Son of 'Best of Sick Jokes'

Back by popular demand -

Some of these you may already know if you are a Facebook friend - and friends, the pickings are getting pretty slim, but there is still gold in that book.

And some that just aren't funny at all - as in,
"Where are you going?"
"Out."
"Where?"
"None of your damn business."

... after all these years I'm still scratching my head over that one.

But here's a few keepers -

"Daddy, there was a man here to see you today?"
"With a bill?"
"Nope. Just an ordinary nose like yours."

"Dad, is 'Rotterdam' a bad word?"
"Why no, son."
"Good. My teacher has poison ivy and I hope it'll rotterdam arm off."

"Are you the Widow Miffin?"
"I'm Mrs. Miffin, but I'm not a widow."
"Oh no? Just wait till you see what they're carrying up the stairs."

"Mrs. Jones! Your husband has been killed. Run over by a steam-roller."
"I'm in the tub. Can you slip him under the door?"

He had been bitten by a dog but didn't give it a second thought until he realized the wound was taking a long time to heal.
On visiting the doctor, he found out he had rabies. Since it was too late to give him the serum, the doctor tried to comfort him and prepare him for the worst as the patient sat down and began to write.
"Perhaps it won't be so bad. You needn't make out your will right now."
"I'm not making out my will," replied the man. "I'm making a list of the people I'm going to bite."

The mad scientist looked over the reports of his life-preserving tonic.
"Hmmm," he mused," I see where my elixir had its first failure - a 98-year-old woman. Ahhh, but what's this? They saved the baby."

The firing squad was escorting the prisoner to his place of execution. It was a dismal march in a pouring rain.
"What a terrible morning to die," sighed the condemned man.
"What are you kicking about?" asked the guard. "We gotta march back in it."

"Now, tell the jury the truth - why did you shoot your husband with a bow and arrow?"
"I didn't want to wake the children."

"How do you know your father's dead?"
"He doesn't move when I kick him."

Farmer Thomas' barn had just burned to the ground and the insurance agent was trying to explain that he couldn't collect cash for it.
"Read the policy. All our company can do is replace it with another barn exactly like the one that was destroyed."
Farmer Thomas was enraged - "Well if that's the way you varmints do business, cancel the policy on my wife before it's too late!"

"The editor hanged himself a few minutes ago."
"Have they cut him down?"
"Not yet. He isn't dead."

A man was studying the menu at a roadside diner.
"What's the difference between the blue-plate special and the white-plate special?" he asked the waiter.
"The white-plate special is ten cents extra," explained the waiter.
"Is the food any better?"
"No, but we wash the plates."

"If you fall off that rock and break your leg, don't come running to me."

Sunday school teacher - "Now children, if I saw a man beating a donkey and stopped him, what virtue would I be showing?"
Sheldon - "Brotherly love."

A forest ranger in New Mexico frequently saw an Indian riding his horse up the canyon wall, his squaw trudging along behind him.
"Why is it," the ranger asked one day, "that you always ride and your wife walks?"
"Because," was the solemn reply, "she no gottum horse."

"Sheldon!" called Mama. "Are you spitting in the fish-bowl?"
"No, ma. But I'm getting closer every time!"

"How'd you blow that tire?"
"Ran over a milk bottle."
"Didn't you see it?"
"Damn kid had it under his coat."

Friend at a funeral - "It must be hard to lose a wife."
The bereaved husband - "Almost impossible."

Mangled pedestrian - "What's the matter - are you blind?!"
Motorist - "Blind? I hit ya, didn't I?"

Drunk - "Awww, lemme alone. Nobody cares if I drink myself to death."
Host - "I do. You're using my liquor."

"Aren't you the brave young man who tried to save my son from drowning when he broke through the ice?"
"Yes'm."
"Well, what did you do with his mittens?"

"You get the liscense plate number of the woman who hit you?"
"No, but I'd recognize that laugh anywhere."

"Gosh Dad, was that Ted Williams who just hit the home-run?"
"What do you care, Sheldon? You're blind."

"Mommy, why do I only walk in circles?"
"Shut up, or I'll nail your other foot to the floor."

"Hey kid, what happened to your hand?"
"Sawed the tip of my finger off."
"How'd you do that?"
"Sawing."

The foreman of the lumber camp put a new worker on the circular saw. As he turned away, he heard the man say, "Ouch."
"What happened?"
"Dunno," replied the man. "I just stuck out my hand like this, and - well, I'll be damned. There goes another one!"

... Dear Reader - getting close to the bottom of the barrel here, but fear not - there will be more.

Your Morning Chuckle

This post is dedicated to my friend Al - who apparently is in need of a good laugh.

I bought this paperback many years ago, around 1970 back in Grade nine and remember how popular it was the day I took it to school. Damn lucky I even got it back or didn't have it confiscated by one of the teachers for all the impromptu bursts of laughter it caused when passed around in class.

The title is a bit misleading. There are some 'sick' jokes in here. Pretty insensitive stuff which would surely be considered 'incorrect' today. Judge for yourself -

"Mrs. Jones, can Johnny come out and play?"
"No, you children know he has leprosy."
"Then can we come in and watch him rot?"

"Mrs. Smith, can Sheldon come out and play ball with us?"
"No. You children know he has no arms or legs."
"That's okay. We want to use him for second base."

... and then there's a few about people who have to use iron lungs.

But the best are the ones that are just totally stupid. So dumb that in the right frame of mind they can reduce a sane man to a giggling fit. Here are some of the best - but the last one is my favorite. Now, don't cheat and scroll down - comedy is best savoured when you save the best for last.

"Doctor, my husband limps because his right leg is shorter than his left. What would you do in his case?"
"Probably limp."

A woman driver ran over a cripple crossing the street. Horrified, she stopped and called: "Oh dear. What can I do to help?"
"Just don't back up."

"Doctor! Doctor! Come quickly! My husband has swallowed a mouse!"
"Wave a piece of cheese in front of his mouth. I'll be right over."
The doctor arrives 15 minutes later.
"Why, you stupid woman! Why are you waving a herring in front of his mouth?"
"Now I've got to get the cat out, first."

"What happened to your hand, kid?"
"I sawed the top of my finger off."
"Dear, dear. How did you do that?"
"Sawing."

Teacher - "George Washington not only chopped down his father's cherry tree, but he also admitted doing it. Now, do you know why his father didn't punish him?"
Sheldon - "Because George still had the axe in his hand."

"Taxidermist, I would like you to do something with these two dead pet rabbits of mine."
"Would you like them mounted, Madam?"
"No. Just holding hands."

School was out and little Julius came bursting into the house crying bitterly.
"The kids beat me up, Mommy. They said I have a big head."
"Now, Julius, don't you listen to them," soothed his mother. "It's not true that you have a big head."
So, partly convinced, Julius returned to school the next day. That afternoon, the scene was repeated, and again his mother repeated her words of reassurance.
"So now calm down," she said, "because I would like you to run down to the market and get me nine pounds of potatoes."
"Okay, Mom. Gimme a bag to put them in," replied Julius.
"A bag! What do you need a bag for?" asked his mother. "Carry them in your hat."

"Ma, I just put a stick of dynamite under my teacher's chair."
"Why that's terrible, Sheldon. You march yourself right back to school immediately."
"What school?"

... and my own personal favorite for the truly dumbest, stupidest one of all -

"Doctor, come quickly. My husband has swallowed a fountain pen!"
"I'll be right over. What are you doing in the meantime?"
"Using a pencil."

Gone to Doggie Heaven

Is there anything sadder than when a boy has to put his dog to sleep and out of its misery? Yeah - when his wife and kid have to share in that decision.

Jane the Dane had a small stroke during the night two weekends ago. Unbeknownst to us. I should have suspected something when I slept in till about six that morning and she was in no hurry to go for our morning dog-walk. Just lay in her chair and eventually came into the next room and got me a couple hours later.

We really should have thought something was up later when I got home from my usual Saturday morning grocery-shopping trip later. Normally, when Jane hears the car pull into the driveway, she whines at the door, Mavis lets her out and she tears out, literally flies off the front porch and then romps around me for a minute or so, tail wagging like there's no tomorrow. ... this time when I got home, Mavis opened the door, she sauntered out onto the porch, looked at me and just waited.

But it wasn't until the next day when we defintely knew something was seriously wrong. We were sitting down for supper, Jane came out to take her usual favorite spot during meals - laying down under the table - and her back legs gave out and she collapsed. That's when we realized that she must have had a small stroke the day before. We'd been through this before with Paxton, our previous Great Dane.

From that point on, she didn't have much energy and was still able to go on short dog walks but she was having trouble with her right back leg. And about once a day her back legs would give out and she'd have a hard time getting back on her feet. On Wednesday night, she tried to go upstairs to bed when I did and as I called her from the top of the stairs, she stood with her front paws on the second step, her tail slowly wagging back and forth behind her. But when she tried to come up, the back legs gave out and she collapsed on the middle of the stairway. We carried her back down and she never made it up those stairs to her night-time bed again.

We spent last weekend keeping her company in the living room where she liked to lay at the foot of my favourite chair. She could no longer climb into her own chair which was a few feet away. We brought her food and water but she mostly lay there, sleeping or staring off into space, her heart beating erratically at times, her breathing laboured at others and only occassionally sitting up on her front elbows and looking her old self. The few times we could get her to the front yard to pee, she could barely make it and had no interest in being out there any longer than she had to.

Mavis, myself and teenaged Sonny Jim all took turns sleeping on the couch next to her that weekend but when I got home from work Monday morning, this dog who normally would greet me at the door all excited, couldn't even raise her head off the floor to say hello. That's when I knew what we had to do. As much as I prayed that she would rally and get better like Paxton had done so many times before, it was obvious that it wasn't going to happen. So we made that final trip to the vets and held her while she got that final needle and let her go. In your heart and soul you know you are doing the best thing you can for her by this - but it sure don't feel that way at the time - and for the next few days, for that matter.

So now she's up in Doggie Heaven, that place next to the Rainbow Bridge talked about in emails well-meaning friends forward to you when they hear your pet has died. In my sappier moments, I like to think of her up there hanging out with Paxton as they wait for me.

Part of what's so sad and unfair about all this is that she was so healthy and in good shape and not even seven years old. And that we only had her for about three and a half years. Which now that I think of it, is about the same length of time we had Paxton when he came to live us when he retired. When you sign up to have a Great Dane, you have to be prepared to have your heart broken far too soon. But they are worth every one of those too-short years.

When Paxton died, I couldn't bear the thought of life without a dog in it and after a brief grieving period, Jane came to live us courtesy her foster-human Phyllis and the good people at the dog-rescue association Danes in Distress.

You might be interested in her childhood but I won't go into all that David Copperfield kind of crap - even though it should be noted that Jane had spent the first three years of her life in a puppy mill in Quebec cranking out babies. She apprently wasn't abused physically but I'm guessing she spent most of those years in a crate. She certainly wasn't loved or given companionship. When she came to us she didn't even know how to play. You bounce a ball in front of Jane and all she saw was not a toy, just a round thing going up and down. I suspect that a lot of her spirit died in her first years and when she came here to what would be her final home, she was just grateful to be anywhere where people paid attention to her and were kind.

Because most of her time was spent in a crate, for her breed, she was not a big Great Dane. Phyllis once referred to her as "the wee one." I like to think her size was because animals grow in proportion to their environment - and it's hard to grow in a crate. And just like everyone else, animals need love. You can't grow if you're not loved.

Jane was a 'Harlequin' Great Dane - meaning she was mostly black with some white markings. The one on her chest was remarkable. Take a look at the second photo from the top. If you use your imagination, Jane's white marking resembles Snoopy when he's doing his 'happy dance.' I like to think that it appeared on Jane during her years in the puppy mill, when she dreamed of being out of her crate. Her marking is a manifestation of what she wished she could be - out of the hell that must be life in a puppy mill. ... Remember that scene in 'The Exorcist' where the governess calls the priest in the middle of the night to show him something on the possessed Regan's stomach. From inside, Regan had caused the words 'Help me' to appear on her stomach. Jane did the same thing on her chest with Snoopy's happy dance.

On Jane's first visit here, we were all smitten. The lady-like way she would lie down and cross her front paws. When outside, the dainty way she would raise her right front paw when she sniffed a flower or another dog's urine. Lady Jane.

She was also Sweet Jane. Not a mean bone in her body. Just a sweet gentle soul. After her first sleepover weekend here, when we took her back to Phyllis's house, as we sat in the kitchen, I was standing with my back against the kitchen counter and Jane came over and planted herself in front of me, her back against my legs. Phyllis smiled and asked her, "Jane, are you guarding Sonny?" That's what Great Danes do. They pick their alpha male and stand in front to protect them. They consider it their duty. At that moment, I knew that she was MY dog and I was her alpha male.

She was a skittish dog and I made it my mission to let her know she was loved and build up her self-confidence. I did it with a mantra I repeated to her many times every day to the day she died - "Jane's a good dog, Jane's a good girl. Janie is the BEST dog in the world!" ... and as she turned out, not to brag, but I did a pretty damn good job. And the last half of her life was the one she so badly deserved.

... The vet called yesterday to say that Jane's ashes were ready to be picked up so I walked over to the Blue Cross Animal Clinic on Wharncliffe near Robert Q and got them. As we made that last walk home down Wharncliffe, I held that box of her ashes clutched to my heart and comforted her all the way with "Jane's a good dog. Jane's a good girl. Janie is the BEST dog in the world!" It was the middle of late-afternoon rush-hour traffic on Wharncliffe, but I didn't give a damn how I looked.

In her last minutes alive Jane did something which will be with me forever. Mavis and I had managed to get her into the car and into the vet's office. And as we sat in the waiting room, my wonderful dog - who could barely even stand and walk at that point - came over to where I was sitting and planted herself in front of me, between my legs. Scared out of her mind no doubt, but she still wanted to guard me. Even in death, ever the faithful loyal companion. Goodbye my dear sweet girl.