Did you hear about the latest craze?
I did, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The answer is always: Laugh.
The new thing is throwing axes.
Yes, that’s right, there are places you can go and learn how to throw an ax.
You can even bring your friends.
Or your enemies.
A place to throw an ax just opened at the mall, and it’s called Bury the Hatchet.
I give them points for humor.
Also I suck up to people who throw axes.
I’m not criticizing them.
I don’t want to piss them off.
I suspect their aim is too good.
Apparently it’s a franchise, so these places are popping up all over.
Or chopping up all over.
What does this mean?
I remember when we used to throw darts.
Even that seemed dangerous to me.
They’re so pointy.
We should’ve stopped there.
It’s a slippery slope.
And evidently, a sharp one.
I blame this on Game of Thrones.
Or Game of Moans.
Everyone has gone crazy for primitive weaponry.
Let’s start a franchise that teaches you how to use one of those sticks with a chain ending in a spiky ball.
Or a franchise that will teach me what it’s called.
Oh, right, a mace.
I looked it up.
Or maybe we’re into fantasy weaponry, too.
My fantasy doesn’t include sharp objects.
You know my fantasy.
Not chocolate cake, the other fantasy.
The one with the gorgeous blue eyes.
The only thing cut on him are his abs.
Bradley, call me.
And after throwing axes, what’s next?
A place that teaches you to use a flamethrower?
How about a bazooka?
Step right up and shoulder a surface-to-air missile.
Just make sure you point it in the right direction.
Meanwhile, how hard can it be to fire a surface-to-air missile?
Terrorists do it all the time, and they’re stupid.
If they were smart, they’d have better jobs.
I bet I could fire one of those babies.
I’m sure it has an On and Off switch.
And one that says High and Low, like a blow dryer.
A really big blow dryer.
One question is, why is everybody so cranky that they want to throw lethal objects?
Is everybody really in that bad a mood?
Is it politics?
Netflix adding a couple of bucks to its membership fee?
Here’s a another question: Who is everybody throwing axes at?
Rather, at whom is everybody throwing axes?
Grammatically correct, but far less funny.
To return to point, what’s their target?
Is someone getting a divorce?
That thought would never enter my mind.
I’m not even joking, for once.
I don’t want to take an ax to my ex.
Or anybody else, for that matter.
I’m a fun girl.
Plus my upper body strength isn’t what it used to be.
I have slack upper arms.
You know why?
Number one, I’m getting old.
Number two, to prevent me from throwing an ax.
Every time I wave goodbye, my flab wiggles, creating a breeze.
This is why I never need deodorant anymore.
My flab fans my armpits.
Thank you, Mother Nature.
Bottom line, I don’t want to know how to throw an ax.
I barely want to know how to throw a ball.
I threw out the first pitch at a Phillies game and practiced for three months.
I didn’t want to throw like a girl.
I wonder how a girl throws an ax.
Pretty damn well, bucko.
You know what I want to learn?
How to duck.
I hope there’s a franchise that can teach me to duck.
Also how to dodge right and left.
And run away very fast while zigzagging.
I intend to specialize in zigzagging.
My motto will be, “Retreat!”
Let’s start a franchise for us cowards.
We could call it LISA’S CHICKEN COOP.
Come on over.
Coo and cuddle up with us.
Flap your wings.
And create a breeze.