Thursday, July 06, 2006


Something a little different than my usual. An intentionally humorous post! Feel free to add your own in the comments.
It was a difficult subject to bring before his aged mother, but
Bert felt that he must: "Mom, you're no longer a spring chicken
and you do need to think ahead of what'll happen in the future.
Why don't we make arrangements about pass on?"

The mother didn't say anything, just sat there staring ahead.

"I mean, Mom, do you want to finally go? Do you want
to be buried? Cremated?"

There was yet another long pause. Then the mother looked up and
said, "Son, why don't you surprise me?"


The teacher asked one of her young students if he knew his

"Yes," he said. "I do. My father taught me."

"Good. What comes after three."

"Four," answers the boy.

"What comes after six?"


"Very good," says the teacher. "Your dad did a good job. What
comes after ten?"

"A jack," says the little boy.


A teacher was giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood.
Trying to make the matter clearer, she said, "Now, class, if I
stood on my head, the blood, as you know, would run into it, and
I would turn red in the face."

"Yes," the class said.

"Then why is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary
position the blood doesn't run into my feet?"

A little fellow shouted, "Cause your feet ain't empty."


A man in a Florida supermarket tries to buy half a head of
lettuce. The very young produce assistant tells him that they
sell only whole heads of lettuce.

The man persists and asks to see the manager.

The boy says he will ask his manager about it.

Walking into the back room, the boy said to his manager, "Some
bozo wants to buy half a head of lettuce."

As he finished his sentence, he turned to find the man standing
right behind him, so he added, "And this gentleman has kindly
offered to buy the other half."

The manager approved the deal, and the man went on his way.

Later the manager said to the boy, "I was impressed with the way
you got yourself out of that situation earlier. We like people
who think on their feet here. Where are you from, son?"

"Canada, sir," the boy replied.

"Well, why did you leave Canada?" the manager asked.

The boy said, "Sir, there's nothing but prostitutes and hockey
players up there."

"Really?" said the manager. "My wife is from Canada."

"Wow!" replied the boy, "Who'd she play for?"


My church welcomes all denominations,
but really prefers fifties and hunreds.