Clown 1: Wow, what a nice silver medal! How did you win it?
Clown 2: By singing!
Clown 1: And how did you win the gold medal?
Clown 2: By stopping!
Clown 1: I won second prize in a singing contest once!
Clown 2: Really? How many people were in the contest?
Clown 1: Two!
Clown 2: Uh huh. What did the winner sing?
Clown 1: Nothing! They just heard me sing, and they awarded him first prize!
Boy Clown : Since we met, I can't eat or drink...
Girl Clown : Why not ??
Boy Clown : I'm broke.
Boy Clown : May I hold your hand??
Girl Clown : No thanks, it isn't heavy.
Girl Clown : Who was that girl I saw you kissing last night??
Boy Clown : What time was it??
Girl Clown : Say you love me! Say you love me!
Boy Clown : Okay, "You love me"
Girl Clown : If we become engaged will you give me a ring??
Boy Clown : Sure, what's your phone number??
Girl Clown : I think the poorest people are the happiest..
Boy Clown : Then marry me and we'll be the happiest couple..
Girl Clown : Do you remember when you proposed to me? I was so overwhelmed, I couldn't speak for an hour..
Boy Clown : Yes Darling, that was the happiest hour of my life...
Girl Clown : Darling, I want to dance like this forever..
Boy Clown : Don't you ever want to improve??
Boy Clown : I love you! I love you so much, I could die for you!
Girl Clown : How soon??
Boy Clown : I would go to the end of the world for you!
Girl Clown : Yes, but would you stay there??
Boy Clown : You remind me of the sea.
Girl Clown : Because I'm wild, romantic and exciting?
Boy Clown : NO, because you make me sick.
Girl Clown : John says I'm pretty. Andy says I'm ugly. What do you think,?
Boy Clown : I agree with both. You're pretty ugly.
Boy Clown : I hate to see a girl standing in a bus when I am comfortably seated.
Girl Clown : So what do you do?
Boy Clown : I close my eyes.
Girl Clown: Do you love me?
Boy Clown: Yes, I love you.
Girl Clown: But, do you really love me?
Boy Clown: Yes, I really love you.
Girl Clown: But, do you really, truly love me?
Boy Clown: Yes! Yes, I really, truly love you! I would die for you!
Girl Clown: You’re always saying that, but you never do it.
Guests arrive, and all is going well, with the children having a wonderful
time. But, the clown has not shown up and finally, the clown calls to
report that he is stuck in traffic and will probably not make the party at
all.
The woman is very disappointed and unsuccessfully tries to entertain the
children herself. She happens to look out the window and sees one of the
bums doing cartwheels across the lawn. She watches in awe as he swings from tree branches, does midair flips and leaps high in the air.
She speaks to the other bum and says, "What your friend is doing is
absolutely marvelous. I have never seen such a thing. Do you think your
friend would consider repeating this performance for the children at the
party? I would pay him $50!"
. It's a good series. Deals with some pretty serious issues. One of the books is Preparing Your Son for Every Man's Battle
, and that's what Red Rocks is reading. But WHY?
The day I entered the saffron and patchouli-scented
Bander Newnan, the proprietor of
“Thanks.” I said, “Allergies.”
He squeezed his eyebrows together, then cleared his throat. He leaned forward in his burgundy leather chair and placed his elbows on his nature calendar desk pad. “Mrs. Palmer, here at New Haven Funeral Home, we pride ourselves in providing families of the deceased with respect, privacy, and a flawless funeral experience.”
I held up my hand to stop the ten minute narrative he would most certainly deliver. Bore me to death, I am sure. Though I was in the right place, I kind-of wanted to wait a bit. At least until the next season of Grey’s Anatomy reached finale. “Mr. Newnan, I don’t care about your policies, procedures, or your pride. This is where mom wanted her funeral, so that’s why I am here. I know she took care of everything, so I am only here to sign the paperwork and verify the details.”
He pushed away from his desk and spun around to face a small filing cabinet. He removed a manila folder with my mother’s name inked across the tab in block letters. “Ah, yes,” he said as he flipped through the papers in the file. “She ordered the Deluxe A with options C and D.” He closed the file then picked up the phone. “Excuse me,” he said, looking over at me. “Margaret?” he said into the phone. “Can you bring me the box for client W4876B? Yes, of course. Thank you.” He rested the phone on the receiver then leaned forward. “Your mother had very specific instructions.”
I snickered. Of course she did. She never lived a day without specific instructions. Her life had been one big “To Do” list. The day of her death she had a checklist and number eight, directly under “fold towels”, was “Die”. All seven items had perfect checkmarks beside them. I couldn’t bring myself to checking eight.
“Sorry,” I said. “Mom and I didn’t have the best relationship.”
“Uh-huh. As I said, she left very specific instructions – some of them unorthodox – but we vowed to grant her wishes as we aim to please our patrons.”
I wanted to remind him that dead people don’t feel pleasure anymore and that my mom would never know if he followed through, but I think it might have shocked him.
“Ah yes, here she is,” he said.
I smelled Margaret before I saw her. A bubble of patchouli oil carried her to Mr. Newnan’s desk. She handed him a blue box with a large index card on the side that had my mother’s client number neatly penned across it. Margaret pivoted around, patted me on the shoulder, then swished out the door, leaving a cumulus cloud of scent.
Mr. Newnan opened the box and removed a small tissue-wrapped object and a folded piece of notebook paper. He handed both of them to me.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I am not sure. Something your mother obviously wanted you to have.” He stood up and grabbed a Coke can from his desk. “I am going to the kitchen for another soda. Can I get you anything?”
I shook my head no, unable to imagine consuming anything in a funeral home.
I unwrapped the object and gasped when I saw the small porcelain figurine. How in the hell did she find this?
When I was six years old, my brother, Todd, gave me a porcelain statue of two shaggy dogs, one basically standing on top of the other. He found it at a yard sale and couldn’t pass it up, hoping, I’m sure, to anger my parents with its obviously questionable pose. He called it, “Humping hounds.” I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but I loved it anyway. The figurine sat next to my bed in between my Strawberry Shortcake lamp and Rainbow Brite clock. Todd was right. My parents hated it.
Two months later, Todd died in a car accident. Mom had sent him to the store for milk and he died. Things changed for my family after that. Dad became a drunk. An abusive drunk. Mom allowed it.
One day, he was in one of his stupors, and mom was arguing with him about changing the channel. He grabbed the remote and threw it across the room and it hit the mantel, crushing the picture of Todd and my dog figurine. Hundreds of pieces of memories littered the floor and mom swept them away like common garbage. I hated her for that.
I looked at the figurine in my hands. Intact. Mom wrote me a note—not in list form.
“Hi Dear.
I searched everywhere and found this at the Salvation Army on
Love,
Mom”
I opened the package of tissues and dabbed at the corners of my eyes.
“Allergies?” Mr. Newnan asked, entering the room with a fresh Coke and a package of Twinkies.
“No,” I said. “I lost my mom.”
*********************************************
Reaching the end of a job interview, the Human Resources Person asked the young MBA fresh out of MIT, "And what starting salary were you looking for?"
The candidate said, "In the neighborhood of $125,000 a year, depending on the benefits package."
The HR Person said, "Well, what would you say to a package of 5-weeks vacation, 14 paid holidays, full medical and dental, company matching retirement fund to 50% of salary, and a company car leased every 2 years - say, a red Corvette?"
The Engineer sat up straight and said, "Wow!!! Are you kidding?"
And the HR Person said, "Certainly, ...but you started it."
Enthusiaism
Dissillusionment
Panic
Search for the guilty
Punishment of the innocent
Praise and honours for the non-participants
Found at Inbox Humor!
