The programmer’s wife tells him: “Run to the store and pick up a loaf of bread. If they have eggs, get a dozen.”
The programmer comes home with 12 loaves of bread.
Tag Archives: humor
Limerick: “$catology”
There once was a woman in scatology /
who proceeded to take a class in tautology./
“$h!t, $h!t, $h!t,” she said./
She said shaking her head./
She passed the final test without apology.
Filed under poetry by author
Monday morning writing joke: “Bark worse than his trick”
Q.: What do you call a dog that does magic tricks?
A.: Labracadabrador.
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
The midnight swim of Grace
Recently, in my hometown of Knoxville, TN, a 23-year-old woman by the name of Evelyn Grace Radford, supposedly fortified by wine and fit of limb and wind, swam not the English Channel, but the more modest Fort Loudoun Lake (sometimes referred to as Fort Loudoun Embayment. Named for an Englishman of noble lineage who never saw it and probably cared not a whit about it).
To add daring to her do, she did so in the dark of night and in no more than her bra and panties. If you do not believe me, you can read the article below or follow the link for the full story, assuming you are not stopped by some pay wall. She successfully swam the Lake, Embayment (sometimes also called the Tennessee River because this were the River starts), but was greeted by police and rescue squad personnel who had been called to the scene for fear that she had fallen in and might be drowning.
The event inspired the following modest poetic verse:
There once was a lady named Grace /
Who did the breast stroke all out-of-place. /
She swam the river with flair /
Scantily in her underwear. /
Alas, the newspaper showed only her face.
Grace’s mug shot
KNOXVILLE — A 23-year-old Knoxville woman told police late Monday night she “just wanted to swim” after making her way across Fort Loudoun Lake wearing only a bra and panties.
Evelyn Grace Radford’s near-midnight jump into the water at Volunteer Landing, however, prompted calls of a drowning to authorities who launched boats to rescue the scantily clad woman.
Her actions also prompted charges of disorderly conduct and public intoxication, records show.
Authorities were alerted at 11:54 p.m. that an intoxicated woman had stripped down to her basic clothing and jumped into the water and was swimming to the south shore, according to Knoxville Police Department Sgt. Scott Coffey.
“She left her clothing with her boyfriend at Volunteer Landing and he abruptly left the area,” Coffey said. “The witnesses indicated they believed the couple were in an argument prior to her jumping in the water.”
For the rest of the story: http://www.knoxnews.com/news/watchful-eye/midnight-swim-nets-charges-against-scantily-clad-woman_69968857
Filed under poetry by author, true story
Photo finish Friday: “The Preacher and the Creature”
The preacher and the creature: a hirsute tale
The preacher and the creature
were creeping around the wilds.
The preacher and the creature
were a contrast in styles.
The preacher had a squint;
the creature had a smirk.
The preacher gave out hints;
the creature walked herkyjerk.
They roamed the wilds together,
though rarely arm in arm
for the creature’s hide of leather
could do the preacher harm.
Yet one day he tried a saddle
upon the creature’s back
and with a little paddle
he gave a gentle whack.
Now, let this be a tale of care
for all who go astray:
the preacher had a full head of hair
until that fateful day.
That little whack, it came back
with a much bigger response.
The creature went on the attack
and sent out a fiery launch.
And when the smoke had cleared
upon that faith filled day
the preacher had a beard,
but no hair to comb away.
///
photo by Chris Buice
poem by David E. Booker
Filed under Photo Finish Friday, poetry by author
Monday morning writing joke: “An Irish priest in Texas”
An Irish priest was transferred to Texas.
Father O’Malley rose from his bed one morning. It was a fine spring day in his new west Texas mission parish.
He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside.
He then noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front lawn. He promptly called the local police station.
The conversation went like this: “Good morning. This is Sergeant Jones. How might I help you?”
“And the best of the day te yerself. This is Father O’Malley at St. Ann ‘s Catholic Church. There’s a jackass lying dead in me front lawn and would ye be so kind as to send a couple o’yer lads to take care of the matter?”
Sergeant Jones, considering himself quite a wit and recognizing the foreign accent, thought he would have a little fun with the good father, replied, “Well now Father, it was always my impression that you people took care of the last rites!”
There was dead silence on the line for a long moment. …
Father O’Malley then replied: “Aye, ’tis certainly true; but we are also obliged to notify the next of kin first, which is the reason for me call.”
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
Monday morning writing joke: “Zombies, part 4”
Q.: What type of humor does a zombie like?
A.: Deadpan.
///
Q.: What trick does a zombie teach to his dog?
A.: Play dead.
///
Q.: Why did the zombie start eating beef?
A.: He thought the label said “Brain fed.”
///
Q.: What do you call a zombie with dementia?
A.: A zombie.
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
The blathering idiot and the Pro-Accordion Party returns
The blathering idiot opened his front door. On the other side was Lydia and … and the consultant. The consultant was in front.
“May we come in?” the consultant asked, but was inside before he finished the question.
Lydia followed him in.
“Is your child home today?” the consultant asked.
“Child?”
“Your daughter?”
“I don’t have a daughter.”
“Xenia,” Lydia said.
“She is not my daughter,” the blathering idiot said. “It would be nice if she were, but she is my ex-girlfriend’s daughter.”
Pro-Accordion Party strikes again.
“Oh … that’s most unfortunate,” the consultant said.
“I agree,” the blathering idiot said. He missed Xenia very much. Maybe even more than his ex-girlfriend.
“Can you get another?”
“Another?”
“Daughter.”
“I guess. But I might have to get another girlfriend first. That might take some time.” The blathering idiot had not had a date in … he couldn’t remember. It had been even longer since he had had any intimacy.
“We don’t have time.” The consultant’s high forehead was covered in sweat.
The blathering idiot wondered if it had started raining. He glanced up at his ceiling: no leak.
“Let me try,” Lydia said, stepping forward.
They were all still standing inside the blathering idiot’s front door.
Lydia was as blond and as pretty as the blathering idiot remembered.
“It’s like this,” Lydia said. “The Pro-Accordion Party is gearing up for another run at the highest office in the land. We realized from the last time that one of our biggest mistakes was not starting early enough. My friend here did some polling and he found that a candidate with a daughter polled better than one without a daughter. So we were hoping you would still be interested in running and that your ex-girlfriend’s daughter would be interested in accompanying you.”
“You have a daughter,” the blathering idiot said.
“Yes she does,” the consultant said. “And she could loan her to you for the campaign.”
“My daughter is not fodder for this campaign!” Lydia said.
“We all must make sacrifices,” the consultant said.
“I sacrifice enough for Pro-Accordion Party.”
“My wife told me it was either my career or my marriage … and here I am.” He threw his arms open wide.
“Not my daughter,” Lydia said again. A tear trickled down her cheek.
The consultant put his arm around her. “We’ll talk.” He looked over at the blathering idiot. “If, you’ll excuse us for now.”
The blathering idiot opened the front door and they left.
As they walked down the steps from his porch, the blathering idiot signed and hoped it meant he would see Lydia again. Maybe even for a date.
Filed under blathering idiot, Story by author
Monday morning writing jokes: “Zombies, part 2”
Q.: What is the capital of the United States of Zombies?
A.: Brainerd, Minnesota.
//
Q: What’s the nickname of the United States of Zombies?
A: The Brain Drain.
//
Q.: What do you call a Zombie sink?
A.: A Brain Drain.
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
cARtOONSDAY: “mOTHER, mAY i?”
Maurice struggled to get a grip on his reading.
Filed under cartoon by author, CarToonsday
Booker's Blog 