D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
May
2009
Desert Diary
Page: 2
Sex and religion. . . are two of the things we know never to talk about in polite company. But we hope you'll forgive us for the next two tales, anyway. (At least they're not about politics!) The first is from Bob in the Mortuary:
"Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea. As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cut-glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated, of all things, a condom!
"When Miss Beatrice returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist. 'Miss Beatrice,' he said, 'I wonder if you would tell me about this?' — pointing to the bowl.
"'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'Isn't it wonderful? I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter!' "
Then this one, from BillH:
"A married Irishman went into the confessional and said to his priest, 'I almost had an affair with another woman.'
"The priest said, 'What do you mean, almost?'
"The Irishman said, 'Well, we got undressed and rubbed together, but then I stopped.'
"The priest said, 'Rubbing together is the same as putting it in. You're not to see that woman again. For your penance, say five Hail Marys and put $50 in the poor box.'
"The Irishman left the confessional, said his prayers, and then walked over to the poor box. He paused for a moment and then started to leave. The priest, who was watching, quickly ran over to him, saying, 'I saw that! You didn't put any money in the poor box!'
"The Irishman replied, 'Yeah, but I rubbed the $50 on the box, and according to you, that's the same as putting it in!' "
Capital pun-ishment. . . New correspondent Bill of Cedar Hill weighs in with this tale of a royal pain:
"Once upon a time there was a kingdom in the grasslands of Africa, overseen by a benevolent ruler. It was exceptionally prosperous and the people were happy. The village elders held a meeting and decided to show their appreciation of the king by presenting him with a custom-made throne. Now be it known that there were no trees, so the throne was made of elaborately woven grass — and a truly kingly product it was. Be it also known that all the houses were one-story and made of grass, with one exception: the royal palace, which had a second level. When the beloved king was elsewhere, his subjects wrestled the throne into the palace and upstairs. The king was delighted, and soon developed the habit of reclining in his new throne and gazing out over his lands. But one day the heavy throne broke through the floor and, alas, the king was killed.
"Which plainly shows that those who live in grass houses should never stow thrones."
Annals of high finance. . . This little lesson comes via Jess Hossinaround in Arenas Valley, who asks, "Have you ever worked for a boss who reacts before getting the facts?" Never!
"The Board of Directors, feeling it was time for a shakeup, hired a new CEO. The new boss was determined to rid the company of all slackers. On a tour of the facilities, the CEO noticed a guy leaning on a wall. The room was full of workers and he wanted to let them know that he meant business. He walked up to the guy leaning against the wall and asked, 'How much money do you make a week?'
"A little surprised, the young man looked at him and replied, 'I make $400 a week. Why?'
"The CEO then handed the guy $1,600 in cash and screamed, 'Here's four weeks' pay — now GET OUT and don't come back!'
"Feeling pretty good about himself, the CEO then looked around the room and asked, 'Can anyone tell me what that goofball did here?'
"From across the room came a voice: 'Sure. He delivered the pizza.' "
The 411 on that 911. . . Finally, following up on that theme of thinking twice before you ask, SteveL sends along this one that's short and, er, to the point:
"Operator: '911, what is your emergency?'
"Caller: 'We were hunting and my friend fell out of a tree stand. I think he is dead!'
"Operator: 'Now calm down, sir. First, we have to be sure he really is dead.'
"Caller: 'Just a minute.' Two spaced rifle shots heard over the phone. 'OK, now what?' "
Go on, take your best shot! Send your favorite jokes, anecdotes, puns and
tall tales to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 534-4134,
or 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. . . We're still happily catching up on reader photos of themselves and Desert Exposure on vacation — but don't let that backlog keep you from joining the fun! This pair of pix comes from Ron and Jan Wofford of Hurley and John and Arling Hoagland of Silver City, who write: "August of this year, four of us decided to take a vacation together. We traveled to West Virginia, New Jersey, New York, Lancaster, Pa., Washington, DC, Memphis and back home — 5,500 miles by auto, not counting trains, buses and walking. We saw so many wonderful things about this amazing country. We did remember to take the Desert Exposure with us and tell everyone about our great state and cities. Spent 9-11 in Washington, DC, and the emotions ran high. After all this time and travel, three and a half weeks' worth together, the amazing thing is that we are still best friends."
This photo comes from a December cruise taken by Bill and Diane Armstrong. He writes: "We took this pic in Ushuaia, Argentina, the world's southernmost city. Ushuaia is the capital of Tierra del Fuego on the Beagle Channel. It can dock large cargo and cruise ships like the Nowegian Sun, on which we were cruising from Buenos Aires around Cape Horn to Valparaiso, Chile. Ushuaia was first a penal colony, named for a native word meaning 'bay towards the end.' The prison remained active until the 1940s.
"Only a few miles south of Ushuaia lies the forbidding Cape Horn, exposed to the cold, wet Westerlies. Our ship rounded the Horn, powering into the teeth of the Westerlies, then headed north for the calm of the Beagle Channel and Ushuaia, where it was a delightful balmy day.
"The wall where we posed had both English and Spanish versions. I can send you one with the English version, but I suspect most readers will be able to translate. Besides, we look better in this shot."
Whether you're traveling to the bottom of the world or the top of W Mountain, snap a picture of yourself holding a copy of "the biggest little paper in the Southwest" and send it to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, email diary@desertexposure.com Sooner or later, we'll get to them all — promise!