My daughter came up with a new one this morning: "Waking people up is bad manners, say you're sorry!"
A guy at here keeps a jar of pickled pig lips to snack on. There is no logical reason why they should be any more disgusting than any other porcine organ, they just are.
I'm in the trailer at work, thinking of ideas for a cheesy avant garde play or art film. The thing is, unless you're going for sheer Dadaism, it can't be all gimmick. It still needs a good plot to hold it together, or at least be really, really funny. Humor can forgive a multitude of sins.
For example, there's a can of Vienna sausages, atop of a deck of playing cards. How about a two-hander about a couple who play cards together all the time. They constantly eat canned sausages throughout the play. The dialog can be nothing but hooks. "Happy almost birthday, I'm sorry, I know it really upsets you, being so close to (incoherent while eating sausages) Day. Still, at least it's better than the time we ate shrooms, and you (incoherent)." "You bastard, you promised you'd never bring that up! It's not as bad as when you (incoherent sausage munching) with the neighbor's (incoherent)!"
I'm sure there's some Freudian subtext there.
I lost a good friend recently. When you can, tell the people in your life that they are good, that you're sorry for any hurt between you, and that they are wanted, needed and loved. Life is too short.