Laugh Tracks in the Dust 8-24-09
Praise be for e-mail jokes and good friends who send them to me. This past week wuz a very productive one. Here’s a funny that I liked a lot.
The Methodists at a rural church hired a new minister, fresh out of seminary and determined to win over every wayward soul in his new community. The first week he wuz driving around looking for lost souls and came upon a farmer cultivating a crop.
So, when the farmer neared the gravel road, the new preacher climbed through the dusty weeds, snagged his pants on the barbed wire fence, and flagged down the farmer on his tractor.
The preacher asked the man, “Are you laboring in the vineyard of the Lord today, my good man?”
Giving a scowl to the preacher, the farmer replied, “Nope, these are soybeans.”
“You don’t understand,” the preacher persisted. “Are you a Christian?”
With the same amount of disinterest as his previous answer, the farmer growled, “Nope. My name is Smyth. You must be looking for Homer Christian. He lives a mile north of here.”
Not to be defeated at his first attempt at soul-winning, the determined young preacher tried again, asking the farmer, “Are you lost?”
“Naw! I’ve lived here all my life,” answered the farmer curtly.
“Well, then, are you prepared for the resurrection?” the frustrated preacher concluded.
This caught the farmer’s attention and he asked, “When’s it gonna be?”
Thinking he had accomplished something, the young preacher replied, “It could be today, tomorrow, or the next day. But, it’s coming for sure.”
Taking a handkerchief from his back pocket and mopping his brow, the farmer remarked, “Well, don’t mention it to my wife. She don’t get out much and she’ll wanna go all three days.”
Here’s another that’s appropriate for the watermelon season.
A farmer, Hugh G. Vines, raised a nice watermelon patch, but after one morning’s inspection, he discovered that some of the local kids have been helping themselves to a watermelon feast at his expense.
Hugh thinks of a way to discourage this profit-eating situation. So he put up a sign that read: “Warning! I’ve laced one of these watermelons with deadly cyanide. Eat at your own risk.”
He smiled smugly as he watched the kids run off the next night without eating any of his melons.
Alas, however, when Hugh returned to the watermelon patch the next day to harvest melons to sell at the local farmer’s market, he sadly discovered a second sign next to his that read: “Now there are two cyanide melons! Enjoy!”
Years ago a farmer’s son was returning to the family’s farm from town hauling horseback a small crate of chickens that his father had purchased that day.
All of a sudden, while still at the edge of town, the horse shied and the chicken crate fell and broke open. Chickens scurried off in every directions.
Fearing his father’s wrath, the determined boy walked all over that side of town scooping up wayward birds and returning them to the repaired crate.
Hoping he had found them all, the boy reluctantly returned home. Expecting the worst, he confessed, “Pa, the chickens got loose. But, I managed to find all 12 of them.”
“Well, you did real good, son,” his dad beamed. “I only bought eight.”
And, even a couple of one-liners to top off the week.
A farmer named his cow “Magician” because she was always turning into a pasture.
Another farmer named his pig “Ink” because it was always running out of his pen.
A rancher went bankrupt, but he never complained about it because he ain’t got no beef.
I’ll close now so you won’t think I’m mentally bankrupt. For this week, I’ll end with these patriotic words from Founding Father Alexander Hamilton: “Those who stand for nothing fall for anything … In framing a government, which is to be administered by men over men, the great difficulty lies in this: You must first enable the government to control the governed, and in the next place, oblige it to control itself … In the main it will be found that a power over a man’s support (salary) is a power over his will.”
It would be nice if our current elected legislators read and believed some of the wise words of our Founding Fathers, wouldn’t it?
Don’t melt in the August heat. Have a good ‘un.
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