Giggles and Chuckles Galore
The phone rang. It was a salesman from a mortgage refinance
company. “Do you have a second mortgage on your home?”
“No,” I replied.
“Would you like to consolidate all your debts?”
“I really don’t have any,” I said.
“How about freeing up cash for home improvements?” he tried.
“I don’t need any. I just recently had some done and paid
cash,” I parried.
There was a brief silence, and then he asked, “Are you
looking for a husband?”
**********************
According to a news report, a certain private school in
Washington was recently faced with a unique problem. A
number of 12-year-old girls were beginning to use lipstick
and would put it on in the Bathroom. That was fine, but
after they put on their lipstick they would press their
lips to the mirror leaving dozens of little lip prints.
Every night the maintenance man would remove them and the
next day the girls would put them back. Finally the
principal decided that something had to be done.
She called all the girls to the bathroom and met them there
with the maintenance man. She explained that all these lip
prints were causing a major problem for the custodian who
had to clean the mirrors every night (you can just imagine
the yawns from the little princesses).
To demonstrate how difficult it had been to clean the
mirrors, she asked the maintenance man to show the girls
how much effort was required.
He took out a long-handled squeegee, dipped it in the
toilet, and cleaned the mirror with it.
Since then, there have been no lip prints on the mirror.
**********************
Having grown up just outside New York City, I barely knew a
cow from an ear of corn. Until, that is, I married a small-
town Ohio girl. While I was in seminary school, I had a
temporary assignment at a church in a rural community. The
day of my first sermon, I tried very hard to fit in. Maybe
too hard.
With my wife sitting in the first pew, I began my discourse:
“I never saw a cow until I met my wife.”
**********************
Flying through the Midwest in the summertime means one
thing: turbulence. I was working as a flight attendant on
one particular flight when we hit a patch of very rough
air just after a young teenager, obviously on her first
flight, had entered the bathroom. After the bumps had sub-
sided, she exited the bathroom, a look of sheer terror
etched on her face.
“Are you all right?” I asked as I helped her to her seat.
“Don’t worry, that turbulence was as bad as it gets.”
“So that’s what it was,” she said. “I thought I’d pushed
the wrong button.”
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