Although we had planned to get married in New Hampshire, I wanted to add a touch of home from the state of Kansas where I grew up, to our wedding.
My fiancee, explained this to a friend, and told him that we were planning to have wheat rather than rice thrown after the ceremony.
Our friend thought for a moment. Then he said solemnly, “It’s a good thing she’s not from Idaho.”
A clergyman parked his car in a no parking zone in the city because he was short of time and couldn’t find a free parking space.
Feeling guilty, he put a note under the windshield wiper that read: “I have driven around the block 10 times. If I don’t park here, I will miss my appointment. Forgive us our trespasses.”
When he returned to his car, he found a ticket from a traffic warden 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.”
Stand proud you noble swingers of clubs and losers of golf balls.
A recent study found that the average golfer walks about 900 miles a year.
Another study found that golfers drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.
This means that on average, golfers get about 41 miles to the gallon.
Kind of makes you proud.
I almost feel like a hybrid.
While patrolling around the state park late one autumn day, a Park Ranger discovered Bubba sitting in the woods, chewing away on a dead Bald Eagle.
“Hey you there, the Bald Eagle is a protected species, and killing one is punishable offence”, said the Park Ranger.
Bubba was swiftly arrested, and ushered before the judge.
In court, he pleaded innocent to the charges against him, claiming that if he didn’t eat the bald eagle he would have died from starvation.
“I was so hungry,” complained Bubba, “and the Bald Eagle was the only food I could find!”
To everyone’s amazement, the judge ruled in his favor.
In the judge’s closing statement he said to Bubba, “I would like you to ask you something before I let you go. I have never eaten a bald eagle, nor ever plan on it. But I would like to know: What did it taste like?”
Bubba answered, “Well to tell you the truth Your Honor, it tasted like a cross between a Whooping Crane and a Spotted Owl.”
(Image of a Bald Eagle from Wikipedia)
Three fairly dumb looking men just died and are waiting outside the pearly gates of heaven.
St. Peter tells them that they can enter the gates if they can answer one simple question.
St. Peter asks the first man, “WHAT IS EASTER?”
The man replies, “Oh, that’s easy, it’s the holiday in November when everybody gets together, eats turkey, and is thankful…”
“WRONG,” replies St. Peter, and proceeds to ask the second man the same question, “WHAT IS EASTER?”
The second man replies, “No, Easter is the holiday in December when we put up a nice tree, exchange presents, and celebrate the birth of Jesus.”
St. Peter looks at the second man, shakes his head in disgust, looks at the third man and asks, “WHAT IS EASTER?”
The third man smiles and looks St. Pete right in the eye.
“I know what Easter is. Easter is the Christian holiday that coincides with the Jewish celebration of Passover. Jesus and his disciples were eating at the last supper and He was later deceived and turned over to the Romans by one of his disciples. The Romans took Him to be crucified and was stabbed in the side, made Him wear a crown of thorns, and He was hung on a cross. He was buried in a nearby cave which was sealed off by a large boulder.”
The man continues…
“Every year the boulder is moved aside so that Jesus can come out, and if He sees his shadow there will be six more weeks of winter.”
So there was this guy going 90 mph on his way to Dallas with these balloons trailing a few yards behind him, and everyone on the road was giving him strange looks, and some were going into panic mode.
Here are some simple instructions on how to have a fun time on the interstate:
Step 1. Tie balloons to car.
Step 2. Drive like a bat out of hell!
Step 3. Watch people freak out!!!!
A drunk who smelled of beer sat down on a subway next to a priest.
The man’s tie was stained, his face was plastered with lipstick, and a half empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket.
He opened his newspaper and began reading.
After a few minutes the man turned to the priest and asked, “Say Father,what causes arthritis?”
The priest replies, “My Son, arthritis is caused by loose living, being with cheap, wicked women, too much alcohol, contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with prostitutes and lack of a bath.”
The drunk muttered in response, “Well, I’ll be damned”, then returned to his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?”
The drunk answered, “I don’t have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does.”
A Catholic priest was waiting in line to fill his car with petrol just before a long holiday weekend, and it was obvious that he was not alone, since there were a lot of other vehicles queuing at the pump.
The queue at the filling station slowly shortened, but there were many cars ahead of him.
Finally, the attendant who was doing his best to make sure that filling went as smoothly as possible motioned the priest toward a vacant pump.
“Father,” said the young man, “I’m so sorry about the delay. It seems as if everyone waits until the last minute to get ready for a long trip.”
Father Murphy chuckled, “I know what you mean. It’s the same in my line of business.”
A businessman enters a tavern, sits down at the bar, and orders a double martini on the rocks.
After he finishes the drink, he peeks inside his shirt pocket, then orders the bartender to prepare another double martini.
After he finishes that it, he again peeks inside his shirt pocket and orders the bartender to bring another double martini.
The bartender says, “Look, buddy, I’ll bring ya’ martinis all night long – but you gotta tell me why you look inside your shirt pocket before you order a refill.”
The customer replies, “I’m peeking at a photo of my wife. When she starts to look good, I know it’s time to go home.”