Miscellaneous Jokes



 

Sherlock Holmes On A Campout

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson went on a camping trip. As they lay down for the night, Holmes said:

Watson, look up into the sky and tell me what you see.

Watson said, "I see millions and millions of stars."

Holmes: And what does that tell you?

Watson: Astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Theologically, it tells me that God is great and that we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, it tells me that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. What does it tell you?

Holmes: Somebody stole our tent.

Go to top
 

Flowers For The Wrong Occasion

A new business was opening, and a long-time friend of the owner decided to send flowers for the occasion. He arrived at the "grand opening," accepted a glass of champagne and a warm handshake from his host, then browsed about the room examining the many floral arrangements and potted plants. Finally, he happened upon his own offering, only to find an attached card bearing this sentiment: "Rest in Peace"

Embarrassed and irate at the florist's error, he phoned to lodge a complaint. After venting his anger in a lengthy tirade, he waited impatiently for the florist's explanation.

"Sir, I'm really sorry for the mistake, but rather than getting angry.... imagine this: Somewhere a funeral is taking place today, and they have a lovely floral spray with an attached note saying:

"Congratulations on Your New Location!"

Go to top
 

Thanksgiving in England

In a radio interview I heard a year or two ago, an American and a UK journalist were discussing Thanksgiving. The American asked if we celebrated Thanksgiving in the UK.

"Yes," the UK guy replied, "but we celebrate it on the 6th of September."

"Why then?"

"That's when they left."

Go to top
 

Reporter and Airplane Pilot

The scene is a newspaper office. The editor says to one of his reporters: There's a fire raging out of control west of town and I want you to get out there fast. And above all, get some good shots. If that means you have to hire an airplane, just do it. Don't worry about the expense.

So, the reporter calls the local FBO and orders a plane. He rushes out to the airport, spots a small aircraft with a young pilot in it, pulls open the door, jumps in and says to the pilot: Let's go, take off. As directed, the pilot takes off, gets up to altitude, and the reporter then tells him, "See that fire raging to the west? I want you to fly over that and get down as close as you can."

Incredulous, the pilot says, "You want me to fly over that fire?" "Sure," the reporter says, "I am a photojournalist and that's why I am here--to take dramatic shots of the fire!" The pilot looks over with a quizzical look on his face and says, "You're not the flight instructor?"

Go to top

Oreos

Every second lieutenant acquires embarrassing memories when he wears gold bars; it seems to come with the job.

The first time the Air Force sent me on temporary duty by myself, I experienced probably the most embarrassing moment in my life, which I tell here in hopes that other butter bars out there won't make the same mistake.

I was traveling from Wright-Patterson AFB OH to Vandenberg AFB CA one spring, and the flight scheduled me for a two-hour layover in the St. Louis MO airport. I decided to hit the snack bar and bought a cup of coffee, a package of Oreos and a newspaper. After giving the cashier the nine bucks or so these items cost, I scanned the crowded sitting area for a place to relax. The lounge was crowded, but there appeared to be a spot across from a fellow in a military uniform of some sort. "Great!" I thought, "another soldier. Maybe he can tell me about life in the forces..."

With my coffee on the right side of the table, my newspaper on the left and my Oreos in the center, I sat down before I took my first close look at the man opposite me. He was a Marine corps brigadier general -- a mean-looking man with no hair, an real-life scar on his forehead and about six rows of ribbons, including the Silver Star with a cluster. To me, the general had horns, fangs, a pitchfork and a long, pointed tail as well.

I was already committed to using the table, but not wanting to bother the general, I meekly squeaked out, "Good morning, sir," before sitting down.

I had begun the paper's crossword puzzle and was making good progress when I heard a peculiar rustling sound, much like the crinkling of cellophane.

I looked up out of the corner of my eye to discover the general had reached across the center of the table, opened the package of Oreos, taken out one and was eating it. Now, not having attended the Air Force Academy, I was not familiar with how to deal with the finer points of military etiquette, such as what to do when a senior member of another service calmly rips off one of your cookies. Several responses came to mind, but none of these seemed entirely appropriate.

I realized that the honor of the Air Force was, in a small way, at stake here. I certainly couldn't let the general think I was a complete weenie. Besides, at airport prices, one Oreo is a significant fraction of take-home pay for a second lieutenant. The only response I could make was to reach across the center of the table, open the opposite end of the package (trying not to notice that the other end had mysteriously come open somehow), extract an Oreo and eat it very, very thoroughly.

"There," I thought, "I've subtly shown the General that these are my Oreos, and he should go buy his own."

Marines are known for many qualities, but subtlety is not among them. The general calmly reached out for another Oreo and ate it. (By the way, the general was licking the middles out first before eating the cookies.) Not having said anything the first time, of course, I couldn't bring it up now. The only thing to do was to take another cookie for myself. We wound up alternating through the entire package. For an instant our eyes met, and there was palpable tension in the air, but neither of us said a word.

After I had finished the last Oreo, they announced something over the public address system. The general got up, put his papers back into his briefcase, picked up the now empty wrapper, threw it away, brushed the few crumbs neatly off the table and left. I sat there marveling at his gall and feeling very foolish.

A few minutes later, they announced my flight.

I felt a great deal more foolish when I finished my coffee, threw the cup away and lifted my newspaper to reveal... my Oreos!

Today, two of us are running around the Armed Forces telling the same story, but only one of us has the punch line. And general, if you are reading this, get in touch with me and I will be glad to send you a case of Oreos.

Go to top

Continue