D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
April
2009
Robbers, Drunks and Idiots
Plus the power of Scripture and the meaning of "savoir faire."
Persons of the blonde persuasion. . . In honor of April Fool's Day, we begin with this yarn from JackB, adding our standard cautionary note about tresses-based stereotyping and invitation to substitute the hair hue of your choice:
"A car gets a flat on the interstate one day. The blonde driver eases it over onto the shoulder of the road, carefully steps out of the car and opens the trunk. She takes out two cardboard men, unfolds them and stands them at the rear of the vehicle facing oncoming traffic. The lifelike cardboard men are in trench coats, exposing their nude bodies and private parts to approaching drivers.
"Not surprisingly, the traffic becomes snarled and backed up. It isn't very long before a police car arrives. The officer, clearly enraged, approaches the blonde of the disabled vehicle, yelling, 'What's going on here?'
"'My car broke down, officer,' says the woman calmly.
"'Well, what the heck are these obscene cardboard pictures doing here by the road?' he asks.
"'Helllooooooo!!!!' says the blonde. 'Those are my emergency flashers!'"
The pluck of the Irish. . . We're not sure why the characters in this tale, sent along by Toni in the Vet's Office, need to be Irish, but we share it as we got it in belated celebration of St. Patrick's Day:
"An armed hooded robber bursts into the Bank of Ireland and forces the tellers to load a sack full of cash. As the robber is on his way out the door with the loot, one brave Irish customer grabs the hood and pulls it off, revealing the robber's face. The robber shoots the guy in the head without hesitation! He then looks around the bank to see if anyone else has seen him.
"One of the tellers is looking straight at him, and the robber walks over and calmly shoots him in the head also.
"Everyone by now is very scared and looking down at the floor. 'Did anyone else see my face?' calls the robber.
"There is a moment's silence, then one elderly Irish gent, looking down, tentatively raises his hand and says, 'I think me wife may have caught a glimpse. . .'"
The joke's on us. . . As former Midwesterners, we do know why the characters in this yarn emailed by SteveL simply have to be Scandinavian. And, being Swedish, we're pretty sure they must be Norwegians:
"Sven and Ole are walking down a street in Madison, Wisc., when they see a sign on a store that reads, 'Suits $5 each, shirts $2 each, trousers $2.50 per pair.'
"Sven says to his pal, 'Looky here! Ve could buy a whole gob of dese, take 'em back to Dulut', sell 'em to our friends, and make a fortune. Now, ven ve go in dere, you be quiet, okay? Yust let me do da talkin', 'cause if dey hear your accent, dey might tink we're ignorant, and try to cheat us. Now, I'll try not to sound like ve're from Minnie-sota.'
"They go in and Sven says with his best Wisconsin accent, 'I'll take 50 of them suits at $5 each, 100 of them there shirts at $2 each, and 50 pairs of them there trousers at $2.50 each. I'll back up my pickup and. . .'
"The owner of the shop interrupts, 'You're from Minnesota, ain't you?'
"'Well, yeah,' says a surprised Sven. 'How'd you know dat?'
"'Because this is a dry-cleaners.'"
You're only as old as you feel. . . We welcome new correspondent Judge Hazard A. Guess, who sends in this sad story:
"An old man, Mr. Wallace, was living in a nursing home. One day he appeared to be very sad and depressed. Nurse Tracy asked him if there was anything wrong,
"'Yes, Nurse Tracy,' said Mr. Wallace. 'My Private Part died today, and I am very sad.'
"Knowing her patients were a little forgetful and sometimes a little crazy, she replied, 'Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Wallace. Please accept my condolences.'
"The following day, Mr. Wallace was walking down the hall with his Private Part hanging out of his pajamas. He met Nurse Tracy. 'Mr. Wallace,' she said, 'You shouldn't be walking down the hall like that. Please put your Private Part back inside your pajamas.'
"'But, Nurse Tracy, I can't,' replied Mr. Wallace. 'I told you yesterday that my Private Part died.'
"'Yes,' said Nurse Tracy, 'you did tell me that, but why is it hanging out of your pajamas?'
"'Well,' he replied, 'today is the viewing.'"
Join the fun and send in your own favorite joke, punny fun or anecdote to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 534-4134 or email diary@desertexposure.com
Annals of inebriation. . . We can always count on Old Grumps for a monthly chuckle, and this month is no exception:
"A drunken cowboy laid sprawled across three seats in the posh Amarillo Theater. When the usher noticed this, he whispered to the cowboy, 'Sir, you're only allowed one seat in the theater.'
"The cowboy just groaned — and didn't move.
"The usher became impatient: 'Sir, if you don't get up from there, I'm going to have to call the manager.' Once again, the cowboy just groaned.
"The usher marched briskly back up the aisle and returned with the manager. Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move the cowboy, with no success. Finally they summoned a policeman, who surveyed the situation and then asked, 'All right, cowboy, what's your name?'
"'Fred', the cowboy groaned.
"'Where ya from, Fred?' asked the policeman.
"With terrible pain in his voice and without moving a muscle, Fred replied, 'The balcony.'"
The Good Book. . . Faithful correspondent Bob in the Mortuary reverently writes with this inspirational story:
"A woman had just returned to her home from an evening of church services, when she was startled by an intruder. She caught the man in the act of robbing her home of its valuables and yelled, 'Stop! Acts 2:38!' ('Repent and be baptized, in the name of Jesus Christ, so that your sins may be forgiven.') The burglar stopped in his tracks.
"The woman calmly called the police and explained what she had done. As the officer cuffed the man to take him in, he asked the burglar, 'Why did you just stand there? All the old lady did was yell a scripture to you.'
"'Scripture?' replied the burglar. 'She said she had an ax and two .38s!'"
Stupid is as stupid does. . . These (purportedly) true tales of the idiots that walk among us were submitted by the very smart Jess Hossinaround in Arenas Valley:
"Some guy bought a new fridge for his house. To get rid of his old fridge, he put it in his front yard and hung a sign on it saying: 'Free to good home. You want it, you take it.' For three days the fridge sat there without even one person looking twice at it. He eventually decided that people were too un-trusting of this deal.
"It looked too good to be true, so he changed the sign to read: 'Fridge for sale $50.'
"The next day someone stole it!"
"One day I was walking down the beach with some friends when someone shouted, 'Look at that dead bird!' Someone looked up at the sky and said, 'Where?'"
"While looking at a house, my brother asked the real-estate agent which direction was north because, he explained, he didn't want the sun waking him up every morning. She asked, 'Does the sun rise in the north?' When my brother explained that the sun rises in the east, and has for some time, she shook her head and said, 'Oh, I don't keep up with that stuff.'"
"My colleague and I were eating our lunch in our cafeteria, when we overheard one of the administrative assistants talking about the sunburn she got on her weekend drive to the beach. She drove down in a convertible, but didn't think she'd get sunburned 'because the car was moving.'"
"My sister has a lifesaving tool in her car. It's designed to cut through a seat belt if she gets trapped. She keeps it in the trunk."
"I was hanging out with a friend when we saw a woman with a nose ring that was attached to an earring by a chain. My friend said, 'Wouldn't the chain rip out every time she turned her head?' I had to explain that a person's nose and ear remain the same distance apart no matter which way the head is turned."
"I couldn't find my luggage at the airport baggage area. So I went to the lost luggage office and told the woman there that my bags never showed up. She smiled and told me not to worry because she was a trained professional and I was in good hands. 'Now,' she asked me, 'has your plane arrived yet?'"
"While working at a pizza parlor, I observed a man ordering a small pizza to go. He appeared to be alone and the cook asked him if he would like it cut into four pieces or six. He thought about it for some time before responding: 'Just cut it into four pieces; I don't think I'm hungry enough to eat six pieces.'"
Kids say the darnedest things. . . Thanks to Fred in the Garage for passing this along:
"A little boy got on the bus, sat next to a man reading a book, and noticed he had his collar on backwards. The little boy asked why he wore his collar backwards. The man, who was a priest, said, 'I am a Father.'
"The little boy replied, 'My Dad doesn't wear his collar like that.'
"The priest looked up from his book and answered, 'I am the Father of many.'
"The boy said, 'My Dad has four boys, four girls and two grandchildren and he doesn't wear his collar that way.'
"The priest, getting impatient, said, 'I am the Father of hundreds,' and went back to reading his book.
"The little boy sat quietly thinking for a while, then leaned over and said, 'Maybe you should use a condom and wear your pants backwards instead of your collar.'"
Annals of inebriation, round two. . . The lesson to be learned from this story, sent our way by Ned Ludd, is that you should never question a drunk:
"I was shopping at the local supermarket, where I selected: a half-gallon of two-percent milk, a carton of eggs, a quart of orange juice, a head of romaine lettuce, a two-pound can of coffee and a one-pound package of bacon. As I was unloading my items on the conveyor belt to check out, a drunk standing behind me watched as I placed the items in front of the cashier.
"While the cashier was ringing up the purchases, the drunk calmly stated, 'You must be single.'
"I was a bit startled by this proclamation, but I was intrigued by the derelict's intuition, since I was indeed single. I looked at the six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about my selections that could have tipped off the drunk to my marital status. Curiosity getting the better of me, I said, 'Well, you know what, you're absolutely right. But how on earth did you know that?'
"The drunk replied, 'Cause you're ugly.'"
International incidents. . . Finally, we diplomatically pass along this tale from GeeRichard:
"In a bar near the United Nations, three young diplomats — a Frenchman, an Englishman and an American — are debating meanings of words and phrases in various languages. This day, the phrase 'savoir faire' was the topic.
"One gent poses a situation: What do you do if, when you get home and look for your wife, you discover her in bed with another man?
"The American says, 'I'd be cool. I'd close the bedroom door quietly and leave. That's savoir faire.'
"The Englishman: 'Not quite, old chap. Before I close the door, I'd say, "Carry on." That's savoir faire.'
"The Frenchman says, 'Almost, mon ami, but not quite. Yes, I would close the door, after first saying, "Carry on.'' Then, if HE carries on, HE has savoir faire.'"
True savoir faire means sending your favorite jokes, puns and ponderings to: Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 534-4134, email diary@desertexposure.com The best submission each month gets a brand-new Desert Exposure mouse pad, scientifically proven to take the strain out of emailing jokes to Desert Diary.
Postcards from the edge. . . What loyal Desert Exposure readers will do to obtain photos of themselves on vacation, holding their favorite publication! Ellen Tyre sent us this trio of pictures with this explanation: "On a recent visit to England, I had to do some 'splainin' to the London Bobby guarding a gate to Buckingham Palace (first photo), as to why I wanted to take a picture of him with a newspaper. I finally convinced him and photo number two was snapped. I also took my Desert Exposure to Stonehenge (photo number three), and passed it on to a fellow traveler from Quebec who took this photo. My favorite paper sure gets around, doesn't it? The Desert Exposure is the only paper I read cover to cover. Thanks for a great publication that I look forward to every month!"
Our second submission comes from Melissa Copeland, who writes: "Friends Esperanza Telles, Melissa Copeland and Pamela Smith took Desert Exposure along on a glass-bottomed boat ride in Mammee Bay, Jamaica, on their vacation getaway from Las Cruces. They then made the ultimate sacrifice of leaving the paper behind in their rental villa, so the next guests can be introduced to our little neck of the woods."
Whether you're traveling to the islands or just to Isleta, snap a photo of yourself holding "the biggest little paper in the Southwest" and send it to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, email diary@desertexposure.com