[Kevin Andrew Murphy]

Congrats.

And "Ack!" I know my recent submissions certainly won't make the clean cut.

But clean and classic....

Hmm....


A Grave Question

The coffee seller said, “Here, take
a moment from your coffee break
to think, ‘What do I hope men say
when I am laid out at my wake?’”

The banker said, “‘He’d naught to prove.’”
The hipster said, “‘He found his groove.’”
Said Mullah Nasrudin, “Me? I
hope they say, ‘Look! I saw him move!’”


Kevin



[This message has been edited by Kevin Andrew Murphy (edited July 10, 2002).]

[Tim Murphy]

Kevin, your 4 sinful nuns is almost certainly a keeper, likelier to be in the book than in the magazine, for obvious reasons. Self-appointed editors that we are, Carol and I will have to have a shoot-out in Kansas. Her pistols or mine? Dunno, but we agree on the merits of that poem.

[Kevin Andrew Murphy]

Tim (and Carol),

Thanks.

I had fun doing that one in the Hymnal Stanza (expecially since that means it can be sung to the tune of "Amazing Grace").

Kevin

[RCL]

The Long and Short of It

He’d called about her wanted ad:
“I seek a lover and a friend—
no batterer who’ll run away.”
Her heart, so newly on the mend,

leapt up to hear the doorbell ring.
She answered, gasped at seeing him,
a young man lying on the porch.
“Wha-?” she said, her face now grim.

“I’m Roy. We talked about your ad.”
She winced, replied, “What did you say?”
He clearly had no arms or legs:
“I’m harmless, and can’t run away!”

She knew that this just wouldn’t do:
“I need a lover. . . , so goodbye.”
He cracked a smile and winked at her:
“I rang the doorbell didn’t I?”

------------------
Ralph

[This message has been edited by RCL (edited July 11, 2002).]

[Jim Hayes]

Good one Ralph, great to see you here.

Edited with acknowledgements to Carol EFH (Editor From Heaven)

A Texan eating out in Mexico
was in a restaurant and was most ambitious
to try a local dish. “I’d like to know
what that man’s having. It looks quite delicious.”

“Those are testículos— a treat, Señor.
They’re from a bull that’s freshly killed each day.
We only have one fight. The matador
removes them and they’re cooked our special way.

“As that dish has been ordered, I’m afraid
there are no more until tomorrow’s fight
is over.” Hearing this, the Texan made
a booking for the dish the following night.

The next day he was served his special meal
and all was as he had anticipated--
the sizzling meat reminded him of veal;
the sauce so rich that he congratulated

the waiter, saying: “I’ve never had before
a meal so good. The portions, though, I’m curious—
they seemed quite small.” The waiter shrugged, “Señor,
at times the bull can also be victorious.”


Jim Hayes









[This message has been edited by Jim Hayes (edited July 12, 2002).]

[Tim Murphy]

This just in from Conny:

Misguided Love Sonnet

A drunken man alone beside a bar
lights up a cigarette and starts to cry.
In calling for the barman passing by,
he`s clearly several bourbon`s over par;
"I`ve just found out my wife is having sex
with my best friend while I`m out keeping fit"
he shouts "It`s happened twice before, but shit,
what can I do? Gimme another Becks".

With Dolly Parton ringing in his brain,
the barman asks him plain just what he said
on finding them together in the bed,
in love, entwined, unable to explain
when he returned home early from his jog.
"I just grabbed hold of him and said..BAD dog.

This one looks like a keeper, Conny.--Tim

[Roger Slater]

KEEPING TO A SCHEDULE


Brian was punctilious with time.
Each day he woke at seven fifty-five,
brushed his teeth by seven fifty-nine,
quickly showered, dressed, and would arrive
at nine-o-seven to catch the nine-o-eight
ferry boat for his commute to work.

One day it happened. Brian woke up late.
He fell into a frenzy, went berserk,
skipped his shower, cursed the extra sleep,
and sprinted to the pier to see his ship
six feet off the dock! He took a leap,
crashed onto the deck and broke his hip.

"He's mad!" the captain cried, confused and shocked.
"In just another minute, we'd have docked!"




[This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited July 11, 2002).]

[RCL]

Jim’s Full Confession

“Forgive me Father for my sins.”
And are they mortal sins, my son?
“I have had sex with several girls.”
Now Jim, you’d better name me one.

“I cannot say, I’m so ashamed.”
Was it, maybe, Maureen O’Brien?
“Oh dear, I cannot truthfully say.”
Perchance, it was that Judy Ryan?

“Oh, I cannot say, for shame.”
So then, it was young Peg O’Connor?
“Absolve me, but I cannot say.”
Say ten Hail Mary’s in Her honor.

When leaving the confessional,
he saw a schoolmate, Joseph Deeds:
“What did you get for penance, Jim?”
Ten Hail Mary’s—three new leads!


Revised for consistent stresses.

[This message has been edited by RCL (edited July 12, 2002).]

[Roger Slater]

Very, very funny, Ralph! (Why don't you give Joe Leeds a name that doesn't sound identical to "leads"...how about calling him Joe Deeds?)

[John Beaton]

Great job, Tim and Carol. But what a challenge - forty pages of clean jokes! I didn't know there were that many.

Thou, Nor Thine Ox, Nor Thy Minister

The Reverend Clanachan yielded to the fishing
that tempted him sorely to flout the Sabbath Day;
throughout the sermon and psalms he’d daydreamed, wishing
that all these damned parishioners would go away
and let him scurry surreptitiously
to the Minister’s Pool to cast a Thunder and Lightning
now the spate had dropped and cleared propitiously
and fish were in - he felt his fly-line tightening.

But God was wroth and His punishment fitted the crime -
the Reverend landed a most magnificent salmon,
the largest ever recorded at the time,
but this was a bitter gift bestowed by Mammon:
he admired the creature then gave an anguished yell,
“Holy Mackerel! It’s Sunday. Whom can I tell?”

John