Monthly Archives: January 2016

From Across A Crowded Room…

bad-pun-wednesday

A man was eating in a fancy restaurant, and there was a gorgeous woman eating at the next table. He had been checking her out all night, but lacked the nerve to go talk to her.

Suddenly she sneezed and her glass eye went flying out of her socket towards the man. With his quick reflexes, he caught it in mid-air.

“Oh my goodness, I’m sooooo sorry,” the woman said as she popped her eye back into its socket. “Let me buy you dinner to make it up to you.”

They enjoyed a wonderful dinner together and afterwards the woman offered to drive him home. “But it’s over an hour out of your way,” the man said. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” she said. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The guy was amazed and flattered. “You know, you’re the perfect woman,” he said. “Are you this nice to every guy you meet?”

“No,” she replied, “you just happened to catch my eye!”

A cereal-sly bad pun

I live near a small town and farming community, and the following event happened to a friend of mine, a farmer named Ken Kellog.

Ken raises sheep, and he has this surly, unpredictable ram which boldly tries to escape the pasture at any opportunity. He also has quite a temper (the ram, not Ken).

A bunch of ravens had their nests near by — about twenty ravens in all. Ten ravens make up a swoop, just like more than four sheep are a flock, etc. Anyways, these ravens loved to harass the ram. They’d fly down into the field and caw at him until he charged at them. Then they’d all fly upward, and the ram would crash into the fence. Once, though, one of the ravens didn’t get out of the way in time, and he was crushed against the fencepost. The others decided to get revenge.

When Farmer Kellog came out to check on his sheep one day, he forgot to lock the gate properly. The ravens, working together, pushed it open, and lured the ram out into the hayfield. They flew towards the hay bailing machine, the ram bleating furiously all the way. At the last moment, the ravens pulled up — and the ram ran straight into the bailer.

He came out the other side in a mangled package.

Twenty big black birds came to perch upon him, satisfied, leaving the farmer with…. two swoops of ravens on a package of Kellog’s brazen ram.

Where I was

I got put in jail for Christmas.

It wasn’t anything I wanted, believe me.  But, when you have had enough, you have had enough and sometimes you got to act.

See, on Christmas Eve, momma was cooking Christmas dinner and needed another box of Jiffy Corn Muffin mix for the corn casserole because she used the last box for the corn casserole on Thanksgiving.

So I go out and get into the automotive perfection that is the Love Turtle.  The Love Turtle is my mint condition 1981 AMC Pacer.  Its painted  baboon-butt red with flames down the side. Yeah, its pretty sweet and it ain’t for sale.

Anywho, I drove over to the Piggly Wiggly to get some Jiffy Corn Muffin mix for momma’s corn casserole.  I wasn’t wanting no trouble.

But there this dude was. He was one of those bell ringers.  Now, I know the money goes to help folks. I do.  But, they need to rethink their marketing approach.  Ringing a bell, CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG is fine the first couple of times, but starts to get on my nerves after the fourth or fifth week.

But this fella ringing the bell outside the Piggly Wiggly crossed the line from bell ringing to something obscene.

I ain’t no angel.  I gotta tell you that, but this man was doing this in front of women, children and impressionable pets.  He was ringing and singing a medley of Justin Bieber songs.

I must have blacked out because the next thing I know, I am being cuffed and stuffed and taken to the county lock-up.  According to some who witnessed the event, it was reported that somewhere during the chorus of “Baby, Baby” I allegedly lost it. Apparently, he had to have the bell surgically removed.

I have no clear recollection. That’s what my lawyer, Lowber Wilcox says to say anyway.

Lowber is a good lawyer, because his picture is on the back of the phone book.  I bet they don’t let just any lawyer put their face on the back of a phone book.  He says he can probably get me off with some community service and a fine.

You meet some real interesting people in jail.  I met a guy named Rufus who was in jail because he has a real interest in home chemistry.  Rufus’ hobbies also included shaking like a dog trying to pass a pine cone, not sleeping, and losing his teeth.

There was a guy named Jackson waiting in the jail there before he went to Federal court because he appreciated art.   Art that looks like twenty dollar bills. He was making his own.

Then there was a guy in there from a motorcycle gang, and he made quite an impression on us. He impressed on us to give him our desserts, tobacco products, and pretty much anything else he wanted.  And we were glad to do it, because Mr. Bonecrusher was a fine gentleman and only beat on us when we had it coming.  You know, like when our shadow would touch his shadow and for breathing the same air. All very good reasons for mopping the floors with our faces.

And I am certain that there is no way that Mr. Bonecrusher could have chopped up an entire family and set their house on fire.

And Mr. Bonecrusher, if you are reading this and are upset in anyway, my actual real name is Lute Fenwick.

The Dog and The Driver

bad-pun-wednesday

Once upon a time, there were 2 brothers, Simon and Garth Brown.

They had a dog called Walter, and they loved to take the dog Walter to their Uncle Charlie’s mansion at the edge of town.

But one day, as they arrived at the mansion, they were suprised to find that the gates were locked and they couldn’t get in.

Fortunately, just then, Uncle Charlie’s tall chauffeur appeared at the mansion door and began walking toward the trio at the gates.

However, the dog Walter took a sudden dislike to the tall chauffeur, and began barking and growling, making a huge noise.

Neighbors leaned out of the windows of their mansions (the dog really was making a lot of noise) and asked what the hubbub was, and one of the neighbors replied:

“Simon and Garth’s uncle’s big chauffeur’s troubled Walter.”