As Elbert Hubbard famously said, “Don’t take life too seriously; you will never get out of it alive.”
Here are a few of the gems that have kept me smiling over the years. Please do email me your favorites for inclusion here.
A true story from the pages of the Manchester Evening Times
Last Wednesday a passenger in a taxi heading for Salford station leaned over to ask the driver a question and gently tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. The driver screamed, lost control of the cab, nearly hit a bus, drove up over the curb and stopped just inches from a large plate window. For a few moments everything was silent in the cab. Then, the shaking driver said “are you OK? I’m so sorry, but you scared the daylights out of me.”
The badly shaken passenger apologized to the driver and said, “I didn’t realize that a mere tap on the shoulder would startle someone so badly.”
The driver replied, “No, no, I’m the one who is sorry, it’s entirely my fault. Today is my very first day driving a cab. I’ve been driving a hearse for 25 years.”
- Death is God’s way of telling you not to be such a wise guy.
- I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather.. Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.
- What happens if you get scared half to death, twice?
- Health is merely the slowest possible rate at which a person can die.
- Don’t upset me.. I’m running out of places to hide the bodies.
- I’m not afraid to die. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.
- Death is a part of life. It’s just a lot less scary and painful than the rest of it.
- I can’t live with death; he’s always leaving the toilet seat up.
- Give me immortality or give me death.
- If a person with multiple personalities threatens suicide, is that a hostage situation?
- It’s not how you die that matters. It’s who you take with you.
- Don’t run, you’ll just die tired.
- Guns don’t kill people; death kills people. It’s a proven medical fact.
- He’s not dead; he’s electroencephalographically challenged.
- Death, taxes and depression: three things you can always depend on
The graveside service just barely finished, when there was a massive clap of thunder, followed by a tremendous bolt of lightning, accompanied by even more thunder rumbling in the distance…
The little old man looked at the pastor and calmly said, ‘Well, she’s there.’
The Amigone family operates several funeral homes in and around Buffalo, NY.
“Death has something to be said for it:
There’s no need to get out of bed for it;
Whereever you may be,
They bring it to you free.”
Kingsley Amis, ‘Delivery Guaranteed’
A couple of New Jersey hunters are out in the woods when one of them falls to the ground. He doesn’t seem to be breathing, his eyes are rolled back in his head.
The other guy whips out his cell phone and calls the emergency services. He gasps to the operator: “My friend is dead! What can I do?”
The operator, in a calm soothing voice says: “Just take it easy. I can help. First, let’s make sure he’s dead.”
There is a silence, then a shot is heard. The guy’s voice comes back on the line. He says: “OK, now what?”
Hillary Clinton goes to a psychic who tells her: “Prepare yourself for widowhood … Your husband is about to die a violent death.”
Mrs. Clinton takes a deep breath and replies: “Will I be acquitted?”
*“I don’t usually pass on sad news like this, but sometimes we need to pause and remember what life is all about. There was a great loss recently in the entertainment world. Larry LaPrise, the Detroit native who wrote the song “Hokey Pokey” died last week at 83. It was especially difficult for the family to keep him in the casket. They’d put his left leg in and . . . well, you know the rest.*“I was thinking about how people seem to read the Bible a whole lot more as they get older; then it dawned on me . . they’re cramming for their final exam. George Carlin
Q: What is the definition of a will?
A: A dead giveaway.
*The difference between sex and death is, death you can do alone and nobody laughs at you.
*Do you know what the death rate around here is?
One per person.
*Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway.
*I used to eat a lot of natural foods until I learned that most people die of natural causes.
*There are two kinds of pedestrians: the quick and the dead.
*Life is sexually transmitted.
*Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.
*The doctor gave a man six months to live. The man couldn’t pay his bill, so the doctor gave him another six months.
*Why do Jewish men die before their wives? They want to.
*In light of the advent of human cloning, we must ask the hypothetical question, If you pushed your naked clone off the top of a tall building, would this be:
Merely making an obscene clone fall?
*If a person with multiple personalities threatens suicide, is it a hostage situation?
*Why is it called tourist season if we can’t shoot at them?
*Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don’t.
*Despite the cost of living, have you noticed how it remains so popular?
*Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
*I intend to live forever, so far so good.
*For sale: Parachute. Only used once, never opened, small stain.
*The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.
*Why do they sterilize needles for lethal injections?
*Why do we wait until a pig is dead to “cure” it?
*If one synchronized swimmer drowns, do the rest drown, too?
Sad news in the Culinary world
Please join me in remembering a great icon of the Entertainment community.
The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.
Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch.
The gravesite was piled high with flours.
Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.
I never knew why the reviews always panned the Dough Boy. Just as his career was flouring, they put him through the mill. No matter how you slice it, you could always butter-up to the guy, particularly if you were in a jam. It’s like he was bread to do what he did. Seems crumby that he will now rest in pieces. Goodbye doughy little one. Though they will Pillsbury you deep, you will hold a place in my heart, sandwiched between the past and the future.
Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.
The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
The Sound of AARP
Maalox and nose drops and needles for knitting, Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings, Bundles of magazines tied up in strings, These are a few of my favorite things.
Cadillacs and cataracts and hearing aids and glasses, Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses, Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings, These are a few of my favorite things.
When the pipes leak, When the bones creak, When the knees go bad, I simply remember my favorite things, And then I don’t feel so bad.
Hot tea and crumpets, and corn pads for bunions, No spicy hot food or food cooked with onions, Bathrobes and heat pads and hot meals they bring, These are a few of my favorite things.
Back pains, confused brains, and no fear of ‘sinning,’ Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinning, And we won’t mention our short shrunken frames, If we can remember our friends and their names.
When the joints ache, when the hips break, When the eyes grow dim, Then I remember the great life I’ve had, And I don’t feel so bad.
Bump in the night
A man was walking home alone late one night when he hears a…….
BUMP… BUMP… BUMP… behind him.
Walking faster he looks back, and makes out the image of an upright coffin banging its way down the middle of the street towards him
BUMP… BUMP… BUMP… Terrified, the man begins to run towards his home, the coffin bouncing quickly behind him…
faster… faster… BUMP… BUMP…. BUMP.
He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, rushes in, slams and locks the door behind him. . .
However, the coffin crashes through his door, with the lid of the coffin clapping…
clappity-BUMP… clappity-BUMP… clappity-BUMP… clappity-BUMP… on the heels of the terrified man….
Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps. . .
With a loud CRASH the coffin starts breaking down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him.
The man screams and reaches for something heavy, anything … his hand comes to rest on a large bottle of Robitussin.
Desperate, he throws the Robitussin as hard as he can at the apparition.
The coffin stops.