Thursday, November 26, 2020

Jokes and stuff

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During a service at an old synagogue in Eastern Europe, when a particular prayer was said, half the congregants stood up and half remained sitting. The half that was seated started yelling at those standing to sit down, and the ones standing yelled at the ones sitting to stand up. 

The new rabbi, learned as he was in the Law and commentaries, didn't know what to do. His congregation suggested that he consult a housebound 98-year-old man who was one of the original founders of their shul. The rabbi hoped the elderly man would be able to tell him what the actual tradition was, so he went to the nursing home with a representative of each faction of the congregation.

The one whose followers stood during the prayer asked the old man, "Is the tradition to stand during this prayer?"

The old man answered, "No, that is not the tradition."

The one whose followers sat said, "Then the tradition is to sit!"

The old man answered, "No, that is not the tradition."

Then the rabbi said to the old man, "But the congregants fight all the time, yelling at each other about whether they should sit or stand."

The old man interrupted, exclaiming, "THAT is the tradition!"

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Farmer Mike lived on a quiet rural highway. But, as time went by, the traffic slowly built up at an alarming rate. 

The traffic was so heavy and so fast that his chickens were being run over at a rate of three to six a day.

So one day Farmer Mike called the sheriff's office and said, "You've got to do something about all of these people driving so fast and killing all of my chickens."

"What do you want me to do?" asked the sheriff.

"I don't care, just do something about those crazy drivers!" 

So the next day he had the county workers go out and erected a sign that said: SLOW-SCHOOL CROSSING

Three days later Farmer Mike called the sheriff and said, "You've got to do something about these drivers. 

The `school crossing' sign seems to make them go even faster."

So, again, the sheriff sends out the county workers and they put up a new sign: SLOW: CHILDREN AT PLAY

That really sped them up. So Farmer Mike called and called and called every day for three weeks. 

Finally, he asked the sheriff, "Your signs are doing no good. Can I put up my own sign?" 

The sheriff told him, "Sure thing, put up your own sign." 

He was going to let the Farmer Mike do just about anything in order to get him to stop calling everyday to complain.

The sheriff got no more calls from Farmer Mike. 

Three weeks later, curiosity got the best of the sheriff and he decided to give Farmer Mike a call. 

"How's the problem with those drivers. Did you put up your sign?"

"Oh, I sure did. And not one chicken has been killed since then. I've got to go. I'm very busy." He hung up the phone.

The sheriff was really curious now and he thought to himself, "I'd better go out there and take a look at that sign... 

it might be something that WE could use to slow down drivers..." 

So the sheriff drove out to Farmer Mike's house, and his jaw dropped the moment he saw the sign. It was spray-painted on a sheet of wood:

NUDIST COLONY

GO SLOW AND WATCH OUT FOR THE CHICKS

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Knock Knock!

Who's there?

Cash!

Cash who?

No thanks, but I'd like some peanuts!

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Another Bulwer Lytton contest winner ...  

“Hmm …” thought Abigail as she gazed languidly from the veranda past the bright white patio to the cerulean sea beyond, where dolphins played and seagulls sang, where splashing surf sounded like the tintinnabulation of a thousand tiny bells, where great gray whales bellowed and the sunlight sparkled off the myriad of sequins on the flyfish’s bow ties, “time to get my meds checked.”

Andrew Bowers

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The grass may be greener on the other side but at least you don’t have to mow it.

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