There was a fly buzzing around a barn one day and unfortunately, the fly crashed into a pile of fresh cow manure. Due to the fact that it had been hours since the fly had had her last meal, she flew down and began to eat. She ate and ate. Finally, she decided she had eaten enough and tried to fly away. She had eaten too much though, and could not get off the ground. As she looked around wondering what to do, she spotted a pitchfork leaning up against the wall. She climbed to the top of the handle and jumped off, thinking that once she got airborne, she would be able to take flight. Unfortunately, she was wrong and she dropped like a rock, and was smashed when she hit the floor. Dead!
ARE YOU READY FOR THE MORAL OF THE STORY?
First a little girl says “The sky is definitely blue”
Teacher says, “Sorry, Amy, but the sky can be gray, or orange…”
Second little boy…”Trees are definitely green”
“Sorry, but in the autumn, the trees are brown.”
Little Johnny from the back of the class stands up and asks:
“Does a fart have lumps?”
The teacher looks horrified and says “Johnny! Of course not!!!”
“OK…then I have DEFINITELY shit in my pants…”
The patient was lying in bed, still groggy from the effects of the recent operation. His doctor came in, looking very glum.
“I can’t be sure what’s wrong with you,” the doctor said. “I think it’s the drinking.”
“Okay,” the patient said. “Can we get an opinion from a doctor who’s sober?”
Do they automatically lose because they can’t find themselves?
He said, “I want you to eat regularly for two days, then skip a day, and repeat this procedure for two weeks. The next time I see you, you should have lost at least five pounds.”
When Mr. Johnson returned; he shocked the doctor by having dropped almost twenty pounds.
“Why, that’s amazing!” the doctor told him. “You did this just by following my instructions?”
The slimmed down Mr. Johnson nodded. “I’ll tell you, though, I thought I was going to drop dead that third day.”
“From hunger, you mean.”
With astonishment in the young boy’s voice, he answered, “I think it’s Eve’s panty!”
Every morning, just after sunrise, Rufus and Clarence would go down to their respective sides of the river and yell at each other. “RUFUS!!” Clarence would shout. “You better thank your lucky stars that I can’t swim . . . or I’d swim this river and whup your butt!!”
“CLARENCE!!” Rufus would holler back, “You better thank YOUR lucky stars that I can’t swim . . . or I’d swim this river and whup your skinny butt!!!”
This went on every morning. Every day. For twenty years.
Rufus thought for a moment. Chewed his bottom lip for another moment. “Woman!” he declared, snapping his suspenders into place. “I’m going to whup Clarence’s butt!!!”
He walked out the door, down to the river, along the riverbank, came to the bridge, stepped up onto the bridge, walked about halfway, looked up….TURNED TAIL AND RAN SCREAMING BACK TO THE HOUSE, SLAMMED THE DOOR, BOLTED THE WINDOWS, GRABBED THE SHOTGUN AND DIVED, PANTING AND GASPING, UNDER THE BED!!!!!
“Rufus!” cried the misses. “I thought you were going to whup Clarence’s butt!!!”
“I was, woman, I was!!” he whispered.
“Rufus!” cried the misses. “What in tarnation is the matter?”
“Well,” muttered the terror-stricken Rufus, “I went to the bridge…I stepped up on the bridge…walked halfway over the bridge…looked up…”
“And?” she asked, breathless with suspense.
“And,” continued Rufus, “I saw a sign that said, “Clearance, 13 feet, 6 inches” He never looked THAT big from the other side of the river!!!!!”