Ward's Laws #2000

As men age our butts disappear.  No one knows exactly why, but our gluts just seem to erode away.  Strangely, I noticed the other day that my farts are now in a totally different octave.  The pure, crisp notes I use to expel in my youth have become mature bass sound befitting my age.  I find myself wondering if I can manipulate my cheeks in just the right way...  Taking both halves in hand I furiously ply varying pressures to my buttocks attempting to play the "William Tell Overture."   The pace quickens as the tempo builds.  Sweat and a high-fat diet ultimately lead to my demise.  I lost my grip on both my cheek and my concentration and the resulting explosion can only be called a shartnado.

Ward's Laws #1999

I'm going to be the invisible man for Halloween. My costume consists of telling people to close their eyes and asking them if they can see me.

Ward's Laws #1997

Who are we kidding.  There are no man-made lakes.  I mean, if we dig out an area we have a hole, the water makes the lake.

Ward's Laws #1995

Who in their right mind would buy their kid a sandbox?  Great idea, let little Timmy play in a giant outdoor litter box.

Ward's Laws #1992

You know those kids with such a poor immune system that they have to live inside a bubble.  How do they get fresh clothes in there?

Ward's Laws #1990

Women should be careful with personalized license plates. TNKRBLL would be just fine if your husband didn't borrow your purple car every once in a while.

Ward's Laws #1988

My new invention is the shoet (pronounced [shoot]).  The wearable device, a cross between a shoe and a gun, was the perfect blend of self-defense and stylish good looks.  I just wish someone had explained the concept of recoil.  Now, I am in a walking cast for the next four weeks, but I really feel bad for the guy who was shining my shoets.