Sunday, December 10, 2006
Saturday, July 08, 2006
JH
The Wisdom of Jack Handey
If I could be a bird, I'd be a Flying Purple People Eater because then people would sing about me and I could fly down and eat them because I hate that song.
Once while walking through the mall a guy came up to me and said "Hey, hows it going?". So I grabbed his arm and twisted it up behind his head and said "Now whose asking the questions?"
I think a pillow should be the peace symbol, not the dove. The pillow has more feathers than the dove, and it doesn't have a beak to peck you with.
Instead of studying for finals, what about just going to the Bahamas and catching some rays? Maybe you'll flunk, but you might have flunked anyway; that's my point.
When I was in the 3rd grade, a bully in school started beating me up every day. At first I didn't say anything, but then I told dad. He got a real scared look on his face and asked if the bully had a big dad. I said I didn't know. But he still seemed scared. And just a few days later we moved to a new town. Dad told me that if anyone picked on me, not to fight back. Unless I knew the kid didn't have a dad or the dad was real small. Otherwise just curl up in a ball.
Too bad Lassie didn't know how to ice skate, because then if she was in Holland on vacation in winter and someone said "Lassie, go skate for help," she could do it.
If you're ever shipwrecked on a tropical island and you don't know how to speak the natives' language, just say "Poppy-oomy." I bet it means something.
One thing vampire children are taught is, never run with a wooden stake.
If you want to be the most popular person in your class, whenever the professor pauses in his lecture, just let out a big snort and say "How do you figger that!" real loud. Then lean back and sort of smirk.
I love to go to the schoolyard and watch the children jump and scream, but they don't know I'm using blanks.
If you work on a lobster boat, sneaking up behind people and pinching them is probably a joke that gets old real fast.
I think college administrators should encourage students to urinate on walls and bushes, because then when students from another college come sniffing around, they'll know this is someone else's territory.
Marta says the interesting thing about fly-fishing is that it's two lives connected by a thin strand. Come on, Marta. Grow up.
Love can sweep you off your feet and carry you along in a way you've never known before. But the ride always ends, and you end up feeling lonely and bitter. Wait. It's not love I'm describing. I'm thinking of a monorail.
When this girl at the art museum asked me whom I liked better, Monet or Manet, I said, "I like mayonnaise." She just stared at me, so I said it again, louder. Then she left. I guess she went to try to find some mayonnaise for me.
Sometimes life seems like a dream, especially when I look down and see that I forgot to put on my pants.
Marta was watching the football game with me when she said, "You know, most of these sports are based on the idea of one group protecting its territory from invasion by another group." "Yeah," I said, trying not to laugh. Girls are funny.
I hate it when people say somebody has a "speech impediment", even if he does, because it could hurt his feelings. So instead, I call it a "speech improvement", and I go up to the guy and say, "Hey, Bob, I like your speech improvement." I think this makes him feel better.
I think my new thing will be to try to be a real happy guy. I'll just walk around being real happy until some jerk says something stupid to me.
Instead of mousetraps, what about baby traps? Not to harm the babies, but just to hold them down until they can be removed?
If you ever drop your keys into a river of molten lava, forget em', cause, man, they're gone.
When Gary told me he had found Jesus, I thought, Yahoo! We're rich! But it turned out to be something different.
Probably the saddest thing you'll ever see is a mosquito sucking on a mummy. Forget it, little friend.
Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you're drunk.
To me, it's a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, "Hey, can you give me a hand?" you can say, "Sorry, got these sacks."
The memories of my family outings are still a source of strength to me. I remember we'd all pile into the car - I forget what kind it was - and drive and drive. I'm not sure where we'd go, but I think there were some trees there. The smell of something was strong in the air as we played whatever sport we played. I remember a bigger, older guy we called "Dad." We'd eat some stuff, or not, and then I think we went home. I guess some things never leave you.
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did."
Contrary to what most people say, the most dangerous animal in the world is not the lion or the tiger or even the elephant. It's a shark riding on an elephant's back, just trampling and eating everything they see.
As we were driving, we saw a sign that said "Watch for Rocks." Marta said it should read "Watch for Pretty Rocks." I told her she should write in her suggestion to the highway department, but she started saying it was a joke - just to get out of writing a simple letter! And I thought I was lazy!
One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said, "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.
Laurie got offended that I used the word "puke." But to me, that's what her dinner tasted like.
I wish a robot would get elected president. That way, when he came to town, we could all take a shot at him and not feel too bad.
Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny.
If you go parachuting, and your parachute doesn't open, and you friends are all watching you fall, I think a funny gag would be to pretend you were swimming.
When I was a kid my favorite relative was Uncle Caveman. After school we'd all go play in his cave, and every once in a while he would eat one of us. It wasn't until later that I found out that Uncle Caveman was a bear.
Children need encouragement. If a kid gets an answer right, tell him it was a lucky guess. That way he develops a good, lucky feeling.
The crows seemed to be calling his name, thought Caw.
Whether they find a life there or not, I think Jupiter should be called an enemy planet.
Instead of trying to build newer and bigger weapons of destruction, we should be thinking about getting more use out of the ones we already have.
I think a good gift for the President would be a chocolate revolver. and since he is so busy, you'd probably have to run up to him real quick and give it to him.
Just because swans mate for life, I don't think its that big a deal. First of all, if you're a swan, you're probably not going to find a swan that looks much better than the one you've got, so why not mate for life?
If you're robbing a bank and you're pants fall down, I think it's okay to laugh and to let the hostages laugh too, because, come on, life is funny.
If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid looking in a mirror, because I bet that will really throw you into a panic.
If they ever come up with a swashbuckling school, I think one of the courses should be laughing, then jumping off something.
At first I thought, if I were Superman, a perfect secret identity would be "Clark Kent, Dentist," because you could save money on tooth X-rays. But then I thought, if a patient said, "How's my back tooth?" and you just looked at it with your X-ray vision and said, "Oh it's okay," then the patient would probably say, "Aren't you going to take an X-ray, stupid?" and you'd say, "Aw forget you, get outta here," and then he probably wouldn't even pay his bill.
When you're riding in a time machine way far into the future, don't stick your elbow out the window, or it'll turn into a fossil.
It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.
A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. "Hear that?" you say. "That's dynamite, baby."
If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a soldering iron. That way, if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like "Hey, look. He's carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everybody would get real quiet and ashamed, because they had made fun of the soldering iron of justice, and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.
I bet when the Neanderthal kids would make a snowman, someone would always end up saying, "Don't forget the thick, heavy brows." Then they would all get embarrassed because they remembered they had the big hunky brows too, and they'd get mad and eat the snowman.
Too bad you can't buy a voodoo globe so that you could make the earth spin real fast and freak everybody out.
The people in the village were real poor, so none of the children had any toys. But this one little boy had gotten an old enema bag and filled it with rocks, and he would go around and whap the other children across the face with it. Man, I think my heart almost broke. Later the boy came up and offered to give me the toy. This was too much! I reached out my hand, but then he ran away. I chased him down and took the enema bag. He cried a little, but that's the way of these people.
I wish I had a Kryptonite cross, because then you could keep both Dracula AND Superman away.
I don't think I'm alone when I say I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system.
Maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself: "Mankind". Basically, it's made up of two separate words - "mank" and "ind". What do these words mean ? It's a mystery, and that's why so is mankind.
I hope if dogs ever take over the world, and they chose a king, they don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.
I bet the main reason the police keep people away from a plane crash is they don't want anybody walking in and lying down in the crash stuff, then, when somebody comes up, act like they just woke up and go, "What was THAT?!"
The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.
Ambition is like a frog sitting on a Venus Flytrap. The flytrap can bite and bite, but it won't bother the frog because it only has little tiny plant teeth. But some other stuff could happen and it could be like ambition.
I'd rather be rich than stupid.
If you were a poor Indian with no weapons, and a bunch of conquistadors came up to you and asked where the gold was, I don't think it would be a good idea to say, "I swallowed it. So sue me."
If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave man, I guess I'm a coward.
I bet one legend that keeps recurring throughout history, in every culture, is the story of Popeye.
When you go in for a job interview, I think a good thing to ask is if they ever press charges.
To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.
What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we'll never know.
We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients. But we can't scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me.
I think someone should have had the decency to tell me the luncheon was free. To make someone run out with potato salad in his hand, pretending he's throwing up, is not what I call hospitality.
As I bit into the nectarine, it had a crisp juiciness about it that was very pleasurable - until I realized it wasn't a nectarine at all, but A HUMAN HEAD!!
Most people don't realize that large pieces of coral, which have been painted brown and attached to the skull by common wood screws, can make a child look like a deer.
If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.
Better not take a dog on the space shuttle, because if he sticks his head out when you're coming home his face might burn up.
You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who make people happy, but inside he's real sad. Also, he has severe diarrhea.
If you ever reach total enlightenment while drinking beer, I bet you could shoot beer out of you nose.
Even though I was their captive, the Indians allowed me quite a bit of freedom. I could walk freely, make my own meals, and even hurl large rocks at their heads. It was only later that I discovered that they were not Indians at all but only dirty-clothes hampers.
I wish outer space guys would conquer the Earth and make people their pets, because I'd like to have one of those little beds with my name on it.
It's true that every time you hear a bell, an angel gets its wings. But what they don't tell you is that every time you hear a mouse trap snap, and Angel gets set on fire.
If you're in a war, instead of throwing a hand grenade at the enemy, throw one of those small pumpkins. Maybe it'll make everyone think how stupid war is, and while they are thinking, you can throw a real grenade at them.
I hope life isn't a big joke, because I don't get it.
The next time I have meat and mashed potatoes, I think I'll put a very large blob of potatoes on my plate with just a little piece of meat. And if someone asks me why I didn't get more meat, I'll just say, "Oh, you mean this?" and pull out a big piece of meat from inside the blob of potatoes, where I've hidden it. Good magic trick, huh?
A funny thing to do is, if you're out hiking and your friend gets bitten by a poisonous snake, tell him you're going to go for help, then go about ten feet and pretend that *you* got bit by a snake. Then start an argument with him about who's going to go get help. A lot of guys will start crying. That's why it makes you feel good when you tell them it was just a joke.
Too bad when I was a kid there wasn't a guy in our class that everybody called the "Cricket Boy", because I would have liked to stand up in class and tell everybody, "You can make fun of the Cricket Boy if you want to, but to me he's just like everybody else." Then everybody would leave the Cricket Boy alone, and I'd invite him over to spend the night at my house, but after about five minutes of that loud chirping I'd have to kick him out. Maybe later we could get up a petition to get the Cricket Family run out of town. Bye, Cricket Boy.
I think a good product would be "Baby Duck Hat". It's a fake baby duck, which you strap on top of your head. Then you go swimming underwater until you find a mommy duck and her babies, and you join them. Then, all of a sudden, you stand up out of the water and roar like Godzilla. Man, those ducks really take off! Also, Baby Duck Hat is good for parties.
I wish I lived back in the old west days, because I'd save up my money for about twenty years so I could buy a solid-gold pick. Then I'd go out West and start digging for gold. When someone came up and asked what I was doing, I'd say, "Looking for gold, ya durn fool." He'd say, "Your pick is gold," and I'd say, "Well, that was easy." Good joke, huh.
If you're a horse, and someone gets on you, and falls off, and then gets right back on you, I think you should buck him off right away.
If you ever teach a yodeling class, probably the hardest thing is to keep the students from just trying to yodel right off. You see, we build to that.
If you ever fall off the Sears Tower, just go real limp, because maybe you'll look like a dummy and people will try to catch you because, hey, free dummy.
I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high notes, I bet you can really see it in those genitals.
Anytime I see something screech across a room and latch onto someone's neck, and the guy screams and tries to get it off, I have to laugh, because what is that thing.
He was a cowboy, mister, and he loved the land. He loved it so much he made a woman out of dirt and married her. But when he kissed her, she disintegrated. Later, at the funeral, when the preacher said, "Dust to dust," some people laughed, and the cowboy shot them. At his hanging, he told the others, "I'll be waiting for you in heaven--with a gun."
I scrambled to the top of the precipice where Nick was waiting. "That was fun," I said. "You bet it was," said Nick. "Let's climb higher." "No," I said. "I think we should be heading back now." "We have time," Nick insisted. I said we didn't, and Nick said we did. We argued back and forth like that for about 20 minutes, then finally decided to head back. I didn't say it was an interesting story.
If you're a Thanksgiving dinner, but you don't like the stuffing or the cranberry sauce or anything else, just pretend like you're eating it, but instead, put it all in your lap and form it into a big mushy ball. Then, later, when you're out back having cigars with the boys, let out a big fake cough and throw the ball to the ground. Then say, "Boy, these are good cigars!"
I remember that one fateful day when Coach took me aside. I knew what was coming. "You don't have to tell me," I said. "I'm off the team, aren't I?" "Well," said Coach, "you never were really ON the team. You made that uniform you're wearing out of rags and towels, and your helmet is a toy space helmet. You show up at practice and then either steal the ball and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times." It was all true what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this Coach. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that's when I felt the handcuffs go on.
If I ever opened a trampoline store, I don't think I'd call it Trampo-Land, because you might think it was a store for tramps, which is not the impression we are trying to convey with our store. On the other hand, we would not prohibit tramps from browsing, or testing the trampolines, unless a tramp's gyrations seemed to be getting out of control.
I can still recall old Mister Barnslow getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of tadpoles to the old board of his. Then he'd spin it round and round, like a wheel of fortune, and no matter where it stopped he'd yell out, "Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!" We all thought he was crazy. But then we had some growing up to do.
I wouldn't be surprised if someday some fishermen caught a big shark and cut it open, and there inside was a whole person. Then they cut the person open, and in him is a little baby shark. And in the baby shark there isn't a person, because it would be too small. But there's a little doll or something, like a Johnny Combat little toy guy---something like that.
Whenever anyone says "I can't," it makes me wish he'd get stung to death by about ten thousand bees. When he says "I'll try," five thousand bees. ("I can," one bee.)
If I could be a bird, I'd be a Flying Purple People Eater because then people would sing about me and I could fly down and eat them because I hate that song.
Once while walking through the mall a guy came up to me and said "Hey, hows it going?". So I grabbed his arm and twisted it up behind his head and said "Now whose asking the questions?"
I think a pillow should be the peace symbol, not the dove. The pillow has more feathers than the dove, and it doesn't have a beak to peck you with.
Instead of studying for finals, what about just going to the Bahamas and catching some rays? Maybe you'll flunk, but you might have flunked anyway; that's my point.
When I was in the 3rd grade, a bully in school started beating me up every day. At first I didn't say anything, but then I told dad. He got a real scared look on his face and asked if the bully had a big dad. I said I didn't know. But he still seemed scared. And just a few days later we moved to a new town. Dad told me that if anyone picked on me, not to fight back. Unless I knew the kid didn't have a dad or the dad was real small. Otherwise just curl up in a ball.
Too bad Lassie didn't know how to ice skate, because then if she was in Holland on vacation in winter and someone said "Lassie, go skate for help," she could do it.
If you're ever shipwrecked on a tropical island and you don't know how to speak the natives' language, just say "Poppy-oomy." I bet it means something.
One thing vampire children are taught is, never run with a wooden stake.
If you want to be the most popular person in your class, whenever the professor pauses in his lecture, just let out a big snort and say "How do you figger that!" real loud. Then lean back and sort of smirk.
I love to go to the schoolyard and watch the children jump and scream, but they don't know I'm using blanks.
If you work on a lobster boat, sneaking up behind people and pinching them is probably a joke that gets old real fast.
I think college administrators should encourage students to urinate on walls and bushes, because then when students from another college come sniffing around, they'll know this is someone else's territory.
Marta says the interesting thing about fly-fishing is that it's two lives connected by a thin strand. Come on, Marta. Grow up.
Love can sweep you off your feet and carry you along in a way you've never known before. But the ride always ends, and you end up feeling lonely and bitter. Wait. It's not love I'm describing. I'm thinking of a monorail.
When this girl at the art museum asked me whom I liked better, Monet or Manet, I said, "I like mayonnaise." She just stared at me, so I said it again, louder. Then she left. I guess she went to try to find some mayonnaise for me.
Sometimes life seems like a dream, especially when I look down and see that I forgot to put on my pants.
Marta was watching the football game with me when she said, "You know, most of these sports are based on the idea of one group protecting its territory from invasion by another group." "Yeah," I said, trying not to laugh. Girls are funny.
I hate it when people say somebody has a "speech impediment", even if he does, because it could hurt his feelings. So instead, I call it a "speech improvement", and I go up to the guy and say, "Hey, Bob, I like your speech improvement." I think this makes him feel better.
I think my new thing will be to try to be a real happy guy. I'll just walk around being real happy until some jerk says something stupid to me.
Instead of mousetraps, what about baby traps? Not to harm the babies, but just to hold them down until they can be removed?
If you ever drop your keys into a river of molten lava, forget em', cause, man, they're gone.
When Gary told me he had found Jesus, I thought, Yahoo! We're rich! But it turned out to be something different.
Probably the saddest thing you'll ever see is a mosquito sucking on a mummy. Forget it, little friend.
Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you're drunk.
To me, it's a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, "Hey, can you give me a hand?" you can say, "Sorry, got these sacks."
The memories of my family outings are still a source of strength to me. I remember we'd all pile into the car - I forget what kind it was - and drive and drive. I'm not sure where we'd go, but I think there were some trees there. The smell of something was strong in the air as we played whatever sport we played. I remember a bigger, older guy we called "Dad." We'd eat some stuff, or not, and then I think we went home. I guess some things never leave you.
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did."
Contrary to what most people say, the most dangerous animal in the world is not the lion or the tiger or even the elephant. It's a shark riding on an elephant's back, just trampling and eating everything they see.
As we were driving, we saw a sign that said "Watch for Rocks." Marta said it should read "Watch for Pretty Rocks." I told her she should write in her suggestion to the highway department, but she started saying it was a joke - just to get out of writing a simple letter! And I thought I was lazy!
One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said, "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.
Laurie got offended that I used the word "puke." But to me, that's what her dinner tasted like.
I wish a robot would get elected president. That way, when he came to town, we could all take a shot at him and not feel too bad.
Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny.
If you go parachuting, and your parachute doesn't open, and you friends are all watching you fall, I think a funny gag would be to pretend you were swimming.
When I was a kid my favorite relative was Uncle Caveman. After school we'd all go play in his cave, and every once in a while he would eat one of us. It wasn't until later that I found out that Uncle Caveman was a bear.
Children need encouragement. If a kid gets an answer right, tell him it was a lucky guess. That way he develops a good, lucky feeling.
The crows seemed to be calling his name, thought Caw.
Whether they find a life there or not, I think Jupiter should be called an enemy planet.
Instead of trying to build newer and bigger weapons of destruction, we should be thinking about getting more use out of the ones we already have.
I think a good gift for the President would be a chocolate revolver. and since he is so busy, you'd probably have to run up to him real quick and give it to him.
Just because swans mate for life, I don't think its that big a deal. First of all, if you're a swan, you're probably not going to find a swan that looks much better than the one you've got, so why not mate for life?
If you're robbing a bank and you're pants fall down, I think it's okay to laugh and to let the hostages laugh too, because, come on, life is funny.
If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid looking in a mirror, because I bet that will really throw you into a panic.
If they ever come up with a swashbuckling school, I think one of the courses should be laughing, then jumping off something.
At first I thought, if I were Superman, a perfect secret identity would be "Clark Kent, Dentist," because you could save money on tooth X-rays. But then I thought, if a patient said, "How's my back tooth?" and you just looked at it with your X-ray vision and said, "Oh it's okay," then the patient would probably say, "Aren't you going to take an X-ray, stupid?" and you'd say, "Aw forget you, get outta here," and then he probably wouldn't even pay his bill.
When you're riding in a time machine way far into the future, don't stick your elbow out the window, or it'll turn into a fossil.
It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.
A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. "Hear that?" you say. "That's dynamite, baby."
If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a soldering iron. That way, if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like "Hey, look. He's carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everybody would get real quiet and ashamed, because they had made fun of the soldering iron of justice, and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.
I bet when the Neanderthal kids would make a snowman, someone would always end up saying, "Don't forget the thick, heavy brows." Then they would all get embarrassed because they remembered they had the big hunky brows too, and they'd get mad and eat the snowman.
Too bad you can't buy a voodoo globe so that you could make the earth spin real fast and freak everybody out.
The people in the village were real poor, so none of the children had any toys. But this one little boy had gotten an old enema bag and filled it with rocks, and he would go around and whap the other children across the face with it. Man, I think my heart almost broke. Later the boy came up and offered to give me the toy. This was too much! I reached out my hand, but then he ran away. I chased him down and took the enema bag. He cried a little, but that's the way of these people.
I wish I had a Kryptonite cross, because then you could keep both Dracula AND Superman away.
I don't think I'm alone when I say I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system.
Maybe in order to understand mankind, we have to look at the word itself: "Mankind". Basically, it's made up of two separate words - "mank" and "ind". What do these words mean ? It's a mystery, and that's why so is mankind.
I hope if dogs ever take over the world, and they chose a king, they don't just go by size, because I bet there are some Chihuahuas with some good ideas.
I bet the main reason the police keep people away from a plane crash is they don't want anybody walking in and lying down in the crash stuff, then, when somebody comes up, act like they just woke up and go, "What was THAT?!"
The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.
Ambition is like a frog sitting on a Venus Flytrap. The flytrap can bite and bite, but it won't bother the frog because it only has little tiny plant teeth. But some other stuff could happen and it could be like ambition.
I'd rather be rich than stupid.
If you were a poor Indian with no weapons, and a bunch of conquistadors came up to you and asked where the gold was, I don't think it would be a good idea to say, "I swallowed it. So sue me."
If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave man, I guess I'm a coward.
I bet one legend that keeps recurring throughout history, in every culture, is the story of Popeye.
When you go in for a job interview, I think a good thing to ask is if they ever press charges.
To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.
What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we'll never know.
We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients. But we can't scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me.
I think someone should have had the decency to tell me the luncheon was free. To make someone run out with potato salad in his hand, pretending he's throwing up, is not what I call hospitality.
As I bit into the nectarine, it had a crisp juiciness about it that was very pleasurable - until I realized it wasn't a nectarine at all, but A HUMAN HEAD!!
Most people don't realize that large pieces of coral, which have been painted brown and attached to the skull by common wood screws, can make a child look like a deer.
If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.
Better not take a dog on the space shuttle, because if he sticks his head out when you're coming home his face might burn up.
You know what would make a good story? Something about a clown who make people happy, but inside he's real sad. Also, he has severe diarrhea.
If you ever reach total enlightenment while drinking beer, I bet you could shoot beer out of you nose.
Even though I was their captive, the Indians allowed me quite a bit of freedom. I could walk freely, make my own meals, and even hurl large rocks at their heads. It was only later that I discovered that they were not Indians at all but only dirty-clothes hampers.
I wish outer space guys would conquer the Earth and make people their pets, because I'd like to have one of those little beds with my name on it.
It's true that every time you hear a bell, an angel gets its wings. But what they don't tell you is that every time you hear a mouse trap snap, and Angel gets set on fire.
If you're in a war, instead of throwing a hand grenade at the enemy, throw one of those small pumpkins. Maybe it'll make everyone think how stupid war is, and while they are thinking, you can throw a real grenade at them.
I hope life isn't a big joke, because I don't get it.
The next time I have meat and mashed potatoes, I think I'll put a very large blob of potatoes on my plate with just a little piece of meat. And if someone asks me why I didn't get more meat, I'll just say, "Oh, you mean this?" and pull out a big piece of meat from inside the blob of potatoes, where I've hidden it. Good magic trick, huh?
A funny thing to do is, if you're out hiking and your friend gets bitten by a poisonous snake, tell him you're going to go for help, then go about ten feet and pretend that *you* got bit by a snake. Then start an argument with him about who's going to go get help. A lot of guys will start crying. That's why it makes you feel good when you tell them it was just a joke.
Too bad when I was a kid there wasn't a guy in our class that everybody called the "Cricket Boy", because I would have liked to stand up in class and tell everybody, "You can make fun of the Cricket Boy if you want to, but to me he's just like everybody else." Then everybody would leave the Cricket Boy alone, and I'd invite him over to spend the night at my house, but after about five minutes of that loud chirping I'd have to kick him out. Maybe later we could get up a petition to get the Cricket Family run out of town. Bye, Cricket Boy.
I think a good product would be "Baby Duck Hat". It's a fake baby duck, which you strap on top of your head. Then you go swimming underwater until you find a mommy duck and her babies, and you join them. Then, all of a sudden, you stand up out of the water and roar like Godzilla. Man, those ducks really take off! Also, Baby Duck Hat is good for parties.
I wish I lived back in the old west days, because I'd save up my money for about twenty years so I could buy a solid-gold pick. Then I'd go out West and start digging for gold. When someone came up and asked what I was doing, I'd say, "Looking for gold, ya durn fool." He'd say, "Your pick is gold," and I'd say, "Well, that was easy." Good joke, huh.
If you're a horse, and someone gets on you, and falls off, and then gets right back on you, I think you should buck him off right away.
If you ever teach a yodeling class, probably the hardest thing is to keep the students from just trying to yodel right off. You see, we build to that.
If you ever fall off the Sears Tower, just go real limp, because maybe you'll look like a dummy and people will try to catch you because, hey, free dummy.
I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high notes, I bet you can really see it in those genitals.
Anytime I see something screech across a room and latch onto someone's neck, and the guy screams and tries to get it off, I have to laugh, because what is that thing.
He was a cowboy, mister, and he loved the land. He loved it so much he made a woman out of dirt and married her. But when he kissed her, she disintegrated. Later, at the funeral, when the preacher said, "Dust to dust," some people laughed, and the cowboy shot them. At his hanging, he told the others, "I'll be waiting for you in heaven--with a gun."
I scrambled to the top of the precipice where Nick was waiting. "That was fun," I said. "You bet it was," said Nick. "Let's climb higher." "No," I said. "I think we should be heading back now." "We have time," Nick insisted. I said we didn't, and Nick said we did. We argued back and forth like that for about 20 minutes, then finally decided to head back. I didn't say it was an interesting story.
If you're a Thanksgiving dinner, but you don't like the stuffing or the cranberry sauce or anything else, just pretend like you're eating it, but instead, put it all in your lap and form it into a big mushy ball. Then, later, when you're out back having cigars with the boys, let out a big fake cough and throw the ball to the ground. Then say, "Boy, these are good cigars!"
I remember that one fateful day when Coach took me aside. I knew what was coming. "You don't have to tell me," I said. "I'm off the team, aren't I?" "Well," said Coach, "you never were really ON the team. You made that uniform you're wearing out of rags and towels, and your helmet is a toy space helmet. You show up at practice and then either steal the ball and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times." It was all true what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this Coach. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that's when I felt the handcuffs go on.
If I ever opened a trampoline store, I don't think I'd call it Trampo-Land, because you might think it was a store for tramps, which is not the impression we are trying to convey with our store. On the other hand, we would not prohibit tramps from browsing, or testing the trampolines, unless a tramp's gyrations seemed to be getting out of control.
I can still recall old Mister Barnslow getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of tadpoles to the old board of his. Then he'd spin it round and round, like a wheel of fortune, and no matter where it stopped he'd yell out, "Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!" We all thought he was crazy. But then we had some growing up to do.
I wouldn't be surprised if someday some fishermen caught a big shark and cut it open, and there inside was a whole person. Then they cut the person open, and in him is a little baby shark. And in the baby shark there isn't a person, because it would be too small. But there's a little doll or something, like a Johnny Combat little toy guy---something like that.
Whenever anyone says "I can't," it makes me wish he'd get stung to death by about ten thousand bees. When he says "I'll try," five thousand bees. ("I can," one bee.)
A Srory Of Mud And Mud Backwards
Hello Friends.
Being there I must interject just a little. It's a story of the mud and a boy named Tommy. Many years ago, myself and some guys named Curieye, Bubba L and Domino (sorry about those sunglasses by the way) decided to take to a day on the CT river. I myself being so large decided to hog all of the ski and knee board time myself, it must have been at least 6 hours straight on the water, I was wasted. Needless to say my massive pythons and thick thighs were k'd. Curieye decided to moor the boat about a half mile out from the beach and said "lets swim to shore" cause being from the east coast we call it the shore. Anyway to make a short story even longer, about a half mile into it, my pythons being as tiered as they were wanted to quit. I couldn't go any further, I decided my destiny was to die right there in the CT river. I was done, I was ready to meet my maker. My life flashed before my eyes. Then lo and behold a young lad out of nowhere said " yo Fred G with your pythons so large, jump into my blow up raft and I shall get you to shore safely". Not to let the young lad down I jumped in and he got me to the shore with some cold berf waiting, safely no less. Well today was a day that brought me back to the day that a young man named Tommy saved me from certain death. I was the man stuck in the quicksand like mud up to my waist today. My long time hunting buddy, companion, my bffe, came back to save his friend because we are a hunting team. HOY7HT is what we call ourselves. He risked his own life to save me from drowning in a mud puddle. After hours of risking uncertain death himself he and myself were able to free myself from the python choking like mud, the more I struggled the more it sucked me down to certain death. After freeing myself we sat and tried to drink some whiskey, we couldn't even, thats how bad it was....you know the whole story now, I just wanted to make sure the MAN named BUBBA got his props, you too TOMMY. I LOVE YOU GUYS....I'm not afraid to say it, I love two men. I'm here because of you twos.
Thanks.
God Bless
Fred G
Being there I must interject just a little. It's a story of the mud and a boy named Tommy. Many years ago, myself and some guys named Curieye, Bubba L and Domino (sorry about those sunglasses by the way) decided to take to a day on the CT river. I myself being so large decided to hog all of the ski and knee board time myself, it must have been at least 6 hours straight on the water, I was wasted. Needless to say my massive pythons and thick thighs were k'd. Curieye decided to moor the boat about a half mile out from the beach and said "lets swim to shore" cause being from the east coast we call it the shore. Anyway to make a short story even longer, about a half mile into it, my pythons being as tiered as they were wanted to quit. I couldn't go any further, I decided my destiny was to die right there in the CT river. I was done, I was ready to meet my maker. My life flashed before my eyes. Then lo and behold a young lad out of nowhere said " yo Fred G with your pythons so large, jump into my blow up raft and I shall get you to shore safely". Not to let the young lad down I jumped in and he got me to the shore with some cold berf waiting, safely no less. Well today was a day that brought me back to the day that a young man named Tommy saved me from certain death. I was the man stuck in the quicksand like mud up to my waist today. My long time hunting buddy, companion, my bffe, came back to save his friend because we are a hunting team. HOY7HT is what we call ourselves. He risked his own life to save me from drowning in a mud puddle. After hours of risking uncertain death himself he and myself were able to free myself from the python choking like mud, the more I struggled the more it sucked me down to certain death. After freeing myself we sat and tried to drink some whiskey, we couldn't even, thats how bad it was....you know the whole story now, I just wanted to make sure the MAN named BUBBA got his props, you too TOMMY. I LOVE YOU GUYS....I'm not afraid to say it, I love two men. I'm here because of you twos.
Thanks.
God Bless
Fred G
Journal of 2005-2006 Day 1
Journal of 2005 - 2006 Duck season.
Day 1.
4:00 am.
Woke up this morning with the promise of a wonderfull begining to the new season. Overcast and a little chilly, not a bad day for this early.
5:00 am.
Picked up Fred with enough time to get to Sauvies Island and get in line for the lottery to pick the best blinds for the day. Fred does a great job of picking a low number and we go to the warden to try a new spot.
5:35 am.
Warden informs us that Fred has brought the wrong licence. Although he's already purchaced the correct one, it's back at his house. (25 min away)
6:30 am.
After a visit to the lacal 7-11 to try to buy another licence, (the machine was broken) we're back at Freds to get the right licence. Resist urge to leave him there as we are a team after all.
7:25 am.
We are now all set up at the old shitty Lewis and Clark spot of previous years. Conversation resumes.
7:30 am to 2:30 pm.
Wait for ducks.
2:31 pm.
Go home. Well there you have it. The first day of the season and we are off to a roiusing start. Fortunately for us lessons were learned and today (wed) was much better. Fred shot the first Greenie of the year and made a cool $10 in the process. I missed 8 ducks 5 times because I'm sure my gun is bent or something, not to worry, I'll be getting a new gun soon and all my problems will be solved. Remember it's allways the arrow, not the Indian. Speaking of new guns I've been lusting over the new Benelli nova pump shotgun for almost a year now. Finally I've got the many layers of approval I need to get one and I'm very excited. I should be able to pick it up next Sunday. Then, this morning, my best pal shows up with the Benelli Super Black Eagle semi auto full crumbler. He even let me hold it. Hey, what are best friends for. That's it for this installment of the new season of hunting. Maybe in the future we will have some photos to go with the text.
Hope you enjoyed it.
God bless Charlton Heston.
Day 1.
4:00 am.
Woke up this morning with the promise of a wonderfull begining to the new season. Overcast and a little chilly, not a bad day for this early.
5:00 am.
Picked up Fred with enough time to get to Sauvies Island and get in line for the lottery to pick the best blinds for the day. Fred does a great job of picking a low number and we go to the warden to try a new spot.
5:35 am.
Warden informs us that Fred has brought the wrong licence. Although he's already purchaced the correct one, it's back at his house. (25 min away)
6:30 am.
After a visit to the lacal 7-11 to try to buy another licence, (the machine was broken) we're back at Freds to get the right licence. Resist urge to leave him there as we are a team after all.
7:25 am.
We are now all set up at the old shitty Lewis and Clark spot of previous years. Conversation resumes.
7:30 am to 2:30 pm.
Wait for ducks.
2:31 pm.
Go home. Well there you have it. The first day of the season and we are off to a roiusing start. Fortunately for us lessons were learned and today (wed) was much better. Fred shot the first Greenie of the year and made a cool $10 in the process. I missed 8 ducks 5 times because I'm sure my gun is bent or something, not to worry, I'll be getting a new gun soon and all my problems will be solved. Remember it's allways the arrow, not the Indian. Speaking of new guns I've been lusting over the new Benelli nova pump shotgun for almost a year now. Finally I've got the many layers of approval I need to get one and I'm very excited. I should be able to pick it up next Sunday. Then, this morning, my best pal shows up with the Benelli Super Black Eagle semi auto full crumbler. He even let me hold it. Hey, what are best friends for. That's it for this installment of the new season of hunting. Maybe in the future we will have some photos to go with the text.
Hope you enjoyed it.
God bless Charlton Heston.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
2005-2006 Storys
Hello People Fred G here.
Day 16: Killing for the King (cause thats what he would have wanted)Ya folks it true, just like your True Value Hardware store, It was like a dream today, like a wet dream, floatin down the jet stream. What the HOY7HT endures you will never know, or understand. Until you walk a mile in Andys waiters with the felt bottom soles in the mud you just won't understand what we go through. Ya we woke up this morning at 4:30 in the am people, to drive 30 minutes, Bob actually had to drive 45 minutes, napped in a truck by the highway, in the rain, with trains going by for godsake man. Were we going to get the limit today for the King? yes of course we were. I got my limit of coffee from Di at Sherries, no I don't want anymore fucking coffee! and Bob got his limit of flap-jacks. Two other things we endure for you people, and for why? so that we may bring you some stories and a little enjoyment to you peoples sheltered lives. I'm not Fucking Charles Kuralt here people, My name is Fred, Fred G, I'm but a simple man that graduated from Cheshire High School, time for timings, telling our story, our story of the HOY7HT, and would a little "Thanks for the Memories" fucking hurt anyone of you guys? You know it may be day 16 but it's not over, cause was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Well it's not over now. We have two solid days of hunting and I'm confident Bubba will rise to the occasion and pull himself out of the basement with at least, AT LEAST one more kill, cause thats what the King would have wanted.
God bless America.
Word.
Fred G
Bob here,
Well day sixteen was an interesting one to say the least. We learnedsomething last week, the water is really really high right now. Because ofthis we decided to go to the 'old new' spot as it is a high and dry walk inand sits on a more calm part of the great Columbia River. Not only are wethe best hunters, we are also the smartest. Fred decided it would be a goodidea to take a precursory walk out to see what we were dealing with beforeputting on the big packs. About 30 seconds in we were stymied by....everyone now...... Water.Needless to say we had to contemplate our next move. Throw out deeks herenext to the highway? Push further in through deep water to another spot?Consider another spot altogether? What would the great Dr. King do in ourposition? Back at the truck we weighed our options the way all greatthinkers do, by taking a nap. Some time passed and as the shooting timeneared and the rain came down harder we decided there was only one correctoption. After a tasty breakfast at Sheris by the truck stop we headed back to the relative safety, but non-killing zone, of our respective homes. I personally slept well and did not dream of killing ducks. Perhaps I will rent a video of people folding ducks and imagine myself there. I'm fairly sure Fred also returned to dream land and my now be watching a OLN hunting show where he is the star.Now don't you worry. There is still time to up the teams fold count nextweek. We promise to have another thrilling, edge of your seat account ofall the action right here in the journal. Remember when viewing theattached pictures that both of these spots are completely underwater now.Likely 12 to 14 feet under. Water, water, water.
God Bless Charlton Heston.
P.S. If we had the duck boat we could have folded our bag limit today.
What the heck is taking so long people?
Bob here,
Well day fourteen has been an eventful one. We can use one word to describe the day Water, Water, Water. Of course that was three words but they apply. The team was glad to have the reining duck kill leader in our midst, Andy. We thought that he would bring with him the opportunity to increase all our totals just by association. It's not often we have a cold blooded folding machine like him around to show us how the job is done. Another member, John "I'll miss Brett Farve" Verhage, baled on his chance to hunt the big waters of the mighty Columbia River. But as we all know, three is a magic number. We hope the sand gets out of 'there' for you John. After an early start, in which I was able to sleep an extra half hour, we hit the road to the 'old spot' hoping for some great post 2005 Pacific Flyway killin'. On the walk down we were filled with anticipation of a great day. There was alittle rain and some wind but nothing prepared us for what we would find. The water on the river was at higher levels that ever before. We're talking 12 feet above normal high water. We here in the Pacific Northwest have been getting normal rain but with temps above normal there is no snow falling in the mid elevations. All that rain equals big water. We had to take the route described in the last update through the pricker bushes and down the slope of death, but right at the bottom, water. Now I know what you are thinking, water good. No my friends, water bad. It was so high that we were unable to set the decoys far enough out to be seen and forget about retrieval. We gave it the old College try but still the results were only water. Now Andy was the first casualty to the water. He got a rip in his waders and the water attacked his foot. Fred fell in up to his shoulders and got the ole' wet wader willie. As we were pulling up I slung my pack over my shoulders and fell over a log back first and below water level. Like I said, Water, Water, Water. The walk back to the truck was a wet one but we learned something that day. The North unit of Sauvies may not be bad right now. (Sorry Steve) Then we learned something else, Andy lied to us. No water in his waders. Hope the sand gets out of yours too.
God Bless Charlton
Day 16: Killing for the King (cause thats what he would have wanted)Ya folks it true, just like your True Value Hardware store, It was like a dream today, like a wet dream, floatin down the jet stream. What the HOY7HT endures you will never know, or understand. Until you walk a mile in Andys waiters with the felt bottom soles in the mud you just won't understand what we go through. Ya we woke up this morning at 4:30 in the am people, to drive 30 minutes, Bob actually had to drive 45 minutes, napped in a truck by the highway, in the rain, with trains going by for godsake man. Were we going to get the limit today for the King? yes of course we were. I got my limit of coffee from Di at Sherries, no I don't want anymore fucking coffee! and Bob got his limit of flap-jacks. Two other things we endure for you people, and for why? so that we may bring you some stories and a little enjoyment to you peoples sheltered lives. I'm not Fucking Charles Kuralt here people, My name is Fred, Fred G, I'm but a simple man that graduated from Cheshire High School, time for timings, telling our story, our story of the HOY7HT, and would a little "Thanks for the Memories" fucking hurt anyone of you guys? You know it may be day 16 but it's not over, cause was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Well it's not over now. We have two solid days of hunting and I'm confident Bubba will rise to the occasion and pull himself out of the basement with at least, AT LEAST one more kill, cause thats what the King would have wanted.
God bless America.
Word.
Fred G
Bob here,
Well day sixteen was an interesting one to say the least. We learnedsomething last week, the water is really really high right now. Because ofthis we decided to go to the 'old new' spot as it is a high and dry walk inand sits on a more calm part of the great Columbia River. Not only are wethe best hunters, we are also the smartest. Fred decided it would be a goodidea to take a precursory walk out to see what we were dealing with beforeputting on the big packs. About 30 seconds in we were stymied by....everyone now...... Water.Needless to say we had to contemplate our next move. Throw out deeks herenext to the highway? Push further in through deep water to another spot?Consider another spot altogether? What would the great Dr. King do in ourposition? Back at the truck we weighed our options the way all greatthinkers do, by taking a nap. Some time passed and as the shooting timeneared and the rain came down harder we decided there was only one correctoption. After a tasty breakfast at Sheris by the truck stop we headed back to the relative safety, but non-killing zone, of our respective homes. I personally slept well and did not dream of killing ducks. Perhaps I will rent a video of people folding ducks and imagine myself there. I'm fairly sure Fred also returned to dream land and my now be watching a OLN hunting show where he is the star.Now don't you worry. There is still time to up the teams fold count nextweek. We promise to have another thrilling, edge of your seat account ofall the action right here in the journal. Remember when viewing theattached pictures that both of these spots are completely underwater now.Likely 12 to 14 feet under. Water, water, water.
God Bless Charlton Heston.
P.S. If we had the duck boat we could have folded our bag limit today.
What the heck is taking so long people?
Bob here,
Well day fourteen has been an eventful one. We can use one word to describe the day Water, Water, Water. Of course that was three words but they apply. The team was glad to have the reining duck kill leader in our midst, Andy. We thought that he would bring with him the opportunity to increase all our totals just by association. It's not often we have a cold blooded folding machine like him around to show us how the job is done. Another member, John "I'll miss Brett Farve" Verhage, baled on his chance to hunt the big waters of the mighty Columbia River. But as we all know, three is a magic number. We hope the sand gets out of 'there' for you John. After an early start, in which I was able to sleep an extra half hour, we hit the road to the 'old spot' hoping for some great post 2005 Pacific Flyway killin'. On the walk down we were filled with anticipation of a great day. There was alittle rain and some wind but nothing prepared us for what we would find. The water on the river was at higher levels that ever before. We're talking 12 feet above normal high water. We here in the Pacific Northwest have been getting normal rain but with temps above normal there is no snow falling in the mid elevations. All that rain equals big water. We had to take the route described in the last update through the pricker bushes and down the slope of death, but right at the bottom, water. Now I know what you are thinking, water good. No my friends, water bad. It was so high that we were unable to set the decoys far enough out to be seen and forget about retrieval. We gave it the old College try but still the results were only water. Now Andy was the first casualty to the water. He got a rip in his waders and the water attacked his foot. Fred fell in up to his shoulders and got the ole' wet wader willie. As we were pulling up I slung my pack over my shoulders and fell over a log back first and below water level. Like I said, Water, Water, Water. The walk back to the truck was a wet one but we learned something that day. The North unit of Sauvies may not be bad right now. (Sorry Steve) Then we learned something else, Andy lied to us. No water in his waders. Hope the sand gets out of yours too.
God Bless Charlton
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