I guess it was my name that did it. Otis Crabblecotus.

Yeh, that was why I became a comedian.

Then, I finally changed my name.

Now, it’s Felix Crabblecotus.

I haven’t had an original thought in years. But, that was my Brand of Humor.

I was known as The King Of Stolen Jokes. I prefer “borrowed”.

These jokes are part of my routine. You’ve probably heard them dozens of times.

What do you call a comedian who procrastinates?

-I don’t know. I’ll tell you later.

Everyone is so conscious about gender lately. Comedians only need one pronoun.-He/He/He!

Well, you get the idea.

My specialty was Henry Youngman’s jokes. I knew them all, and I told them all.

Such as:

Some people ask the secret of my long marriage. We take time to go to a fine restaurant twice a week. A little candlelight dinner, soft music, dancing. She goes Tuesday. I go Friday.

Then, there’s

My friend complained of a headache. I told him, “Do what I do. I put my head on my wife’s bosom, and the headache goes away. I see my friend the next day and asked if he did what I told him to. He says, “Yes, I sure did! And, by the way, you have a nice house!”

The one the audience can’t get enough of is the classic, Take My Wife…Please!

Once the audience hears that, they know exactly what they’re in store for. I must have told that one a million times.

Then one night, as I got into my car following a stint at the Porcupine Club, I noticed a strange glowing object in the sky. It followed me all the way to my home.

When I got out and entered my front door, the strange disc-shaped object landed on my front lawn.

I slammed the door shut and peeked through the tiny window. Three weird creatures with bodies like beach balls and several heads apiece got out.

They politely knocked on my door.

I decided it might be wise to greet them in a friendly manner, in event they had ray blasters.

“Mister Crabblecotus,” said the one with the most heads, “We bear you greetings from the Planet Goblootz.”

“What can I do for you?” I asked politely.

“We are ardent fans of yours,” said the one with noses like casaba melons.

“Yes,” said the third, who had ears like broccoli spears. “We came to take you up on your offer!”

They let out a shrill whistle, and my wife tiptoed over to them.

“Thank you for allowing us to take your wife!” they shouted as they got into their craft and zoomed away.

Too bad. I’ll miss her. Marriage was like a walk in the Park. Jurrasic Park!

No jokes were harmed in the writing of this tale.