I would like to die on Mars. Just not on impact.
I advertised the following item on our local radio program:
For sale: Small push-type lawn mower. Brand-new, $40.
One person called and asked if the lawn mower was a single or double cylinder. I told him, “It depends on how fast you walk!”
Natives of Baltimore, Maryland, my wife and I decided to move to the country in southwest
Virginia for a change of pace. After we made the move, we started to notice little things about our neighbors. One we could not get over was how they gave directions.
When we asked, everyone said to go down yonder and go over yonder and go around yonder. We would say thank you, but when we got into the truck we’d look at each other and ask, “Do you know where yonder is?”
So for the first year or so, we drove around in circles. Then the other day, while we were in town shopping, someone asked us for directions.
As I told them where to go, it came to me all at once. It took some time, but yeah—now I know where yonder is. And the people there are all right.
SCENE: My teenage daughter and me in the car.
Lauren: Dad, do you know what the most commonly used letter in a girl’s name is?
Me: Hmm, is it a consonant or a vowel? (Silence.) Please tell me you know what consonants and vowels are.
Lauren: You’re no fun, Dad. Forget it.
Me: What is a vowel?
Lauren: OK, OK. A vowel is … ahh … eh … well, oh … uh …
Me: Close enough.
My husband was water skiing when he fell into the river. As the boat
circled to pick him up, he noticed a hunter sitting in a duck boat in the reeds. My husband put his hands in the air and joked, “Don’t shoot!”
The hunter responded, “Don’t quack.”
A salesman talked my uncle into buying 10,000 personalized pens for his business with the promise that
he would be eligible to win a 32-foot yacht. A born gambler, my uncle agreed.
Well, he won, and a few weeks after the pens arrived, his prize showed up: a 12-inch plastic yacht with
32 plastic feet glued to the bottom.
A woman noticed her husband standing on the bathroom scale, sucking in his stomach. “Ha! That’s not going to help,” she said.
“Sure, it does,” he said. “It’s the only way I can see the numbers.”
The black lacquer stand
holding his prized samurai swords was dusty, so my husband left our cleaning lady a note, reading, “Check out my swords.” That evening, he found the stand just as dirty as
before but with this appended to
his note: “Very nice swords.”
Scene: A conversation with my friend’s father, who knows I do
Father: I have a business idea. How hard is it to make a Facebook?
Me: Oh, very easy.
Friend: He doesn’t mean to make
a Facebook profile. He means to
remake all of Facebook.
Me: Oh. Very hard.
Father: Oh, OK.
The biggest change after having kids was putting a swear jar in the house. Whenever I say a bad word,
I have to put a dollar in the jar, and
at the end of every month, I take all that money and buy myself a nice steak for being such a cool dad.
“Has your son decided what
he wants to be when he grows up?”
I asked my friend.
“He wants to be a garbageman,”
“That’s an unusual ambition to have at such a young age.”
“Not really. He thinks that garbage men work only on Tuesdays.”
My ten-month-old was sitting in her high chair, twisting and moving all over the place. My wife said to me, “Straighten her up.”
I looked at my daughter and said, “What are you doing with your life? Do you want to be this way forever? It’s time to grow up.”
My wife hasn’t asked me to do anything since.
None of my grandsons share my corny sense of humor. When the family is eating lasagna, I say, “Lean over your plate, boys. You’ll get
less-on-ya.” I say to the ten-year-old, “Don’t yell through the screen; you’ll strain your voice.” And when I took another grandson to the zoo, I asked, “Do you know why that snake’s not pressed against the glass? He doesn’t want to be a windshield viper.”
Dad rarely dresses up, so when he left the bedroom decked out in a suit and tie, he wanted to commemorate the moment. Handing me a camera, he asked, “Mind taking a selfie of me?”
My father was completely lost in the kitchen and never ate unless someone prepared a meal for him. When Mother was ill, however, he volunteered to go to the supermarket for her. She sent him off with a carefully numbered list of seven items.
Dad returned shortly, very proud of himself, and proceeded to unpack the grocery bags. He had one bag of sugar, two dozen eggs, three hams, four boxes of detergent, five boxes of crackers, six eggplants, and seven green peppers.
Good morning everyboomie.
I can't believe the weekend is gone, but I guess better the weekend than me.
I told my kids some pretty corny jokes . I wonder if they remember them.
When we were traveling and passed a cemetery I would say "That's the last place I want to go, or People are dying to get in there."
If we passed a person like a farmer in a pasture I would say, "That man is outstanding in his field."
If we pulled up behind someone pulling a horse trailer I would say, "There's a real horse's ass."
If it was a bull, or if I saw a bull I would of course say, "That's a bunch of bull."
Those were the good old days.
Have a happy day everyone.