“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.”
~Margaret Atwood~
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A couple of hours into a visit with my mother she noticed I hadn’t lit up a cigarette once. “Are you trying to kick the habit?”
“No,” I replied, “I’ve got a cold and I don’t smoke when I’m not feeling well.”
“You know,” she observed, “you’d probably live longer if you were sick more often.”
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While doing renovations in our house, one of the workmen paused to look at a flattering photo of me wearing makeup and a fancy gown. I heard him let out a low whistle and ask my son, Joshua, "Who’s that?"
"That’s my mom," Joshua answered.
"Wow," the man said, "my mother doesn’t look like that."
"Yeah," my son said, "well, neither does mine."
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Q: What happened after an explosion at a French cheese factory?
A: All that was left was de brie.
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Q: Why did the butcher work extra hours at the shop?
A: To make ends meat
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Q: Why couldn’t the sesame seed leave the casino?
A: He was on a roll!
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“I gave up jogging for health reasons. My thighs kept rubbing together and setting my pantyhose on fire.”—Judy Franconi
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Q: What do you call someone who can’t stick with a diet?
A: A desserter.
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“I would like vitamins for my son,” a mother said. “Vitamin A, B or C?” the pharmacist asked. “It doesn’t matter,” the mother replied. “He can’t read yet.”
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One night as I was putting my
2 1/2-year-old daughter to bed,
I saw a bright full moon in the sky. I let her look at the moon for a minute and then asked, “Who made the moon?”
“God,” came her reply.
“And the stars?” I asked. Again the answer was, “God.”
I continued with a few more questions: Who made the trees, the flowers, etc. Finally I asked, “Who made Daddy?”
She said, “Grandma.”
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My sister Jordan was helping my 21/2-year-old niece Berea put on her sweatshirt when Berea’s head got stuck on the neck hole.
Berea started panicking and saying, “I can’t see! I can’t see!” The shirt quickly slipped over her head, and the panic was gone until her arms got stuck
on the tight cuffs.
The panic returned, and she started crying again. “My fingers can’t see! My fingers can’t see!” she said.
It was all we could do not to laugh as Jordan quickly pulled Berea’s arms through the cuffs.
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My niece Katrina tailgates other cars and it makes me nervous. I just can’t get it through her head that she does this and that it’s very dangerous. One good thing is that I sometimes find myself drawing closer to the Lord when I ride with her.
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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.
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If you understand English, press 1. If you do not understand English, press 2.
Recording on an Australian tax help line
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I bought one of those tapes to teach you Spanish in your sleep. During the night, the tape skipped. Now I can only stutter in Spanish.
Steven Wright
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The Unathletic Camper’s Baseball Glossary
Baseball bat: a wooden or
metal bar that can easily fly out of someone’s hands.
Foul ball: a moment when you think, Holy @#$%, I got a hit!
Babe Ruth: someone who people tell you was also overweight.
Right field: a quiet place where you can sit for long stretches and play with dandelions. Until suddenly you hear a clang and some shouting and immediately understand life is about to get much harder.
Fly ball: when the sun drops
a boulder on your head.
Shortstop: a position that
involves mostly ground balls
and that you think maybe you can play.
Line drive: the reason you can’t play shortstop.
Innings: the amount of time
left before afternoon snack,
divided by nine.
Marc Philippe Eskenazi,
in the New Yorker
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My three-year-old daughter stuck out her hand and said, “Look at the fly I killed, Mommy.” Since she was eating a juicy pickle at the time, I thrust her contaminated hands under the faucet and washed them with antibacterial soap.
After sitting her down to finish her pickle, I asked, with a touch of awe, “How did you kill that fly all by yourself?”
Between bites, she said, “I hit it with my pickle.”
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Good morning everyboomie.
It's not Sunday anymore.
That's about as positive a spin I can put on for Monday.
Sunday sure was nice. I enjoyed the heck out of it, and I'm not even a mother.
It was sunny, with perfect temps.
My sister came over to do some work on her computer for a new job. Out in the sticks by the lake she has trouble staying online.
Monday we are supposed to be 80 degrees,and feel like 87........yeehaw!...
No real plans for me though. I'll try and do my mowing. Been waiting on the water to dry up.
Have a happy day everyone.
joe
acebook
witter
