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It's Almost Friday Humor Thread


Subdeacon Joe

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While visiting a friend who was in the hospital, I noticed several nurses were wearing a pin designed to look like an apple.

I asked one nurse what the pin signified.

"Nothing," she said with a smile. "It's just to keep the doctors away."

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You know, I’m pretty sure they stopped making ghosts after the Civil War.

 

 

You never see a ghost with a man bun or smoking a bubblegum flavored vape.

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1 hour ago, LawMan Mark, SASS #57095L said:

You know, I’m pretty sure they stopped making ghosts after the Civil War.

 

 

You never see a ghost with a man bun or smoking a bubblegum flavored vape.

That's because they are afraid to leave their Mom's basement.

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53 minutes ago, Sedalia Dave said:

fh1.jpg

Back in the early eighties I go in this convenience store. There's a shopping cart sitting up near the counter. I have no idea what was in it but there was a sign on the cart said that stuff was "ON SAIL".

 

So I told the manager - you know you spelled "sale" wrong on your sign. He said that he was aware of that. Just about everybody that came in the store told him that he had spelled it wrong. And they bought one. He said for about 2 weeks it had sat there with the word spelled correctly, and almost nobody bought any.

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A more or less accurate account of a bit of Welsh history.

 

Heather Rose Jones, 'Welsh History 101'

Welsh History 101
(Tune: "The Ash Grove"]

If ever you wander out by the Welsh border
Come stop by and see me and all of my kin
I'm Morgan ap Daffyd ap Gwion ap Hywell
Ap Ifor ap Madoc ap Rhodri ap Gwyn
We'll feast you on mutton and harp for your pleasure
And give you a place to sleep out of the cold
Or maybe we'll meet you out on the dark roadway
And rob you of horses and weapons and gold

My neighbor from England has come across raiding
Slain six of my kinsmen and burned down my hall
It cannot be borne this offense and injustice
I've only killed four of his, last I recall
I'll send for my neighbors, Llewellyn and Owain
We'll cut him down as for the border he rides
But yesterday Owain stole three of my cattle
So first I'll retake them and three more besides

We need a strong prince to direct our resistance
Heroic, impartial, of noble degree
My brother's wife's fourth cousin's foster-son, Gruffydd
Is best for the job as I'm sure you'll agree
What matter that Rhys is the old prince's nephew
He's exiled to Ireland and will not return
I know this for every time boats he is building
I send my spies money to see that they burn

Last evening my brother and I were at war
Over two feet of land on a boundary we share
But early this morning, I hear he's been murdered
I'll not rest until I avenge him, I swear
Yes, we are just plain folk who mind our own business
Honest and loyal and full of good cheer
So if you should wander our by the Welsh border
Come stop by and meet all the friendly folk here

By Heather Rose Jones

https://youtu.be/e7pDtqavp0E


https://youtu.be/y9f2qKBocVg
 
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THE SONG OF THE SHIELD WALL

 

or 600 years of Saxon history, in one minute and 47 seconds

 

 

Hasten, on sea-steed, over the swan-road,
Foam-bellied ships on the froth of the sea!
For Hengest has called us from Gotland and Frisia
To Vortigern's country, his army to be.

 

We'll take our pay there in sweeter than silver,
We'll take our plunder in richer than gold,
For Hengest has promised us land for our fighting,
Land that the sons of the Saxons shall hold!

 

Hasten, on fjords-men, down to the river;
Dragon-prowed ships on the in-flowing tide.
The linden-wood shield and the old spear of ash-wood
Are needed again by the cold waterside.

 

Draw up the shield-wall, my shoulder-companions;
Later, whenever our story is told,
They'll say that we died guarding what we call dearest,
Land that the sons of the Saxons shall hold!

 

Hasten, on house-carls, north to the Danelaw;
Harald Hardrada comes over the sea!
His longships are laden with bersarks from Norway
To claim Canute's crown and our master to be.

 

Bitter he'll find there the bite of our spear-points,
Hard ruling Northmen too strong to die old.
We'll give him six feet - - plus as much as he's taller - -
Of land that the sons of the Saxons do hold!

 

Hasten on southward, strong son of Godwin
Victory is sweet and your men have fought hard,
But William the Bastard has landed at Pevensey,
Burning the land you have promised to guard.

 

Draw up the spears on the hill-tops of Hastings,
Fight till the sun drops and evening grows cold,
And die with the last of your Saxons around you,
Holding the land you were given to hold!

 

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40 minutes ago, Alpo said:

THE SONG OF THE SHIELD WALL

 

or 600 years of Saxon history, in one minute and 47 seconds

 

 

Hasten, on sea-steed, over the swan-road,
Foam-bellied ships on the froth of the sea!
For Hengest has called us from Gotland and Frisia
To Vortigern's country, his army to be.

 

We'll take our pay there in sweeter than silver,
We'll take our plunder in richer than gold,
For Hengest has promised us land for our fighting,
Land that the sons of the Saxons shall hold!

 

Hasten, on fjords-men, down to the river;
Dragon-prowed ships on the in-flowing tide.
The linden-wood shield and the old spear of ash-wood
Are needed again by the cold waterside.

 

Draw up the shield-wall, my shoulder-companions;
Later, whenever our story is told,
They'll say that we died guarding what we call dearest,
Land that the sons of the Saxons shall hold!

 

Hasten, on house-carls, north to the Danelaw;
Harald Hardrada comes over the sea!
His longships are laden with bersarks from Norway
To claim Canute's crown and our master to be.

 

Bitter he'll find there the bite of our spear-points,
Hard ruling Northmen too strong to die old.
We'll give him six feet - - plus as much as he's taller - -
Of land that the sons of the Saxons do hold!

 

Hasten on southward, strong son of Godwin
Victory is sweet and your men have fought hard,
But William the Bastard has landed at Pevensey,
Burning the land you have promised to guard.

 

Draw up the spears on the hill-tops of Hastings,
Fight till the sun drops and evening grows cold,
And die with the last of your Saxons around you,
Holding the land you were given to hold!

 

 

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A Mom is driving a little girl to her friend's house for a play date.

"Mommy," the little girl asks, "How old are you?"

"Honey, you are not supposed to ask a lady her age," the mother warns.

"It is not polite."

"OK," the little girl says, "How much do you weigh?"

"Now really," the mother says, "These are personal questions and are really none of your business."

Undaunted, the little girl asks, "Why did you and daddy get a divorce?"

"Those are enough questions, honestly!"

The exasperated mother walks away as the two friends begin to play.

"My Mom wouldn't tell me anything," the little girl says to her friend.

"Well," said the friend, "All you need to do is look at her driver's license.

It's like a report card; it has everything on it."

Later that night the little girl says to her mother, "I know how old you are, you are 32."

The mother is surprised and asks, "How did you find that out?"

"I also know that you weigh 140 pounds."

The mother is past surprised and shocked now.

"How in heaven's name did you find that out?"

"And," the little girl says triumphantly, "I know why you and daddy got a divorce."

"Oh really?" the mother asks.

"Why?"

"Because you got an F in sex.

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