Hard to believe, but many of our customers at the bank still don’t know how to swipe their card through the ATM card reader. Because of this, my fellow tellers and I often find ourselves having to explain how it’s done.
One teller complained that she kept getting odd looks every time she explained it. I found out why when I overheard her tell one man, “Strip down facing me.”
A not-so-smart person walks up to the counter and says: “I’d like a cheeseburger, fries and a Diet Coke.”
The man behind the counter says “Look around! This is a LIBRARY!”
“Oh, how silly of me.” says the person. She then begins whispering, “I’d like a cheeseburger, fries and a Diet Coke…”
Q: What’s brown and sticky? ………………………………………….A: A twig.
Psychiatry students were in their Emotional Extremes class. “Let’s set some parameters,” the professor said. “What’s the opposite of joy?” he asked one student.
“Sadness,” he replied.
“The opposite of depression?” he asked another student.
“Elation,” he replied.
“The opposite of woe?” the prof asked a young woman from Texas.
The Texan replied, “Sir, I believe that would be giddyup.”
Two goobers were digging a ditch on a very hot day. One said to the other, “Why are we down in this hole digging a ditch when our boss is standing up there in the shade of a tree?”
“I don’t know,” responded the other. “I’ll ask him.”
He climbed out of the hole and went to his boss. “Why are we digging in the hot sun and you’re standing in the shade?”
“Intelligence,” the boss said.
“What do you mean, ‘intelligence’?”
The boss said, “Well, I’ll show you. I’ll put my hand on this tree and I want you to hit it with your fist as hard as you can.”
The goober took a mighty swing and tried to hit the boss’s hand. At the last second, the boss removed his hand and the goober hit the tree. The boss said, “That’s intelligence!”
The goober went back to his hole. His friend asked, “What did he say?”
“He said we are down here because of intelligence.”
“What’s intelligence?” said the friend.
The goober said, “I’ll put my hand here over my face now I want you to hit it with your fist as hard as you can.”
International Rules of Manhood
– Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.
– Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within twelve hours.
– No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man. In fact, even remembering his buddy’s birthday is strictly optional.
– On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.
– When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who’s playing.
– Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy.
– Friends don’t let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.
– If a man’s fly is down, that’s his problem; you didn’t see anything.
– Women who claim they “love to watch sports” must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game.
– Thou shalt not buy a car in the colors of brown, pink, lime green, orange, or sky blue.
– The woman who replies to the question “What do you want for Christmas?” with “If you loved me, you’d know what I want!” gets a Plat Station Three or Ninetendo. End of story.
– There is no reason for guys to watch ice skating or men’s gymnastics. Ever.
Mind Over Batter
Little Johnny’s mother was having difficulty gulping down the birthday cake he had made for her as a surprise. When she was finished, Little Johnny happily exclaimed,
“I’m so glad you like it, Mommy. There should have been 32 candles on the cake, but they were all gone when I took it out of the oven.”
Two archeologists exploring a remote mountain in Tibet came across a huge granite statue that resembled a sitting man. It stood almost 400 feet tall, and its bodily details were accurate down to the fingernails and teeth.
“It looks real enough to talk,” says one.
“Let’s try,” says the other, and turning to the statue, he asks it its name.
“How old are you?”
Finally, one shouts out, “What is the square root of 64?”
Suddenly, the mountain shakes as the giant statue rises onto its feet and puts its hand on its chin. Then after about ten seconds, the statue answers in a roaring voice, “Eight.”
“Of course!” says the scientist. “It only stands to reason.”
A fellow got up one morning and decided he no longer was going to shave himself, he was instead going to the barber for his morning shave.
The town barber also happened to be the local pastor in town. When the guy walked into the barber shop the barber/pastor was not there, he was out on a pastoral call but his wife Grace was in the shop.
The man said to Grace, “I want a shave.” Grace told him to climb up in the chair and she gave him a shave. When Grace was finished he asked her how much for the shave and Grace said, “Twenty dollars.”
“Twenty dollars, that seems a little steep,” the guy replied.
Grace said: “That’s my charge.”
So the guy gave her $20 bill and went on his way. The next morning when he got up he went to the mirror and looked and his face was as smooth as when he was shaved the day before. He checked the following the day, same thing, a week went by, two weeks and his face stayed as smooth as a baby’s face.
Finally after the third week he stopped back in the barber shop and Grace happened to be there. The guy said to her: “Grace, I can’t believe I still don’t need another shave. You did some kind of magnificent job.”
And Grace replied, “Well, you have been shaved by Grace and once shaved always shaved!”
Faith That Moved A Mountain
Every day for nine consecutive years he asked God to close a road. The Mount Hermon Road wound through the Mount Hermon Christian Conference Center, 70 miles south of San Francisco in the redwoods of the Santa Cruz Mountains. Bill served as executive director in the 1960s and ’70s. Next to the California state freeway system, the two-lane Mount Hermon Road was the most traveled piece of pavement in the region, connecting Scotts Valley with San Lorenzo Valley, a popular vacation area with two state parks, Big Trees, and Big Basin.
Unfortunately, Mount Hermon Road just happened to run right through the 500-acre camp.
“The road carried a constant parade of cars, motorcycles, service vans, logging trucks, sand trucks and more,” remembered Bill. “Every day hundreds of campers looked both ways (most of the time) before they crossed the road from the lodging areas to the dining facility and meeting rooms. It was a miracle that, despite the heavy traffic, there were no deaths.”
So the camp installed crosswalks. In 1966, Mount Hermon built a pedestrian overpass (foot bridge) providing a safe alternative to crossing the street. Still, not a day went by when children and families didn’t scamper across the road trying to outrun the oncoming vehicles unfamiliar with the impending hazards.
“The road wasn’t going to go away and the mountain it stretched around wouldn’t either, or so we thought. There seemed to be no answer,” said Bill. “I started to pray: ‘Lord, we don’t know how on earth this is going to be resolved — but You are able.’ ”
County Supervisor George Cress became interested in the issue and tried to get his colleagues involved to come up with an answer, but to no avail. Opposition sprung up from surrounding property owners who didn’t see why government money should benefit a camp that gave people “a quiet place to pray.”
“It was important,” said Bill, “that we not force our will on the community. We wanted to be good neighbors. The issue wasn’t our having a ‘quiet place to pray,’ but a safe condition for 60,000 annual Mount Hermon guests, 500 tax-paying residents and thousands of passersby.
“It was clear we would need the faith to move a mountain and have an attitude of love for, and patience with, those opposed” (1 Corinthians 13:2).
It was also clear to Bill that the only way such an alternative road could be built was if the road itself were closed, specifically below the 42 acres of the mountain which had been slipping down gradually for 60 years.
Bill continued to pray. Hundreds of Mount Hermon residents and supporters prayed. Bill prayed virtually every time he crossed the road: “Lord, please do your will. Please solve this frightening nightmare.”
In the spring of 1969 rains began to saturate the region. There were several temporary closures of the road, but it appeared that nothing would get the attention of government officials to consider plans to re-route Mount Hermon Road. Time and again the road was repaired after the storms.
One night that spring before he fell asleep, Bill Gwinn prayed, “Lord, why not tonight?”
That night, eight inches of rain fell on Mount Hermon. The next morning, Bill walked down to the road, but the road was nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Mount Hermon Road was now interrupted and buried beneath a mountain of earth. The mountain that once loomed over the thoroughfare had, like a lazy brown river of mud, slid downhill without a care and completely smothered the road.
“I was absolutely ecstatic, said Bill. “There were trees, underbrush, telephone poles, chunks of asphalt and dirt everywhere. The pavement was fractured. In one area the road had dropped two feet and right next to that, had risen three feet. Mount Hermon Road was now totally impassible. And it was eerily quiet. Gone was the roar of traffic. Gone were all the trucks and cars.
“It appeared the road was gone for good. For the first time in the history of the camp we could now walk back and forth to facilities in peace and safety without dodging traffic. The best part about it all was that our prayers were answered by an act of God.
The county diligently sought to find the best solution to the closure. Any thought of repairing the road again was abandoned. A detour was arranged while many options were considered, but funds were inadequate to build a new road.
Then Congressman Talcott informed the county he had secured a $2.1 million federal appropriation to help the county and state resolve the crisis. “This in itself,” recalled Bill, “was a miracle.”
Finally on June 8, 1971, after months of research, budget studies and public gatherings, the Santa Cruz Board of Supervisors met in their sixth hearing on the matter, and with 300 local residents looking on the supervisors voted at 2 a.m. to accept the federal grant and work with the state and their own funds to build a new road. “It was a day I shall never forget,” said Bill.
In July 1972 the New Mount Hermon Road “Bypass” opened to traffic. Everyone celebrated — the community, local residents and elected officials.
Today, God’s fingerprints are still on the grounds. The massive chunk of land that slid off the mountainside that rain-soaked night is still there where cars and trucks once roared. Today, trees have grown up along a forested path where campers still-walk — and where Bill Gwinn spied the approaching clouds, slipped into bed and then prayed, “Lord, why not tonight?”