why don't eggs tell jokes?
because they are afraid of cracking themselves up!
because they are afraid of cracking themselves up!
Terrible jokes thread ... post your groaners!
- Thread starter Mace Gill
- Start date
This might or might not be funny...
...Let me know! 
I am running out of ideas, this might be odd.
-One guy walks into the airport and sees a man walking backwards down the stairs...
"Why are you walking like that? Your gonna fall." He says to the man.
"Well, I feel weird. I can't walk straight." Says the fella.
"Then why ya walking backwards down the stairs?"
After that conversation, the fella had fell-a.-
-K
...Let me know! I am running out of ideas, this might be odd.
-One guy walks into the airport and sees a man walking backwards down the stairs...
"Why are you walking like that? Your gonna fall." He says to the man.
"Well, I feel weird. I can't walk straight." Says the fella.
"Then why ya walking backwards down the stairs?"
After that conversation, the fella had fell-a.-
-K
What do you call a chicken with a piece of lettuce in its eye?
CHICKEN CAES-HER SALAD
CHICKEN CAES-HER SALAD
Chicken 859
Chirping
I got work this morning to find a lump of Plasticine on my desk.
I don't know what to make of it.
I don't know what to make of it.
Why is it easy for chicks to talk?
Because talk is cheep!
Because talk is cheep!
What happens when a hen eats gunpowder?
She lays hand gren-eggs!
What happens when you drop a hand gren-egg?
It eggs-plodes!
What do you get when a chicken lays an egg on top of a barn?
An eggroll!
She lays hand gren-eggs!
What happens when you drop a hand gren-egg?
It eggs-plodes!
What do you get when a chicken lays an egg on top of a barn?
An eggroll!
Lol! Good ones!
- Thread starter
- #59
Mace Gill
Songster
A long time ago, during the thirteenth century, somewhere in a quiet an unfashionable part of Europe stood a small, isolated monastery. The monks lived quietly enough tending to their livestock, their fields, and living the monastic life. Each of the friars had a role and all was well.
One day a young monk arrived to join the other brothers in their life of prayer and solitude. The abbot spoke with him gently and discovered that Brother Timothy (the new friar) was a pious young man who seemed as if he would fit in well with the austere life of the monastery. His only request was that he be allowed to continue to cultivate flowers. You see, Brother Timothy was a talented florist who could encourage any flower to grow in even the harshest conditions. He considered his ability to be a gift from God and that continuing this activity was a testament to Him. The abbot agreed that as long as he didn’t slack in his duties, he could grow all of the flowers he wished. In fact, the idea rather pleased the abbot as it would lend a degree of cheer to the friars’ somewhat dreary lives.
So it all started out well enough. Brother Timothy was as diligent in his chores and tasks as any of the most seasoned monks. He did find the time to grow flowers and soon the monastery’s gardens were a riot of color and pleasant smells. Brother Timothy even potted a few plants and distributed them to the other friars so that each would have a bit of God’s glory to cheer there plain cells. About once a month, Brother Timothy would travel to the seaport to trade with the merchants for exotic seeds, gardening tools, and other things that he would need to continue his passion.
After a few months, the monks began to see that things were getting out of hand. The gardens were full to bursting and flowers were beginning to grow all over the monastery grounds. Every monk’s cell was so full of flowers that it became a danger even to light a candle by which to read their prayer books. As the situation began to become dire, the abbot and each of the other brothers in turn would attempt to speak to Brother Timothy about it. At first, they were pretty gentle and understand about it, quietly suggesting that he cut back the planting a little or maybe spend more time growing fruits or something like that … each time Brother Timothy would promise to curb his efforts and stay more out of the way, and each time it seemed he would redouble his efforts to plant even MORE flowers! After the first year, every inch of the grounds were covered. After the second year, the flowers were bursting through every window and door of the monastery’s buildings. In the third year, they were invading the wine cellars and that was now TOO MUCH!
“What can we do, we’ve all spoken to him!” complained one of the friars.
“He won’t stop, regardless of what he says, he plants more and more!”
The abbot considered for a moment and came to the realization that this might just be the devil’s work. “There is only one solution.” He declared. “We must kill him.”
There was surprisingly little resistance to this conclusion. Since they had no weapons and had no experience in the visceral act of actually killing a person, they came up with an unusual plan. They decided the bring a cow up to the tall tower and when the young monk approached the gate upon returning from the port, they would push the cow out of the tall tower to fall upon him and thus he would expire.
It was a feat to drag that poor animal all the way there, but by now they were all committed to the task. As the young Brother approached, they gave the animal a heave, but the poor cow fell to its death for naught. They miscalculated and the bovine landed mere INCHES in front of Brother Timothy! Incredulously, he took no notice and side stepped the corpse and headed directly inside to return to his passion with his new supplies.
“Crap. That didn’t work.” Intoned the abbot. “Seems the trouble is that the cow is too heavy and we’ve misjudged his rate of decent. We’ll try again next month, but this time with a goat.”
They hated having to wait for another month, as they were positively inundated with flowers! But, the next month arrived and as Brother Timothy approached once again returning from his month journey to the port, they were ready with the goat. They heaved the goat out, but the goat wriggled and turned and found purchase on the wall. Like the surest footed of wild mountain goats, this creature escaped death by maneuvering himself from narrow stone to edge of the wall and safely down. So too did our young friar escape death as the goat did not, in fact, fall upon him.
“RATS! Exclaimed the abbot, echoing the sentiments of the other brothers. Right size animal, but too nimble! The thought and talked, talked and thought some more. Finally, it was decided to try a sheep. They settled on a female sheep and the horns of a ram may not have had the correct aerodynamic shape and they did NOT want to miss again!
So, they dragged the ewe up to that self same tower and as Brother Timothy approached, the right wind, the right time, the right effort lead to success. The sheep landing upon the young brother crushing man, seed sacks, and garden pots alike. Brother Timothy was no more.
The moral of the story?
Only ewe can prevent florist friars.
One day a young monk arrived to join the other brothers in their life of prayer and solitude. The abbot spoke with him gently and discovered that Brother Timothy (the new friar) was a pious young man who seemed as if he would fit in well with the austere life of the monastery. His only request was that he be allowed to continue to cultivate flowers. You see, Brother Timothy was a talented florist who could encourage any flower to grow in even the harshest conditions. He considered his ability to be a gift from God and that continuing this activity was a testament to Him. The abbot agreed that as long as he didn’t slack in his duties, he could grow all of the flowers he wished. In fact, the idea rather pleased the abbot as it would lend a degree of cheer to the friars’ somewhat dreary lives.
So it all started out well enough. Brother Timothy was as diligent in his chores and tasks as any of the most seasoned monks. He did find the time to grow flowers and soon the monastery’s gardens were a riot of color and pleasant smells. Brother Timothy even potted a few plants and distributed them to the other friars so that each would have a bit of God’s glory to cheer there plain cells. About once a month, Brother Timothy would travel to the seaport to trade with the merchants for exotic seeds, gardening tools, and other things that he would need to continue his passion.
After a few months, the monks began to see that things were getting out of hand. The gardens were full to bursting and flowers were beginning to grow all over the monastery grounds. Every monk’s cell was so full of flowers that it became a danger even to light a candle by which to read their prayer books. As the situation began to become dire, the abbot and each of the other brothers in turn would attempt to speak to Brother Timothy about it. At first, they were pretty gentle and understand about it, quietly suggesting that he cut back the planting a little or maybe spend more time growing fruits or something like that … each time Brother Timothy would promise to curb his efforts and stay more out of the way, and each time it seemed he would redouble his efforts to plant even MORE flowers! After the first year, every inch of the grounds were covered. After the second year, the flowers were bursting through every window and door of the monastery’s buildings. In the third year, they were invading the wine cellars and that was now TOO MUCH!
“What can we do, we’ve all spoken to him!” complained one of the friars.
“He won’t stop, regardless of what he says, he plants more and more!”
The abbot considered for a moment and came to the realization that this might just be the devil’s work. “There is only one solution.” He declared. “We must kill him.”
There was surprisingly little resistance to this conclusion. Since they had no weapons and had no experience in the visceral act of actually killing a person, they came up with an unusual plan. They decided the bring a cow up to the tall tower and when the young monk approached the gate upon returning from the port, they would push the cow out of the tall tower to fall upon him and thus he would expire.
It was a feat to drag that poor animal all the way there, but by now they were all committed to the task. As the young Brother approached, they gave the animal a heave, but the poor cow fell to its death for naught. They miscalculated and the bovine landed mere INCHES in front of Brother Timothy! Incredulously, he took no notice and side stepped the corpse and headed directly inside to return to his passion with his new supplies.
“Crap. That didn’t work.” Intoned the abbot. “Seems the trouble is that the cow is too heavy and we’ve misjudged his rate of decent. We’ll try again next month, but this time with a goat.”
They hated having to wait for another month, as they were positively inundated with flowers! But, the next month arrived and as Brother Timothy approached once again returning from his month journey to the port, they were ready with the goat. They heaved the goat out, but the goat wriggled and turned and found purchase on the wall. Like the surest footed of wild mountain goats, this creature escaped death by maneuvering himself from narrow stone to edge of the wall and safely down. So too did our young friar escape death as the goat did not, in fact, fall upon him.
“RATS! Exclaimed the abbot, echoing the sentiments of the other brothers. Right size animal, but too nimble! The thought and talked, talked and thought some more. Finally, it was decided to try a sheep. They settled on a female sheep and the horns of a ram may not have had the correct aerodynamic shape and they did NOT want to miss again!
So, they dragged the ewe up to that self same tower and as Brother Timothy approached, the right wind, the right time, the right effort lead to success. The sheep landing upon the young brother crushing man, seed sacks, and garden pots alike. Brother Timothy was no more.
The moral of the story?
Only ewe can prevent florist friars.
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