D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
May
2009
Men and Women, Sex and Religion, Southerners and CEOs
Plus flying while blonde, hasty decisions and getting throne for a loop.
Annals of medicine. . . Longtime contributor JackB returns with this yarn from the frontiers of health care:
"A woman went to the emergency room, where she was seen by a young new doctor. After about three minutes in the examination room, the doctor told her she was pregnant. She burst out of the room and ran down the corridor screaming.
"An older doctor stopped her and asked what the problem was; after listening to her story, he calmed her down and sat her in another room. Then the doctor marched down the hallway to the first doctor's room. 'What's wrong with you?' he demanded. 'This woman is 63 years old, she has two grown children and several grandchildren, and you told her she was pregnant?!'
"The new doctor continued to write on his clipboard and without looking up said, 'Does she still have the hiccups?'"
Persons of the blonde persuasion. . . When Fred in the Garage sent this our way, he described it as "the best blonde joke ever." You can, of course, make it the best brunette or redhead joke ever — it's up to you:
"A plane is on its way to Sydney when a blonde in Economy Class gets up and moves to the First Class and sits down. The flight attendant watches her do this and asks to see her ticket. She then tells the blonde passenger that she's paid for Economy and that she will have to go and sit in the back. The blonde replies, 'I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, I'm going to Sydney and I'm staying right here!'
"The flight attendant goes into the cockpit and tells the pilot and co-pilot that there is some blonde bimbo sitting in First Class who belongs in Economy and won't move back to her seat. The co-pilot goes back to the blonde and tries to explain that because she paid only for an Economy ticket she is entitled only to an Economy seat and she will have to leave and return to her original seat. The blonde replies, 'I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, I'm going to Sydney, and I'm staying right here!'
"Exasperated, the co-pilot tells the pilot that it was no use and that he probably should have the police waiting when they land to arrest this blonde woman who won't listen to reason. The pilot says, 'You say she's blonde? I'll handle this — I'm married to a blonde, and I speak blonde!' He goes back to the blonde and whispers in her ear.
"The blonde immediately says, 'Oh, I'm sorry — I had no idea,' gets up and moves back to her seat in the Economy section.
"The flight attendant and co-pilot are amazed and ask the pilot what he said to make her move without any fuss. The pilot replies, 'I told her First Class isn't going to Sydney.'"
Losing the battle of the sexes. . . A double volley in the gender wars this month begins with this from Toni in the Vet's Office:
"After being married for 44 years, he took a careful look at his wife one day and said, 'Honey, 44 years ago we had a cheap apartment, a cheap car, slept on a sofa bed and watched a 10-inch black-and-white TV, but I got to sleep every night with a hot 25-year-old gal. Now I have a $500,000 home, a $45,000 car, nice big bed and plasma-screen TV, but I'm sleeping with a 65-year-old woman. It seems to me that you're not holding up your side of things.'
"His wife was a very reasonable woman. She told him to go out and find a hot 25-year-old gal, and she would make sure that he would once again be living in a cheap apartment, driving a cheap car, sleeping on a sofa bed and watching a 10-inch black-and-white TV.
"Aren't older women great? They really know how to solve your mid-life crises!"
And then there's this tale of trouble in paradise — literally — sent our way by Old Grumps:
"'Lord, I have a problem.'
"'What's the problem, Eve?'
"'I know that you created me and provided this beautiful garden and all of these wonderful animals, as well as that hilarious comedic snake, but I'm just not happy.'
"'And why is that, Eve?'
"'Lord, I am lonely, and I'm sick to death of apples.'
"'Well, Eve, in that case, I have a solution. I shall create a man for you.'
"'Man? What is that, Lord?'
"'A flawed creature, with many bad habits and traits. He'll lie, cheat and be vain; all in all, he'll give you a hard time. But he'll be bigger, faster and will like to hunt and kill things. I'll create him in such a way that he will satisfy your physical needs. He will be witless and will revel in childish things like fighting and kicking a ball about. He won't be as smart as you, so he will also need your advice to think properly.'
"'Sounds great,' says Eve, with ironically raised eyebrows, 'but what's the catch, Lord?'
"'Well. . . you can have him on one condition.'
"'And what's that, Lord?'
"'As I said, he'll be proud, arrogant and self-admiring. So you'll have to let him believe that I made him first. And it will have to be our little secret. You know, woman to woman.'"
Fire your own shots in the battle of the sexes! Or just send us a favorite joke, anecdote or entertaining yarn. Send to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062, fax 575-5134 or email diary@desertexposure.com
Southern comfort. . . We're loath to disparage another region of this great country of ours, but couldn't resist this submission on "Why They Love the South" from Rebel Yell (as we'll call her for her own protection). Before you think we're being too mean, keep in mind Rebel's addendum: "You can say what you want about the South, but you never hear of anyone retiring and moving north." Onward:
"Georgia: The owner of a golf course in Georgia was confused about paying an invoice, so he decided to ask his secretary for some mathematical help. He called her into his office and said, 'You graduated from the University of Georgia and I need some help. If I were to give you $20,000, minus 14 percent, how much would you take off?'
"The secretary thought a moment, then replied, 'Everything but my earrings.'"
"Alabama: A group of Alabama friends went deer hunting and paired off in twos for the day. That night, one of the hunters returned alone, staggering under the weight of an eight-point buck. 'Where's Henry?' the others asked.
"'Henry had a stroke of some kind. He's a couple of miles back up the trail,' the successful hunter replied.
"'You left Henry lying out there and carried the deer back?' they inquired.
"'A tough call,' nodded the hunter. 'But I figured no one is going to steal Henry!'"
"Louisiana: A senior at Louisiana State was overheard saying, 'When the end of the world comes, I hope to be in Louisiana.' When asked why, he replied he'd rather be in Louisiana because everything happens in Louisiana 20 years later than in the rest of the civilized world."
"Mississippi: The young man from Mississippi came running into the store and said to his buddy, 'Bubba, somebody just stole your pickup truck from the parking lot!'
"Bubba replied, 'Did you see who it was?'
"The young man answered, 'I couldn't tell, but I got the license number.'"
"South Carolina (read this one aloud, with an accent): A man in South Carolina had a flat tire, pulled off on the side of the road, and proceeded to put a bouquet of flowers in front of the car and one behind it. Then he got back in the car to wait. A passerby studied the scene as he drove by and was so curious he turned around and went back. He asked the fellow what the problem was. The man replied, 'I have a flat tire.'
"The passerby asked, 'But what's with the flowers?'
"The man responded, 'When you break down, they tell you to put flares in the front and flares in the back. I never did understand it neither.'"
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!