I love France, it’s a beautiful country. Unfortunately it’s filled with Frenchmen.

We have no issue with the French. We do hate the Italians, they’re a bunch of pushy fascists.

I was there too. The guy alternated between vomiting and screaming: “Does anyone have a truck?!”

I was next to you in the passenger seat and said to the vomiting man: “I know a guy.” You shifted gears and continued straight for another mile or so.

From the rearview mirror I saw the guy being lifted into another truck. I repeated: “I know a guy.”

You took a left and said: “An ambulance is not a truck.”

That’s where you’re wrong on two accounts, first off the counter comes up to my waist so I’m not wearing any pants. Second, I put my wiener in the cup while I long pour the milkshake.

Next you’re going to tell me you don’t believe I shove every straw up my pee hole without anyone noticing but the secret is I always keep one in the chamber.

I’m a master of slight of hand.

She was so deprived of nutrients that her body ate the ink. /s

If they’re up for it, put them in an improv class for kids with autism, this helps immensely. You could reach out to Giant Steps or Second City. I might be slightly biased because I teach improv but it’s a good way for kids on the spectrum to practice social situations and to learn how to deal with sudden changes.