I had barely sat down on the toilet when I heard a voice from the other bathroom stall saying, “Hi, how are you?” I don’t know what got into me, but I answered, somewhat embarrassed, “Doin’ just fine.” And the other person said, “So what are you up to?” (What kind of a question is that?)

At that point, I was thinking, “This is too bizarre,” so I said, “Uh, I’m like you - just traveling.” At this point I was just trying to get out as fast as I could when I heard another question, “Can I come over?” Okay, this question was just too weird for me, but I figured I could just be polite and end the conversation. I answered: “No. I’m a little busy right now.”

Then I heard the person say, nervously: “Listen, I’ll have to call you back. There’s an idiot in the next toilet who keeps answering all my questions!”

It is with the saddest heart that I must pass on the following news. Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times he was still a crusty old man and was considered a roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly dad, Pop Tart. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

Little Red Riding Hood was walking through the woods when suddenly the Big Bad Wolf jumped out from behind a tree and, holding a sword to her throat, said, “Red, I’m going to screw your brains out!”

To that, Little Red Riding Hood calmly reached into her picnic basket and pulled out a .44 magnum and pointed it at him and said, “No you’re not! You’re going to eat me, just like it says in the book!”

A mother enters her daughter’s bedroom and sees a letter on the wall over the bed. With the worst premonition, she reads it, with trembling hands:

It is with great regret and sorrow that I’m telling you that I eloped with my new boyfriend. I found real passion and he is so nice, with all his piercings and tattoos and his big motorcycle.

But is not only that Mom, I’m pregnant and Ahmed said that we will be very happy in his trailer in the woods. He wants to have many more children with me and that’s one of my dreams. I’ve learned that marijuana doesn’t hurt anyone and we’ll be growing it for us and his friends, who are providing us with all the cocaine and ecstasy we may want.

In the meantime, we’ll pray for the science to find the AIDS cure, for Ahmed to get better, he deserves it. Don’t worry Mom, I’m 15 years old now and I know how to take care of myself. Some day I’ll visit for you to know your grandchildren. Your daughter, Judith.

P.S. Mom, it’s not true. I’m at the neighbour’s house. I just wanted to show you that there are worse things in life than my report card that’s in the desk drawer.