Monday, December 28, 2009

Funny Bone Monday

Happy Funny Bone Monday! It's good to be home! And in honor of my grandmother, whom I loved dearly, because she loved a good joke, today will be funeral humor! She would appreciate these if she were still alive.


Mule for Sale?
An old hillbilly farmer had a wife who nagged him unmercifully. From morning till night (and sometimes later), she was always complaining about something. The only time he got any relief was when he was out plowing with his old mule. He tried to plow a lot.

One day, when he was out plowing, his wife brought him lunch in the field. He drove the old mule into the shade, sat down on a stump, and began to eat his lunch. Immediately, his wife began haranguing him again. Complain, nag; - it just went on and on. All of a sudden, the old mule lashed out with both hind feet; caught her smack in the back of the head.

Killed her dead on the spot.

At the funeral several days later, the minister noticed something rather odd. When a woman mourner would approach the old farmer, he would listen for a minute, then nod his head in agreement; but when a man mourner approached him, he would listen for a minute, then shake his head in disagreement.

This was so consistent, the minister decided to ask the old farmer about it. So after the funeral, the minister spoke to the old farmer, and asked him why he nodded his head and agreed with the women, but always shook his head and disagreed with all the men.

The old farmer said, "Well, the women would come up and say something about how nice my wife looked, or how pretty her dress was, so I'd nod my head in agreement."

"And what about the men?" the minister asked.

"They wanted to know if the mule was for sale."

Dog for Sale?
A woman was drinking her morning coffee when she noticed a most unusual funeral procession approaching the nearby cemetery. A long black hearse was followed by a second long black hearse about 50 feet behind. Behind the second hearse was a solitary woman walking a pit bull dog on a leash. Behind her were 200 women walking single file.

The woman couldn't stand the curiosity. She respectfully approached the woman walking the dog and said, "I am so sorry for your loss, and I know now is a bad time to disturb you, but I've never seen a funeral like this. Whose funeral is it?"

The woman replied, "Well, that first hearse is for my husband."

"What happened to him?"

The woman replied, "My dog attacked and killed him."

She inquired further, "Well, who is in the second hearse?"

The woman answered, "My mother-in-law. She was trying to help my husband when the dog turned on her."

A poignant and thoughtful moment of silence passes between the two women.

"Get in line"

The Blue Suit
Margaret is very upset as her husband Albert had just passed away. She went to the undertakers to have one last look at her dearly departed husband. The instant she saw him she starts crying. One of the undertakers strides up to provide comfort in this somber moment. Through her tears she explains that she is upset because her dearest Albert was wearing a black suit, and it was his dying wish to be buried in a blue suit.

The undertaker apologizes and explains that traditionally, they always put the bodies in a black, but he'd see what he could arrange. The next day she returned to the undertakers to have one last moment with Albert before his funeral the following day. When the undertaker pulls back the curtain, she manages to smile through her tears as Albert is resplendent in a smart blue suit.

She says to the undertaker "Wonderful, wonderful, but where did you get that beautiful blue suit?"

"Well, yesterday afternoon after you left, a man about your husband's size was brought in & he was wearing a blue suit. His wife explained that she was very upset as he had always wanted to be buried in a black suit," the undertaker replied.

The wife smiled at the man.

He continued, "After that, it was simply a matter of swapping the heads"

All three are from the Jokester


A funeral service is being held in a synagogue for a woman who has just passed away. At the end of the service the pallbearers are carrying the casket out, when they accidentally bump into a wall jarring the casket. They hear a faint moan. They open the casket and find that the woman is actually alive. She lives for ten more years and then dies. A ceremony is again held at the same synagogue and at the end of the ceremony the pallbearers are again carrying out the casket. As they are walking the husband cries out, "Watch out for the wall!"

An old man and woman were married for years even though they hated each other. When they had a confrontation, screams and yelling could be heard deep into the night. A constant statement was heard by the neighbors who feared the man the most. "When I die I will dig my way up and out of the grave to come back and haunt you for the rest of your life!" They believed he practiced black magic and was responsible for missing cats and dogs, and strange sounds at all hours. He was feared and enjoyed the respect it garnished. He died abruptly under strange circumstances and the funeral had a closed casket. After the burial, the wife went straight to the local bar and began to party as if there was no tomorrow. The gaiety of her actions were becoming extreme while her neighbors approached in a group to ask these questions: Are you not afraid? Concerned? Worried? that this man who practiced black magic and stated when he died he would dig his way up and out of the grave to come back and haunt you for the rest of your life? The wife put down her drink and said. . . "let the old man dig. I had him buried upside down."

WHEN my grandmother died, we traveled to a tiny country cemetery to bury her beside my grandfather. Among those attending the funeral was a shabby figure in a dark, crumpled suit - too hot for the blazing August day. A dilapidated felt hat was clutched to his chest and tears followed the furrows of unshaven cheeks. His name was Billy, and he had lived on the farm next to my grandparents. It was poor land. His family often went hungry, but they were proud and Billy used to carry an empty lunch pail to school rather than let anyone know there was no food at home. He called for my father some mornings, setting his empty pail on the kitchen table where Grandmother was busily filling the family lunch pails. She would slyly fill his pail, too, and at school my father never noticed that Billy's lunch was the same as his. She never told of the empty lunch pail and neither did Billy. But he tramped the eight kilometers to her graveside, still poor, still hungry, but determined to pay his last respects to Grandmother, who had filled his lunch pail but left his pride intact.

OUR priest suddenly became ill and asked his twin brother, also a priest, to fill in for him and conduct a funeral Mass scheduled for that day. His brother, of course, agreed. It was not until the brother was accompanying the casket down the aisle, however, that he realized that he had neglected to ask the sex of the deceased. This was information that he would need for his remarks during the service. As he approached the first pew where the deceased's relatives were seated he nodded toward the casket and whispered to one woman, "Brother or sister?" "Cousin," she replied.

A MUSICIAN had given orders that when he died, his flute was to be buried with him. "What did you think, madam:" a friend asked the widow. "Well," she replied, "I thought it a blessing he didn't play the piano."

ONE evening my husband and I were talking about our wills. I asked him, if he should go first, what funeral arrangements he would like. He told me he wanted to be cremated and have his ashes scattered over Catalina Island. "Why Catalina?" I asked. "Why? Because I've never been there before."

MORTICIAN Dale Russon tells what happened to him on his way to one funeral: When I pulled up to a curb, my rear wheel dropped off the edge of the road and into a drain, causing the car to become stuck. Since I was already late, I rushed over to the trunk, got out my jack and started to raise the car out of the drain. At the motion of the jack, the trunk lid snapped down, catching me square on the head. At that point I decided I'd better call the funeral home and have them start the services without me. Blood was running down my face, dripping on my suit, and I was going to have to change my clothes. I stepped into the nearest building and asked the receptionist to call the Russon Brothers Mortuary for me. She looked at me and said, "Buddy, you're hurt, but you aren't hurt that bad."

Found these at Becquet

This one's for my grandmother, who's now living the very best!

An old woman had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and given only days to live. But when the pastor thought they were done and he got up to leave, the lady said she had one more request – she would like to be buried with a fork in her hand.

Needless to say, the pastor asked her why. So, she explained. She said, “In all the years I have attended dinners in the community and at church, many times one of the instructions to the diners as the dinner plates were taken away, was “Keep your fork.” And, that always told me that there would be some wonderful dessert on the way – the best was yet to come!

“And, because I am a Christian, I know that when my life ends, the best is yet to come!“ So, I want to be buried with a fork in my hand, so that those who come to the wake will ask “Why is she holding a fork?” And, my family can tell them, “Because she knew the best was yet to come!”

The first funeral I ever went to was a black funeral for a friend's cousin. It was the most emotional service I ever attended. I seriously did not expect the preacher to sing the service, but it was very cool. My grandmother's Catholic service was completely different. Also cool. A beautiful setting for a beautiful woman.

Until I write again ...



Leenie said...

Hey, thanks for taking the time to put that fine collection of funeral jokes together. It is good to be reminded that there is humor in everything. I'm sure your sweet grandma is laughing along.

judi/Gmj said...

Love, Love, Love Them. I had a sore throat to start with and now it's raw but worth every gawf.
If it were me... (I so did not start this sentence with an "If") I think as well as you know the sorting of the mother's stuff is a grieving process for you mom and aunts, so many memories to share. They will let go of the stuff in time. I know I did.
know you are hugged and have lots of banana bread in my world.

Karen Deborah said...

You lost me after the head switching one but I did laugh out loud over that mule!

Glad your home.

Nancy at said...

Hey Flea, Thanks for joining me on the Daily audio Bible. Also, thanks for the great laughs here!

Anonymous said...

Hi, I just noticed that you linked to my funeral humor post with the fork story. I'm glad you liked it!

Then when I was looking around your blog I noticed that you live in Tulsa. I had never been there before our son and his family moved their a couple years ago. But now we visit a couple times a years and have come to really enjoy that part of the country!