All posts for the month January, 2004

The Harpy

Another seasonal pun posted on the shaggy dog listserv. The author is not known.

A much-maligned character of Greek mythology, a harpy (who is half predatory bird, half woman) was flying cautiously along the precipice of a cliff, wistfully gazing at the yew forests which grew at the foot of the sheer granite.

Her once-remarkable sensory powers were dulled by countless millennia. In her prime, she could clearly visualize the drops of sea foam in the beard of a distant … Read the rest...

The Coal Miner

By Bob Dvorak with an addendum by Howell Gwin

Ricky lived in one of those little boroughs that dot the hills and ridges of Pennsylvania — coal country. And he, as his father before him, and his grandfather yet earlier, was a coal miner.

It was common practice, at the end of a long week in the mines, to meet for more than a few rounds of beers up in the bar at the top of the ridge overlooking the … Read the rest...

Queen Mary II Maiden Voyage

Jim Ertner sent the following to the PUNY listserv.

As the brand-new Queen Mary 2 is about to complete her first transatlantic crossing, I’m reminded of the legendary fish that were swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. “Look at that huge cloud overhead,” said one fish to another; “there must be a big storm up there.”

“No,” rejoindered the other, “that’s just the Queen Mary’s bottom.”

“In that case,” replied the first fish, “God save the king!”… Read the rest...

The Road Hazard

From: “Clean Laffs” ; the author is not known.

Driving to work, a gentleman had to swerve to avoid a box that fell out of a truck in front of him.

Seconds later, two policemen came by. While one pulled the gentleman over, the second stopped traffic and recovered the box so as to avoid any further mishaps. When they opened the box, they found it contained large upholstery tacks.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the first trooper told the driver, “but, … Read the rest...

Sometimes I’m a Wigwam, Sometimes I’m a Tepee

This excellent and seasonal tale is by Jason Dias. It was posted to the PUNY listserv.

Ex-presidential candidate Bob Dole was at the Renaissance festival, when he saw a vendor selling very cute period tents. They were both charming and historically accurate. Ignoring the prominent `sold’ sign, he promised the vendor twice the original sale price for them.

“Sorry,” said the vendor. “I’ve already sold them to those teenagers over there. The ones dressed all in black with the scary … Read the rest...

Three Labradors

This is an ancient tale which Lowrie Beacham forwarded to me.

Three Labrador retrievers – a brown, yellow and black – are sitting in the waiting room at the vet’s office when they strike up a conversation. The black lab turns to the brown and says, “So why are you here?”

The brown lab replies, “I’m a pisser. I piss on everything — the sofa, the drapes, the cat, the kids. But the final straw was last night, when I … Read the rest...

Damn Spammerz

By Alan B. Combs

I look at my mail in a glance,
And then I am looking askance.
Via]gra! Enlargement!
Be as big as a barge-ment
Damn spammers are scanning my pants.… Read the rest...

Rising Star

A clever seasonal tale by Bob Dvorak.

Nate Cassidy was waiting for his big break. His portfolio had been sent to every studio in the book; to every producer on Broadway.

His agent finally landed him a gig. Not exactly what Nate had in mind, but it was a paying gig — dressed as the Pillsbury (R) Doughboy (TM) for a series of TV commercials.

Nonetheless, his professionalism and his ability shone through this none-too-strenuous role, and a talent scout … Read the rest...

One Flu Over

A new medically-related groaner by Lowrie Beacham. I hope it is not too autobiographical. On the other hand, it’s an ill ill that blows nose good.

During the holidays, I came down with the flu, despite having of course had the vaccine. I got that version the vaccine didn’t cover. It was rough–the quality of mercy is not in that strain. Worst was the congestion; felt like no way I could clear my throat, try as I might. I consulted … Read the rest...

In Anatevka

This is by Bob Dvorak.

Rachel comes downstairs one morning in the little house in Anatevka. Jacob is sitting in a chair in the kitchen warming his toes by the fire. “Shall I make breakfast for you, my dearest Jacob?” asks Rachel.

“But of course,” replies Jacob.

“And what of Mikhail and Aaron?” asks Rachel.

“They’ve already had their breakfast.”

“So soon? But the sun is not yet over the barn.”

Answers Jacob, “Sunrise, sons et.”… Read the rest...