Mar 02 2008
Humor.
For a class discussion, a fourth grade teacher decided she would ask her students what their fathers did for a living.
As she went around the class asking each eager nine year old, she couldn’t help but notice little Johnny scrunching down, almost disappearing behind his desk.
The teacher called on Johnny last and he reluctantly said, “If you really must know, my father is a piano player in a whore house.
The teacher hurriedly set the other children to work on some exercises and then took little Johnny aside.
“Is that true what you said about your father?” the teacher asked. “No, Johnny said, Dad works for the Democratic National Committee that got Barack Obama elected, but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the class.”
The following is a funny and true story shared by KC Williams who teaches AP Government at Santa Fe High School. In one of KC’s classes, they were discussing the qualifications to be president of the United States. It was pretty simple.
The candidate must be a natural born citizen of at least 35 years of age.
However, one girl in the class immediately started in on how unfair was the
requirement to be a natural born citizen. In short, her opinion was this requirement prevented many capable individuals from becoming president.
KC and the class were just taking it in and letting her rant, but everyone’s jaw hit the floor when she wrapped up her argument by stating .
“What makes a natural born citizen any more qualified to lead this country than one born by c-section.
And someday she’ll vote!
Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?
BARACK OBAMA: The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a change. The chicken wanted a change!
JOHN MC CAIN: My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the road.
HILLARY CLINTON: When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure — right from Day One! — that every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn’t about me…….
DR. PHIL: The problem we have here is that this chicken won’t realize that he must first deal with the problem on “THIS” side of the road before it goes after the problem on the “OTHER SIDE” of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he’s acting by not taking on his “CURRENT” problems before adding “NEW” problems.
OPRAH: Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I’m going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.
GEORGE W. BUSH: We don’t really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road or not. The chicken is either against us or for us. There is no middle ground here.
COLIN POWELL: Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road…
JOHN KERRY: Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken’s intentions. I am not for it now, and will remain against it.
NANCY GRACE: That chicken crossed the road because he’s GUILTY! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks.
PAT BUCHANAN: To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.
MARTHA STEWART: No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer’s Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.
DR SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I’ve not been told.
ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die in the rain. Alone.
JERRY FALWELL: Because the chicken was gay! Can’t you people see the plain truth? That’s why they call it the “other side.” Yes, my friends that chicken is gay. And if you eat that chicken, you will become gay, too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media white washes with seemingly harmless phrases like “the other side.” That chicken should not be crossing the road. It’s as plain and as simple as that.
GRANDPA: In my day we didn’t ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.
BARBARA WALTERS: Isn’t that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting and went on to accomplish its life long dream of crossing the road.
ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
JOHN LENNON: Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace.
BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken2008, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook. Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken. This new platform is much more stable and will never cra…#@&&^(C% …….. reboot.
ALBERT EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road or did the road move beneath the chicken?
BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with THAT chicken!…… What is your definition of chicken?
COLONEL SANDERS: Did I miss one?
DICK CHENEY: Where’s my gun?
———-
A cowboy named Bud was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture in California when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud towards him.
The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, RayBan sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, ‘If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, Will you give me a calf?’
Bud looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, ‘Sure, Why not?’
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.
The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.
Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-Tech Miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, ‘You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves.’
‘That’s right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves,’ says Bud.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Then Bud says to the young man, ‘Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?’
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, ‘Okay, why not?’
‘You’re a Congressman for the U.S. Government’, says Bud.
‘Wow! That’s correct,’ says the yuppie, ‘but how did you guess that?’
‘No guessing required.’ answered the cowboy. ‘You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don’t know a thing about cows…this is a herd of sheep. . . .
Now give me back my dog.
—————-
While walking down the street one day a US senator is hit by a truck and tragically dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
‘Welcome to heaven,’ says St. Peter. ‘Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.’
‘No problem, just let me in,’ says the man.
‘Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.’
‘Really, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,’ says the senator.
‘I’m sorry, but we have our rules.’
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people.
They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.
Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before he realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises… The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him.
‘Now it’s time to visit heaven.’
So, 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 2 4 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.
‘Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.’
The senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: ‘Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.’
With that St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage.
He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.
The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. ‘I don’t understand,’ stammers the senator. ‘Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable . What happened?’
The devil looks at him, smiles and says, ‘Yesterday we were campaigning…
Today you voted.’
——————————————————————
I have 2 large dogs, and was buying a large bag of Purina at Wal-Mart and was in line to check out. The woman behind me asked if I had a dog.
Duh?
On impulse, I told her no, I was starting The Purina Dog Food Diet again. Although I probably shouldn’t because I’d ended up in the hospital the last time. But I’d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes everywhere and IV’s in both arms.
I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story, particularly a tall guy who was standing behind her.
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me. I told her no, I’d been sitting in the street licking my butt and a car hit me.
I thought the guy standing behind her was going to need help as he staggered to the door laughing.
Back in the 40’s, there was a pilot that came and landed in the pasture and for $2 dollars he would take you up for about 10 minutes. There was a older man that always marveled at this modern contraption so some of the other farmers took up a collection and raised two dollars. They put the old man on the plane and it took off. On his return one of the men said,” John did you enjoy your ride?” The old man said, “Well, I reckon it was OK but i still don’t trust them thangs. I never did all my weight down on it.”