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A middle-aged, bachelor farmer one morning at breakfast begins to have severe chest pains. He decides not to call for an ambulance and that he can drive himself the few miles to the hospital emergency room.

He makes the drive successfully and, when he enters the local hospital emergency room, he tells the nurse behind the desk that he is experiencing intermittent severe chest pain.

 The nurse gets all his insurance information, and his medical and health history, then tells him to sit and wait in the room until his name is called, and then he would be seen by a doctor.

After waiting a long time, the farmer leaves the emergency room, and then comes back an hour later.

The nurse sees him leave and come back and says to him, “The attending doctor is waiting to see you. Why did you leave for an hour?”

The farmer said curtly, “I went and got a haircut.”

“What?” the nurse exclaims. “Why did you decide to do that now? Why didn’t you get a haircut before you came to the ER?” 

The farmer replies, even more cuttingly, “I didn’t need it then.”


One spring evening, a little first-grade grand-daughter gets off the school bus at her grandpa’s farm. She joins her grandpa waiting for her while sitting in his porch swing.

When grandpa asks his grand-daughter what she learned in school that day, she replies, “Well, I started learning arithmetic. And my teacher asked me several questions and I got most of them right.”

Then she added, “I want to play teacher and ask you some arithmetic questions, grandpa. Okay?”

“Fine,” the amused grandpa replied. “Ask away.”

So, the grand-daughter got off the porch swing and stood in front of grandpa and asked, authoritatively. “What is 100 minus 1?”

Grandpa replied, “That’s easy. It’s 99.”

Then the second question: “Grandpa, what’s 4 million plus one?

Grandpa answered, “Four million and one.”

The grand-daughter’s mouth fell open in stunned silence. Then she replied, “Wow, grandpa, you sure do know a lot of arithmetic!”


Okay, might as well back that math story up with another math story.

Son: “I got an F in arithmetic.”

Father: “Why?”

Son: “My teacher asked, ‘How much is 2×3? ‘I said ‘6.'”

Father: “But that’s right!”

Son: “Then she asked me ‘How much is 3×2?'”

Father: “What the heck’s the difference?”

Son: “That’s close to what I said, but I used a more colorful word than ‘heck’ and she gave me an F!”


A cowboy took his young son to a rodeo at a big city arena. It was a “just-us-boys” weekend vacation. The calendar happened to be in the middle of Lent.

While they were sitting in the bleachers waiting for the rodeo to begin, just to make conversation, the cowboy asks his son what he was going to give up for Lent.

The son replied, “I don’t know, Dad. What are you going to give up?”

His father said, “I’ve thought about this a lot and decided to give up liquor.”

Later in the rodeo, the beer man came by, and the cowboy dug deep and ordered a beer.

As the cowboy sat sipping his beer, his son objected, “Hey, I thought you were giving up liquor for Lent!”

Dad answered, “Hard liquor. I’m giving up hard liquor. This is just a beer.”

His son replied with finality, “Well, then, I’ve decided what I’m giving up for Lent. It’s hard candy.”


I read that there’s a big push in the beef cattle industry and the government for all cattle to carry a Radio Frequency Identification (RFID) tags so they can be traced throughout the course of their lives from birth to the meat counter.

I see pros and cons to the issue. But, if RFID tags will trace the movement of millions of cattle all over the United States, then I have but one question:

Would some form of RFID tag help immigration authorities deal with the nation’s border security problem? I ask with my tongue in cheek only slightly.

Ponder this for the week: Global predications gone awry: 1960s — Oil gone in 10 years; 1970s — Another ice age in 10 years; 1980s — Acid rain will destroy all crops in 10 years; 1990s — The ozone layer will be destroyed in 10 years. None of these things happened, but all resulted in more taxes. 

Have a good ‘un


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