My left knee is a wreck. The surgeons cannot decide how best to repair it. So, delaying action, they take more X-rays.
I think they hope the radiation will cause a cancer that necessitates amputation. It would be so much easier to build a metal leg than repair this one.
Hiring a midget and giving him a samurai sword, however, was taking things too far.
The insurance company disagreed. In fact, hiring sword-waving midgets is covered by Medicare Plan A.
“Just try not to bend down,” says a surgeon. “He might try to chop off your head, despite the contract.”
Tag: commentary
Shambles
Y’all there in New York City may be having troubles, but here in Shambles, Oklahoma, things ain’t too bad, really.
School’s doin’ good.
Church is full every Sunday.
Business is business, I reckon.
“Your Life Is In Shambles!” is the motto of the Shambles Picayune and that always gets a laugh out at the barbershop.
You might ask yourself how we be doin’ so good?
Well, that rope around your neck and this here pentagram on the floor is part of the answer.
The rest, well, you can ask Satan when we sacrifice your soul to him in a minute.
St. Pancake Day
Remember that crazy chick who got run over by a bulldozer in Gaza?
Truth is, she was one of those “late bloomer” girls.
Any bra she owned before she turned twenty was just wishful thinking.
She tried special diets, exercises, and even some weird gels and extracts she got from mail order catalogs.
None of them worked. Not even the hormones that transexuals use as part of their reassignment surgery.
Then one day, she woke up, and she had breasts.
Big ones.
“I’m not flat anymore!” she shouted.
Later that day, she went out to face the bulldozers.
Ironic, yes?
Bodyguard
Many years ago I was rich, but how I got rich did not sit well with those I got rich off of, so I hired a bodyguard.
My bodyguard turned out to be one of the people I had gotten rich off of, so I hired a bodyguard to protect me from my bodyguard.
But that bodyguard had gotten rich off of my original bodyguard, so he was loyal to that man and not me, so I hired another bodyguard.
All these bodyguards bankrupted me.
My former bodyguard, who had gotten rich off of me, hired me… as a bodyguard.
That Pumpkin
Back in college, we had pumpkin carving contests.
All of the pumpkins were sent to the children’s ward of a nearby hospital.
Well, almost all.
Everybody else made your typical not-very-scary faces and outlines of flying witches.
I made a screaming face and stuck a saw through the top.
Then I mixed ketchup and quickdrying paint to add the effect of dripping blood.
“Don’t you know this is for kids in the hospital?” they asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Wait… it’s not a mental hospital?”
Oops. My mistake.
Really, I figured the saw could be handy for cutting through the bars.
Bananas will protect you
Every morning, I grab a banana from the kitchen and head to work.
The banana is there to protect me.
From what?
I have no willpower. I cannot resist the breakfast shops along the way to work.
But the moment I catch the smell: donuts… kolaches… breakfast tacos…
I peel the banana and take a bite.
Instead of being tempted by the unhealthy fare, I eat my banana and make it into work.
As I toss the peel into the trash, I look up and see…
Someone brought in a box of donuts.
(That’s when I pull out my sledgehammer.)
The Jobs Report
We all wait outside The Department of Labor, waiting for The Jobs Report.
A small man in a suit walks outside, steps up to the podium, and removes a manilla folder from his briefcase.
He takes off his glasses, wipes them with a handkerchief, and puts them back on.
The crowd is silent as he opens the folder, looks through the documents inside, and selects a single sheet.
He cleans his glasses again, puts them back on, and reads The Jobs Report:
“One,” he says. “Mine.”
He breathes a sigh of relief, looks around, and runs back inside the building.
The Imaginary Volcano
Remember that volcano in Iceland that erupted last year and disrupted travel for weeks?
Which volcano?
Well, um…
I can’t pronounce the name.
And that’s what I wanted to talk about.
Nobody talked about it before it erupted, but when it did, people talked about it all the time.
Just because the name was unpronounceable, it didn’t mean they didn’t talk about it.
They just called it “That Icelandic volcano” over there.
So changing your name to something unpronounceable won’t keep you out of the press.
Or off of wanted posters.
Let’s just wear masks when we rob banks, okay?
The Lost Ring
I’ve lost so much weight, my ring slipped off the other day.
I searched along the path I took, but couldn’t find it.
When I first got the ring, I felt its presence, but quickly got used to it.
Now that it’s gone, I constantly notice that it’s not there.
It’s an uncomfortable feeling, and I want to put it back on, but it’s gone.
So I will get a new one soon.
My wife was deathly ill last year.
Would I have had to remove the ring if she hadn’t have recovered?
I’d have kept it.
For remembrance.
(Right?)
Can you keep a secret?
Can you keep a secret?
I can’t.
That’s why whenever someone says they want to tell me a secret, I stick my fingers in my years and jump up and down, shouting I CAN’T HEAR YOU!
This makes things difficult at work. I work for the government.
Well, used to.
Because they say I can’t keep a secret.
Sure, I say I can’t, but then, I’ve never given any away.
That’s what my lawyer says. He says I have a good case.
The government wants to settle out of court.
If we keep the terms of the settlement a secret.