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This is not a self-portrait, but the similarities to one are amazing!


Sidey’s Weekend Theme has me a bit stumped.  I figure about 99% of my writing is pretty much a joke – funny or not!  Does she rally need more from me?  Not being one to shirk my duty, however, I am going to add to the misery: I will write a limerick, and then tell one of my favorite jokes.  If I can think of it.  You’ll find out if I do by continuing to read on.

This weekend theme is such a joke!
Even so –  I didn’t choke!
But when I started to dash off this quickie,
My keyboard keys got tacky and sticky!
I shouldn’t have tried to write and drink Coke!

OK!  One down, one to go!  Here is one of my favorite jokes:

It seems that St. Peter got called away from the Pearly Gates, and Jesus volunteered to step in for him, and welcome people through the Gates of heaven.  He had been there for a while, when he saw in the distance, heading toward the Gates, a very elderly man, with a long white beard.  Jesus was so thrilled to see him, that he ran toward him, and as they met, he hugged the old man, and then, eyes shining, he looked the old gentleman in the eyes, and said “PAPA?!?!” To which the old man replied in wonder, “PINOCCHIO????”


Oh, and I just remembered one other joke, an oldie but a goodie, also in the “heavenly” vein:

One day, an angel was playing his harp, and hearing a lot of raucous noise coming from below him, he cast his gaze way far down and into the gates of hell.  He noticed there was a lot of singing and laughing, dancing and frivolity, and he started to get very curious.  Hell is not supposed to be like that – it should be pure misery.  So with permission from his boss, he decided to go down and check it out.  Satan greeted him with suspicion.  What was a harp-playing, winged, and uppity angel doing down in his territory?  The angel explained that he had been given permission to come down and check things out, and then go back to heaven to report.  Satan decided to let him in, but only for one hour.  If he stayed one second past the hour, he would have to stay for eternity.  The angel assured him he would be out of there long before an hour was up. Satan ushered the angel into the noisy place that had drawn his attention.  It was a very “hot” night spot called “Sam Clam’s Disco.”  Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, even though it was a bit warm.

The angel was having such a great time, singing and dancing and playing his harp, that he stopped watching the clock.  His hour was almost up when he looked up and saw Satan leering at him.  The angel immediately jumped up and flew out of hell just in time, before he was locked in forever.  He got back up to his cloud, huffing and puffing in relief, and was greeted by one of his fellow angels, who asked him what was up (or down, as the case may be).  After explaining, the other angel nodded, and asked his friend to join him on his cloud and play with him the new harp duet he had just written.  The exhausted and relieved angel was delighted, and reached for his harp.  He could not find it – anywhere.  He searched every cloud and star and it was still nowhere to be found.  Suddenly he remembered, and he slapped his own forehead in the horrifying realization of what he had done.  His friend said, “What’s the matter?” to which the distraught angel replied, “I’m in trouble now!  I left my harp in Sam Clam’s Disco!”


Now that you have finished groaning, I will bid you adieu, and wish for you all – as you most certainly are wishing to say to me now – enough. . .!