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Courtroom Humor

Courtroom Humor

I was thinking of the court system because of the synchronicity of O.J. Simpson‘s conviction date yesterday (Acquitted of murder on October 3, 1995; 13 years later, found guilty on October 3 2008), so I was pleased to pick up a lighter resonance in a post on Facebook by my friend Craig.

It made me laugh. So I’m just passing it along in case you could use a laugh, too.

These are said to be from a book called Disorder in the American Courts. The title is a little off. It looks to me that the title is Disorder in the Court: Great Fractured Moments in Courtroom History.

Imagine hearing these things actually said in court and taken down – word for word – for the court record.

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?
WITNESS: No, I just lie there.

ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?
WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.

ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?

ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?
WITNESS: He said, ‘Where am I, Cathy?’
ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Susan!

ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?
WITNESS: We both do.
ATTORNEY: Voodoo?
WITNESS: We do.
ATTORNEY: You do?
WITNESS: Yes, voodoo.

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn’t know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?

ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: Uh, he’s twenty.

ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you shittin’ me?

ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Uh… I was gettin’ laid.

ATTORNEY: What is your date of birth?
WITNESS: July 18th.
ATTORNEY: What year?
WITNESS: Every year.

ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
WITNESS: None.
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITN SS: Are you for real? Your Honour, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?

ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?

ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS: Guess.

ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.

ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS: All my autopsies are performed on dea d people. Would you like to rephrase that?

ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral.

ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy on him!

ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Huh…are you qualified to ask that question?

And the best for last:

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

Bob Detweiler’s Obituary in the AJC

Bob Detweiler’s Obituary in the AJC

I got the notice of Bob Detweiler’s obituary just as I finished the first draft of the poem I’m going to read at the memorial service on Saturday morning. Yes, he treated each one of us as a peer, and brought out every speck of brilliance and humor that we had in us. The twinkly eyes seem to have been appreciated by all.

ST. SIMONS ISLAND
Robert Detweiler, 76, treated students as his peers

By KIRSTEN TAGAMI

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

Friday, September 05, 2008

Dr. Robert Detweiler was a dedicated scholar but he didn’t take himself too seriously. The former Emory University professor often attended his graduate students’ parties, and he loved telling jokes.

“He just had a merry twinkle in his eye. He took life in general with a certain amount of humor and detachment. He had a genuine warmth for other people,” said Dr. Robert Paul of Atlanta, dean of Emory College.

Dr. Robert Detweiler spent six years in postwar Germany helping refugee families.
Dr. Robert Detweiler spent six years in postwar Germany helping refugee families.

“He struck you as a kidder, but he worked very hard. He had a very strong record of academic publications,” said Dr. Paul, who was his colleague in the 1980s.

Dr. Detweiler, who taught comparative literature, served as the director of the Graduate Institute of the Liberal Arts at Emory from 1973 to 1982.

He became nationally recognized for his insights in the areas of religion and literature, as well as his work on authors John Updike and Saul Bellow.

His books include, “Breaking the Fall: Religious Readings of Contemporary Fiction” in 1987 and “Uncivil Rites: American Fiction, Religion, and the Public Sphere” in 1996.

Dr. Detweiler became a lifelong mentor to many of his students, guiding them in their search for jobs after graduation, said Harriette Grissom of Asheville, N.C., a former student.

“He wasn’t paternalistic about it. He always treated you as a peer, not a student,” she said.

Dr. Detweiler was born in Souderton, Pa., and was reared as a Mennonite. He earned a divinity degree from Goshen College, and after college traveled to Germany on a church-sponsored relief project to assist in the post-war rebuilding of the country. He stayed six years, helping build homes for refugee families and counseling students who had lost their families.

Former student Gary Tapp said that experience helped shape Dr. Detweiler’s outlook.

“We knew he had been through a lot in Germany. It enabled him to not take the small trials and tribulations of university life too seriously,” said Mr. Tapp, of Atlanta.

Dr. Detweiler met his wife, Gertrude Detweiler, in Germany. Although he left the Mennonite faith as an adult, he remained strongly influenced by his upbringing and enjoyed listening to Mennonite hymns.

His experiences in Germany and in his advanced studies “opened his mind but didn’t stop him from being a deeply theological thinker,” said Dr. Paul. “From his Mennonite background, he retained a communal spirit and the feeling of the sacredness of life.”

Dr. Detweiler, 76, formerly of Atlanta, died Sunday at his St. Simons Island residence after a series of strokes, his wife said.

The body was cremated. Cremation Society of the South is in charge of arrangements.

The memorial service will be Saturday at 10 a.m. at Emory University’s Canon Chapel.

Survivors other than his wife include a daughter, Bettina Detweiler of Atlanta; a son, Dirk Detweiler of Aspen, Colo.; and four grandchildren.

Old Tunes that Always Cheer Me Up

Old Tunes that Always Cheer Me Up

“The Meaning of Life” Theme – Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life




“The Masochism Tango” – Tom Lehrer




“The Elements” – Tom Lehrer




“Bruce’s Philosophers Song” – Monty Python




“Hair” – Hair




“Air” – Hair




“Once Upon a Dream” – Sleeping Beauty




“Where is Love” – Oliver




“A Little Priest” from Sweeney Todd




“Nothing’s Gonna Harm You” – Sweeney Todd




“Dance Ten, Looks Three” – A Chorus Line




“Buenos Aires” Patti LuPone, Evita




“Sweet Transvestite” – Tim Curry, Rocky Horror Picture Show




“Toucha Toucha Toucha Touch Me” – Susan Sarandon, Rocky Horror Picture Show




“Galaxy Song” – Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life



Self-Centeredness and Anthropomorphic Projection

Self-Centeredness and Anthropomorphic Projection

In which the author of this blog indulges in an freewheeling rant over a fairly trivial irritation:

Clouds!!!! Gotta get those clouds, man! They are SO DOOMED.

I KNEW IT!!!! I knew that something would interfere!

All I wanted was to see the MOON! Is there something WRONG with that?

I mean, how often do I get to see the gorgeous beautiful full moon, and during a partial eclipse too!

I had it all built up. No detachment for me. I had EXPECTATIONS. And I got Ben all excited about it too.

We all went out to see “Journey to the Center of the Earth” in 3D and it was fun. Then we went to the little airport near here and watched planes take off and ate calamari and chicken fingers and all that kind of thing. And we didn’t even mind when it started to rain, because it was muggy and the water was refreshing at first. We did eventually have to come inside… Of course, when the under-trained manager wanted to tell us where we could and couldn’t sit (the place was half-empty) I had to explain that our waiter was a bright boy and I had every confidence in the world that he could find us again. She actually persisted! So we all just sat down and I had to say in a sweet – really! – but firm tone, “we’re sitting right here.” But things were still good. They WERE.

As we drove home, I observed that the heat was steaming the recent rain right up into the air. Ben and I laughed about driving through a baby cloud. And then the sweet little bits of wispy evaporation had the NERVE to turn into cloud cover and deprive me of my moon tonight!

John crashed early, but Ben and I were determined to see that moon. Oh, we walked. Finally, we even drove. We climbed up to “top field” at his school, we went over to the grocery store area, where there were no trees. Not ONE BIT OF HINT OF THE MOON IN ANY DIRECTION!

We drove all around and I finally had to give up. We came back. Ben was mopey from the hopeless search. Where is the MOON? Where IS it?

I looked up moonrise, moonset, the direction.

Yes! Just as I thought. From our back deck, straight back into the horrible horrible woods full of huge menacing oak trees. Those trees, dropping huge limbs every time there’s a breeze, covered with purple meat-like fungus clusters, and all kinds of other unidentifiable sporey creatures.. Those TREES – always threatening to fall down and kill us, leaning toward the house with their rotten cavities gaping…. oh, they don’t like me. And I don’t like them right back. No wonder my boys can’t breathe right.

The trees often block my view of the moon, but once in a while they filter the moonlight in a charming blue-silver pattern so I try to forgive them. But it doesn’t matter WHAT I do, does it?!?! Nothing is ever good enough! I try and I try and it’s never enough to matter for anything! If I’m so damn smart why can’t I EVER EVER EVER…..

Those CLOUDS!!!!! They aren’t even pretty clouds. No individual formations are visible… it’s just a high diffuse COVER dense enough that all you can see is the pink-orange reflection of the city lights. Not a star. Not a moonbeam, not even a GLOW. Nada. Nothing. Zilch.

Ahhhh….. why is it that the universe conspires against me like this? Once in a while, can’t you choose somebody else??? I just want to be invisible. I don’t ask for much. Once in a while, can’t you be a little more F’ing BENEVOLENT? What do you WANT from me anyway? Don’t you have some peers for your reindeer games?

Bam! Bam! BAM-BAMMMM!

Blasted clouds. Stupid city where you can’t see any stars. Ridiculous pink-orange night sky. I hate it.

I hate it all. I hate this city. I hate this place. And it’s all the clouds’ fault.

WHY DID I EVER COME TO THIS PLACE?

ATLANTA? WAS I OUT OF MY MIND?

I thought I’d be here for a couple-few years, get my Ph.D., get a job at Berkeley maybe or in New England, and LEAVE. I never intended to put myself in this position forever.

And then it took forever. really. forever.

And my advisor… and then I … and I met… and I couldn’t even.. and it…. and it was suddenly too late… everything was too late… AND THESE CLOUDS ARE REALLY PISSING ME OFF!

ARGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! I can deal with people hating me for being an educated white female liberal from Massachusetts (or Massa-TWOSHITS), I can deal with every insincere “bless your heart,” and every attempt to indoctrinate my son, I can even forgive idiotic and self-righteous conformity to profoundly destructive viewpoints, but really, NOW I CAN’T EVEN SEE A FULL MOON WHEN I WANT TO?

The CLOUDS ARE OUT TO GET ME! IT’s NOT FAIR!!!!!!!! And I’m SICK of IT. Sick of it. Sick of it. And I don’t CARE that I’m being unreasonable!

I’m sick of being forgiving. I’m sick of being an adult. I want to have a gigantic tantrum, and shake the earth! Thunder! Lightning! Wind! I want to SHAKE things and scream “What is WRONG with you?” And then, “JUST DO WHAT I SAY! DON’T THINK, JUST DO IT!” ARGGGGGGG!

EVERYTHING! I Fu…

Deep breath.

Loop it. Reality check – completely missing of course, but in kind of a cute way. Liking the clouds anger. Good scapegoat target for pent-up frustration. Kind of a Peanuts “curse the darkness” thing going.

I’m gonna SMACK those clouds, man. SMACK! Right in the face. SMACK. Hee hee.

Whew. That felt great.

Gotta let it out every once in a while. I think the clouds can take it. They’re stronger than they’re given credit for.

But those clouds – and water in general – owe me one.

Let’s review, class: I can’t even get up a full rant. It didn’t even generalize completely. Still, I think we’ve covered Projection, Paranoia, Anthropomorphism, Infantile Regression, Displacement, Scapegoating, Power – Command/Control, Catharsis, Humor, Cultural Intertextuality and therefore Intellectualization, ending with light touching of Magical Thinking. Oh, right, and Self-Pity, Self-Centeredness – an overall Temper Tantrum.

Because I was denied an archetypal experience of cool serenity, the antidote to my lonely bit of nothingless in the cosmos… and yet, I am detached from it, too.

Actually, things have gotten a lot better in the last year or so. Most of this anger is just old echoing stuff that I’m actually done with now. Atlanta’s not so bad, and it’s not as if I ever really belong anywhere anyway.

I do feel better. I just hate being disappointed.

If I can’t soak up the cool moon, a homeopathic dose of fire will suffice.

Gender-based Cultural Humor

Gender-based Cultural Humor

Always a fount of information on the gender wars, my long-suffering friend Troy has made the two offerings below.

The fact that I first typed “font” is actually funnier to me. A “font” of information. Hee hee. I know that “font” can have a similiar meaning to “fount” but the latter is more precise. Besides, all I can think of is spurting bits of Arial (be kind in the comments – heh-heh). See what kind of sludge my mind enters after being exposed to this trash?

Enjoy these if you do, critique them if you don’t. I can see the humor – I can – but…. I’m trying to discourage further deliveries along this kind of subject line. Hear me, Troy? I like the pictures better – the birds, the bear, your studio, girls with tiaras… all of that is fine (hug).

“This has to be the funniest video I have ever seen.”


When the Wife Doesn’t Listen

Translating the Words of Men

“I’M GOING FISHING” Means: “I’m going to drink myself dangerously stupid, and stand by a stream with a stick in my hand, while the fish swim by in complete safety.”

“IT’S A GUY THING” Means: “There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no chance at all of making it logical.”

“CAN I HELP WITH DINNER?” Means: “Why isn’t dinner already on the table?”

“UH HUH,” “SURE, HONEY,” OR “YES, DEAR…” Means: Absolutely nothing. It’s a conditioned response.

“IT WOULD TAKE TOO LONG TO EXPLAIN” Means: “I have no idea how it works.”

“I WAS LISTENING TO YOU. IT’S JUST THAT I HAVE THINGS ON MY MIND.” Means: “I was wondering if that redhead over there is wearing a bra.”

“TAKE A BREAK HONEY, YOU ARE WORKING TOO HARD.” Means: “I can’t hear the game over the vacuum cleaner.”

“THAT’S INTERESTING, DEAR.” Means: “Are you still talking?”

“YOU KNOW HOW BAD MY MEMORY IS.” Means: “I remember the theme song to ‘F Troop’, the address of the first girl I ever kissed, and the vehicle identification numbers of every car I’ve ever owned, but I forgot your birthday.”

“I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT YOU, AND GOT YOU THESE ROSES.” Means: “The girl selling them on the corner was a real babe.”

“OH, DON’T FUSS, I JUST CUT MYSELF, IT’S NO BIG DEAL.” Means: “I have actually severed a limb, but will bleed to death before I admit that I am hurt.”

“HEY, I’VE GOT MY REASONS FOR WHAT I’M DOING.” Means: “And I sure hope I think of some pretty good reasons soon.”

“I CAN’T FIND IT.” Means: “It didn’t fall into my outstretched hands, so I’m completely clueless.”

“WHAT DID I DO THIS TIME?” Means: “What did you catch me at?”

“I HEARD YOU.” Means: “I haven’t the foggiest clue what you just said, and am hoping desperately that I can fake it well enough so that you don’t spend the next 3 days yelling at me.”

“YOU KNOW I COULD NEVER LOVE ANYONE ELSE” Means: “I am used to the way you yell at me, and realize it could be worse.”

“YOU LOOK TERRIFIC.” Means: “”Please don’t try on one more outfit, I’m starving.”

“I’M NOT LOST. I KNOW EXACTLY WHERE WE ARE.” Means: “No one will ever see us alive again.”

Some Humor

Some Humor

I cut off way too much of my hair yesterday… Sigh. So… here are some jokes that friends and relatives have been sending. Enjoy…


‘Hi honey. This is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?’

‘No, Daddy. She’s upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul.’

After a brief pause, ‘But honey, you haven’t got an Uncle Paul.’

‘Oh yes I do, and he’s upstairs in the room with Mommy, right now.’

Brief Pause. ‘Uh, okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down on the table, run upstairs and knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy that Daddy’s car just pulled into the driveway.’

‘Okay, Daddy, Just a minute.’

A few minutes later the little girl comes back to the phone. ‘I did it, Daddy.’
‘And what happened, honey?’ He asked.

‘Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed with no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser and now she isn’t moving at all!’

‘Oh my God!!! What about your Uncle Paul?’

‘He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too.

He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window and into the swimming pool. But I guess he didn’t know that you took out the water last week to clean it. He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he’s dead.’

Long Pause.

Longer Pause.

Even Longer Pause.

Then Daddy says,

‘Swimming pool? Is this 546-7213?”


One evening a husband, thinking he was being funny, said to his wife ‘Perhaps we should start washing your clothes in Slim Fast. Maybe it would take a few inches off of your butt!’

His wife was not amused, and decided that she simply couldn’t let such a comment go unpunished. The next morning the husband took a pair of underwear out of his drawer. ‘What’s this??’ he said to himself as a little ‘dust’ cloud appeared when he shook them out. ‘April,’ he hollered into the bathroom, ‘why did you put talcum powder in my underwear?’

She replied, ‘It’s not talcum powder……It’s ‘Miracle Grow.’


An old man lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent, I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days. Love, Papa

A few days later he received a letter from his son.

Dear Pop, Don’t dig up that garden. That’s where the bodies are buried. Love, Vinnie

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Pop, Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do under the circumstances. Love you, Vinnie


Two sisters – Bubbles and Barbie – had promised their seafaring Uncle to bury him at sea. In due time, he did pass away and the two blondes were determined to keep their promise. They set off from the beach with their uncle all stitched up in a burial bag and loaded onto their rowboat.

After a while Bubbles says, ‘Do you think we’re out far enough, Barbie?’ Barbie slipped over the side and finding the water only knee deep said, ‘nope, not yet Bubbles’. So they rowed out a little farther….

Again Bubbles asks Barbie, ‘Do you think we’re out far enough now?’ Once again Barbie slips over the side and almost immediately says, ‘No, this will never do, the water is only up to my chest. ‘

So on they row and row and row, and finally Barbie slips over the side and disappears. Quite a bit of time goes by and poor Bubbles is really getting worried when suddenly Barbie breaks the surface gasping for breath.

‘Well is it deep enough yet, Sis?’ ‘Yes, finally. Hand me the shovel.’


A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, walked up to the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes, and said, ‘I would like to buy some cyanide.’

The pharmacist asked, ‘Why in the world do you need cyanide?’

The lady replied, ‘I need it to poison my husband.’

The pharmacist’s eyes got big and he exclaimed, ‘Lord have mercy! I can’t give you cyanide to kill your husband. That’s against the law! I’ll lose my license! They’ll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of
bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!’

The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist’s wife. The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, ‘Well now, that’s different. You didn’t tell me you had a prescription.’


A little boy goes to his father and asks ‘Daddy, how was I born?’

The father answers, ‘Well, son, I guess one day you will need to find out anyway! Your Mom and I first got together in a chat room on Yahoo. Then I set up a date via e-mail with your Mom and we met at a cyber-cafe. We sneaked into a secluded room, where your mother agreed to a download from my hard drive. As soon as I was ready to upload, we discovered that neither one of us had used a firewall, and since it was too late to hit the delete button, nine months later a little Pop-Up appeared that said:

‘You got Male!’


A husband wrote the following letter for his wife and left it on the dining room table:

‘To My Dear Wife. You will surely understand that I have certain needs that you, being 54 years old, can no longer satisfy. I am very happy with you and I value you as a good wife. Therefore, after reading this letter, I hope that you will not wrongly interpret the fact that I will be spending the evening with my 18 year old secretary at the Comfort Inn Hotel. Please don’t be upset – I shall be home before midnight.’

When the man came home late that night, he found the following letter on the dining room table:

‘My Dear Husband. I received your letter and thank you for your honesty about my being 54 years old. I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that you are also 54 years old. As you know, I am a math teacher at our local college. I would like to inform you that while you read this, I will be at the Marriott Hotel with Michael, one of my students. He is young, virile, and like your secretary,18 years old.

As a successful businessman who has an excellent knowledge of math, you will understand that although it may appear that we are in the same situation, there is one mathematical difference:

18 goes into 54 a lot more times than 54 goes into 18.

Therefore, I will not be home until sometime tomorrow.


One night, after the couple had retired for the night, the woman became aware that her husband was touching her in a most unusual manner. He started by running his hand across her shoulders and the small of her back. He ran his hand over her breasts, touching them very lightly. Then, he proceeded to run his hand gently down her side, sliding his hand over her stomach, and then down the other side to a point below her waist. He continued on, gently feeling her hips, first one side and the other. His hand ran further down the outside of her thighs. His gentle probing then started up the inside of her left thigh, stopped and the returned to do the same to her right thigh.

By this time the woman was becoming aroused and she squirmed a little to better position herself.

The man stopped abruptly and rolled over to his side of the bed.

Why are you stopping darling?’ she whispered.

He whispered back, ‘ I found the remote.’


On their way to a justice of the peace to get married, a couple has a fatal car accident. The couple is sitting outside heavens gate waiting on St. Peter to do the paperwork so they can enter. While waiting, they wonder if they could possibly get married in heaven.

St. Peter finally shows up and they ask him. St. Peter says, “I don’t know, this is the first time anyone has ever asked. Let me go find out,” and he leaves.

The couple sit for a couple of months and begin to wonder if they really should get married in Heaven, what with the eternal aspect of it all. “What if it doesn’t work out?” they wonder. “Are we stuck together forever?”

St. Peter returns after yet another month, looking somewhat bedraggled. “Yes,” he informs the couple, “you can get married in Heaven.”

“Great,” says the couple, “but what if things don’t work out? Could we also get a divorce in Heaven?”

St. Peter, red-faced, slams his clipboard onto the ground. “What’s wrong?” exclaims the frightened
couple.

“Good Grief!” St. Peter exclaims, “It took me three months to find a priest up here! Do you have ANY idea how long it’s going to take for me to find a lawyer?”


Through a Glass Darkly….

STORY OF THE GOOD SAMARITAN

A Sunday school teacher was telling her class the story of the Good Samaritan, in which a man was beaten, robbed and left for dead. She described the situation in vivid detail so her students would catch the drama. Then, she asked the class, “If you saw a person lying on the roadside, all wounded and bleeding, what would you do?”

A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed silence, “I think I’d throw up.”

STORY OF ELIJAH

The Sunday school teacher was carefully explaining the story of Elijah the Prophet and the false prophets of Baal. She explained how Elijah built the altar, put wood upon it, cut the steer in pieces, and laid it upon the altar. And then, Elijah commanded the people of God to fill four barrels of water and pour it over the altar. He had them do this four times.

“Now,” said the teacher! , “can anyone in the class tell me why the Lord would have Elijah pour water over the steer on the altar?”

A little girl in the back of the room started waving her hand, “I know, I know,” she said, “to make the gravy!”

LOT’S WIFE

The Sunday School teacher was describing how Lot’s wife looked back and turned into a pillar of salt, when little Johnny interrupted, “My Mummy looked back once, while she was DRIVING,” he announced triumphantly, “and she turned into a telephone pole!”

HIGHER POWER

A Sunday school teacher said to her children, “We have been learning how powerful kings and queens were in Bible times. But, there is a higher power. Can anybody tell me what it is?”

One child blurted out, “Aces!”

SUNDAY SCHOOL

Nine year old Joey was asked by his mother what he had learned in Sunday school. “Well, Mom, our teacher told us how God sent Moses behind enemy lines on a rescue mission to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. When he got to the Red Sea, he had his engineers build a pontoon bridge and all the people walked across safely. Then, he used his walkie-talkie to radio headquarters for reinforcements. They sent bombers to blow up the bridge and all the Israelites were saved.”

“Now, Joey, is that really what your teacher taught you?” his mother asked.

“Well, no, Mom. But, if I told it the way the teacher did, you’d never believe it!”

POOR LION

A Sunday school teacher was telling the youngsters about Daniel and the Lions’ Den. She had a picture of Daniel standing, brave and confident, with a group of lions around him. One little girl started to cry. The teacher said, “Don’t cry. The lions are not going to eat Daniel.”

The little girl said, “That’s not what I’m crying about. That little lion, over in the corner, isn’t going to get any food.”