the best thing that&rsquo;s ever happened to me&rdquo; I said, staring lovingly into her beautiful blue blouse. &ldquo;Now hold this camcorder while I let the dogs out of their cages.&rdquo;
It took over fifty takes to nail the scene, but that was to be expected. After all, the dogs were first-time directors, and I kept spitting out my pasta because it tasted like a disgusting mix of flour, eggs, water and salt. It was all worth it though. When we finally kissed, I felt an incredible rush of happiness&mdash;mostly because our lips had created a pipeline that allowed me to suck the pasta from my girlfriend&rsquo;s mouth into my own, but also because I was in love!
After that I proposed and she said, &ldquo;No.&rdquo;

A successful relationship is about listening. That’s why, when my longtime girlfriend started hintin...

Proposal

I was born a blue boy, but my whole life I&rsquo;ve wanted to be a big green boy. Green boys get to be funny and fun and exciting, while as a blue boy I am constantly let down by my unfortunate blue-boyness. Green boys get to look like well fed grass and count money and pick up girls and say &ldquo;boo-yeah daddyo&rdquo; while us blue or tan boys are left saying &ldquo;bow-wow fippy&rdquo; in an ironic way that is un-fun.
When I was born like a boy is born my family had great hopes that I would be born, if not a green boy, then at least a yellow-green or sea-green boy. I too had great hopes as I was being born that I would be a green boy. But as I looked down to my feet I was very disappointed to find that they were the feet of a very blue-boy, a dark blue boy at that, even under the florescent lights of the supermarket parking lot. My parents hoped that, while born a blue boy, I would mature mauve then maybe even travel clockwise along the color-boy-wheel settling at a nice light-yellow boy.
But as of writing this, I am still very much a blue-boy. I am prone to blue-boy things like crying and not being able to enjoy certain fruits and not having any pets and not being able to drink a beer in one whole gulp. Sometimes if I look in the mirror and really think big-green boy thoughts and say to myself that I&rsquo;m green like green pea soup I can see myself almost as a green boy, definitely a lighter blue boy.
Every month in the mail at green boy houses come letters from the government with compliments like &ldquo;wow, has a green boy ever been as green as you!?&rdquo; and &ldquo;as a green boy myself, I am shocked by how like a fresh spring vegetable you are. You are as green as a really relaxed green frog that is sitting on some nice green moss.&rdquo; Us blue boys get passive aggressive death threats from our neighbors.
When green boys go to the fish market they can get wild caught Alaskan tilapia while blue boys have to stick our hands in the ice and ask the workers if we can please have some farm raised Chilean tilapa. We blue boys are also the workers at the fish markets so we are actually making ourselves put our hands in the ice and beg ourselves for the farm raised chilean tilapa. This is self hatred and is unhealthy and just part of being a blue boy.
Green boys get to go to dances with all the girls that they&rsquo;ve picked up and admire how much they look like a fresh-spring roll in the big mirrors at the Ritz. Their dates always know that the green boys will say nice things and that they will be a very handsome couple with the green boys because green is the color that is very complimentary. Meanwhile us blue boys are not at the dances. We are thinking about Fourier socialism and being unhappy and smoking cigarettes and thinking about how under Fourier socialism it would only be fair that the green boys get a bigger slice of the pie.

I was born a blue boy, but my whole life I’ve wanted to be a big green boy. Green boys get to be fun...

Why I Wish I Was a Green Boy Instead of a Blue Boy

Hey Everyone i just wanted to send out a house-wide email to alert you of a Special problem that has come to my attention and that is Kermit the green muppit frog is hiding somewhere and I think he means to do us har m.
I cant say when exactly Kermet gained entry to our house but i can say for sure that hes here to do something very very bad. He Seriously wouldn&rsquo;t be here if he didn t have a nefarious plan.
About 430am last night I was playing with my pipes tryin to solve a problem with the toilet flushing directly into the sink. When I heard A nois e, as scary as you ever heard. I know that noise anywhere. it was Karmit. He scurried behind my radiator which keeps my room warm n toasty. I was to scared too finish my pipes, so it keeps flushing and I have nowhere to wash my dish.
Please respons with your own typed letter put on a thumb-tack under this letter in the laundy room. Thanks and happy Holiday.

Hey Everyone i just wanted to send out a house-wide email to alert you of a Special problem that has...

Kermit

Want to stop mowing your lawn like a quivering pussy? Then shut the fuck up and buy the GRASS- FUCKER 5000. Now, instead of bending over, opening your ass, and letting the grass make you its bitch, you can cut it like a real man should. Oh, and one more thing. Fuck you.
Heard enough? Too fucking bad. The GRASSFUCKER 5000 uses whips, maces, and all kinds of sick shit to send that grass back to wherever the fuck it thought to come from. It only took the GRASSFUCKER team 4,999 tries to make a lawnmower that wouldn&rsquo;t kill the user right fucking away. The patent office took one look at our fucking blueprints and choked on their own balls. They&rsquo;re dead now. So if you&rsquo;re looking for some kind of lame-ass government approval, go get a lawnmower from Tampons &ldquo;R&rdquo; Us.
Looking to buy? Our phone number is 1-800-GO-FUCK-YOURSELF and our website is grassfucker.com/you/have/never/made/a/woman/climax. If you&rsquo;re the kind of swinging dick guy who&rsquo;s giving it to his wife eight times a night and fifteen times on holidays, you&rsquo;ll know where to find us. If not, well, Home Depot sells the perfect tools to kill yourself with.
Happy mowing, you leach-covered blob of fat and disappointment.

Want to stop mowing your lawn like a quivering pussy? Then shut the fuck up and buy the GRASS-FUCKER...

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