What’s this? It’s not Friday!
Yes, you are right, dear readers, but I will be without my laptop for a day or two from Thursday whilst the priests of the new religion, ie the computer geeks, replace my hard drive and transfer all the data.
Knowing that my dad-in-law, Noel, likes his weekly Friday fix of humour, Funny Friday comes to you on Thursday instead of Friday.
Hopefully it won’t be too disorienting.
Which reminds me of an oldie but a goodie (which is pretty much also a description of my father-in-law). . .
Three old men were walking.
One remarked "Windy, ain't it?"
"No," the second man replied, "It's Thursday."
"So am I." said the third man, "Let's go have a drink."
A similar one . . .
Charlie: "I just bought the most expensive, high-tech hearing aids available."
Eddie: "No shit! What kind is it?"
Charlie: "Quarter past nine."
SOME HUMOUR . . .
I finally left my house to go out to the store this week, and who do I see but my pastor comes walking over to me with a Bible under his arm.
And this fella, he says to me, 'I haven't seen you in church recently.'
Well that made me mad, because you know, anybody who knows me knows that I've been in my house for the last two months with the virus going around. And he can tell I'm mad, but that doesn't stop him.
This fella goes to hand me his Bible, and he says 'A man of your age and your condition, I think you need to start thinking about the hereafter. Now, I've outlined a few passages that I think you ought to read.'
But I pushed it back into his hands, and I say 'Pastor. You can keep your Bible. I don't need it. I think about the hereafter every damn day. First thing when I wake up in the morning, I walk into the kitchen, then I go into the bathroom, then I go into my bedroom again, then I go back into the kitchen and stand there looking into the icebox for twenty damn minutes wondering....
“Now what was I hereafter?'
The sky was looking ominous so I asked Siri, “Surely, it’s not going to rain again today?”
She replied, “Yes, it is and don’t call me Shirley!”
I guess I left my phone in Airplane mode again...
Two elderly women were eating breakfast in a restaurant one morning.
Ethel noticed something funny about Mabel's ear and said, "Mabel, did you know you've got a suppository in your left ear? "
Mabel answered, "I have a suppository?"
She pulled it out and stared at it.
Then she said, "Ethel, I'm glad you saw this thing. Now I think I know where my hearing aid is."
When I said you were a suppository of knowledge,
I meant you were great at talking out your ass.
I added this joke not because it is a great bit of humour but because our great and glorious leader, Tony Abbott, who was Prime Minister of Oz in the years 2013-2015, was quoted in 2013 as having said: "No one, however smart, however well-educated, however experienced … is the suppository of all wisdom."
It was dubbed overseas as The Blunder from Down Under, as well as prompting comments that he had hit a bum note, was talking out of his arse again and that he let one rip.
Actual Church Bulletin Headlines . . .
The 1991 Spring Council retreat will be hell May 10 and 11.
Pastor is on vacation. Massages can be given to church secretary.
The ladies of the church have cast-off clothing of every kind and they may be seen in the church basement Friday.
Don’t let worry kill you. Let the Church help.
The associate minister unveiled the church’s new tithing campaign slogan last Sunday:
"I Upped My Pledge - Now Up Yours"
A new loudspeaker system has been installed in the Church. It was given by one of our members in honor of his wife.
Weight Watchers will meet at 7 p.m. at the First Presbyterian Church.
Please use large double door at the side entrance.
The senior choir invites any member of the congregation who enjoys sinning to join the choir.
At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What is Hell?"
Come early and listen to our choir practice.
Irving Beltson and Jessie were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.
The Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10. All ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B.S.
FROM THE VAULT . . .
Bill has worked in a pickle factory for several years. One day he confesses to his wife that he has a terrible urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer. His wife suggests that he see a therapist to talk about it, but Bill vows to overcome this rash desire on his own.
A few weeks later, Bill returns home absolutely ashen. His wife asks, "What's wrong, Bill?"
"Do you remember how I told you about my tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?"
His wife gasps, "My God, Bill, what happened?"
"I got fired."
"No, Bill -- I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?"
"She got fired, too."
LIMERICK OF THE WEEK . . .
There once was a girl who intended
To keep herself morally splendid
And ascend into glory,
Which is quite a good story,
Except that that’s not how it ended.
GALLERY . . .
Contribution by Kate:
What do you call 10 rabbits marching backwards?
A receding hare line.
Fool your wife into thinking you can speak chimpanzee, by stepping into a piping hot bath too quickly
Attila walks into a quaint Southern diner.
Waitress says, “What can I get you, Hun?”
What do you call somebody with no body, And No Nose?
(Yes, I know I should be shot for that).
My wife said she was leaving me because I can’t do anything right when it comes to housework! Selfish woman!!
It took me hours to mop that carpet!!
An archaeologist is visiting a small town in Nevada. He's just ambling around, enjoying the play of the autumn light on the terracotta and adobe-colored buildings. He rounds a corner and is surprised to see the most, bar none, stunningly beautiful alley he's ever come across...
It may sound like he's a bit nerdy, but we all have our things we love and he's a lover of old streets.
The ground of the alley is a light orange in hue, with a soft almost nutty sheen and texture.
His feet feel refreshed!
The street has gorgeous slopes and embankments, like an alleyway out of Florence in the 1500s, but made out of clay stones.
He sees two gentlemen working on fixing a small crack in the street, the only blemish for blocks.
One of them is pounding down the clay with a wide-head sledgehammer, thwap thwap!
The other is on his knees with a compass and a pick and a broom, adjusting the grade of the street material.
He interrupts them to say, "Excuse me gentlemen! I hate to be a bother, but I just want to applaud your hard work on this alleyway. It's rare a city takes such good care with its streets and this one is one of the best."
The man with the sledge stops and says, "Well, we appreciate that sir. You know your streets, it seems! Would it surprise you to know that the composition of this street is not adobe? It's mulched with our native nut trees, the cashew nut. That's what gives it its softness. When it rains, the petrichor has a slight sweetness due to the cashew, and the town smells fantastic. I'm just hammering it down before it gets too cold."
"Well, I'll be!" cried the archaeologist. "And what's that fellow up to?" pointing to the man on his knees.
"Oh him! He's in charge of checking the grade of the clay. If it's too rough, he picks and sweeps it. Backbreaking work. We hire four of them, one for each season. And since autumn just arrived, he's got a few months yet. So you see..."
And here the man paused...
"So you see...my hammered alley is really 'cashews clay'. And he is the gradist."
"The gradist...of fall time."
Thank you ladies and gents, you’ve been a wonderful audience, catch you when my ‘puter is back.