D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
September 2009
Happy Aging, Econ 101 and the Hawaiian Good Luck Sign
Plus pondering the imponderables and offending the easily offended.
Annals of medicine. . . As you'll see, this opening yarn could easily have fit under one of our other, most popular topics — but we didn't want to spoil Old Grumps' punch line:
"A doctor was addressing a large audience in Tampa: 'The material we put into our stomachs is enough to have killed most of us sitting here, years ago. Red meat is awful. Soft drinks corrode your stomach lining. Chinese food is loaded with MSG. High-fat diets can be disastrous, and none of us realizes the long-term harm caused by the germs in our drinking water. However, there is one thing that is the most dangerous of all and we all have eaten, or will eat it. Can anyone here tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?'
"After several seconds of quiet, a 75-year-old man in the front row raised his hand, and softly said, 'Wedding cake.'"
Kids say the darnedest things. . . The overly sensitive will want to skip this one, sent our way by Toni in the Vet's Office — but they'll be missing a chuckle:
"Two young boys walked into a pharmacy one day, picked out a box of tampons and proceeded to the checkout counter. The man at the counter asked the older boy, 'Son, how old are you?'
"'Eight,' the boy replied.
"The man continued, 'Do you know what these are used for?'
"The boy replied, 'Not exactly, but they aren't for me. They're for him. He's my brother. He's four. We saw on TV that if you use these you would be able to swim and ride a bike. Right now, he can't do either.'"
Pondering the imponderables. . . We happily resurrect our "deep thoughts" category for this splash in the shallow end, passed along by Ramblin' Guy:
"A day without sunshine is like night.
"On the other hand, you have different fingers.
"42.7% of all statistics are made up on the spot.
"99% of lawyers give the rest a bad name.
"Remember, half the people you know are below average.
"He who laughs last, thinks slowest.
"Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.
"The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese in the trap.
"Support bacteria. They're the only culture most people have.
"A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
"Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.
"If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.
"How many of you believe in psychokinesis? Raise my hand.
"OK, so what's the speed of dark?
"When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
"Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.
"How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?
"Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.
"What happens if you get scared half to death, twice?
"Why do psychics have to ask you your name?
"Inside every older person is a younger person wondering, 'What the heck happened?'
"Light travels faster than sound. That's why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
"Life isn't like a box of chocolates. It's more like a jar of jalapenos. What you do today, might burn your butt tomorrow."
Share your deep thoughts, shallow puns, all-wet anecdotes and splashiest jokes with diary@desertexposure.com Snail-mailers may write PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062. Remember, the best submissions each month are rewarded with a Desert Exposure mouse pad, not sold in any store!
Persons of the blonde persuasion. . . As always, feel free to impugn redheads or brunettes instead in this funny from Cardmama in the Burros:
"My boyfriend and I were lunching at a sidewalk cafe in Huntington Beach, Calif. Our waitress looked like a real surfer girl: athletic with a great tan and blonde hair. Mulling over the menu, my guy asked her if the roast beef was rare.
"The waitress gave us a long blank look, and then replied, 'Well, no. We have it, like, just about every day.'"
Losing the battle of the sexes. . . We share this submission from Ned Ludd with no comment, except to point out that Ned is, after all, a GUY:
"Summer Classes for Women at the Adult Learning Center
"Note: Due to the complexity and difficulty level of their contents, class sizes will be limited to eight participants maximum."Class 1: Up in Winter, Down in Summer-How to Adjust a Thermostat. Step by step, with slide presentation.
"Class 2: Which Takes More Energy — Putting the Toilet Seat Down, or Bitching About It for 3 Hours? Round table discussion.
"Class 3: Is It Possible To Drive Past a Wal-Mart Without Stopping? — Group debate.
"Class 4: Fundamental Differences Between a Purse and a Suitcase — Pictures and explanatory graphics.
"Class 5: Curling Irons — Can They Levitate and Fly Into The Bathroom Cabinet? Examples on video.
"Class 6: How to Ask Questions During Commercials and Be Quiet During the Program — Help-line support and support groups.
"Class 7: Can a Bath Be Taken Without 14 Different Kinds of Soaps and Shampoos? Open forum.
"Class 8: Health Watch — They Make Medicine for PMS — USE IT!
"Class 9: I Was Wrong and He Was Right! — Real-life testimonials.
"Class 10: How to Parallel Park in Less Than 20 Minutes Without an Insurance Claim — Driving simulations.
"Class 11: Learning to Live — How to Apply Brakes Without Throwing Passengers Through the Windshield."
Ladies? You know the address: diary@desertexposure.com
You're only as old as you feel. . . "Sometimes it hurts to get older," observes Bill in the Mimbres, while forwarding this yarn that — once again, sorry, folks — is not for the easily offended:
"An elderly couple, Margaret and Bert, moved to Grant County from the Midwest. Bert always wanted a pair of authentic cowboy boots, so, seeing some on sale, he bought them and wore them home.
"Walking proudly, he sauntered into the kitchen and said to his wife, 'Notice anything different about me?'
"Margaret looked him over. 'Nope.'
"Frustrated, Bert stormed off into the bathroom, undressed and walked back into the kitchen completely naked except for the boots. Again he asked Margaret, a little louder this time, 'Notice anything different NOW?'
"Margaret looked up and said, 'Bert, what's different? It's hanging down today, it was hanging down yesterday, it'll be hanging down again tomorrow!'
"Furious, Bert yelled, 'AND DO YOU KNOW WHY IT'S HANGING DOWN, MARGARET?'
"'Nope', she replied.
"'IT'S HANGING DOWN BECAUSE IT'S LOOKING AT MY NEW BOOTS!'
"Without changing her expression, Margaret replied, 'Shoulda bought a hat, Bert. Shoulda bought a hat.'"
Economics 101. . . Figuring we can all use a better grounding in money matters these days, we share this economics lesson from CharlesC:
"Heidi is the proprietor of a bar in Detroit. She realizes that virtually all of her customers are unemployed alcoholics and, as such, can no longer afford to patronize her bar. To solve this problem, she comes up with a new marketing plan that allows her customers to drink now, but pay later. She keeps track of the drinks consumed on a ledger (thereby granting the customers loans).
"Word gets around about Heidi's 'drink now, pay later' marketing strategy and, as a result, increasing numbers of customers flood into Heidi's bar. Soon she has the largest sales volume for any bar in Detroit. By providing her customers freedom from immediate payment demands, Heidi gets no resistance when, at regular intervals, she substantially increases her prices for wine and beer, the most-consumed beverages. Consequently, Heidi's gross sales volume increases massively.
"A young and dynamic vice president at the local bank recognizes that these customer debts constitute valuable future assets and increases Heidi's borrowing limit. He sees no reason for any undue concern, since he has the debts of the unemployed alcoholics as collateral. At the bank's corporate headquarters, expert traders transform these customer loans into DRINKBONDS, ALKIBONDS and PUKEBONDS. These securities are then bundled and traded on international security markets. Naive investors don't really understand that the securities being sold to them as AAA-secured bonds are really the debts of unemployed alcoholics. Nevertheless, the bond prices continuously climb, and the securities soon become the hottest-selling items for some of the nation's leading brokerage houses.
"One day, even though the bond prices are still climbing, a risk manager at the original local bank decides that the time has come to demand payment on the debts incurred by the drinkers at Heidi's bar. He so informs Heidi. She then demands payment from her patrons, but being unemployed alcoholics they cannot pay back their drinking debts.
"Since Heidi cannot fulfill her loan obligations, she is forced into bankruptcy. The bar closes and the 11 employees lose their jobs. Overnight, DRINKBONDS, ALKIBONDS and PUKEBONDS drop in price by 90%. The collapsed bond asset value destroys the bank's liquidity and prevents it from issuing new loans, thus freezing credit and economic activity in the community.
"The suppliers of Heidi's bar had granted her generous payment extensions and had invested their firms' pension funds in the various bar-debt securities. They find they are now faced with having to write off her bad debt and with losing over 90% of the presumed value of the bonds. Her wine supplier also claims bankruptcy, closing the doors on a family business that had endured for three generations. Her beer supplier is taken over by a competitor, who immediately closes the local plant and lays off 150 workers.
"Fortunately, though, the bank, the brokerage houses and their respective executives are saved and bailed out by a multi-billion dollar, no-strings-attached cash infusion from the government. The funds required for this bailout are obtained by new taxes levied on employed, middle-class, non-drinkers.
"Now, do you understand?"
You're only as old as you feel, II. . . More on the ups and downs of aging, this time from Judge Hazard A. Guess, and once again with a warning for the easily offended. (Readers, get your minds out of the gutter and send us more squeaky-clean jokes!)
"After the 83-year-old lady finished her annual physical examination, the doctor said, 'You are in fine shape for your age, Mrs. Green, but tell me, do you still have intercourse?'
"'Just a minute, I'll have to ask my husband,' she said. She stepped out into the crowded reception room and yelled out loud: 'Bob, do we still have intercourse?'
"There was a hush so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Bob answered impatiently, 'If I told you once, Irma, I told you a hundred times! What we have is Blue Cross!'"
And then there's this, courtesy of the Silver City Greek:
"Grandma is 88 years old and still drives her own car. She writes:
"Dear Granddaughter,
"The other day I went up to our local Christian bookstore and saw a 'Honk if you love Jesus' bumper sticker. I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I had just come from a thrilling choir performance, followed by a thunderous prayer meeting. So, I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper. Boy, am I glad I did — what an uplifting experience followed.
"I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is, and I didn't notice that the light had changed. It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus, because if he hadn't honked, I'd never have noticed.
"I found that lots of people love Jesus! While I was sitting there, the guy behind started honking like crazy, and then he leaned out of his window and screamed, 'For the love of God! Go! Go! Go! Jesus Christ, GO!'
"What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus!
"Everyone started honking! I just leaned out my window and started waving and smiling at all those loving people. I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love!
"There must have been a man from Florida back there because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach.
"I saw another guy waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. I asked my young teenage grandson in the back seat what that meant. He said it was probably a Hawaiian good luck sign or something. Well, I have never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign right back.
"My grandson burst out laughing. Why, even he was enjoying this religious experience!
"A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me. I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed. So, grinning, I waved at all my brothers and sisters, and drove on through the intersection.
"I noticed that I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again, and felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared.
"So I slowed the car down, leaned out the window and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away. Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!
"Will write again soon,
"Love, Grandma"
Send your favorite jokes, anecdotes, puns and tall tales 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. . .
We again happily plunge into our backlog of photos sent by vacationing readers (but don't let that "backlog" discourage you from sending in your own pix — we'll get to them all!). First up is Pat Dunn of Tyrone, who writes: "I spent three weeks visiting my daughter, son-in-law and three grandchildren who are living just outside of London. My son-in-law is a captain in the Navy and is attached to NATO in England. The children were on a spring break so the whole family spent a wonderful week in Paris and at the Normandy beaches. We perused Desert Exposure at the spectacular Mont St. Michel."
Next is a photo of Susan Rice reading Desert Exposure on Larsen's Beach on Kaua'i, Hawaii. Steve Clark took the photo.
Whether you're headed to Paris or to paradise, take along a copy of Desert Exposure and get a photo of yourself with it "on location." Send to Desert Diary, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062 or email diary@desertexposure.com