Coyote the Trickster is such a talented joke writer, that he even
publishes big books of his silly meanderings. A few years ago, he
presented me his then-latest collection:


         1,001 Skull-F*cking Jokes

                    by
            Coyote T. Trickster


Each was a gut-busting hee-haw, from the very first morsel to the very
last. And...if you read them in order, the next joke is always a teensy
bit funnier than the previous. Read them out of order, and it doesn't
work that way: some are funnier, some NOT as funny...while the largest
portion are EQUALLY funny. Why? I really don't know; that's Coyote's
special magic to which even I, his very best friend, am not privy.

But I digress. Several new moons after showing me that book, Coyote
returned with a NEW collection, this one titled:


         1,001 Skull-F*cking Jokes
                Volume II

                    by
            Coyote T. Trickster


And I exclaimed: "Coy, you need to get off this skull-f*cking shtick.
C'mon, you're a very smart coyote...surely you can come up with an
entirely NEW theme."

Coyote stared at me blankly, indicating I would need to cease this
soft-heartedness with my friend, and display some good old-fashioned
shit-kicking sarcasm. So I added (after a little deliberation):

"May these Happy Hunting Grounds wither and turn to squirrel dung and
get blown away into the four corners of the world, before I ever lay
eyes on a book entitled:


         1,001 Skull-F*cking Jokes
               Volume III

                    by
            Coyote T. Trickster


Do you get my drift, dear brother?"

"I certainly DO, Little Pony" (that's my Lakota name) said Coyote,
raising a paw in thought, to his forehead, "Why, I'll come up with a
whole NEW theme, and show you the first joke I write. Let me go now and
compose the very first part of my next opus. I'll be seeing  you again
real soon, little bro'."

"Lookin' forward to your next joke, 'Yote!" I waved au revoir as he
scampered down our village path to his own little teepee seven stations
down the A-line, and four down the D (or take the C-2 if you're not in a
hurry and would enjoy a rustic view out your window).

Well, the new moon came and went without Coyote showing up. Indeed, it
wasn't before FIVE new moons had come and gone, that he finally
returned, so excited he could barely speak.

"When you finally catch your breath, silly brother," I commented, trying
to hide my curiosity as best as possible, "tell me why it took you so
long to compose one lousy joke."

"Little Pony, Little Pony! Here it is: the first joke and so much more!"
Coyote hopped about my kitchen, knocking over teapot, peacepipe and
stash. "In fact, I DID write joke numero-uno within scarce MINUTES of
our last parting. But I got so excited with that one, I just HAD to
write a dozen more--you know, like a baker's dozen--as by now I REALLY
wanted to please you. Well, a dozen led to ANOTHER dozen, and then to a
DOZEN dozen, and... voila! My latest book, brother! You will be SO very
proud of me; check this out!"

And so I was handed a tome so heavy, it almost dropped from my hands
when I received it from Coy's trembling paws. I set it on my lap and
looked down at the book, and its title:


         1,001 Brain-F*cking Jokes

                    by
            Coyote T. Trickster



            


                    Blessed by the Great Spirit 
                    who gave me this tale, and 
                            many more.