Archive for December 18th, 2009

Another Joke I Made Up

This doesn’t mean that no one else thought of the same thing. It just means that since I never heard it from others means they’re probably new to you.

I seldom read links that are sent to me via email unless they have an explanation first. Being a writer, most of my emails consist almost entirely of stuff I wrote myself , so I am probably more touchy than others about someone who wants me to spend my time reading something values his own time more. I can’t STAND a clown who sends out a link with no explanation to a group of people.

Having demonstrated once again that I’m a grumpy old bastard, I will now try to show that I am a grumpy old bastard with a sense of humor.

Having spent my life around fanatics, workaholics, drunks — and me — I am used to depression. So I made a joke about History’s Greatest Depressive. Old HGD was a fine, but he saw the worst in EVERYTHING and was always miserable. The angels couldn’t wait for him to die and go to Heaven where he could get rid of all that misery.

Finally the Day came. The depressive came into Paradise and the angels sang in chorus, “Welcome to the Joyous Place where you will spend the rest of eternity.”

In reply, the depressive wailed, “The REST of eternity? You mean I MISSED the first half?”

Another one that probably shows my state of mental unhealth:

Do you know how to tell someone is paranoid schizophrenic?

He says:

“They’re out to get us.”

This one I did not make up, but it relates to an earlier article. I recognized Lord Monckton who was in Ventura’s show about global warming because BoardAd quoted him to me. I have written about how all the Communists became Environmentalists the day the Soviet Empire fell.

Lord Monckton says “Greens” have “stoplight politics.”

This means that they say they’re Green because they are too yellow to admit they’re Reds.

In my Southern Partisan Partisan Dictionary a quarter of century I defined Catholics as, “People who say some of their best friends are priests but don’t want their daughter to marry one.”

I got a long aggrieved letter from a Catholic guy who decided I was persecuting him with that definition. My editor, a South Carolina Irish Catholic, told me to ignore it.

Actually he said, “F… him,” but it meant the same thing.

The Partisan Dictionary was an obvious rip-off of Bierce’s nineteenth century work, but since Ambrose Bierce was a Texan I felt free to steal his Devil’s Dictionary concept as a part of the Southern Heritage The Partisan at that time reflected.

After all, Bierce defined “Mulatto” as “A child of two races, ashamed of both.”




I made these up and I repeat them. I say to you as I have said to others: “If you’ve heard this one before, try and stop me.”

I was in alcohol and drug recovery, so naturally I made up some jokes about Twelve Step Programs:

“Have you head about ‘Workaholics Anonymous?’ They have to attend fourteen meetings a day.”

“Have you heard about Depressives Anonymous? They had one meeting, decided it was hopeless, and went home.”

“I don’t know about Paranoids Anonymous. They don’t have any open meetings.”

A joke on a dead thug:

My club has been in business since January 1947 and is called ACOA, a corporation of alcoholics, initials which Adult Children of Alcoholics later took up. I have belonged to other clubs, but, as I have pointed out, this one has the highest entry fee on earth.

A black guy walked in with a gun to rob the club. One of the members had a gun permit. He told the guy he had to get his wallet, and shot the guy dead on the spot. It is not easy to shoot someone dead with a pistol. I know one woman who was in the club who shot her husband five times while he was on the floor with a .38 and he survived.

It is not bright to walk into a room in South Carolina and assume everyone is unarmed. It is also a bad move to walk into a room and try to panic a room full of alkies and addicts. Everyone in the room was used to emergencies.

That is why I hate Clint Eastwood’s “The Unforgiving” so much. I have seen regular people in emergencies, and the New York Jewish Theory that all white goyim are inept cowards when it comes to extreme situations is an insult only those raised by the Greatest Generation could accept like retarded sheep.

A lot has happened in the ACOA Club. It is in Five Points, the preppie section of Columbia with its expensive specialty shops. All that money in the area and who do thieves choose to pick on?

The Drunk Club, for God’s sake! We get broken into regularly, and there’s not a dime in the place. A lot of these thieves, like the late guy mentioned above, don’t know anything about it and think that a private club in Five Points must be money central Most of them are just stupid.

One particular idiot thought he was a pro. He cased the joint attending AA Meetings. He decided the Stash must be in the office. The office has criss-crossing steel rods with about six niches between them on the window. This Shrewd thief was skinny, so he stripped completely and rubbed WD-40 all over his body so he could slide in at 2 AM.

Naturally, he got stuck. He was trying to get through the bars after breaking the window so he cut himself as he wiggled to get free He finally decided to call the police on the office phone, for which he had to stretch and really cut himself to do. The cops called our Head Drunk, as we call the guy who runs the office at the time, and he came out to find the guy still stuck in the grate.

Used to emergencies, he brought a flash camera. He had plenty of time for photos.

The problem was that for over an hour the police would try to get this criminal genius out, but he was buck naked and greased and trying to get him out would cut him and make him scream curses, at which the cops would laugh so bard they had to back away so as not to slice him while they laughed. This happened over and over and over and over.

We had a picture on our bulletin board for months of this guy’s naked butt hanging out the window with blood and oil coming down.

I don’t believe anybody was ever happier to get to jail.


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