The Daily Parker

Politics, Weather, Photography, and the Dog

Joke: Polly's passing

A woman brought a very limp parrot into a veterinary surgeon. As she lay 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. Polly has passed away."

The distressed owner wailed, "Are you sure? 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, shrugged, turned and left the room. He returned a few moments later with beautiful black Labrador. As the bird's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the dead parrot from top to bottom. He then looked at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet led the dog out, but returned a few moments later with a lovely Siamese cat.

The cat jumped up and also sniffed delicately at the ex-bird. The cat sat back, shook its head, meowed and ran out of the room. The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry; but as I said, your parrot is most definitely, 100 percent certifiably dead."

He then turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill which he handed to the woman. The parrot's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried. "$150 just to tell me my bird is dead?!"

The vet shrugged. "If you'd taken my word for it, the bill would only have been $20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan..."

Submitted by reader B.P.

Joke: The Jewish Samurai

Back in the time when the Samurai were important, there was a powerful emperor who needed a new chief Samurai, so he sent out a declaration throughout the land that he was searching for one. A year passed, and only 3 people showed up: A Japanese Samurai. A Chinese Samurai. A Jewish Samurai.

The emperor asked the Japanese Samurai to come in and demonstrate why he should be the chief Samurai. The Japanese Samurai opened a matchbox, and out popped a bumblebee. Whoosh went his sword, and the bumblebee dropped dead on the ground in 2 pieces. The emperor exclaimed: "That is impressive!"

The emperor then issued the same challenge to the Chinese Samurai for him to come in and demonstrate why he should be chosen. The Chinese Samurai also opened a matchbox, and out buzzed a bumblebee. "Whoosh, whoosh" went his sword, and the bumblebee dropped dead on the ground in four small pieces. The emperor exclaimed: "That is really VERY impressive!"

Next the emperor turned to the Jewish Samurai, and asked him also to demonstrate why he should be the head Samurai. The Jewish Samurai also opened a matchbox, and once again out flew a bumblebee. His flashing sword went "Whoosh, whoosh." But the bumblebee was still alive and flying around. The emperor, obviously disappointed, asked: "After all of that, why is this bumblebee not dead?"

The Jewish Samurai just smiled and said: "Circumcision is not meant to kill."

Submitted by reader M.B.

Joke: Message for the Manager

A very attractive lady goes up to a bar in a pub. She gestures alluringly to the bartender who comes over immediately. When he arrives, she seductively signals that he should bring his face closer to hers.

When he does she begins to gently caress his full beard. "Are you the manager?" she asks, softly stroking his face with both hands.

"Actually, no," the man replied.

"Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him" she says, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.

"I'm afraid I can't," breathes the bartender. "Is there anything I can do?

"Yes, there is. I need you to give him a message," she continues, running her forefinger across the bartender's lips and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.

"What should I tell him?" the bartender manages to say.

"Tell him," she whispers, "there is no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room."

Submitted by reader B.P.

Joke: Zebediah

Zebediah was in the fertilized egg business. He had several hundred young layers, called pullets, and eight or ten roosters, whose job was to fertilize the eggs.

Zeb kept records, and any rooster that didn't perform well went into the soup pot and was replaced. That took an awful lot of Zeb's time; so, Zeb got a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone so that Zeb could tell, from a distance, which rooster was performing. Now he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report simply by listening to the bells.

Zeb's favorite rooster was old Brewster. A very fine specimen he was, too. But on this particular morning, Zeb noticed that Brewster's bell had not rung at all! Zeb went to investigate.

The other roosters were chasing pullets, bells a-ringing. The pullets, hearing the roosters coming, would run for cover. But, to Zeb's amazement, Brewster had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one. Zeb was so proud of Brewster that he entered him in the county fair.

Brewster was an immediate sensation The judges not only awarded him the No Bell Piece Prize but also the Pulletsurprise.

Submitted by reader C.K.

Humor: It's a Job

My job involves driving a van around neighborhoods looking for customers. You see, most people are too embarrassed to call for help, even when the problem gets so bad that they have trouble living in their house. So I cruise around areas, looking for certain signs that might indicate a problem, sometimes calling into the dispatcher in case someone has the courage to admit they need help. It's a decent job, somewhat humbling for me with all my degrees and experience. Still, it pays well and the work isn't hard, just a little dull. And, of course, just a touch surreal. All this is going through my head as I drive through the affluent suburbs around Syracuse.

One sunny Saturday morning, the dispatcher sends me to a nice neighborhood in Manlius. As I pull into the driveway, I see the signs. Oh yeah. They're pretty clear: This house has a problem. A big one. But maybe it's just on the outside. I've got solutions for external problems. It's when they go inside that things get much more tricky. I'd better go in, take a look around, let them know the professional has arrived, see how bad the problem really is.

"Thank God you're here!" the obviously relieved woman of the house says, letting me in. "We weren't sure what to do. I mean, they're everywhere, and we thought maybe they'd just leave after a few days. But…"

"They didn't. They just kept spreading, and more showed up, and you thought 'This can't be happening'. But it was, and it is. Right?" I keep a straight face, knowing she's really upset and she needs me to be a Professional about this.

"Yes, exactly. And then I remembered…" She tells me a long story about how she knows someone who knows someone who had this problem last year, and they called my company, and we took care of it. Quickly, discreetly, efficiently.

"Ma'am, I'm glad you called." I look into the living room. There's one on the TV, several nesting on the couch, one sitting on a lamp, a family walking into the bathroom—must be time to train the little ones about water. And then the clincher: A young boy walks by, looking sad and defeated. There's a white duck on his head, looking quite self-assured and in charge.

"Yep, you've got a duck problem here. Fortunately, I'm a professional; I can help you. Just take your family out for a few hours and I'll take care of everything." And she leaves, so relieved, and I head out to the van to get the tools I'll need.

Yeah, this is my job, and I'm not proud of it, but when I can see how much I'm needed by people, I don't feel quite so silly. I feel powerful, useful, needed.

My name is Glenn Hamilton, and I'm a professional duck exterminator.

Submitted by reader S.P.

Joke: Four Jewish sons

Four Jewish brothers left home for college, became doctors and prospered. Some years later, chatting after a Chanukah dinner, they discussed the gifts that they were able to give to their elderly mother.

The first said, "I had a big house built for Mama."

The second said, "I had a hundred thousand dollar theater built in the house."

The third said, "I had my Mercedes dealer deliver her an SL600 with a chauffeur."

The fourth said, "Listen to this. You know how Mama loves reading the Torah and you know she can't see very well. I sent her a parrot that can recite the entire Torah. It took twenty rabbis 12 years to teach him. I had to pledge to contribute $100,000 a year for twenty years to the temple, but it was worth it. Mama just has to name the chapter and verse and the parrot will recite it."

Soon thereafter, Mom sent out her Thank You notes. She wrote: "Milton, the house you built is so huge. I live in only one room, but I have to clean the whole house. Thanks so much."

"Marvin, I am too old to travel. I stay home, I have my groceries delivered, so I never use the Mercedes...and the driver is a Nazi. A million thanks."

"Menachim, you give me a theater with Dolby sound, it could hold 50 people, but all my friends are dead, I've lost my hearing and I'm nearly blind. Thanks anyway."

"Dearest Melvin, you were the only son to have the good sense to give a little thought to your gift. Such a delicious chicken."

Submitted by reader W.G.

Joke: the Fetishist

Out in farm country, old Nigel had a different sort of fetish. Every so often he would sneak into a neighbor's farm and go joyriding on a tractor.

After a few of these nocturnal jaunts, which usually resulted in a destroyed farm implement, his neighbors figured out what was happening. A mob of angry farmers chased him halfway around the county, and finally catching him, they beat him badly enough to put him in a wheelchair.

All Nigel could do was look wistfully at the tractors tilling the fields from afar.

But one day, a fire broke out in a neighbor's barn. The smoke was so thick the firefighters couldn't see the flames.

Seeing this, Nigel wheeled over, hopped off the chair, climbed up to the top of the barn, stuck his head in a hole in the roof, sucked out all the smoke, and blew it downwind of the barn.

His neighbors were shocked. One asked him, "How did you do that?"

"Easy," said Nigel. "I'm an ex-tractor fan."

Submitted by reader J.C.

Joke: Sisters of Silence

Sister Mary Katherine entered the Monastery of Silence. The Priest said, "Sister, this is a silent monastery. You are welcome here as long as you like, but you may not speak until I direct you to do so".

Sister Mary Katherine lived in the monastery for 5 years before the Priest said to her, "Sister Mary Katherine, you have been here for 5 years. You may speak two words."

Sister Mary Katherine said, "Hard bed."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the Priest said, "We will get you a better bed."

After another 5 years, Sister Mary Katherine was called by the Priest. "You may say another two words, Sister Mary Katherine."

"Cold food," said Sister Mary Katherine. The Priest assured her that the food would be better in the future.

On her 15th anniversary at the monastery, the Priest again called Sister Mary Katherine into his office. "It is your 15th Anniversary here, Sister. You may say two words today."

"I quit," said Sister Mary Katherine.

"It's probably best," said the Priest, "You've done nothing but bitch since you got here."

Submitted by reader M.B.

Humor: Maryland vocabulary

Gina comes from Hard Canny, Merlin.

If you've grown up or lived in Maryland for any part of your life, you'll find this hits rather close to home.

Maryland is divided into semi-tribal areas called Cannies (i.e., "counties"; e.g., Ballmer Canny, PeeJee Canny, Hard Canny, etc.).

The dialect area is centered on a market center called Glimburny (Glen Burnie), where the people come on weekends to trade their goods.

Speakers of Merlin dialect are all able to understand standard English from babyhood, chiefly because of their voracious appetite for television.

However, they invariably refuse to speak standard English, even with outsiders who obviously are not understanding a word they say.

Lesson 1: Vocabulary

Arn
what you do to wrinkled clothes
Allanic
an ocean
Arnjuice
from the sunshine tree
Arouwn in all directions
norf, souf, ees, and wess
Avnew
what you call a street
Aspern
what you take for headaches
Bald
some people like their eggs this way
Ballmer
Our City
Bawler
what the plumber calls your furnace
Beeno
a famous railroad
Beero
where you put your clothes
Bulled Egg
An egg cooked in water
Brawl
Broil
Bowin'
ten pins & 3 balls
Calf Lick
bleevers are Protestant, Jewish, and ...
Canny
a state gubmit division, such as Anne Arundel or Prince George's
Chest Peak
A large nearby body of water
Colleyflare
A white vegetable
Downey Owe Shin
Summertime destination "Down to the ocean," often to a place such as Ayshun City
Droodle Pork
Druid Hill Park
Flares
Such as tulips
Faren Gins
Red trucks that put out fires
Hi Hon
How we always say "hello"
Holandtown
Highland Town
Jeet
How we say "Did you eat?"
Lyeberry
where the books are
Meedjum
The grassy area between lanes of a highway
Merlin
Our State
Nap Lis
State of Merlin capital
Nattie Boh
beer that goes great with steamed crabs
Ole Bay
What our crabs taste like
Oreos
Not a cookie, but our baseball team
Payment
That strip of cement that you walk on
Paramore
Power mower
Pitcher
what's hangin in the frame on the wall
PohLeese
Those guys in uniform that git ya when you're speeding
Share
Hot water that cleans you in the morning
Sem elem
Seven Eleven
Stoop
where you sit on a summer evenin
Tarred
What you get when you work too hard
Warsh
What we do with dirty clothes
Warder
What we drink (can also be Wooter)
Winders
Those glass things that we look out of
Warshinton DeeCee
Capitol of America
Zinc
where you warsh yer dishes

Submitted by reader G.B.

Joke: the Lone Ranger

The Lone Ranger was ambushed and captured by an enemy Indian war party. The Indian Chief proclaims, "So, you are the great Lone Ranger. In honor of the Harvest Festival, you will be executed in three days. But, before we kill you, I will grant you three requests. What is your first request?"

The Lone Ranger responds, "I'd like to speak to my horse." The Chief nods and Silver is brought before the Lone Ranger, who whispers in Silver's ear, and the horse gallops away.

Later that evening, Silver returns with a beautiful blond woman on his back. As the Indian Chief watches, the blond enters the Lone Ranger's tent and spends the night. The next morning the Indian Chief admits he's impressed: "You have a very fine and loyal horse, but we will still kill you in two days. What is your second request?"

The Lone Ranger again asks to speak to his horse. Silver is brought to him and he again whispers in the horse's ear. As before, Silver takes off across the plains and disappears over the horizon.

Later that evening, to the Chief's surprise, Silver again returns, this time with a voluptuous brunette, even more attractive than the blonde. She enters the Lone Ranger's tent and spends the night. The following morning the Indian chief is again impressed. "You are indeed a man of many talents, but we will still kill you tomorrow. What is your last request?"

The Lone Ranger responds, "I'd like to speak to my horse, alone." The Chief is curious, but he agrees and Silver is brought to the Lone Ranger's tent. Once they're alone, the Lone Ranger grabs Silver by both ears, looks him square in the eye and says, "Listen very carefully—for the last time, I said: 'BRING POSSE!'"

Submitted by reader M.B.