As promised – here’s a neat April Fools Day joke to play on people.

If you have a friend who’s been complaining about some mildly annoying ailment (i.e. aches and pains, fatigue, etc)  call the friend up and say, “Hey, you know  those little red marks by your ear?   I just read that that’s the first sign of (pick one)  Stroke, any form of cancer  (the more specific the more believable), Ebola, Alzheimers, schizophrenia, etc) Hint: Play on their greatest fears. When the friend responds “Really??!!!” (and I guarantee they will) say, “Yes. Seriously. You better make an appointment to see a doctor right away.” Take it as far as you wish. If they actually get as far as going to a doctor, imagine how relieved they’ll be. They might even thank you. Or not.

Well, that’s my April Fools gift to you all. Have fun wth it!

Gather a bunch of friends, dress as rednecks and hold a Trump rally. Make sure you have at least one Ku Klux Klan member and one Nazi. Hold up signs that say – Trump for Prezydent ;  Trump for Fuhrer; Blonde = Aryan, Aryan = Good; Abort all Muslims, Why do you think they call it Mexico? (my personal fave because it makes no sense) Size matters! etc  Get creative. Please post any slogan suggestions and photos!

Here are two Irish jokes. (they’re kind of minimalist)

Three Irish guys walk into a bar. (that’s it, punchline and all)

Three guys walk into an Irish bar – one black, one Jewish, one hispanic. The bartender yells, “Get the fuck out! All of you!”

I just love the Irish.

That’s all I got.

Shillelagh – later!

 

 

Today marks one year since I launched this blog. I am celebrating by reposting the poem that started it all since it is seasonally appropriate.

This is the racist, homophobic “Hate Church” of Harlem. This sign often references “sodomizers”, “white faggots stealing your black men”, “white gentrifiers”, etc. Still, this may very well be the most horrifying thing I have seen here so far.

They may be right though. Maybe Jesus has decided that this country is overdue for a big crash and burn. Trump is the best possible symbol for a nation that was built on, fosters and rewards greed. Trump as president would surely speed up our decline and fall.  I’ll have to check out that scripture passage. (BTW – West Harlem – where this church is located – has a very large Muslim population. Wonder what they think of this church’s endorsement.)

 

So, I extended Christmas for a few extra weeks on my blog due to technical difficulties and I’m now just catching up to New Year’s.

I don’t like making New Year’s resolutions because it’s just a recipe for self-defeating depression. Instead, I’ve made sort of a short term bucket list of things I’d like to do this coming year. I’ll keep you posted once I start checking items off.

1. Walk into a really expensive restaurant – dressed nicely – and ask the maitre d. “Where’s the crapper at?”

2. Ask to speak to a loan officer at the bank and tell him or her that I need $5,000. When he or she starts asking about credit ratings and collatoral, I’ll say, “I’m not looking for a loan, I’m asking for a handout.”

3. Attend service at one of those churches where you’re supposed to stand up and confess your sins. At that point, jump up and say, “I confess, I got a bunch of people to believe that there was a God, took their money and wasted their time. Forgive me for I have sinned.” Then sit down.
4. Get up on a busy subway car and say, “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen. Does anybody have something to sell, a performance they would like to share, a few jokes or just a really good sob story? I’ve got some money burning a hole in my pocket and I’m looking for someone to give it to.”

OK. Just one more Christmas post after this one and I promise I will not be trying to prolong the holidays any longer. Just getting caught up on time lost while my computer was down. And, apparently, I had a lot to say about Christmas. So, in the spirit of things, here’s the first of my X-mas cartoons.

 

 

I got behind on my blog postings while my computer was being repaired so I have some catching up to do. Unfortunately for you all, the backlogged posts are all Christmas related. So deal with it. This post is the first in a series of true stories. Hope you enjoy it.

I was at a party recently when the topic “worst present ever” came up. I really couldn’t think of anything notably bad that I had ever received. However, later on that day the handyman for my building stopped by with a gift for me. I certainly wasn’t expecting anything. I had given him a little bit of money as a Christmas gift but it really was just a little, although I’m sure no one else in the building even thought of giving him anything. And, he and I have a very friendly relationship. Anyway I was touched that he thought of me but I was quite surprised, especially since what he handed me was a very large box. I thanked him, gave him a kiss on the cheek and brought the gift inside.

Very curious, I opened the box. Inside, individually wrapped in tissue paper, was a set of nativity figurines. Now, first of all, I’m not at all religious, as regular visitors to my blog can guess – judging by the number of Jesus jokes (OK, the guy’s an easy target.)

Secondly, these aren’t the kind of figurines you can set up on your mantle. These are BIG! Joseph is about a foot and a half tall. I live in a 200 square foot apartment. If I did choose to set up this nativity scene, it would be like sharing my studio apartment with seven roommates – and a baby. That is – if there was a baby. Actually, the Christ child (creche and all) is missing (as is one of the wise men) which, when I set them up temporarily just to get a visual, left the others all gazing down at – NOTHING.

Now, even if I did suddenly find Jesus (I mean that figuratively, not literally) AND if I was inclined to celebrate his birth by giving up about a quarter of my living space to this scene of the Christmas miracle, I have to add one more thing – this present was given to me on January 3^rd. So, if I did have a nice little house somewhere with a yard to properly display my gift, I’d still have to store it for a year. But I guess I would also have a garage.

Anyway, I don’t think I can wait until that day arrives so, if anyone would like a not-quite-complete set of nativity figurines, leave a comment and we’ll see what we can work out.

(actual figurine)

I just walked 300 miles – for what? Is this someone’s idea of a joke?

Speaking of missing Jesuses (believe it or not I do have another, totally unrelated story on this topic)

I was online last month looking to buy some little plastic baby Jesuses. (that’s another story) Anyway, I came across a posting from someone else who was looking for a mini Jesus. Her story was a very sad one so I will copy it here in full. “My best friend has a nativity scene that she really loves. Unfortunately, the baby Jesus fell off the shelf into the hamster’s cage and he gnawed off the head and hands. Does anyone know where I can find a little baby Jesus (about two inches long) to replace it? My friend is hearbroken.”

I almost posted my suggestion, which was to kill the hamster and put him in Jesus’s little nest but I thought that would just be cruel, and it is the Good Will Towards Men season, after all.

Hamster post communion (that’s a Catholic joke. Ask a Catholic to explain it)

Happy Holidays everyone.

For the new year, I’ve been busy thinking up slogans for my sometimes home of Martha’s Vineyard. Vote for your favorite and I’ll be sending the top three proposals to the chamber of commerce.

Martha’s Vineyard – if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.

MV – Is inbreeding such a high price to pay for the year-round enjoyment of spectacular natural beauty?

Three months of smiling at tourists. Nine months of bitching about them.

The Vineyard – It’s worth mortgaging your home for memories that will last a few months.

Martha’s Vineyard – A little island off the coast of reality

Who’s Martha? We don’t know. Where are the vineyards? We don’t have any. Any more stupid questions?

Martha’s Vineyard – The status symbol for those who can’t afford Nantucket

Tourists beware – We’re not interested in adding your healthy new DNA to our gene pool!

If you have to ask, it’s probably a clam

The Vineyard – Where half the people are yoga instructors and the rest are either massage therapists or alternative medicine practiioners of some kind.

MV – The steamship is our ATM

Warning – Someone very likely spit on your overpriced cone of ice cream – Ok, gelato. Whatever.

The Vineyard – For people who are willing to pay for crap that washes up on the beach every day. (We’ve got polished beach rocks, clam shell jewelry and little bits of broken glass in every price range.)

Tourist advisory – Locals may tell you that they’re an artist of some sort but they’re really just looking for patrons for their particular brand of crazy!

Martha’s Vineyard – Pastel, sugar-coated hostility

The Vineyard – No you can’t have your money back.