Thursday

Little Johnny was afraid of the dark. One night his mother told him to go out to the back porch and bring her the broom.

Little Johnny turned to his mother and said, "Mama, I don't want to go out there. It's dark."

His mother smiled reassuringly at Little Johnny. "You don't have to be afraid of the dark," she explained. "Jesus is out there. He'll look after you and protect you."

Little Johnny looked at his mother real hard and asked, "Are you sure he's out there?"

"Yes, I'm sure. He is everywhere, and he is always ready to help you when you need him," she said.

Little Johnny thought about that for a minute and then went to the back door and cracked it a little. Peering out into the darkness, he called, "Jesus? If you're out there, would you please hand me the broom?"

Shortly after Sonny Bono's untimely demise, I was having a drink with my friend Harry, a highly respected superior court judge. He mentioned that his father had been Sonny and Cher's chief publicist, and had stayed with Sonny after the couple's domestic and professional breakup.

He said that Sonny had been quite bitter after the split, and had instructed his dad to cut up all the existing publicity photos so that only Sonny's picture remained. I observed that he had done remarkably well despite his humble beginnings.

"I don't understand," he puzzled.

I explained: "Considering the fact that you were raised the son of a Cher cropper."

There are two sides to every divorce: Yours and shithead's.

TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME.
by Robert Herrick

GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may go marry:
For having lost but once your prime
You may for ever tarry.

An exasperated mother, whose son was always getting into mischief, finally asked him, "How do you expect to get into heaven?"

The boy thought it over and said, "Well, I'll just run in and out and in and out and keep slamming the door until St. Peter says, 'For heaven's sake, Jimmy, come in or stay out.'"

You might be a redneck if…

You can tell your age by the number of rings in the bathtub.

A great fruit cake recipie

You'll need the following: a cup of water, a cup of sugar, four large eggs, two cups of dried fruit, a teaspoon of baking soda, a teaspoon of salt, a cup of brown sugar, lemon juice, nuts, and a bottle of whisky.

Sample the whisky to check for quality.

Take a large bowl. Check the whisky again. To be sure it is the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink. Repeat. Turn on the electric mixer, beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add one teaspoon of sugar and beat again.

Make sure the whisky is still okay. Cry another tup. Turn off the mixer. Break two leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit. Mix on the turner. If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers pry it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the whisky to check for tonsisticity. Next, sift two cups of salt. Or something. Who cares? Check the whisky. Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts. Add one table. Spoon. Of sugar or something. Whatever you can find.

Grease the oven. Turn the cake tin to 350 degrees. Don't forget to beat off the turner. Throw the bowl out of the window, check the whisky again and go to bed.

A young boy of four was going into hospital to have his tonsils removed. He told his playmate I'll be gone for awhile I have to have surgery.

On the day he was admitted his mother asked if the doctor would please circumcise the boy, since he's already going to be under anesthesia.

The boy woke up and was very sore "down there" there for several days.

About a week later he got to see his playmate again. The playmate informed him that he, too, was also going to have to have his tonsils out. He asked the boy to tell him about the surgery.

The little boy replied, "All I can tell you is your tonsils ain't where you think they are."