My favorite joke of the month, told to me by my buddy Ricko:
“I don’t really like those Russian nesting dolls. They’re just so into themselves.”
Okay, so maybe it’s not the funniest joke in the world, and kinda random to boot, but I like it.
I am fascinated by nesting dolls. I hesitate to say that I “love” them out of fear that people may take that sentiment a tad too seriously and I’ll get nothing but nesting dolls for every birthday, christmas, and anniversary until the day I die. (Likewise and for the record, I do not officially collect anything at all. So there are no easy-outs for gift-giving when it comes to danny. But I digress.)
Over ten years ago I bought a set of blank nesting dolls off the internet in the hopes of coming up with some really clever or funky idea for how to paint on them, but no idea ever came, and so now they just sit in the back of my closet like nested trophies of my creative failure.
So if anyone’s got any bright ideas, send them my way. But Michael Jackson has already been done: