humor

Random Funnies to make You Chuckle

A policeman pulls a man over for speeding and asks him to get out of the car. After looking the man over he says, “Sir, I couldn’t help but notice your eyes are bloodshot. Have you been drinking?”

The man gets really indignant and says, “Officer, I couldn’t help but notice your eyes are glazed. Have you been eating doughnuts?”

One Monday morning a postman i…

One Monday morning a postman is walking the neighbourhood on his usual route. As he approaches one of the homes he noticed that both cars were in the driveway. His wonder was cut short by Bob, the homeowner, coming out with a load of empty beer and liquor bottles.
“Wow Bob, looks like you guys had one hell of a party last night,” the postman comments.
Bob in obvious pain replies, “Actually we had it Saturday night. This is the first I have felt like moving since 4:00 am Sunday morning. We had about fifteen couples from around the neighbourhood over for Christmas Cheer and it got a bit wild. We got so drunk around midnight that we started playing ‘Who Am I.'”
The postman thinks a moment and says, “How do you play that?”
Well all the guys go in the bedroom and we come out one at a time with a sheet covering us and only our “privates” showing through a hole in the sheet. Then the women try to guess who it is.”
The mailman laughs and says, “Damn, I’m sorry I missed that.”
“Probably a good thing you did,” Bob responds. “Your name came up four or five times.”

The following is supposedly a true story. To be included, besides being true, the story is most likely strange, weird, surprising, or funny.
December 18, 1992
In October, a cleaning crew accidentally tossed out an exhibit at the Museum of Discovery and Science in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. The exhibit consisted of 14,000 cigarette butts — the amount a smoker produces in a lifetime — crammed into coffee cans. Said the artist, in defense of the cleaning crew, “(The butts) didn’t smell very good.”

The following is supposedly a true story. To be included, besides being true, the story is most likely strange, weird, surprising, or funny.
February 17, 1993
Fort Erie, Ontario, Constable Paul Fletcher told reporters in December that a man armed with a club tried to force a woman to drive him home with her to get money for him, but that when he waited for her to unlock the passenger door from inside, she sped away.

Miss Laura Mae’s House Part 16

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As Miss Laura Mae continued with her story of Myrtle and Little Jackie, he was about my age. Maybe he’d come to visit sometime and we could play.

“Myrtle like to threw a fit when she got back in the car, but I told her I didn’t want to hear no more about it. That boy told her he didn’ want no company. She could just hush up about it to me. She might be forty-five years old but I was still her mama and didn’ mean to listen to no fit throwin’.

She sulled up like a possum, but we went on to her sister-in-law, Judy’s. She sweetened right up when we got there, tellin’ ‘em what a fine place Little Jackie had. To hear her talk, you’d a’thought we got the royal tour. I had a real good time at Judy’s. She had a big ol’ pool. I didn’ wanna git in, but she fixed me up a cushion and I dangled my feet while the kids swam. I don’t think Myrtle liked it much when I stripped my shoes and stockin’s off in front of ‘em, but that cool water was just the thing on a hot day. Judy kept bringin’ me them icy lemon drinks. She tol’ me they was spiked a little but they sure was good. After a while, her husband got me in one a’them floatin’ chairs out in the pool with the rest of ‘em. Myrtle didn’ git in. She was just a’settin in the shade a’drinkin’ them lemon drinks. That floatin’ chair was a fine thing. I wouldn’ mind havin’ one to put in my pond, but I ain’t sure I could git in it by myself. Yes Siree. I had me a fine time at Judy’s. When I got out, Judy loaned me a nightgown and put my clothes in the clothes dryer while I took a nap. That clothes dryer was a handy thing, but I don’t know that I’d want one. Stuff just didn’ smell as nice as line-dried. We ended up spending the night since Myrtle wasn’ up to drive home. It wouldn’ a’hurt my feelings to stayed a week at Judy’s. That’s the best time I had.

Anyways, we headed home Tuesday mornin’. Me an’ Myrtle both kind’a had a headache, so we didn’ talk a lot on the way. When Jack got in Tuesday night, Myrtle started in, “Little Jackie wouldn’t even invite us in after me and his grandma made a special trip by to see him. I don’t know what is wrong with that boy. He thinks he’s too good for us since your daddy set him up in that furniture store.”

“Now, Myrtle, you knew when you went by there he wasn’t looking for company. You’ve tried to control that boy his whole life. Now leave him in peace. That’s the last I want to hear of it. When Jackie wants you to come see him, he knows how to invite you.”

After Jack left out, Myrtle continued. “I bet he had a woman in there and didn’t want me to know. No wonder he didn’t invite us in. Oh, I do hope he is getting serious. He’s such a good-lookin’ boy, I know he could get a girl. He’s a snappy dresser, too. Maybe he’s planning to get married. I do hope so. He worked so hard in college he didn’t have time to date, but maybe now since he’s working, he’s got a girlfriend. That was silly of me to go by there like that. Of course, he didn’t need no drop in company on the weekend.”

I didn’ think that was it, but I kept my mouth shut.

Thursday night, Little Jackie come over. “Hey, Mama. Hey Grandma. You’re looking good. How in the world are you?”

“Just fine as frog’s hair. You’re sure a sight for sore eyes. Tell me what you’re up to. I’m real proud your grandpa set you up with that nice store.” We talked all through supper.

Finally, Jackie faced his mama. “Mama, I hated I couldn’t invite you in last Sunday. You came at a bad time. I’ve been working a lot and I’d slept late. It wouldn’t have been a good time at all. You couldn’t have gotten through the place. I’m doing some work on it. I was going to tell y’all a little later, but now I’ll go ahead. That big old house is way too big for just me. It’s got six bedrooms……”

Myrtle burst in, “I knew it! I knew it! You’re getting married! I should’ve known there was some reason we hadn’t heard much out of you since you got that place.”

Jackie looked pained. “No Mama. Where’d you get such a wild idea? I am remodeling the house so I can take in boarders. I can rent those rooms out to single men and make a lot of money. I’ll still have my apartment downstairs and rent out the rest. Won’t that be a great idea! One fellow has already moved in and is doing a lot of the work. ”

Hogwagon

What is your all time favorite automobile?

This sounds like a bonafide hillbilly story but I’ll tell it anyway. When Daddy bought his farm, it was covered in trees which had to be removed to create pasture. He came up on a bastardized vehicle that had been cobbled together that was ideal for pulling stumps. An avid hog hunting neighbor had acquired a bizarre amalgamation of various vehicles that met Daddy’s needs perfectly. It was a cutdown school bus with no windshield. An ancient truck seat replaced the bus seat. It had a flathead v-8 motor that was geared low enough to pull tree stumps. Its most distinguishing feature was a wire cage on the back the former owner had transported wild hogs in. With tractor tires on the back and big truck tires on the front, boggy ground was never a problem.

Christened the “Hogwagon,” this vehicle was a wonder to behold. Of course it could only be used off-road. Daddy could hook it to a stump, pull the stump till the deep roots were exposed, maneuver around till he could cut deep roots with his power saw and eventually pull the stump out of the ground. It was amazing to see the stump finally lose the battle against the hog wagon. Daddy cleared forty acres in a few months. With that job complete, the Hog Wagon fell into disuse, It had certainly helped Daddy complete a monumental task in record time.

Santa jokes

  • What do you call a kid who doesn’t believe in Santa? A rebel without a Claus.
  • Why doesn’t Santa Claus like getting stuck in chimneys? He’s claus-trophobic!
  • Why didn’t Rudolph get a good report card? Because he went down in history!
  • Why does Santa always land on your roof? Because he likes it on top!
  • What do you call Santa when he stops moving? Santa Pause!
  • Why did Santa get a parking ticket on Christmas Eve? He left his sleigh in a snow parking zone!
  • What do you call a broke Santa Claus? Saint-nickel-less!
  • What do you get if you cross Santa with a detective? Santa Clues!
  • What do you call Santa when he travels on a train? Santa Express!
  • How does Santa keep track of all the fireplaces he’s visited? He keeps a log!

Bad Hobbit

We are traveling when we stopped for a break a young woman grinned at me so broadly I knew it was more than mere friendliness. When I looked at myself in bathroom mirror I realized I looked like a hobbit.

Miss Laura Mae’s House Part 12

My grandma was in the hospital. We had a houseful of company and we didn’t go to Miss Laura Mae’s house for several days. I was happy to be sitting on her top step with a biscuit again.

“Well, I ain’t seen y’all in a month of Sundays,” she said “Where you been?”

“Right there at the house,” answered Mother. “I’m so tired I can hardly wiggle. Bill’s mama thought she was having a heart attack and they kept her in the hospital overnight. It turns out it was just a hernia. She was doing fine but they still kept her overnight for tests. They were supposed to let her out the next morning. You know how Dr. Hawkins is. You can’t go to see him without him wanting to keep you overnight for tests. Anyway, she was sleeping and the nurse came to check on her. Miz Swain thought she was seeing a ghost and got all upset, convinced she was dying. She had the nurse call Bill to call all the kids in. You know she has seven. 

Anyway, all the kids and in-laws came flocking in to the house along with all their kids. There was no need to all pile in at the house and stay all that time. They all live within ten miles of us. I don’t know what good they thought they were doing, anyway. Next thing, her two brothers and their wives showed up. Somebody called her step-brother from way down in South Louisana and told him it might be his last chance to see her. They couldn’t have been close. They hadn’t seen each other in more than twenty years.” Mother complained.

“Lordy, was she really that sick? That sounds like a mess.” Miss Laura Mae offered.

“No, nothing was bad wrong. She’s just the superstitious type and was convinced it was a sign she was going to die. Anyway, the whole bunch hung around the rest of the night and visited the next day, like it was their last chance to see each other. They made a bunch of long distance phone calls, which I know they’ll never pay for, ate up my week’s supply of groceries, drank up all my coffee, and even used up all the toilet paper. Even after she got out of the hospital, they kept right on visiting. The kids were running in and out banging the doors, screaming and yelling like a bunch of heathens. I stayed behind them with the broom and mop, but it was hopeless. It was horrible. I thought they never would go home. I am so tired, I could sleep for a week. We are out groceries. I don’t even have any dry beans left. We’ll be eating biscuits and gravy till payday.” Mother sighed. 

“You know, my mother had a stroke last summer. They didn’t know if she’d make it. She lives out in Texas. I wanted to go, but we talked about it and Bill decided we really didn’t have the money. I didn’t get to go for three months. It’s strange how when it’s the man, it is so different. It makes me mad all over we didn’t go when Mama was sick. I could have missed my last chance then. Why are men so selfish?”

“Honey, that’s why I never married agin after Floyd died. Most men think they own their women, an’ women don’t need to do nuthin’ but tend to them, the younguns, an’ the house an’ garden. I wasn’t much past forty and still had a couple of younguns to raise when Floyd died, but it was a lot easier for me to take in ironin’, sew for the public, babysit, or sit with the elderly or the sick than have to answer to another man. Now, don’t get me wrong. They’s a’plenty o’ good men out there, but they do that one bad thing. They just keep on a’breathing in an’ breathin’ out.”

They both laughed till tears were running down their faces.

Izzy’s Coffee Break

Izzy sharing a coffee break with me. He polished off the foamy milk.

Sewing

I am so glad I learned to sew. From the time I can remember, I was fascinated with Mother’s sewing machine, an ancient treadle machine. It sits in my house today. It is still functional. It is the best machine to use for heavy jobs like hemming jeans.

My first dismal attempt was in 4-H. I chose a sewing project, a simple project I was supposed to enter in the fair. One of the initial instructions in the booklet was “Ask an adult for help.”

Let me preface this with, the fact that my mother was definitely not a helicopter parent. My project was MY PROJECT! The project instructions didn’t have any advice for a situation where Mother had a newborn, a severely overburdened budget, and no time or interest in teaching a nine-year-old to sew.

The prize-winning apron the agent showed us was of a heavy fabric like denim with perfect seams. It looked exactly like the one in the project guide, even down to the color. I imagined my perfectly executed project looking exactly like it with a big blue ribbon at the county fair.

As Mother held the colicky baby, I told her, “We need to go to store and buy material for an apron. For 4-H.”

She answered crabbily. “No we don’t. I have a drawer full of material Grandma sent.” She was always crabby when the baby cried.” I’m busy now. I’ll find you some later.” Though I asked three more times that day, I didn’t get fabric for an apron. The second time I asked, she sent me to dist the living room furniture. The third time, she sent me to hang out a load of diapers. I gave it up for the time being.

To be continued

The Heartbreaking Tale of the Post-Mortem Fruitcake

Egyptian archaeologists discover the world's oldest fruitcake.

Christmas revolved around fruitcake.  Mother pinched pennies for weeks to buy the candied fruit and nuts required to bake the perfect fruitcake.  On December 22, everything else was in readiness for FRUITCAKE baking.  She chopped the nuts, candied fruit, brought out her spices  and pulled out her time honored recipe for the perfect fruitcake which only graced our table during the Christmas Season.  Baking the fruitcake was a sacred tradition, which we looked forward to it simply because it meant Christmas was almost here.  The eating of the cake was irrelevant.  The tradition was what mattered.

My maternal grandmother died December 16, 1964.  We were all devastated. She was the indulgent figure in out lives. Her rare visits had a holiday quality.  Her gifts were provided a few luxuries in our lives  I couldn’t imagine life without her.  She had mailed her Christmas gifts to us on the morning before she died in the night..  It arrived two or three days after her funeral.  It was a macabre feeling, being anxious to find out what she’d sent, knowing she was in her grave.

In the way of kids everywhere, we rallied and had a wonderful Christmas.  The gifts had special meaning, knowing they’d be the last.  I still have a tiny jewelry box from that year.  My poor brother managed to turn this sad situation into a mess.  Grandma had included a small fruit cake in a red tin box.  Mother put it up, intending to serve it on a special occasion.  Naturally, this fruitcake from her mother was elevated to the sacred.  Well, my brother Bill must have had a special occasion of his own.  Mother found the empty fruitcake tin hidden in his room, not a crumb left.

She was furious!  He had eaten her dead mother’s fruitcake……….the last gift she’d ever sent.  He lived to regret his theft.  She didn’t let him forget it for weeks, getting weepy every time she saw the shiny red box, sitting in a place of honor on the table. She keeps buttons and thread in that box till today.

This is probably the only documented story of anyone ever actually eating, much less stealing a fruitcake!