Random Robby Ramblings
The customer said, – My tire’s making a whistling sound. I said – Sounds like a flat. He said – More like an F sharp.
Stealing someone’s coffee is called mugging.
Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other: “You stay here; I’ll go on a head.”
When you die, which body part dies last? The pupils. They dilate.
Writing my name in cursive is my signature move.
A synonym is a word you use when you can’t spell the other.
My new year’s resolution is to read more. So, I’ve permanently turned on the TV subtitles.
A recent study has found women who carry a little extra weight live longer than men who mention it.
“Do Not Touch” must be one of the scariest things to read in Braille.
I was walking past a farm and a sign said “Duck, eggs!” I thought, “That’s an unnecessary comma.” And then it hit me.
Dropping Latin phrases into conversations to make me sound smart is my modus operandi.
What’s the first thing you know? HMMMMM – Ole Jed’s A Millionaire
On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from
his mother. The note read:
“The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his
A SHOT OF POLITENESS
While I was working as a pediatric nurse, I had the difficult assignment of giving immunization shots to children. One day I entered the examining room to give four-year-old Lizzie her shot.
“NO! NO! NO!” she screamed.
“Lizzie,” her mother scolded. “That’s not polite behavior.”
At that, the girl yelled even louder, “NO, THANK YOU! NO, THANK YOU! NO, THANK YOU!”
A local pastor joined a community service club, and the members thought they would have some fun with him.
Under his name badge they printed “Hog Caller” as his occupation. Everyone made a big fanfare as the badge was presented.
The pastor responded by saying, “I usually am called the ‘shepherd of the sheep’…but your know you people better than I do.”
Painfull Glass Speak
A young seminary student went home for Christmas break. A horrible snowstorm stranded the regular minister in another town. The leaders of the congregation asked the young man to substitute for the regular minister.
The young preacher started his sermon by explaining the meaning of a substitute. “If you break a window,” he said, “and then place a piece of plywood over the hole — that’s a substitute.”
After the sermon, a well-intentioned woman wished to compliment the young man. As she enthusiastically shook his hand, she said: “You were no substitute. You were a real pane.”
INNOVATIONS BEING DEVELOPED FOR 2022
Gluten-Free Face Masks
Socially-Distanced Murder Hornets
Pfizer’s Zombie Vaccine
New game show, “Wheel of Fauci”
After the fall in Garden of Eden, Adam was walking with his sons Cain and Abel.
As they passed by the ruins of the Garden of Eden, one of the boys asked, “Father, what’s that?”
Adam replied, “Boys, that’s where your mother ate us out of house and home.”
The other day, Jack, my 9-year-old, told me that passing gas is just ghosts of stuff we ate.
That’s an interesting way to look at it. So I asked him, “Where did you hear that?”
And without missing a beat he said, “From my rear end!”
How did I not see that coming?
The Legend of Banana Pants
The question I will live with for the rest of my life is; “If Farah was the only clothing company going that made a pair of pants with a 28in waist and a 34in length in 1968. Why did they choose to make the one pair they shipped to Michigan bright yellow corduroys?” When you are six foot five in seventh grade and only weigh 125lbs you already look like a freak. Now add that only pair of pants to my name was those bright yellow corduroys. Yes, my mom shopped till she dropped to find me another pair of pants, but bright yellow it was and no not just yellow, but corduroys so if they couldn’t see me coming, they could hear me.
I think my growth hormones felt the need to keep up with my school grade level so from the 5th grade to the 6th I went from a “five footer” to a “six footer” and by basketball season another five inches to go with it. So while some were experiencing growing pains mine were more like growing tormented anguish. I was sure that someone was secretly torturing me with a hidden rack in my bed.
Like any giant a host of nick names fit the bill and I was always good for a weather forecast, bean stringing, and Ho, Ho, Ho, green giant. “Whistle Britches”, which was a bit more painful but always good for a laugh, however nothing could be worse than the dreaded “banana pants”. I was forever branded as un-a-peeling, as the cruel would “Dole” out their insults.
To make me even a bit more bizarre most folks my height have long feet in order to have balance, but God certainly had a sense of humor in my design, I have normal size feet so as to trip and fall at the drop of a hat. So with my new found giant-ness, here I came, pants a whistling, and feet a tripping making my way through Perry Junior high, quite a sight and yes if I fell just right you might see the banana splits, (if I didn’t say it you would still have thought it, right).
My height dilemma wasn’t just limited to my appearance. At my first dance, a child of the 60’s I was a Beetle fan so when “Hey Jude” started playing, I asked a girl I was “sweet on” to dance. In review I had missed two major pitfalls, number one she was about four foot four and “Hey Jude” was a slow dance. Number two it was the longest single of the decade, seven minutes and eleven seconds and believe me I felt every one of those four hundred and thirty two seconds in utter awkward hunch backed fashion.
At an age where appearance is becoming extremely important, I was shot at and hit. Quite convinced I was no ones prince charming, destined to spend the rest of my life with no female companionship. Oh, I got along with the guys alright; I was on the football and basketball teams tripping my way to that form of popularity, but I hated the way I looked and was sure that no girl would ever want to be seen with me. Who could ever love this “banana the pants whistler”?
At this point in writing this I asked Jesus why you made me this way. I really don’t feel any pain associated with it anymore, just laughter at the humor of it. Yet I asked and prayed throughout the night and this morning listening for Jesus to give me some clarity, Jesus blessed me out of my socks; I really can’t stop crying at His answer. “Robby, I knew you were going to need to know how to fall from great heights well.”
The banana pants, I asked, “I was teaching you to turn scorn into joy.” Jesus answered.
This is the kind of perspective, love, healing and deep intimacy only Jesus can illuminate within the darkness of my past wounds.
2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)
9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
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