September 30, 2005

Sept. 30, 2005

A young man asked an old rich man how he made his money. The old guy fingered his worsted wool vest and said, "Well, son, it was 1932, the depth of the Great Depression. I was down to my last nickel.

I invested that nickel in an apple. I spent the entire day polishing the apple and, at the end of the day, I sold the apple for ten cents.

The next morning, I invested those ten cents in two apples. I spent the entire day polishing them and sold them at 5:00 PM for 20 cents.

I continued this system for a month, by the end of which I'd accumulated a fortune of $3.50.

Then my wife's father died and left us ten million dollars."

The telemarketer on the other end of my phone said he was with The Rubber Band Powered Freezer company or something like that, so I asked him if he knew William personally and why was he calling this number. I then said off to the side, "get really good pictures of the body and all the blood" then turned back to the phone and advised the caller that he had entered a murder scene and must stay on the line because we had already traced this call and he would be receiving a summons to appear in the local courthouse to testify in this murder case.

I then questioned the caller at great length as to his name, address, phone number at home, at work, who he worked for, how he knew the dead guy and could he prove where he had been about one hour before he made this call.

The telemarketer was getting very concerned, and his answers were given in a shaky voice. I then told him we had located his position at work and the police were entering the building to take him into custody. At that point I heard the phone fall and the scurrying of his running away.

My wife asked me as I returned to our table why I had tears streaming down my face and so help me, I couldn't tell her for about fifteen minutes.

My meal was cold, but after what I had done, still very enjoyable.

Posted by Tiger at 09:34 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

September 28, 2005

Questions that just beg to be asked---

Have you ever gazed upon a snoozin' Susan?

Hmmm, guess I was mistaken because she just turned to me and asked: "How many tucums could a Tucumcari carry, if a Tucumcari could carry tucums?" Confused?

Posted by Tiger at 09:43 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

What would John Hopkins make of this?

Last evening, as I rose from my (couch potato) chair, I felt what I believed to be a major charlie horse in my right calf. The pain was excruciating, making it extremely difficult to walk. Despite such, I made a valiant effort to do so -- thinking it was a simple muscle cramp I could walk off. It should have only been so easy. Next I tried a hot medicated bath, but found relief neither in nor after a long relaxing soak. Thereafter, I applied two topical agents designed to relieve muscle pain without effect. Finally, I just hoped some cessation would follow a good night's sleep. However, I awoke to find myself still hobbled on my morning run to you-know-where. I first thought, having no pressing court dates for today, to just stay in. However, due to a scheduled trial for most of next week, I did have a very lot to do to rearrange my scheduling conflicts for that period. So -- reluctant as I was to do so -- I dressed and pulled on my cowboy boots, prepared to go meet my obligations. I stepped toward the door with my right foot, tensing against the pain that had accompanied every recent attempt, without any such sensation. After walking around all day wearing my cowboy boots, I was, when dressing down for comfort at the end of the business day, able to remove them and again able to walk around my house barefooted. I would never have thought a day's trek in pair of cowboy boots could possibly cure anything. However, I find that, thanks to my boots, I now stand corrected.

Posted by Tiger at 08:27 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

September 23, 2005

Sept. 23, 2005

A man walks into a drug store and wanders confusedly up and down the aisles.

The sales girl notices his actions and asks if she can assist in locating whatever it is he seeks.

He answers that he was sent to get a box of tampons for his wife.

She directs him to the correct aisle.

A few minutes later, he returns with a huge bag of cotton balls and a spool of twine. Confused, she inquires, "Sir, I thought you were wanting tampons?"

He smiles and replies, "You see, it's like this . . . yesterday, I sent my wife to the store for a carton of cigarettes. She came back with a tin of tobacco and some rolling papers because it's so very much cheaper. I figure whatever is good enough for the gander is good enough for the goose.”

Posted by Tiger at 10:05 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

September 22, 2005

Where's Rita? Room for rent


Picture produced by ACCUWEATHER

Picture found here.
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September 20, 2005

The stupidest game in the world

Somehow Moona and myself have gotten to the point where the only game we play is based upon "How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?" The object is to use something different, like a two syllable word or a two word phrase, usually, although sometimes we go a bit overboard. My favorite has been "How many bricks could a brickbat bat if a brickbat could bat bricks?"

Of course, a brickbat is actually a piece broken off of a brick, so it would almost be impossible to bat a brick with such. A better example is "How many stops could a stop sign sign if a stop sign could sign stops?"

I told you it was the stupidest game in the world. Knowing such, however, will likely cause you to join in. Feel free to do so in the comments.

Posted by Tiger at 10:20 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

September 18, 2005

September 16, 2005 (2 days late)

Teddy came bounding down the stairs, much to his father's annoyance.

"Teddy," he called, "How many times have I told you to come down those stairs quietly? Now, you just take yourself back upstairs and try to come down like a civilized being!"

Teddy tromped back up the stairs, much to his father chagrin, but reappeared in the living room following a few minutes of silence.

"Much better," his father quipped. "In the future, please always come down the stairs exactly like that."

"No problem, Pops," the kid snapped back. "I really enjoyed sliding down the banister."

Posted by Tiger at 03:36 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

September 15, 2005

A joke with any other name could be just as funny

Pedro was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn't find a parking place. Looking up toward heaven, he said "Lord, take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of my life and give up tequila."

Miraculously, a parking place appeared. Pedro looked up again and said "Never mind. I found one."

There was no intention involved by the use of the name Pedro or his preference for tequila and Catholicism. The joke could apply to Baptist Bubba and beer or James, the Presbyterian Deacon, and his preference for young blondes and Scotch on the rocks.

Posted by Tiger at 08:37 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

September 14, 2005

Let there be light

Two boys from the city were on a camping trip. The mosquitoes were so fierce the boys had to hide under their blankets to keep from being bitten. Then one of them saw some lightning bugs, and said to his friend: "we might as well give up, they're coming at us with flashlights!"
Posted by Tiger at 09:18 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

September 13, 2005

Tig's rules for drawing comments

Make sure the word "Tampax" appears prominently in your post. No, actually, I just want to thank David, Lyn, and Denita for their continued readership of my paltry blogging efforts. You guys are champs.

Posted by Tiger at 09:45 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

September 12, 2005

No one likes my jokes but OzGuru

Two young boys walked into a pharmacy one day, picked out a box of Tampax and proceeded to the checkout counter. The man at the counter asked the older boy, "Son, how old are you?" "Eight", the boy replied. The man continued, "Do you know how these are used?" The boy replied, "Not exactly, but they aren't for me. They are for him. He's my little brother. He's four. We saw on TV that if you use these, you would be able to swim and ride a bike. He can't do either one."
Posted by Tiger at 08:51 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

September 09, 2005

Sept. 9, 2005

Boudreaux's first military assignment was to a military induction center, and--because he was a good talker they assigned him the duty of advising new recruits about the government benefits, especially the GI insurance.

Before long the Captain in charge of the induction center began noticing that Boudreaux was getting a 99% sign up for the top GI insurance.

This was odd,--it would cost these poor inductees nearly $30.00 per month more for their higher coverage.

The Captain decided that he would not ask Boudreaux about his selling techniques but would sit in the back of the room and observe Boudreaux's sales pitch.

Boudreaux stood up before his latest group of inductees and stated, "If you have da normal GI insurance and go to Iraq and get killed,the government pays your beneficiary $6,000. If you take out da supplemental GI insurance (which cost you only $30.00 a month), the government has to pay your beneficiary $200,000."

"NOW," Boudreaux concluded, "which bunch do you think dey gonna send to Iraq first?

Since I dropped the ball last week, I left another in the extended entry.

Two rednecks, Bubba and Cooter, decided they should go to the University of North Carolina so they could get ahead. Bubba went in first, and the professor advised him to take Math, History, and Logic.

"What's Logic?" Bubba asked.

"Well, let me give you an example," said the professor. "Do you own a weed-eater?"

"Sure do," the redneck responded.

"Okay. Then I assume, using logic, that you have a yard," the professor went on.

"That's real good," said the redneck, in awe.

"Logic also tells me that since you have a yard, you also have a house. Is that right?"

"GAWL-LEE!" the redneck shouted.

"And since you own a house and a house is tough to take care of by yourself, logic dictates that you have a wife. Right?"

"Betty Mae! This is incredible!" Bubba is catching on now.

"Finally, since you have a wife, logically I can assume you are heterosexual rather than homosexual. Is that right?"

"You are absolutely right! Why that's the most fascination' thang I ever heerd of. I can't wait to take this here logic class!"

Bubba, proud of the new world opening up to him, walked back into the hallway where Cooter is still waiting.

"So what classes are ya takin"? Cooter asks.

"Math, History, and Logic," replied Bubba.

"What in tarnation is logic?" asks Cooter.

"Let me give you an example," Bubba says. "Do you own a weed-eater?"

"No." says Cooter.

"You're queer, aintcha?"

Posted by Tiger at 12:04 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack