An old Cajun was celebrating his 92 years on this Earth. Sitting down,
he smiled and spoke to his toes.
“Hello, dere toes!” he said, “how you are toes? You know, you 92 today!
Oh, de times we had! Remember when we walk along de bayou wit all dem
pretty girls every Sunday afternoon? Dem times we deaux-si-deauxed on
de dance floor wit dem same womens? Oh yeah, ahh-heeee! Happy birthday,
toes!”
“Hello dere, knees,” he continued. “How you are, knees? You know you
92 today. Oh, de times we had, huh! Remember when we march in de crawfish
parade? Oh boy, de hurdles we jumped together me and you. Happy
birthday, knees!”
Then, he looked down at his crotch and shook his head. “Hello dere,
Pierre! You little booger you! Did you know, if you was alive today,
you’d be 92?”
One of my fondest memories
As I recall the days of yore
Was the little house, behind the house,
With the crescent o’er the door.
‘Twas a place to sit and ponder
With your head all bowed down low;
Knowing that you wouldn’t be there,
If you didn’t have to go.
Ours was a multi-holer, three,
With a size for every one.
You left there feeling better,
After your job was done.
You had to make those frequent trips
In snow, rain, sleet, or fog–
To that little house where you usually
Found the Eatons catalog.
Oft times in dead of winter,
The seat was spread with snow.
Twas then with much reluctance,
To that little house you’d go.
With a swish you’d clear that wooden seat,
Bend low, with dreadful fear
You’d shut your eyes and grit your teeth
As you settled on your rear.
I recall the day Ol’ Granddad,
Who stayed with us one summer,
Made a trip out to that little house
Which proved to be a bummer.
‘Twas the same day that my Dad had
Finished painting the kitchen green.
He’d just cleaned up the mess he’d made
With rags and gasoline.
He tossed the rags down in the hole
Went on his usual way
Not knowing that by doing so
He’d eventually rue the day.
Now Granddad had an urgent call,
I never will forget!
This trip he made to the little house
Stays in my memory yet.
He sat down on the wooden seat,
With both feet on the floor.
He filled his pipe and tapped it down
And struck a match on the outhouse door.
He lit the pipe and sure enough,
It soon began to glow.
He slowly raised his rear a bit
And tossed the flaming match below.
The Blast that followed, I am told
Was heard for miles around;
And there was poor ol’ Granddad
Sprawled out there on the ground.
The smoldering pipe still in his mouth,
His eyes were shut real tight;
The celebrated three-holer
Was blown clear out of sight.
We asked him what had happened,
What he said I’ll ne’er forget.
He said he thought it must have been
The pinto beans he et!
Next day we had a new one
Dad put it up with ease.
But this one had a door sign
That read: No Smoking, Please
Now that’s the story’s end my friend,
Of memories long ago,
When we went to the house behind the house,
Because we had to go.
For those who never had to trot out in the Cold…..
Just Give Thanks!!!
“With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, “Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?”
A little old lady is walking down the street, dragging two plastic garbage bags with her, one in each hand.
There’s a hole in one of the bags, and every once in a while a $20 bill is flying out of it onto the pavement.
Noticing this, a policeman stops her….”Ma’am, there are $20 bills falling out of that bag…”
“Damn!” says the little old lady…..”I’d better go back and see if I can still find some. Thanks for the warning!”
“Well, now, not so fast,” says the cop. “How did you get all that money?
Did you steal it?”
“Oh, no”, says the little old lady. “You see, my back yard backs up to the parking lot of the football stadium.
Each time there’s a game, a lot of fans come and pee in the bushes, right into my flower beds!”
“So, I go and stand behind the bushes with a big hedge clipper, and each time someone sticks his little thingie through the bushes, I say: $20 or off it comes!”
“Hey, not a bad idea!” laughs the cop. “OK, good luck! By the way, what’s in the other bag?”
“Well”, says the little old lady, “not all of them pay up”….
Mujibar was trying to get a job in India
The Personnel Manager said, “Mujibar, you have passed all the tests, except one. Unless you pass it you cannot qualify for this job.”
Mujibar said, “I am ready”
The manager said, “Make a sentence using the words Yellow, Pink and Green.”
Mujibar thought for a few minutes and said, “Mister manager, I am ready”
The manager said, “Go ahead.”
Mujibar said, “The telephone goes green, green, and I pink it up, and say, ‘Yellow, this is Mujibar.’”
Mujibar now works as a technician at a call center for computer problems.
No doubt you have spoken to him. I know I have.
Each Friday night after work, Bubba would fire up his outdoor grill and cook a venison steak.
But all of Bubba’s neighbors were Catholic….and since it was Lent, they were forbidden from eating meat on Friday.
The delicious aroma from the grilled venison steaks was causing such a problem for the Catholic faithful that they finally talked to their priest. The Priest came to visit Bubba and suggested that he become a Catholic.
After several classes and much study, Bubba attended Mass…..and as the priest sprinkled holy water over him, he said, “You were born a Baptist, and raised a Baptist, but now you are
a Catholic.”
Bubba’s neighbors were greatly relieved, until Friday night arrived, and the wonderful aroma of grilled venison again filled the neighborhood.
The Priest was called immediately by the neighbors and as he rushed into Bubba’s yard clutching a rosary preparing to scold him, he stopped and watched in amazement.
There stood Bubba, clutching a small bottle of holy water which he carefully sprinkled over the grilling meat and chanted:
“You wuz born a deer, you wuz raised a deer, but now you is a catfish.”
