Dart's View of Life, the Universe & Coffee
Two very old war veterans were walking down a sidewalk toward each other, both of them dragging their right foot along the ground. Neither of them was moving out of the way for the other, but they kept walking straight toward each other. Eventually they were right in front of each other, nose to nose!
One of the men says, “Shrapnel, 1942.”
The other man, not moving, says, “Dog crap, two minutes ago.”
Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the Nuts?
I told her that I’ve noticed that a year or two after a woman goes through childbirth she is likely to say, “You know, I think it would be nice if had another baby.”
I have yet to hear a guy say, “You know, I think I really want to be kicked in the balls again!”
These jokes make me laugh. They might make you laugh. Or not. Some can be considered crude, others are not politically correct, so if you are sensitive in any way, consider this your trigger warning, If you do not have a sense of humor, please bug off.
Leave a comment. Or better yet, donate one of your favorite jokes!
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A married couple in their thirties are buying their first house together. They are offered mutual mortgage life insurance polices.
Wife: “What’s this?”
Husband: “Oh it’s nothing really, we pay a small monthly fee and if one of us dies for whatever reason then the mortgage gets paid off in full. It’s quite a common policy.”
Wife: “So if I die you get the house mortgage free?”
Husband: “Yes, and of course vice versa, if I die you get the house mortgage free.”
Wife: “So, if I die, you get the house. and then what, would you re-marry?”
Husband: “Well that’s very hypothetical question, but I’m still a young man so I guess so. I would expect you to do the same if I should pass first.”
Wife: “Would you move your new bride into our house?”
Husband: “Hmm…it would be fully paid off, and it’s a very nice house, so that would seem sensible.”
Wife (through gritted teeth): “Would you and your new bride sleep in our marital bed?”
Husband: “Honey, it is an orthopedic mattress and you know I have a bad back, so yes definitely.”
Wife (now getting visibly angry): “Would you let her drive my car?”
Husband: “Well I suppose so, we just bought it.”
Wife (now absolutely furious) :”And I suppose you would also let her use my new golf clubs?”
Husband: “Certainly not! She’s left handed!”
The funeral is Thursday.
Morris and his wife Esther went to the state fair every year, and every year Morris would say, “Esther, I’d like to ride in that helicopter.” Esther always replied, “I know Morris, but that helicopter ride is fifty dollars, and fifty dollars is fifty dollars.”
One year when Esther and Morris went to the fair Morris said, “Esther, I’m 85 years old. This might be my last chance to ride that helicopter.” Esther replied, “That helicopter ride is fifty dollars, and $50 is $50”.
The pilot overheard them and said, “Folks I’ll make you a deal. I’ll take both of you for a ride. If you stay quiet for the entire ride and don’t say a word I won’t charge you a penny! If you say one word it’s fifty dollars.”
Morris and Esther agreed. The pilot did all kinds of fancy maneuvers and daredevil tricks over and over again, but still not a word.
When they landed, the pilot turned to Morris and said, “By golly, I did everything I could to get you to yell out, but you didn’t. I’m impressed!”
Morris replied, “Well, to tell you the truth, I almost said something when Esther fell out, but you know, fifty dollars is fifty dollars!”
I currently live in a very small, isolated town in Florida that is about two hours from the nearest real city. Driving here is more of a challenge for me than when I drove through Miami traffic. Sure, there were the occasional gun shots and fender benders in Miami, but the patterns were predictable, and I could find my own niche and get from point A to point B with minimal blood loss. But driving here is a true challenge.
Let’s start by discussing the roads. Almost all of them are one lane highways that circle lakes, trailer parks or golf courses and go up and down over small hills. Winding is the term some use, annoying is my term. Often, they go through huge orange groves and there are few turnoffs.
There are only two types of drivers in this county. The very old and the very bubba. You would think that would be easier than dealing with the numerous types of drivers in Miami. But it isn’t.
First is the retired people. They come from small trailer parks in the mid-west and northeast and after dying, they relocate to Florida. They play golf and bridge. Often, they try playing bridge with a nine iron, when everyone knows you need a wood. They drive large Oldsmobiles, Buicks and Pontiacs. Their top speed on the highway is about eleven miles per day. They can’t see the lines in the road so often veer from side to side. All the sides of the roads in this county have been driven over so often they are just sand now.
Then there are the bubba drivers. These are the locos, I mean the locals. They are all related to each other as evidence by the recent county law stating that if you get divorced your ex still remains your sibling. These people drive a variety of vehicles from old Camaros and Mustangs to gigantic monster pick-up trucks. They know every inch of the local roads and can drive it at 90 miles per hour at night with their lights off in a rainstorm. Until, of course, they come up behind a dead driver.
This is where I come in. As my luck will have it, when I get on a very long winding road through orange groves inevitably, I’ll get behind a deceased person driving an Oldsmobile at eleven miles per hour while veering left and right, banging the oranges off the trees on either side of the one lane highway.
OK, I can be patient. I am certainly not going to attempt to pass a weaving vehicle on a one lane winding road. I’ll just sit back and drive slowly too.
Then it happens. A Bubba pulls up behind me in a rusty Chevy truck. And when I mean behind me, I mean his front bumper is kissing my rear bumper. If a deer or bear trots out in the road and I have to hit my brakes, the hood ornament of the chevy will be lodged in my butt. Meanwhile, the Oldsmobile in front of me just ran through a trailer park car port and then back onto the road where it took down three orange trees on the other side. Yes, at eleven miles an hour.
This being Florida and summer, the next event is a hellish thunderstorm with rain so intense it chips my windshield.
During these times I long for the nice traffic of Miami, with seventeen lanes, all under construction, face eating zombies and $10 tolls every half mile.
What do I do? Not many choices. I usually slow down. Traveling eight miles an hour will infuriate the bubba behind me who will pass me, often on the left but not always. His rambling rattling truck will zoom pass me as he gains speed to pass the wandering deceased driver in front who now thinks he is in his easy boy chair trying to change stations. One or two things will happen. Either the Oldsmobile will cut into the chevy truck as he passes, and both will dive hundreds of yards into the orange grove or trailer park, and I will then speed up to 40MPH and arrive at my destination unscathed. Or as often occurs, an oncoming 18-wheel semi-trailer truck will add the Chevy truck to their hood ornament collection.
Regardless, the next time I get the urge to go anywhere I hit the Amazon Prime button instead.
Driving in the country is just not safe.
Most people don’t get pulled over by the police for speeding very often. But sometimes it happens. I have a system that dramatically improves your chances of receiving a warning instead of a ticket. Or at least get a reduced offense listed. Granted, not speeding is really the first thing you can do. Then again, there are speed traps where the limit goes from 55MPH to 25MPH suddenly. Cities make a ton of money off of the traffic infraction fines. Anyway, here are my Fourteen Steps to Avoiding a Speeding Ticket or have the the citation reduced.
Step One: Be white. I can’t emphasize this enough. Every time I got pulled over being white was an advantage. So, if at all possible, try to be white.
Step Two: Put your turn signal on and pull over right away, finding a very safe area to stop so the police officer doesn’t have to stand along the road writing you the ticket. They appreciate that.
Step Three: Turn off your engine and roll down ALL your windows , Front and back. As the officer approaches your car they will be able to see inside and know what to expect. You do not want a nervous cop, trust me.
Step Four: Get your driver’s license, registration and insurance card out. I always keep the registration and insurance card clipped together easily accessible in my glove box.
Step Five: Put your car keys on your dash board in plain sight. This let’s the police officer know you are not likely to speed off.
Step Six: Put both hands in plain sight on top of the steering wheel or even the dash. Have your driver’s license, registration and insurance card in your hands.
Step Seven: Remain calm and try to put a smile on your face. Greet the officer when he/she gets to your window.
Step Eight: Very important! When the officer arrives at your window, resist the urge to say, “I’ll like a Whopper, fries and a chocolate shake”. This is surprisingly not a time for humor.
Step Nine: Don’t start talking. Let the officer lead the conversation.
Step Ten: Don’t admit to anything!
Step Eleven: Do not whine. Do not argue. Do not deny wrongdoing. Do not beg. Be friendly and calm.
Step Twelve: If the officer offers you a warning, thank the officer profusely. Wish the officer a safe and good day.
Step Thirteen: Do not peel off and speed until you are out of the officer’s district.
Step Fourteen: Worth repeating, Try your best to be white.
-Dart
