Tag: silly

Ten Foot Pole

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There’s some things people wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.
Which means there’s other things that they will touch with one.
Do you have a ten foot pole?
Well, then come on in. Look around. I have a mighty fine selection of ten foot poles to choose from.
If you don’t have room for one, then maybe you’ll consider a pair of five foot poles that you can connect into a ten foot pole?
Or one of these handy extending poles… folds down into a single foot. Fits in a purse.
You know you need one. Come on in.

The Pie Man – For Soupy Sales

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I never got the humor in someone getting hit in the face with a pie, but the old man on television got hit constantly with pies and people loved him for it.
Every show he was on, you knew from the moment he appeared on camera, he wasn’t going to leave without pie in his face.
Even at his funeral, it was an open casket ceremony, and he was smacked in the face by half a dozen mourners.
Two or three pies get smacked against his headstone every night.
Me, I’m stuck washing them off.
Still nothing funny about it.

Mushrooms

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Deep in the forests of North Umberland, a beam of sunshine falls upon a circle of mushrooms on which the Council Of Elder Faeries sit.
Stroking his long white beard, Gonfall the Elder spoke first. “For our first order of business, can we agree that we need to buy chairs and a conference table?” he said.
The other elves agreed. “These toadstools are always damp,” said Glistensparkle. “Going around with wet spots on our pants sucks.”
“And Pollygoogle is allergic,” mumbled Tinkerwhiskers. “Swells up like a peach.”
The Council moved to adjourn, and they flew off to the furniture store.

The Gumbo

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Cletus won’t tell me what’s in his special gumbo.
He’s scared of people learning his recipe, so not only does he buy his own groceries from the market to make it, he buys extra ingredients to throw anyone off that’s looking through the trash.
He won’t let anyone in the kitchen while he makes it.
He cleans the dishes to keep anyone from using forensic science on them.
The more blue ribbons he earns, the crazier he gets.
“Where did you hide the cameras?” he shrieks, his tinfoil hat askew on his head.
“In the vent,” I think, and smile.

Orangeness

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I woke up early on Sunday.
Jenny’s still asleep.
I should surprise her.
Jenny likes the pumpkin spice pudding. So I dumped the powder into a plastic container, added a cup of milk, and closed the lid.
After a minute of shaking, the orange goo was all over the kitchen.
Jenny had poked holes in the lid for her frog hunting. Can’t keep them in a sealed plastic container without air holes, you know.
She woke up, looked around the kitchen, and said if I wanted to surprise her, I should do a halfway decent job of cleaning the kitchen.

Airport Security

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It’s a long way to the big city and their airport, so we built ourselves an airport right here.
Sure, we don’t own no planes, but them government folks offered up a bunch of money for airport security, so we built us an airport.
All it took was paving up Carter Road long enough to land a plane. Old Man Murphy’s hog farm is what we call a terminal, barn’s the hangar.
The security money pays for a lot of whiskey.
You can find Murphy on the road, yelling at his pigs to clear the runway.
Reckon they’ll ever fly?

Dunk

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Ever since the Chicago Bears dumped a Gatorade jug over Mike Ditka’s head to celebrate their first championship since 1963, it’s been a tradition in football to upend your sports performance drink over your coach to celebrate a victory.
Every so often, a joker will fill the jug with ice so it’s a really cold shower for the winning coach.
It was a cold game in Green Bay that brought on a new twist: a trainer had provided an extra jug of hot chicken soup to warm players during the bone-chilling subzero chill.
The coach was not screaming in joy.

Cloak And Dagger

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All she wore was a cloak and a dagger.
And nothing else.
The CIA Recruiting Officer shook his head and pointed at the door.
“What’s wrong?” the rejected candidate said with a whine.
“It’s not literally cloak-and-dagger,” said the officer. “It’s just a saying.”
“Fine,” she said. She put down the dagger and took off the cloak. “What kind of job can I get with this?”
The officer checked a telephone directory and dialed.
After a few minutes, he smiled and unfolded a map.
“The White House is marked with a red X,” he said. “Ask for Bill. Good luck.”

The Thief

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The thief breaks into your house and steals your dreams while you sleep.
He puts them in a burlap sack and tiptoes through the night.
The fence looks through the sack of dreams.
“Second-rate pipedreams here,” he says.
He always says they’re second-rate to get the price down.
“This one’s shattered,” he says, pointing out the pieces in the bottom of the sack.
They agree on fifty bucks.
The thief doesn’t know what the fence does with the dreams. He’s heard of some guy named Sandman.
The thief doesn’t care. He just steals and sells them.
And dreams of retiring.

Billybob Steak

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It was the biggest steak Paul had seen in his life.
“Eat all of the Billybob Big Steak, and you get it for free,” said the waiter.
“Really?”
“Really.”
So, Paul picked up his fork and knife and went to work.
He didn’t think he could do it, but after an hour there was one bite of steak left.
He put it on his fork, stuck it in his mouth, and swallowed.
“I win!” he said, and the piece of steak caught in his throat.
As hard as the waiter tried, Paul still choked to death.
Billybob catered the funeral.