Random Robby Ramblings
What does a thesaurus eat for breakfast? Synonym rolls.
The number of people older than you will never increase.
What do you call a man in the ocean with no arms and no legs? Bob
What do you call a man in shark infested waters? Chum.
What do you call a lady who always sets fire to her power bill and phone bill?
Bernadette (Burn a debt)
What do you call a man who is shaking in a pile of leaves? Russel
The Man lying at your front door is probably, Matt…
What do you call a man sitting in hot water? Stew.
What do you call a man who is sitting in barely warm water? Luke.
What do you call a man who has cat scratches all over his face? Claude.
A woman went to a walk-in clinic, where she was seen by a young, new doctor. After about three minutes in the examination room, the doctor told her she was pregnant.
She burst out, screaming as she ran down the hall.
An older doctor stopped her and asked what the problem was, and she told him what had happened.
After listening, he had her sit down and relax in another exam room.
The doctor marched down the hallway back to where the first doctor was and demanded, “What’s the matter with you? Mrs. Terry is 59 years old, has four grown children and seven grandchildren, and you told her she was PREGNANT?!”
The young doctor continued to write on his clipboard, and without looking up, asked, “Does she still have the hiccups?”
John went to a psychiatrist: “I’ve got problems. Every time I go to bed, I think there’s somebody under it. I’m scared. I think I’m going crazy.”
“Just put yourself in my hands for one year,” said the shrink. “Come talk to me three times a week, and we should be able to get rid of those fears.”
“How much do you charge?” John asked warily.
“Each visit is $300,” replied the doctor.
“Well, I’ll sleep on it.”
Six months later the doctor bumped into John on the street: “Why didn’t you ever come to see me about those fears you were having?”
“Well, three hundred bucks a visit three times a week for a year is an awful lot of money! A friend at work cured me for nothing. I was so happy to have saved all that money that I went and bought myself a new pickup!”
“Is that so?! And how, may I ask, did your friend cure you?”
“He told me to cut the legs off the bed!”
Jesus To The Rescue
A little boy was afraid of the dark. One night his mother told him to go out to the back porch and bring her the broom. The little boy turned to his mother and said, “Mama, I don’t want to go out there. It’s dark.”
The mother smiled reassuringly at her son. “You don’t have to be afraid of the dark,” she explained. “Jesus is out there. He’ll look after you and protect you.”
The little boy 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.
The little boy 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?
Froging For Joy
A six-year-old goes to the hospital with his grandma to visit his grandpa. When they get to the hospital, he runs ahead of his grandma and bursts into his grandpa’s room.
“Grandpa, Grandpa!” he says excitedly, “As soon as Grandma comes into the room, make a noise like a frog!”
“What?” said his grandpa.
“Make a noise like a frog because Grandma said that as soon as you croak, we’re going to Disneyland!!!”
The brand-new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc., and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On December 19, a terrible tempest — a driving rainstorm — hit the area and lasted for two days.
On December 21, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way, he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity, so he stopped in.
One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time, it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked, and it covered up the entire problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. “Pastor,” she asked. “Where did you get that tablecloth?” The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria.
The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war, she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came in, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again. The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth, but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home. That was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn’t leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall, because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war. And how could there be two tablecloths so much alike?
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman’s apartment, knocked on the door, and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.