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Furthermore, please accept our hope for a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the imminent onset of the generally accepted renewal of the calendar year, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures — whose contributions to society have helped make America great. (This must not be taken to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country, nor that it is the only “America” in the Western Hemisphere.) Finally, such hope is offered without regard to the race, creed, color, age, country of origin, physical ability, religious faith, choice of computer platform, or sexual preference of the wished.

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This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year, or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wishee.

A young man who was a keen but amateurish guitarist wanted to help serve his church — so he offered to lead the worship.

Afterwards, one of the elders came up to him and thanked him for his efforts. He also stated that he was pleased to see that the young man was fulfilling a scriptural injunction.

“What’s that?” the young man asked, ” ‘Make a joyful noise to the Lord’?”

“No,” said the elder, ” ‘Let not your right hand know what your left hand is doing.’ “

Cats do what they want.

They rarely listen to you.

They’re totally unpredictable.

When you want to play, they want to be alone.

When you want to be alone, they want to play.

They expect you to cater to their every whim.

They’re moody.

They leave hair everywhere.

Conclusion: Cats are tiny women in little fur coats.

Dogs spend all day sprawled on the most comfortable piece of furniture in the house.

They can hear a package of food opening half a block away, but don’t hear you when you’re in the same room.

They can look dumb and lovable all at the same time.

They growl when they are not happy.

When you want to play, they want to play.

When you want to be alone, they want to play.

They leave their toys everywhere.

They do disgusting things with their mouths and then try to give you a kiss.

Conclusion: Dogs are tiny men in little fur coats!

The first time I ever presided at a sizable interecclesial gathering, I was a young brother, about 25, and I had the task of giving a welcome and an introduction to the classes that would follow, and presiding at the opening class period.

After much hustle and bustle, we were all ready to go; it was 9 am on a Saturday morning, and there were about 100 or so in attendance. I had my carefully prepared program and notes for my comments and introduction.

Everything was set — except for one thing. The speaker for the first class was late. And so we waited — which didn’t help my nerves at all! Finally, after 10 or 15 minutes, the speaker arrived. Car trouble and a wrong turn (this was a new campsite, and unfamiliar to some — so understandable).

But, now another delay. The speaker had a very large, very tall chart that needed to be affixed to the wall behind the speaker’s podium. This was done with the help of a couple of tall brothers, standing on chairs, and using a lot of masking tape while the increasingly restless audience continued to wait. So finally, after what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only about 20 minutes), we were ready to start.

By now, I had been mentally reviewing my carefully prepared notes —

realizing that I should cut them, due to the time constraints. So I was trying to do this in my mind, as I strode to the podium. “Good morning, brothers and sisters,” I began — when suddenly the whole wall chart collapsed, from the top down. It remained affixed to the wall at the bottom, but slowly the top portion collapsed forward until it had completely covered me as well as the podium where I stood. It was as thought the lights had gone out!

There were a few gasps and giggles. And there I stood. What was the prescribed method for dealing with this? I stood there sort of hoping that all would decide, on their own, to get up and leave. I waited a bit, but I heard no movement. I peeked around the edge of the chart, which was still lying across the podium. No, everyone was still there — probably waiting to see what the next “act” was going to be.

Now what? I finally decided that I couldn’t just remain there, hiding under the chart. So I gathered together all my notes, stooped down, and slid sideways like a crab, out from under the chart, until I was free and clear. “Brothers and sisters, we now call upon brother ______” and then I made a hasty retreat for a chair.

Dear Ma and Pa,

Am well. Hope you are. Tell brother Walt and brother Elmer the US ARMY beats working for old man Mullins by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before maybe all of the places are filled.

I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt & Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing.

Men got to shave but it is not so bad, they get warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc… but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, grits, greens and fatback, okra, pie, and other regular food. But tell Walt & Elmer you can always sit between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you till noon, when you get fed again.

It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk much. We go on “route marches”, which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it ain’t my place to tell him different. A “route march” is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.

The country is nice, but awful flat. The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags some. The captain Is like the school board. Majors & colonels just ride around & frown. They don’t bother you none.

This next will kill Walt & Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don’t know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk and don’t move. And it ain’t shooting back at you, like the Higgins boys at home. All you got to do is lay there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.

Be sure to tell Walt & Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get into this setup & come stampeding in.

Your loving daughter,

Gail

Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three

I was married to a widow, who was as pretty as can be.

This widow had a grown-up daughter, a girl with hair of red.

My father fell in love with her, and soon the two were wed.

This made my Dad my son-in-law, and changed my married life,

For my daughter was my mother now, ’cause she was my Father’s wife.

To complicate the matter, even though it brought me joy,

I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became a brother-in-law to Dad,

And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad…

For if he was my uncle, then that also made him brother

To the widow’s grown-up daughter, who of course was my stepmother.

My father’s wife then had a son that kept him on the run,

And he became my grandchild, ’cause he was my daughter’s son.

My wife is now my mother’s mother, and it makes me blue

Because, although she is my wife, she is my grandmother too.

If my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild

And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild —

This has got to be the strangest thing that I ever saw:

As husband of my grandmother, I am my own Grandpa!

Dialogue (two young English ladies, one slightly daft: you figure out which one!):

A.	You know that stuff that they’re selling now at the local shop?
B.	Which stuff?
A.	“I can’t believe it’s not butter!”
B.	Hmm. Oh, yes.
A.	Well, you know, I can’t believe it’s not butter.
B.	Well, yes, I believe that IS the idea.
A.	Then yesterday I went to the grocery, and I bought this other stuff, like a home brand.
B.	Yessssss.
A.	And, you know, I can’t believe it’s not “I can’t believe it’s not butter!”
B.	Hmmm. I’m losing you now.
A.	Well… you know “I can’t believe it’s not butter!”
B.	Yes, yes. You think it IS butter.
A.	No… no. I mean, you know the stuff that I can’t believe is not butter is called “I can’t believe it’s not butter!”
B.	Probably, yes… Yes!
A.	Well, I can’t believe that stuff that is NOT “I can’t believe it’s not butter!” is not “I can’t believe it’s not butter!” And I can’t believe that both the stuff that IS “I can’t believe it’s not butter!” AND the stuff that is NOT “I can’t believe it’s not butter” are both in fact not butter. And… I believe they may in fact both BE butter… in a cunning disguise. And in fact there’s a lot more butter around that we all thought there was.
B.	Yes… I see.

One of the most famous baseball comedy acts to ever take place was the following humorous exchange between Bud Abbott and Lou Costello. The words alone cannot do it justice, but it is still quite funny to read. The skit was originally done on the radio live (each and every time) until the legendary duo later included it in a movie.

The general premise behind the exchange has Costello, a peanut vendor named Sebastion Dinwiddle, talking to Abbott who is Dexter Broadhurt, the manager of the mythical St. Louis Wolves. However, before Costello can get behind the plate, Abbott wants to make sure he knows everyone’s name on the team…

A Word-for-Word Transcript

Abbott:	All right, now whaddya want?
Costello:	Now look, I’m the head of the sports department. I gotta know the baseball players’ names. Do you know the guys’ names?
Abbott:	Oh sure.
Costello:	So you go ahead and tell me some of their names.
Abbott:	Well, I’ll introduce you to the boys. You know sometimes nowadays they give ballplayers peculiar names.
Costello:	You mean funny names.
Abbott:	Nicknames, pet names, like Dizzy Dean —
Costello:	His brother Daffy —
Abbott:	Daffy Dean —
Costello:	And their French cousin!
Abbott:	Who’s that?
Costello:	Goo-fay Dean!
Abbott:	Goofay, huh? Now let’s see. We have on the bags — we have: Who’s on first, What’s on second, I Don’t Know’s on third.
Costello:	That’s what I wanna find out.
Abbott:	I say: Who’s on first, What’s on second, I Don’t Know’s on third —
Costello:	You know the fellows’ names?
Abbott:	Certainly!
Costello:	Well then who’s on first?
Abbott:	Yes!
Costello:	I mean the fellow’s name!
Abbott:	Who!
Costello:	The guy on first!
Abbott:	Who!
Costello:	The first baseman!
Abbott:	Who!
Costello:	The guy playing first!
Abbott:	Who is on first!
Costello:	Now whaddya askin’ me for?
Abbott:	I’m telling you Who is on first.
Costello:	Well, I’m asking YOU who’s on first!
Abbott:	That’s the man’s name.
Costello:	That’s who’s name?
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	Well go ahead and tell me.
Abbott:	Who.
Costello:	The guy on first.
Abbott:	Who!
Costello:	The first baseman.
Abbott:	Who is on first!
Costello:	Have you got a contract with the first baseman?
Abbott:	Absolutely.
Costello:	Who signs the contract?
Abbott:	Well, naturally!
Costello:	When you pay off the first baseman every month, who gets the money?
Abbott:	Every dollar. Why not? The man’s entitled to it.
Costello:	Who is?
Abbott:	Yes. Sometimes his wife comes down and collects it.
Costello:	Who’s wife?
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	All I’m tryin’ to find out is what’s the guy’s name on first base.
Abbott:	Oh, no — wait a minute, don’t switch ’em around. What is on second base.
Costello:	I’m not askin’ you who’s on second.
Abbott:	Who is on first.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott:	He’s on third — now we’re not talkin’ ’bout him.
Costello:	Now, how did I get on third base?
Abbott:	You mentioned his name!
Costello:	If I mentioned the third baseman’s name, who did I say is playing third?
Abbott:	No — Who’s playing first.
Costello:	Never mind first — I wanna know what’s the guy’s name on third.
Abbott:	No — What’s on second.
Costello:	I’m not askin’ you who’s on second.
Abbott:	Who’s on first.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott:	He’s on third.
Costello:	Aaah! Would you please stay on third base and don’t go off it?
Abbott:	What was it you wanted?
Costello:	Now who’s playin’ third base?
Abbott:	Now why do you insist on putting Who on third base?
Costello:	Why? Who am I putting over there?
Abbott:	Yes. But we don’t want him there.
Costello:	What’s the guy’s name on third base?
Abbott:	What belongs on second.
Costello:	I’m not askin’ you who’s on second.
Abbott:	Who’s on first.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott & Costello:	THIRD BASE!
Costello:	You got an outfield?
Abbott:	Oh yes!
Costello:	The left fielder’s name?
Abbott:	Why.
Costello:	I don’t know, I just thought I’d ask you.
Abbott:	Well, I just thought I’d tell you.
Costello:	All right, then tell me who’s playin’ left field.
Abbott:	Who is playing first…
Costello:	STAY OUTTA THE INFIELD! I wanna know what’s the left fielder’s name.
Abbott:	What’s on second.
Costello:	I’m not askin’ you who’s on second.
Abbott:	Who’s on first.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott & Costello:	THIRD BASE!
Costello:	Tell me the left fielder’s name.
Abbott:	Why.
Costello:	Because!
Abbott:	Oh, he’s center field.
Costello:	Look, you got a pitcher on this team?
Abbott:	Now wouldn’t this be a fine team without a pitcher.
Costello:	Tell me the pitcher’s name.
Abbott:	Tomorrow.
Costello:	You don’t wanna tell me today?
Abbott:	I’m tellin’ you now.
Costello:	Then go ahead.
Abbott:	Tomorrow.
Costello:	What time?
Abbott:	What time what?
Costello:	What time tomorrow are you going to tell me who’s pitching?
Abbott:	Now listen. Who is not pitching. Who is on first…
Costello:	I’ll break your arm if you say who’s on first. I wanna know what’s the pitcher’s name.
Abbott:	What’s on second.
Costello:	I don’t know.
Abbott & Costello:	THIRD BASE!
Costello:	You got a catcher?
Abbott:	Oh, absolutely.
Costello:	Tell me the catcher’s name.
Abbott:	Today.
Costello:	Today. And Tomorrow’s pitching.
Abbott:	Now you’ve got it.
Costello:	All we’ve got is a couple of days on the team.
Abbott:	Well, I can’t help that.
Costello:	Well, I’m a catcher too.
Abbott:	I know that.
Costello:	Now suppose that I’m catching, Tomorrow’s pitching on my team and their heavy hitter gets up.
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	Tomorrow throws the ball. The batter bunts the ball. When he bunts the ball, me being a good catcher, I wanna throw the guy out at first base. So I pick up the ball and throw it to who?
Abbott:	Now that’s the first thing you’ve said right.
Costello:	I don’t even know what I’m talkin’ about!
Abbott:	Well, that’s all you have to do.
Costello:	Is to throw the ball to first base?
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	Now who’s got it?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	If I throw the ball to first base, somebody’s gotta catch it. Now who caught it?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	Who caught it?
Abbott:	Naturally.
Costello:	Who?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	Naturally.
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	So I pick up the ball and I throw it to Naturally.
Abbott:	NO, NO, NO! You throw the ball to first base and who gets it?
Costello:	Naturally.
Abbott:	That’s right. There we go.
Costello:	So I pick up the ball and I throw it to Naturally.
Abbott:	You don’t!
Costello:	I throw it to who?
Abbott:	Naturally.
Costello:	THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING!
Abbott:	You’re not saying it that way.
Costello:	I said I throw the ball to Naturally.
Abbott:	You don’t — you throw the ball to Who?
Costello:	Naturally!
Abbott:	Well, say that!
Costello:	THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING! I throw the ball to who?
Abbott:	Naturally.
Costello:	Ask me.
Abbott:	You throw the ball to Who?
Costello:	Naturally.
Abbott:	That’s it.
Costello:	SAME AS YOU!! I throw the ball to first base and who gets it?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	Who has it?
Abbott:	Naturally!
Costello:	HE BETTER HAVE IT! I throw the ball to first base. Whoever it is grabs the ball, so the guy runs to second. Who picks up the ball and throws it to What, What throws it to I Don’t Know, I Don’t Know throws it back to Tomorrow — triple play.
Abbott:	Yes.
Costello:	Another guy gets up — it’s a long fly ball to Because. Why? I don’t know. He’s on third and I don’t give a darn!
Abbott:	What was that?
Costello:	I said I don’t give a darn!
Abbott:	Oh, that’s our shortstop.

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgery. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird’s chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, “I’m so sorry, Cuddles has passed away.”

The distressed owner wailed, “Are you sure? “Yes, I am sure. The duck is dead”, he replied. “How can you be so sure?” she protested. “I mean, you haven’t done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something.”

The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room, and returned a few moments later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck’s owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog and took it out, and returned a few moments later with a beautiful cat. The cat jumped up on the table and also sniffed delicately at the bird. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.

The vet looked at the woman and said, “I’m sorry, but as I said, this is

most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck.” Then the vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill that he handed to the woman. The duck’s owner, still in shock, took the bill. “$150!” she cried, “$150 just to tell me my duck is dead?!!”

The vet shrugged. “I’m sorry. If you’d taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, but what with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan…”