Hey gang! Buckle up and hang on, it’s time for another…
Last week’s episode brought us a number of comments and some of them even included jokes. (Shocking, I know.)
Our first one came from Andrew from Andrew’s View of the Week, who dared to bring a bit of religious humor to our festivities:
Every day at sunrise, rain, shine, fog, snow, Joe goes into his back yard,
faces east and says this little prayer:
“Dear God, please let me win the lottery today.”
He does this for twenty years.
Then one foggy morning the clouds part and a bright beam of light falls on Joe.
From the sky a booming voices says,
“Joe, meet me half way on this, buy a ticket.”
As I said to Andrew, buying a ticket would improve his chances. But only slightly.
Next up, Moonstone Mary (with her Etsy shop) treated us to another musical number, this time with her instrument of choice…
How do you know a French Hornist is at your door?
The doorbell drags.
I didn’t draw this one because… well, come on! Have you ever tried to draw a French Horn? Or a doorbell dragging?!
Anyway, Mary was good enough to explain the joke. She says, “Our bell is pointing to the back. So when the sound comes out, it bounces off a surface, then moves its way around the room. Therefore, when you play French Horn, you need to stay a bit ahead of the beat.”
All of which makes playing French Horn sound really tricky and may explain why they tend to be a little eccentric?
I say that with deep affection. Eccentrics are my favorite kind of people.
Next up, Lynette from In the Net! shared a quote from Mike Myers:
Canada is the essence of not being.
Not English, not American, it is the mathematic of not being.
And a subtle flavour – we’re more like celery as a flavour.
Great thing about this joke: it led to a whole discussion on the value of celery, both its pleasing crunch and delicate leaves, its role in French cooking (mirepoix), and somehow we wound up talking about reincarnation and whether or not we get any choice in the matter.
Honestly, the biggest delight in blogging is the comments. No contest. (Can I get an Amen with that?!)
And speaking of France, WD at WD Fyfe, who will be a Parisian in his next life and I have no doubt of it, gave us this joke:
If your nose runs and your feet smell … you’re built upside down.
And for our final joke, we have one from my AZ friend, Cheryl, who once again made me snort in a very unladylike manner:
Do clouds ever look down on us and say,
“Hey, that one’s shaped like an idiot”?
This one was not only funny, it was instructive. As in, maybe we should all take a last look in the mirror before we leave the house? Couldn’t hurt.
That’s all we had for this week, folks. If you have a joke to share, please leave it in the comments and check back next Monday to see it illustrated!
(Maybe.)
Feeding on Folly 
Yes, I have been enjoying the comments as much if not more than the jokes. Seems this post brings a desire to chat rather than get to the long TO DO list I have.
And now a philosophy joke that may be too heady for Bad Joke Monday. But maybe not considering last week’s cloud joke.
What is the similarity between a percussionist and a philosopher?
They both perceive time as an abstract concept.
Oooh, good one! Mixing philosophy and music, always a great choice! 👍
Definitely an “amen” on the comments – best part! 🙂
And now, a very bad joke:
Imagine if Americans switched from pounds to kilos overnight. There would be mass confusion.
Yes, definitely mass confusion! Though plenty of happy women, I’m sure.
“Oh, I only weigh 63 kg! Yay!)
Hahaha. 🙂 Yes, a nice little bonus. I know pounds to some extent (loading an aircraft) and Fahrenheit not at all (I have no idea if 60° F is hot or cold), but as a pilot, I had to learn feet (there’s an international agreement on these measurements as they pertain to flying). The funny thing is that I don’t know what an inch looks like. I always have to look it up. Ounces and pints? No idea either. So when it comes to dieting, five ounces of something is a big mystery. 😉
My husband and I learned to appreciate metric when our son was born. Because of his initial health problems, we were in and out of a children’s hospital that used the system. We were so concerned for his weight that every additional gram was a cause for celebration. You just don’t get that with ounces!
By the way, he’s fine now and we no longer remember metric. 🙂
I’m glad to hear that he’s fine.
It’s funny how we grow up with or habituate ourselves to a particular way of doing something but then lose the skill so quickly when it’s no longer required. It’s replaced by something else that needs our attention.
Perhaps that explains why I switched from French horn to trumpet!
hmm, maybe it’s time to dust off some of the trumpet jokes
Oh, do! My husband will appreciate any you can add to his collection! 😉
I’m seeing these incredible graphics as a collection of Dad Joke illustrations suitable for birthday cards and dorm posters. Speaking of which — I like to tell Dad jokes. Sometimes he laughs. And something a little edgy: I hope I die in my sleep like my grandfather not screaming in terror like the passengers in his car. cheers
A little dark humor is welcome this week.
Oh man, that’s truly dark — right up my alley! 😀
Yep, the comments are the best part. I relish them so, even if I often get considerably behind with my responses. (Mainly because I’m enjoying them too much, composing ballads and epics when I simple acknowledgement would usually suffice.
P.S. Celery Man is my favorite illustration with this batch. He has a certain je ne sais quois…
Your comments to our comments is what all visitors to Bonnywood live for. In fact, I believe some of those epics have been published in more than a few quarters. 😉
P.S. Celery Man is my fav too!
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