Friday, May 27, 2005

 

A tulip by any other ...

An all-female Bluegrass band from San Francisco took on the perfect name, The Good Ol' Persons.
A club of Jewish motorcycle riders from New Jersey is named Hillel's Angels. Their ride of choice is Harley ben Davids.
When I saw a sign for an out-of-business optometrist's office that read "Currier," I suggested it might be thriving if it had been named "Currier and Eyes."

 

How do you steam a clam?

1) Insult his mother.

2) Tell him his politics is nutty.

3) Laugh at his religion.

4) Have him write an intelligent, literate, reasonable, correctly spelled Letter to the Editor of the Chattanooga Times Free Press and then read the indecipherable, moronic mess the mis-called "copy editor" makes of it.

Monday, May 09, 2005

 

Manifest Destiny

NASA, preparing for the Apollo project, did some astronaut training on some Navajo Indian reservation land.
One day, an elderly Navajo and his son were herding sheep nearby and came across the space crew. The old man, who only spoke Navajo, asked a question, which the son translated: "What are the guys in the big suits doing?"
A member of the crew said they were practicing for their trip to the moon.
The old man got really excited and asked if he could send a message to the moon with the astronauts.
Recognizing a promotional opportunity for the spin-doctors, the NASA folks found a tape recorder. After the old man recorded his message, they asked the son to translate. He declined, apparently embarrassed.
So the NASA reps brought the tape to the reservation headquarters at Window Rock, where the elected leaders of the tribe listened and laughed, but they also refused to translate the elder's message to the moon.
Finally, NASA called on an official government translator from the Bureau of Indian Affairs. He reported that the message to the moon said: "Watch out for these guys; they've come to steal your land."

Monday, May 02, 2005

 

Blew notes

When a certain famous jazz musician bought several agricultural acres, he raised the eyebrows of his bucolic neighbors when they found out he fed his bovine creatures ink.
He explained later, when he got back to the band circuit, "The best part of farming, I found, was when the cows mooed indigo."

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