That Explains It!

Suzy went to her plastic surgeon.  “You’ve got to do something about these wrinkles under my eyes.  They look just awful!”

“Sure, I can fix you right up!” said Dr. Jones.  “I’ll put this little knob on top of your head. Give it a little twist, and Voila!!  The wrinkles are gone!  Come back if you have any trouble”

Sure enough, it worked like magic.  Suzy was thrilled!  She was a new woman!  She looked like she was eighteen again!  Every time her face drooped a little, she gave the knob a little twist.

Five years later, Suzy came back to see Dr. Jones.  “You fixed me up a while back with this little knob to tighten up my wrinkles.  It worked great for a long time, but it’s stripped out now and I’ve got these big bags under my eyes.  What can you do about them?”

“Those aren’t bags!  Those are your breasts!  I told you to come back if you had any trouble!”

“Oh, then that explains the goatee!”

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Afternoon Funny

 

 

A divorce court judge said to the husband,”Mr Geraghty,I have reviewed this case very carefully and I’ve decided to give your wife $800 a week.”
“That’s very fair,your honour,” he replied. “And every now and then I’ll try to send her a few bucks myself.”

A physician, an engineer, and an attorney were discussing who among them belonged to the oldest of the three professions represented.

The physician said, “Remember, on the sixth day God took a rib from Adam and fashioned Eve, making him the first surgeon. Therefore, medicine is the oldest profession.”

The engineer replied, “But, before that, God created the heavens and earth from chaos and confusion, and thus he was the first engineer. Therefore, engineering is an older profession than medicine.”

Then, the lawyer spoke up. “Yes,” he said, “But who do you think created all of the chaos and confusion?”

“You seem to be in some distress,” said the kindly judge to the witness. “Is anything the matter?”
“Well, your Honour,” said the witness, “I swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but every time I try, some lawyer objects.”

To help someone before they commit a crime means you are their
accomplice.
To help someone after they commit a crime means you are their attorney.

 

A lawyer died and was standing in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter said, “you can’t come in here… you have to go to the other place”. But the lawyer was really good and pleaded his case to the point where St. Peter said, “OK… here’s what I’ll do. You will spend the same amount of time in hell as you did on earth, and then you can spend the rest of eternity up here.” The lawyer figured this wasn’t too bad of a deal, so he said “OK”. St. Peter said, “Great… I’ll see you in 350 years.”. The lawyer said, “But, how is that possible… I’m only 65 years old!”. St Peter said, “We go by billing hours”.

 

A plumber went to the attorneys house to unstop the sink. When he finished he said to the attorney “that will be $400.00.” The attorney became irate “What do you mean $400.00, you were only here 20 minutes, that’s ridiculous!!” The plumber replied, “I thought the same thing when I was an attorney”.

Texas Chili Cookoff

Texas Chili Contest

For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is. They actually have a chili cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio city park. The notes are from an inexperienced chili taster named Frank, who has visited from Springfield IL.

Frank: “Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cooking contest. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judges table asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (native Texans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy and, besides, they told me that I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted.”

Here are the scorecards from the advent: (Frank is Judge 3)

Chili #1 Eddie’s Maniac Monster Chili

>Judge #1 — A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

>Judge #2 — Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

>Judge #3 — (Frank) What the hell is this stuff?! You could remove dried paint on my driveway. Took me two beers to put out the flames. I hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy!

Chili #2 Austin’s Afterburner Chili

>Judge #1 — Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

>Judge #2 — Exiting BBQ flavor; needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

>Judge #3 — Keep this out of reach of children. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.

Chili #3 Ronny’s Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili

>Judge #1 — Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.

>Judge #2 — A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.

>Judge #3 — Call the EPA. I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my back bone is in the front part of my chest. I’m getting pie-eyed from all the beer…

Chili #4 Dave’s Black Magic

>Judge #1 — Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

>Judge #2 — Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish, or other mild foods; not much of a chili.

>Judge #3 — I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb woman is starting to look HOT…just like this nuclear waste I’m eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?

Chili #5 Lisa’s Legal Lip Remover

>Judge #1 — Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

>Judge #2 — Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

>Judge #3 – My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off may forehead, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I’m burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.

Chili #6 Pam’s Very Vegetarian Variety

>Judge #1 — Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.

> Judge #2 — The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.

> Judge #3 — My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous sulphuric flames. I pooped on myself when I farted and I’m worried it will eat through the chair! No one seems inclined to stand behind me anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.

Chili #7 Carla’s Screaming Sensation Chili

>Judge #1 — A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

>Judge #2 — Ho-hum; tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last minute. **I should take note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress, as he is cursing uncontrollably.

>Judge #3 — You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I’ve lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are filled with lave to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing; it’s too painful. Screw it; I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Chili #8 Karen’s Toenail Curling Chili

>Judge #1 — The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold, but spicy enough to declare its existence.

>Judge #2 — This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild, nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over, and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it. Poor fella, wonder how he’d have reacted to REALLY hot chili.

Louisiana Blonde Joke

The couple started discussing pronunciation as they were approaching Natchitoches, Louisiana in their travels.  The wife asked a blonde girl in the restaurant, “Can you tell me the name of this place and please pronounce it slowly for me?  I’m not from around here.

“Sure, it’s Burger King.  Burrr……Gerrr…….King!”

Connie said, “Damn!”

My sister Connie is seventeen months older than Marilyn.  She was protective of Marilyn from the start, always giving over to “the baby,”. She wasn’t encouraged to do it, that’s just how she was.  Mother awas careful not make a difference or favor Marilyn.  In fact, she was felt bad at seeing Connie knocked out of the baby spot, so bent over backwards trying to be fair.

Marilyn had no problem asserting herself. Since Connie didn’t want Marilyn to get in trouble, she rarely hit Marilyn back or tattled on her.  I infer this worked well for Marilyn..  As country children often do, one day Connie didn’t want to take time to go in and wee wee.  She simply darted behind a tree to do the job.  Finding an abandoned hubcap that served as a dog-feeding dish, she squatted and filled it.  As she stood, Marilyn slipped up behind her and kicked it, splashing Connie liberally.  Instead of smacking Marilyn like a normal kid would have, Connie just exclaimed, “Damn!”  Marilyn was off like a shot, looking for Mother,  Connie ,right behind her as soon as she got her wet clothes pulled up.

””Mama, Mama!  Connie said “Damn!”  This was big trouble.  Mother wouldn’t tolerate trashytalk.

Mother whirled around, shocked, expecting Connie to deny the evil deed.  “Connie, did you say, “Damn?”

”Yes.” Connie whimpered.  Had she told Mother what Marilyn had done, they would both have been swatted.

”Get me the fly swat.”  Mother kept a plastic fly swat hanging by the back door ready for just such a occasion.  She gave Connie two or three quick swats and dismissed her, while Marilyn stood by self-righteously.  It was years before Connie told the whole story.

I wonder if the dogs thought “Damn” later that day when they smelled pee in their dish.

My family:  I am in the back row Left, holding Connie’s hands,  Billy Center, Phyllis  holding Marilyn Right.

The Doctor’s Office, Lady, Pig, and Cow

The time in our doctor’s waiting room became unexpectedly enjoyable as we sat with an elderly lady and her family. No one had said much beyond “Good morning” till the elderly lady asked her daughter to push her closer so she could admire the ornaments on the tree Dr. Irby had so generously decorated for her patients’ pleasure. She laughed and said, “I am eighty-three years old. I’ve come all the way from chopping wood to people walking on the moon. Oh, I’ve chopped lots of wood.” As she talked on, she cackled as she told this one. “I’ve milked many a cow in my time, many a cow. I remember one time, I was ‘a milking two titties and a pig was ‘a sucking on the other side.” She had us all laughing along with her. We would have loved to spend the rest of the day with her. What a wonderful visit we had!

 

Joke!

The guide dog led his blind master directly through a green light out into the traffic of a busy intersection.  Horns honked.  Cars crashed into each other all around him.  A good Samaritan ran out into traffic and snatched him to safety.  The blind gentleman reached into his pocket for a treat.  “Good boy.  Good boy.  Here’s a treat!”  He patted the air, feeling for his dog’s head.

“Are you crazy?  He nearly got you killed?  Why in the world are you giving him a reward?” asked the good Samaritan.

“I’m not.” said the blind man.  “When I find out which end his head is on, I’m going to kick his butt!”

5 Ways to Make Sure Your Child and His Puppy Have a Satisfying Morning (reposted)

1. Let your kid eat in front of the TV.
2.  Forget to put Vaseline on the doorknob so kid can open door.
3.  Make sure your kid has a puppy.
4.  Make sure your kid’s stomach and puppy’s digestive tract are both full.
5.  Go to bathroom for a little quality time.

                                             John and Buster on a Better Day

We’ve all seen articles by organized people enumerating methods to keep out lives well-organized, tidy, and rational.  Well, this is not one of those.  I’d be far more successful at writing “How to Mess Up Everything You Touch.”  My kids were always right ahead of me, making sure nothing was missed.  When John was three, I settled him on the floor on a big towel in front of the television with his breakfast on a tray to watch “Sesame Street.  Never a slacker in the appetite department, he always wanted milk, eggs, bacon, toast, and grits.  I always watched with him, ready to pick up his tray and cuddle him in his blanket after he finished eating. This worked well for months.

One sad day, I had to excuse myself for just a minute.  Naturally, I told John to sit tight till I got back.  Everything would have been fine, except the Buster the Dog wanted in.  No three-year-old could have resisted.  Buster surely thought he’d gone to Doggy Heaven when he found breakfast waiting for him, set right at puppy level.  Making quick work of my tidy layout, he spilled the milk, gobbled the eggs and bacon, and smeared the grits as far as they’d go.  In fact, it was so altogether satisfying and filling, he pooped his gratitude out on the carpet.  Sickened by the smell, John vomited on top of the whole mess. By the time I’d finished my business and got back to the living room, John was bawling at the top of his lungs and Buster was happily burrowed into the sofa, licking the jam off the toast.

I scraped up the worst of the mess and fixed John another breakfast, not because I thought he deserved it, but because it was the only way to assuage his loud and continuous grief.  Buster went back to the yard and I spent the next couple of hours catching up on some unplanned cleaning.

As a footnote, I noticed fruit flies buzzing around John’s toy box later that morning.  Digging deep, I found a rotten banana right at the bottom, but that’s a story for another day.  Just so you know, later that week I pulled a peanut butter and jelly sandwich out of the VCR.

Fifty Dollars Worth of Camper

See this great old school bus.  It is so much nicer than the one Daddy acquired for the unbelievable sum of fifty dollars. He purchased it from his brother-in-law, who’d gotten stuck with it as payment body work.  Daddy was ahead of his time In acquiring this Tiny House.  Mother was furious.  Fifty dollars would have bought more than two week’s supply of groceries.  Though he gave Mother no end of grief about her extravagant spending at the grocery store, he wasn’t short-sighted and saw the great potential in this bus-camper.  It would be a wonderful shelter when he and his buddies went deer hunting, and oh yes, the family could use it for camping, too!  Now our camper wasn’t nearly so nice as the one pictured above.  It had been partially hand-painted bright silver and lacked a motor. The good news was, we could finish it up any color we liked and motors take up a lot of unnecessary space better used for storage.  In that special storage area, items were stored in boxes on one deep shelf or in  boxes on the floor beneath the shelf.  While the rest of us were out fishing, swimming, or just running wild in general, Mother drug boxes out and dug through them for dishes, pots and pans, and food, all this with two babies in diapers.  She complained about her back constantly.  What a whiner!

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See how comfortable and well-appointed the camper pictured above is.  Ours was nothing like this.  There was no refrigerator, lighting, water, bathroom, hard-wood floors, or Benjamin Franklin wood burning stove.  There was, however, an ancient gas range Daddy hooked to a propane bottle.  It had two functioning burners and a defunct oven.  That was okay, since Mother insisted it had a propane leak and she was scared to use it longer than it took to heat a can of beans or cook eggs.  She cooked with all the windows open and made Daddy cut the fuel off every time she got through.  In fact, it did have a propane leak in the line, but that’s a story for another day.

Two full-size bunk beds filled the rear of the camper.  Two sets of old army bunks were stacked along either side.  Of course, we fought over the top bunks.  The lower bunks served as seating.  A lantern and flash lights served when light was needed.

It was perfect.  I remember one wonderful camping trip when Daddy pulled it to a creek bank.  We swam, fished, swatted mosquitoes, cooked outdoors, only going in to sleep, so exhausted we hardly moved till morning.  Mother got up several times every night to spray to camper with bug killer and spray the covers and any exposed skin with mosquito repellent.  We scratched bug bites and poison ivy for days after we got home.

That was our only family camping trip.  Daddy used it a time or two for hunting, then gave it up as too much trouble.  It had a couple of other incarnations as a home for a farm laborer who confirmed the stove fuel line leak before it descended so far down the social scale it ended life as a junk shed on Daddy’s farm.

To me, that camper was worth every cent!