A blonde who got a fishing rod for her birthday decided to go ice fishing to make good use of her gift. Early the next morning, she got all her gear together and headed out to the ice.
When she reached her final destination, she cut a large hole in the ice and dipped the rod in. Then suddenly she heard a voice that said: “There are no fish in there”.
So she moves to another spot and cuts another hole, but then the same voice spoke again and told her there were no fish in there.
So she moves again, and the voice tells her there are no fish in there. So she looks up and sees an irritated man staring down at her.
“How do you know there are no fish there?” asks the blonde.
So the man cooly says “Well first of all, this is a hockey rink, and second of all, you’re going to have to pay for those holes.”
Picture 1 is Cashmere Bouquet growing next to my patio strawberry bed. The hummingbirds prefer it to the hummingbird feeders. I grow enough strawberries for us and the birds. Picture 2 is what I wish my baskets looked like but never have. Picture 3 is the flower bed in back that has about half enough flowers, but I did notice eggs on my milkweed plants, so maybe in a few days, I’ll have caterpillars. The dill, fennel, and garlic are all right there waiting for them. Oh, it’s so hot! I have flowers to put out, baskets to fill, flowers to water. The day is just gorgeous but it’s 95 degrees and the humidity is 80%. I must be really looking hard for something to complain about. Thank you, God!
A man walks into the front door of a bar. He is obviously drunk. he staggers up to the bar, seats himself on a stool, and with a belch, asks the bartender for a drink.
The bartender politely informs the man that it appears that he has already had plenty to drink–he could not be served additional liquor at this bar but could get a cab called for him.
The drunk is briefly surprised then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down off the bar stool, and staggers out the front door.
A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the side door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a drink. The bartender comes over, and still politely–but more firmly refuses service to the man due to his inebriation. Again, the bartender offers to call a cab for him.
The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head.
A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the back door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits, and belligerently orders a drink.
The bartender comes over and emphatically reminds the man that he is clearly drunk, will be served no drinks, and either a cab or the police will be called immediately.
The surprised drunk looks at the bartender and in hopeless anguish, cries “Man! How many bars do you work at?”