Going Downhill Fast

Snowboard Fall

For those of you who don’t believe that ‘powder’ belongs on doughnuts, here are

7 Funny Snowboard Jokes

1) What do you call a male snowboarder without a girlfriend? – Homeless.

2) This guy walks into a bar and says “Hey, you guys wanna hear a snowboard joke?” – The bartender says, “I’m a snowboarder. The guy on your right is a snowboarder – same with the guy on your left, and the fellow behind you.” So the guy says, “OK.    I’ll   tell    it   a   little    more    slowly    then…”

3) Three snowboarders are in a car. Who’s driving? – The police.

4) What is the difference between a snowboarder and a large pizza? – A pizza can feed a family of four.

5) What does a snowboarder have in common with a vacuum cleaner? – How you attach the dirt bag.
6) How does a snowboarder introduce himself? –  “Look out!…. My bad!….”

7) What is the difference between a snowboard instructor and a snowboard student? – Three days.

***

 

I was at a restaurant and said to the waitress, ”Excuse me, can I ask you something about the menu please?”

She kicked me out and said “The men I please are none of your business!”
***

My dad was bragging about his new hearing aid. “State of the Art,” he said, “It cost me a fortune.”

I asked: “Awesome, what type is it? “

He said: “‘Two thirty.”

***

Tiger Woods & Stevie Wonder are in a bar…

Tiger says Stevie, “How’s the singing career going?”

Stevie replies, “Not too bad. How’s the golf?”

Woods replies, “I’ve had some problems with my swing, but I think I’ve got that right, now.”

Stevie: “I always find that when my swing goes wrong, I need to stop playing for a while and not think about it. Then, the next time I play, it seems to be all right.”

Amazed, Tiger says, “You play GOLF?”

Stevie: “Yes, I’ve been playing for years.”

Tiger: “But — you’re blind! How can you play golf if you can’t see?”

Stevie: “Well, I get my caddy to stand in the middle of the fairway and call to me. I listen for the sound of his voice and play the ball towards him. Then, when I get to where the ball lands, the caddy moves to the green or farther down the fairway and again I play the ball towards his voice.”

“But, how do you putt?” asks Tiger.

“Well”, says Stevie, “I get my caddy to lean down in front of the hole and call to me with his head on the ground and I just play the ball towards his voice.”

Tiger: “What’s your handicap?”

Stevie: “Well, actually — I’m a scratch golfer.”

Woods says to Stevie, “We’ve got to play a round sometime.”

Stevie: “Well, people don’t take me seriously, so I only play for money, and never play for less than $10,000 a hole. Is that a problem?”

Woods thinks about it and says, “I can afford that; OK, I’m game for that.. $10,000 a hole is fine with me. When would you like to play?”

Stevie:     “Pick a night.”

***

 

Small Town Reality

Small Town

A recent humor post about small towns elicited some comments, questions, and not-necessarily-good memories. For those with curiosity, or defective nostalgia, here’s the real low, down.

Baskin-Robbins only has three ice cream flavors.

Corporate America has still not reached my little Canadian town. There used to be a couple of independent, Mom-and-Pop convenience stores that hand-dipped ice cream, before pre-packaged treats became available. Now they subsist by selling lottery tickets to folks dreaming about having enough money to get out.

You had to step out of the village limits in order to change your mind.

That’s a trick question. Nobody in my town changes their mind.

The nickname for the city jail is amoeba because it only has one cell.

Hah! Our town jail has two cells. One for drunken white men, and another for drunken Indians from the adjoining reservation.

McDonalds only has one Golden Arch and the nearest one is 15 miles away.

The nearest one is in the next town, 5 miles closer to the nuclear reactor, and the only source of employment left in the area.

Instead of a 7-11 they have a 3.5 – 5.5.

See ‘no corporate America’ above. 3.5 X 5.5 refers to metres – 20 by 30 feet sized convenience stores.

The New Year’s baby was born in April.

With all the screwing that’s going on, some of it even by people who are married – to each other – you’d think this would happen earlier in the year. All praise free birth-control information on the internet.

The “Welcome To” and “Thanks for Visiting “signs are front and back of the same sign.

The town has a lot of long-term summer residents – rich city folks who own expensive cottages. Neither they, nor the residents, really want transient, stay-at-a-tourist-camp visitors. There is no ‘Welcome’, or ‘Thanks’ sign. It was left to the Department of Highways to identify where drivers were with a generic sign.

You have to go to the next town to find 2nd Street….

At least there’s nothing as bland as 1st, 2nd, or 3rd Street in my home-town. We have a British-type, High Street, which I was born on, as well as street names like Morpeth, Anglesia, Grosvenor, Grenville, Landsdowne, Breadlebane, and Augusta.

A “Night on the Town” only takes about ten minutes.

There are bars in two hotels on High Street, a block apart. White folks drink at one. Indians drink at the other. If you drink too long at either, your ten-minute ‘Night on the Town’ could stretch to 72 hours in the appropriate comfortably-appointed jail cell.

The Subway restaurant that serves foot-long sandwiches cannot fit within the village limits.

See ‘no corporate America’ again. There is a French-fries/hamburger/ hot-dog take-out building on the highway, behind the bank. It limps through the winter months, and produces retirement income during the summer.

You do not bother using turn signals because everyone already knows where you are going.

Laid out by British surveyors, the town has good sight-lines, and broad streets. It is one of two towns in Canada with a 100 foot-wide main street – most have 66. If you do manage to cut off a local resident, they feel free to tell you where to go.

Big social events are scheduled around when the high school gym floor is being varnished.

The local Legion is big enough to handle most ‘big’ social events. The local high school was closed in 1955, because of lack of students. The couple of dozen per year are bused five miles to the 350 student ‘District’ high school.

You call a wrong number and the person who answers can give you the correct number for the person you are trying to call..

While this was once true, the internet has become a boon, since the big Don’t-Give-A-Damn epidemic hit town.

There is no point in high-school reunions because everyone knows what everyone else is doing anyway.

This is true of those too dumb to get out. The ones who leave, just tend to disappear.
“Do you remember Bob?”
“Bob who?”
“We went to school with him.”
“You mean Rob?”
“Maybe….”
“I got no idea where he went.”

School gets canceled for Provincial sporting events.

No-one in my town was good enough at any sport to qualify for Provincial meets. Senior elementary classes are sometimes bused to District events.

It was cool to date someone from a different high-school.

It had to be from the same ‘District’ high school, but at least you could date someone from a different town – or a farm girl, who could show you alternate social uses for the hay-mow in the barn.

The golf course had only three holes.

There’s a quite-nice golf course, 2 miles out of town, where the old highway wisely bypassed this social morass, a century ago. More recently, a developer included a tournament-worthy course as a perk with his new housing subdivision, on the other side of town, right next to the Indian reservation, whose residents are wisely not allowed to be members. They are both 18-hole courses. Amusingly, just 2 miles away from my current, big-city house, is a course that the city has grown out and surrounded. It is a par-3 course.

Anyone you are looking for can be found at either the Dairy Queen or Wal-Mart, over in ‘The Big City’.

I remember when I thought that it was the cultural center of the Universe, with all of 10,000 residents.

Directions are given using the one and only stop light as a reference – after they finally installed one.

Even after they redirected the highway through the town, instead of past it, the intersection with the main street was a 4-way stop until the Department of Highways insisted on a traffic light in 1955. It’s still the only one.

Weekend excitement involves a trip to the grocery store.

1955 was a year of excitement. A Canadian-based supermarket came to town to challenge 3 little independent grocery stores. While considerable excitement can be had with bananas and cucumbers, the entire town was agog when they imported coconuts.

Your teachers remember when they taught your parents.

My Dad was a Johnny-come-lately, carpet-bagger, non-native. My Mom left in her early teens during the dirty-Thirties, and returned as an adult. None of the teachers had been inoculated, or developed a resistance to me.

The best burgers in town are at the four-lane bowling alley.

Our bowling alley had the best burgers and 8 lanes, but was an unheated summer-only, beach bowling alley, only open from the end of May, till Labor Day. The next town down had a year-round, 4-lane alley, but no lunch bar. The best burgers were next door at the owner’s A-frame, chalet diner.

Tell us about your tiny home-town…. or the unfortunate section of big city that you grew up in.

Monday Amusements

Laughing Face

It was a sunny morning, a little before 8.00AM, on the first hole of a busy course, and I was beginning my pre-shot routine, visualizing my upcoming shot when a piercing voice came over the club house loud speaker, “Would the gentleman on the women’s’ tee back up to the men’s tee  please!”  I could feel every eye on the course looking at me. I was still deep in my routine, seemingly impervious to the interruption.

Again the announcement, “Would the man on the women’s’ tee kindly back up to the men’s tee.”   I simply ignored the guy and kept concentrating, when once more, the Man yelled,   “Would the man on the women’s tee back up to the men’s tee, please!”

I finally stopped, turned, cupped my hands and shouted back …..    “Would the jerk with the microphone kindly keep quiet and let me play my second shot?”

=====*=====

How to give a pill to a cat and a dog

CAT:

1) Pick cat up and cradle it in the crook of your left arm as if holding a baby. Position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat’s mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As the cat opens mouth, pop pill into mouth. Allow cat to close mouth and swallow.

2) Retrieve pill from floor and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left arm and repeat process.

3) Retrieve cat from bedroom, and throw soggy pill away.

4) Take new pill from foil wrap, cradle cat in left arm holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten.

5) Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and cat from top of wardrobe. Call spouse from garden.

6) Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees, hold front and rear paws. Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to hold head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and vigorously rub cat’s throat.

7) Retrieve cat from curtain rail, get another pill from foil wrap. Make a note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set to one side for gluing later.

8) Wrap cat in large towel and get spouse to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force mouth open with pencil and blow down drinking straw.

9) Check label to make sure pill is not harmful to humans, drink 1 beer to take taste away. Apply Band-Aid to spouse’s forearm and remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.

10) Retrieve cat from neighbor’s shed. Get another pill. Open another beer. Place cat in cupboard and close door onto neck to leave head showing. Force mouth open with dessert spoon. Flick pill down throat with elastic band.

11) Fetch screwdriver from garage and put cupboard door back on hinges. Drink beer. Fetch bottle of scotch. Pour shot, drink. Apply cold compress to cheek and check records for date of your last tetanus jab. Apply whiskey compress to cheek to disinfect. Toss back another shot. Throw tee-shirt away and fetch new one from bedroom.

12) Ring fire brigade to retrieve the friggin’ cat from tree across the road. Apologize to neighbor who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Take last pill from foil wrap.

13) Tie the little @#!*#^~!’s front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining room table, find heavy duty Pruning gloves from shed. Push pill into mouth followed by large piece of fillet steak. Be rough about it. Hold head vertically and pour 2 pints of water down throat to wash pill down.

14) Consume remainder of Scotch. Get spouse to drive you to the emergency room, sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm and removes pill remnants from right eye. Call furniture shop on way home to order new table.

DOG: Wrap pill in bacon, cheese or peanut butter. Make him beg.

***

You’ve heard about the hopeless gambler who was on the wrong side of 10 consecutive football bets. He decided to switch to wagering on basketball. Again, he lost 10 in a row. His luck got no better gambling on baseball. He went 0 for 10.

His friend tried to help him out of his losing streak.

“Have you thought about betting on hockey instead?” the friend suggested.

“Hockey?” the gambler hollered in disgust. “Are you nuts? I don’t know anything about hockey.”

 

Christian Humor – No Joke

Drivers Licence

A young boy had just gotten his driving permit. He asked his father, who was a minister, if they could discuss the use of the car. His father took him to his study and said to him, “I’ll make a deal with you. You bring your grades up, study your bible a little and get your hair cut and we’ll talk about it.”

After about a month the boy came back and again asked his father if they could discuss use of the car. They again went to the father’s study where his father said, “Son, I’ve been real proud of you. You have brought your grades up, you’ve studied your bible diligently, but you didn’t get your hair cut!”

The young man waited a moment and replied, “You know Dad, I’ve been thinking about that. You know, Samson had long hair, Moses had long hair, Noah had long hair, and even Jesus had long hair….”

To which his father replied….”Yes, and they WALKED everywhere they went!”

***

What’s the difference between a cult, and a religion??
In a cult, there’s a guy at the top who knows it’s a scam. In a religion, that guy is dead.

***

A minister parked his car in a no-parking zone in a large city because he was short of time and couldn’t find a space with a meter. So he put a note under the windshield wiper that read: “I have circled the block 100 times. If I don’t park here, I’ll miss my appointment. FORGIVE US OUR TRESPASSES.”

When he returned, he found a citation from a police officer along with this note. “I’ve circled this block for 10 years. If I don’t give you a ticket, I’ll lose my job. LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.”

***

Terri asked her Sunday School class to draw pictures of their favorite Bible stories. She was puzzled by Kyle’s picture, which showed four people on an airplane, so she asked him which story it was meant to represent.

“The flight to Egypt,” said Kyle.

“I see … And that must be Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus,” Ms. Terri said. “But who’s the fourth person?”

“Oh, that’s Pontius-the Pilot.”

***

Our pastor, an avid golfer, was once taking part in a local tournament. As he was preparing to tee off, the organizer of the tournament approached him and pointed to the dark, threatening storm clouds which were gathering.

“Preacher,” the organizer said, “I trust you’ll see to it that the weather won’t turn bad on us.”

Our pastor shook his head. “Sorry,” he replied. “I’m sales, not management!

***

Did Jesus pay for our sins with cash or credit card?
He used praypal.

***

A little boy opened the big and old family Bible with fascination, and looked at the old pages as he turned them. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible, and he picked it up and looked at it closely. It was an old leaf from a tree, that had been pressed in between the pages.

“Momma, look what I found,” the boy called out.

“What have you got there, dear?” his mother asked.

With astonishment in the young boy’s voice, he answered: “I think it’s Adam’s suit!”

***

The Letter

A minister was opening his mail one morning. Drawing a single sheet of paper from one envelope, he found written on it only one word: “FOOL.”

The Sunday he announced, “I have known many people who have written letters and forgotten to sign their name. But this week I received a letter that someone signed but forgot to write the letter.”

 

Church Whisper

A mother took her little boy to church.

While in church the little boy said, “Mommy, I have to pee.”

The mother said to the little boy, “It’s not appropriate to say the word ‘pee’ in church. So, from now on whenever you have to ‘pee’ just tell me that you have to ‘whisper’.”

The following Sunday, the little boy went to church with his father and during the service said to his father, “Daddy, I have to whisper.“

The father looked at him and said, “Okay, just whisper in my ear.”

….This is why moms and dads need to make sure they’re on the same page!  😆

 

Laugh – It’s The Christian Thing To Do

Nun

Two nuns are doing their grocery shopping.

As they pass the cooler full of beer, one nun says longingly to the other one, “A cold beer would go down great tonight!”

“Indeed,” the other nun replies, “but how can we show up with beer at the check-out counter?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” the first nun answers. “Grab a six-pack.”

The cashier is surprised when he sees the beer, but the one nun is ready with an explanation.

“We use the beer to wash our hair,” she says, “At the convent, we call it ‘Catholic shampoo.’”

Without hesitation the cashier bends down, grabs a package of pretzels, and throws it in one of the nuns’ grocery bags, saying “The curlers are on the house.”

***

A man suffered a serious heart attack and had an open heart bypass surgery. He awakened from the surgery to find himself in the care of nuns at a Catholic Hospital.

As he was recovering, a nun asked him questions regarding how he was going to pay for his treatment. She asked if he had health insurance.

He replied, in a raspy voice, “No health insurance.”

The nun asked if he had money in the bank.

He replied, “No money in the bank.”

The nun asked, “Do you have a relative who could help you?”

He said, “I only have a spinster sister, who is a nun.”

The nun became agitated and announced loudly, “Nuns are not spinsters! Nuns are married to God.”

The patient replied, “Send the bill to my Brother-in-law.

***

ON THE OTHER HAND

I was walking across a bridge one day and I saw a man standing on a ledge, about to jump off. So I ran over and said, “Stop! Don’t do it!”
“Why shouldn’t I?” he said.
“Well, there’s so much to live for.” “Like what?” “Well, are you religious?” He said yes. I said, “Me too! Are you Christian or Buddhist?” “Christian.” “Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?”
“Protestant.” “Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?”
“Baptist.” “Wow, me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?”
“Reformed Baptist Church of God.” “Me too. Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1789 or Reformed Baptist Church of God, 1915?”
He said, “Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915.”
I said, “Die, heretic scum!!” and pushed him off the bridge.

***

Priest

The priest was preparing a dying man for his voyage into the great beyond.

Whispering firmly, the priest said, “Denounce the devil! Let him know how little you think of his evil!”

The dying man said nothing.

The priest repeated his order.

Still the dying man said nothing.

The priest asked, “Why do you refuse to denounce the devil and his evil?”

The dying man said, “Until I know where I’m heading, I don’t think I ought to aggravate anybody.”

***

One pleasant afternoon, a Priest and a Nun were out golfing. The father deferred to the Nun on the first hole, and she hit a nice ball towards the green. The Father tees up, then smacks the ball into the woods. “Damn it! #$*^&%$#%^@$# %#&^%&!$, I MISSED!” he cries. “Father!” says the Nun, “You should watch your language. The Lord will not like it.”

The second hole comes up. The father tees off, and the ball once again goes sailing into the woods. “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!” he cries. “Father!” says the Nun, “Watch what you say! It is Blasphemy!”

On the third hole, the father again tees up his ball. Once again, the ball sails wide, this time landing in the water hazard. “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!” he cries. As the Nun starts to speak, a great bolt of lightning sails down from the sky and strikes the Nun, reducing her to ash. From the sky comes a booming voice: “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!”

***

A small-town preacher was known for getting around town on his bicycle.
One day, a neighbor noticed him walking and asked him about his missing bike.

The preacher said, “Can you believe someone stole it?!”
The man replied, “I have an idea. On Sunday, give a sermon on the Ten Commandments. When you get to Thou Shalt Not Steal, really rail on it, and the thief is sure to feel guilty and return your bike.”
The preacher agreed and went on his way.

A week later, the neighbor again ran into the preacher, reunited with his bike.

“So the sermon worked, I see!”
The preacher answered, “Apparently so! I got to Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery and remembered where I left my bike.”

I’ll Be The Judge Of That

Lawyer

Oh damn! They want us to do our civic duty again. Do they think that retired people have nothing but spare time?? I already voted. Now they want the wife and I to fill out questionnaires to go into a pot for jury duty.

About ten years ago, just before I quit working, I got a notice that I was already in a jury pool. They would contact me when I had to report. They must have pulled enough other rabbits out of their legal hat, because nothing ever came of it. I never got any further notice, written, electronic, or phone.

It’s not that I object to jury duty. It could be quite entertaining. It might be even more entertaining when they find that my over-active bladder needs to hit the washroom once an hour. I could take a big plastic pop-bottle with me, like some of the long-haul truckers, but there’s not the same privacy in a courtroom. I might get arrested for indecent exposure right there in the jury box.

After 18 months without a power wheelchair, the daughter was finally awarded a new one, along with a 4-wheeled walker. The new, local, manager of the Ontario Assistive Devices Program office felt that, if she qualified for one before, she should get another one.

Still, I have a daughter and a wife, both semi-disabled. With the son working all night, and sleeping all day, I am the only licensed driver available to convey them and me to an never-ending series of medical appointments – GPs, dentists, Osteopath, massage therapy, Internal Medicine, Neurologist, Rheumatologist, Optometrist, Ophthalmologist, Chiropractor, Podiatrist, Optical Surgeon, medical clinic for blood work and X-rays, pain-management clinic for infusion treatment….

How I miss the days when we were all boringly healthy. My wall calendar is full of color-coded appointments. In any given month, with20/22 weekdays, 12 to 18 of them will have marker notes in them, occasionally 2 in one day. Hell, Donald Trump has more spare time to play golf, than I do. If either/both of us get summoned, I’m going to take that calendar along. While I’d love some time off, I have commitments that I have to honor. My doctor recently told me that she could/would write me a letter to get me off.

Maybe if I ask the selection foreman if we still have the death penalty…. 😳

Have any of you ever sat on a jury? What crime(s)? How long did it last?

That’s Not (Precisely) Funny

German Shepherd

Gerry Seinfeld is rolling over in his grave – or, he would be, if he were dead, and if he reads this, he might be.

There are times when comedy, or other facets of life, depend on precision.   Jerry was/is a precisionist.  He replaced a generic ‘dog’, with a ‘German Shepherd,’ in a joke about a blind skydiver, and killed.  He and a friend argued for an hour, about whether to use ‘a’ or ‘the’ in a joke.

Just as often though, it is necessary for the joke-teller to rely on the listener’s imagination.  Sometimes, precision can kill the humor.

Recently, while plagiarizing researching jokes for my comedy posts, I ran into the old classic about a couple making out in a car.  When the male asks the female if she’d like to get into the back seat, the Blonde wails that she’d rather stay in the front with him.

Ditzy Blonde

The Blonde lady who posted it, took the time and trouble to rewrite it, and place the amorous couple in a CORVETTE.  Ever the pedantic buzzkill, I reminded her that unlike the sports car Thunderbird, which morphed into a gigantic land-yacht, Corvettes never had a back seat.

I got back a grumpy (and I’m an expert on grumpy), “Well, maybe it was a BWM then.”  Maybe it was, but why did you feel the need to be specific – and wrong?  Why not just use the generic ‘car,’ the way every other joke-teller does, and let the readers’ imaginations supply their own.  I could imagine a 1928 Essex, because a man in my home-town turned one into a French fry wagon.

Today’s rant about Nothing, is brought to you because I couldn’t imagine a theme for last week’s 100-word Flash Fiction, I didn’t have a WOW composed and ready, and I published a comedy post out of sequence.

I’d like to blame exposure to Donald Trump, during our week-long visit to DC.  Our Osteopath claims that our trip was a success.  Trump was quiet all the time that we were there, but that was because he was too busy playing golf in Florida.  My digestion and my blog-site are all regular again.  Please stop back soon, so that I can prove it….  the blogging – not the digestion.  Ew, Ew, Ew.  😯

Comin’ ‘Round The Mountains

Condom

A 50 year old man walks into a store and asks the
pretty girl behind the counter where the condoms
are. “What size are you?” she asks.

The man replies “I don’t know”. So, she unzips
his pants and whips out his dick and says
“Ooooh, extra large condoms, Aisle 3”

A 30 year old walks in and asks the same thing.
She unzips his pants whips it out and says “Large
condoms – Aisle 3”

A 14 year old is standing outside and sees all
this “I wonder if I go in there and ask if she’ll
do the same for me?”

So, he goes in and asks…She unzips his pants,
whips it out and shouts “Clean-up to the Counter
please!”

***

We have enough youth,
how about a fountain of smart?

***

A physicist, an engineer, and a statistician go on a hunting trip. They are walking through the woods when they spot a deer in a clearing. The physicist calculates the distance of the target, the velocity and drop of the bullet, adjusts his rifle and fires, missing the deer 5 feet to the left.

The engineer rolls his eyes. ‘You forgot to account for wind. Give it here!’ He snatches the rifle, licks his finger and estimates the speed and direction of the wind and fires, missing the deer 5 feet to the right. Suddenly, the statistician claps his hands and yells “We got him!”

***

Doc: Your lab tests show that you’re doing fairly well for a 65-year-old.
Male Patient: “Fairly well”… Do you think I’ll live to be 80?

Do you smoke tobacco or drink beer or wine?
     No. I’m not doing drugs either.

Do you eat rib eye steaks or barbecued ribs?
     No. I think all red meat is very unhealthy.

Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like golfing, sailing, hiking or bicycling?
No, I don’t.

Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have a lot of sex?
No, I don’t do any of those things.

Then why the hell do you want to live to be 80?

***

Why Jim Wheeler doesn’t like this joke

A man worked as a Production Engineer, always trying to find ways to do things faster, easier, cheaper. One day a co-worker asked him if he was like this in his entire life. “Oh yes.” He replied. “Just last week I mentioned to the wife that her system of making my breakfast was inefficient, and made several suggestions as to how she might improve things.” “Did it help?” “Oh yes, she used to take a half an hour to make me fried eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. Now, I do it myself in less than 18 minutes.”

😯

 

Indoor Golf

Golf Pin

Golfers might want to ‘brush up’ on the rules:

  1. Each player shall furnish his own equipment
    for play, normally one club and two balls.
  2. Play on course must be approved by the owner
    of the hole.
  3. Unlike outdoor golf, the object is to get
    the club in the hole and keep the balls out.
  4. For most effective play, the club should
    have a firm shaft. Course owners are permitted
    to check shaft stiffness before play begins.
  5. Course owners reserve the right to restrict
    club length to avoid damage to the hole.
  6. Object of the game is to take as many
    strokes as necessary. When the owner is
    satisfied, the play is complete. Failure to
    do so may result in being denied permission
    to play again.
  7. It is considered bad form to begin playing
    the hole immediately upon arrival.
    Experienced players will normally take time to
    admire the entire course, paying special
    attention to well formed mounds and bunkers.
  8. Players are cautioned not to mention other
    courses they have played or are currently
    playing, to the owner of the course being played.
    Upset owners have been known to damage players
    equipment for this reason.
  9. Players are encouraged to have proper rain
    gear, just in case.
  10. Players should not assume that the course
    is in shape to play at all times. Players may be
    embarrassed if they find the course temporarily
    under repair. Players are advised to be extremely
    tactful in this situation. More advanced players
    will find alternate means of play when this is
    the case.
  11. Players should assume their match has been
    properly scheduled, particularly when playing a
    new course for the first time. Previous players
    have been known to become irate if they discover
    someone else is playing what they considered a
    private course.
  12. The owner of the course is responsible for
    the pruning of any bushes, which may reduce the
    visibility of the hole.
  13. Players are strongly advised to get the
    owner’s permission before attempting to play the
    backside.
  14. Slow play is encouraged, however, players
    should be prepared to proceed at a quicker pace
    at the owners request.
  15. It is considered an outstanding performance,
    if time permitting, to play the same hole several
    times in one match.

***

Sexual Innuendo

 

April Challenge – B

April Challenge

This blog-post is brought to you by the number 3.1415926, and the letter B.

Letter B

Basement; a story of a building, partly or wholly underground.

***

When they were first married, they were madly in love, always together. Couldn’t keep their hands off each other, joined at the hip – frequently. Went everywhere together.

He had to go to work to support his wife, and soon, their children. She became a housekeeper, remaining at home, to cook and clean, and raise the kids.  Still, they loved each other, and often expressed it – a quick kiss or a pat on the bum.

His career progressed. He worked longer hours and had to take courses.  When she wasn’t tied up with the kids, she got to coffee-klatch with other neighborhood wives, but they always made time for each other.

While they still liked each other greatly, and showed it, they found that they had different interests. He took up golf; she joined a bowling league.  He read only best-sellers and wondered what she got from the Historical Romance novels she read.  Still, there were the pecks on the cheek, and the rubbing of a forearm.

His job required him to travel occasionally. When he was out of town, she took the opportunity to visit a sister he considered a loud-mouthed trouble-maker.  When he returned home, they had little of interest to discuss with each other.

She moved into one of the children’s abandoned bedrooms, because ‘he snored.’ He might not snore if she didn’t stay awake all night, reading.

With the kids married, or off at college, organized evening meals became infrequent. One or the other might make food for them both, but it was seldom eaten together at the table.  She lounged in her bed and watched Downton Abbey.  He rocked back in the rec-room recliner and watched baseball or football.

One day he realized that they hadn’t spoken a word to each other in days – and he didn’t worry about it. They were down to having corridor sex.  If they met in the hallway, she would hiss, “Fuck you!”  He would reply, “Screw you, Bitch.”  Life had become an armed truce.

He realized that living together – separately, was better than splitting up. His benefits package covered her.  They only had one cable TV bill, one phone bill, one Internet provider.  The mortgage was retired, so neither would have to rent an apartment.

One day though, she gravely approached him, and told him that she wanted her space – without him in it. Somewhat sadly, he signed the divorce papers, and made arrangements to sell off the house and contents.  That was how he had come to be living in this basement, bachelor apartment.