Halloween costumes is mask production

Why do girl ghosts go on diets?
So they can keep their ghoulish figures.

Whom did the ghost invite to his party?
Anyone he could dig up.

What happened to the monster that took the five o’clock train home?
He had to give it back.

How can you send mail to skeletons?
Bony Express

Why couldn’t Dracula’s wife get to sleep?
Because of his coffin.

Why aren’t there any famous skeletons?
They’re a bunch of no bodies.

Why don’t witches like to ride their brooms when they’re angry?
They’re afraid of flying off the handle.
(Norman Gilbert)

Why did the vampire joined the police force?
So he could learn the correct way to get a stakeout.

Why did the skeleton go to hospital?
To have his ghoul stones removed.

What do you call a skeleton who won’t get up in the mornings?
Lazy bones

What happened to the boat that sank in the sea full of piranha fish?
It came back with a skeleton crew.

Why do ghosts have so much trouble dating?
Women can see right through them.

Why didn’t the Invisible Man get invited to the Halloween party?
They knew he wouldn’t show up.

Why wasn’t there any food left after the monster party?
Because everyone was a goblin.

How do mummies hide?
They wear masking tape.

Why didn’t the skeleton cross the road?
He didn’t have the guts.

Why do you always find ghouls and demons together?
Because demons are a ghoul’s best friend.

How can you tell that Doctor Frankenstein had a good sense of humor?
He kept his monster in stitches.

What do you call someone who puts poison in a person’s corn flakes?
A cereal killer.

How do crazy people go through the forest?
They take the psycho path.

What happened to the monster children who ate all their vegetables?
They gruesome.

What would you call the ghost of a door-to-door salesman?
A dead ringer

What do you call two witches living together?   Broommates

Why does the Mummy keep his Band-aids in the refrigerator?
He wants to use them later for cold cuts.

How do ghosts begin letters?
“Tomb it may concern.”

What is the best place for a haunted house?
On a dead end street.

What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?
Frostbite

After the flash on his camera malfunctioned, what did Satan get back
from the drugstore?  Prints of darkness

What kind of car do the German scientists who clone sheep drive?
Vee Double Ewe

Where did the goblin throw the football?
Over the ghoul line.

How does a witch tell time?
She looks at her witch watch.

What kind of makeup do ghosts wear?
Mas-scare-a.

What’s frightening and stuck on the end of your arm?
A terror wrist.

Who is the witches favorite singer?
Robert Ghoulet
(Stan Kegel)

Viperactive

Noah opens up the ark and let all the animals out, telling them to “Go forth and multiply!”

He’s closing the great doors of the ark when he notices that there are two snakes sitting in a dark corner.

So he says to them, “Didn’t you hear me? You can go now. Go forth and multiply.”

“We can’t,” said the snakes. “We’re adders.”

Stress is when you wake up screaming and you realize you haven’t fallen asleep yet.

I recently took a pole and found out 100% of the occupants were angry with me when their tent collapsed.

Yesterday I accidentally swallowed some food coloring. The doctor says I’m OK, but I feel like I’ve dyed a little inside.

DIAL A PRAYER

We have all learned to live with “voice mail” as a necessary part of modern life. But have you wondered what would happen if God decided to install voice mail? Imagine praying and hearing this:

Thank you for calling My Father’s House. Please select one of the following options:

Press 1 for Prayers
Press 2 for Thanksgiving
Press 3 for Complaints
Press 3 for All Other Inquiries.

I’m sorry, all of our angels are busy helping other sinners right now. However, your prayer is important to us and will be answered in the order it was received, so please stay on the line.

If you would like to hear King David sing a psalm while you are holding, please press 6.

To find out if a loved one has been assigned to Heaven, Press 7, enter his or her social security number, and then press the pound key. (If you get a negative response, try area code 666.)

For reservations at “My Father’s House,” please enter J-O-H-N followed by 3-1-6.

If you are calling trying to complain, you haven’t got a prayer, again try dialing 666

If you reached this number by mistake, thank providence and consider making a reservation enter J-O-H-N followed by 3-1-6.

We De-Liver

“Today,” said the college professor, “I will be lecturing about the kidneys,
intestines, pancreas, and the liver.”

One med student leaned toward his friend sitting next to him, “Great, we
have to sit through another organ recital.”

Gratitude and Grief: When a Loved One Dies on Thanksgiving

Losing her father on a holiday was hard, but it also allowed her family to truly celebrate his life. from Guide post

I walked into the hospice room. Dad was lying in bed—his eyes half-closed, his breathing barely audible. I’d rushed to Cleveland to be by his side. I’d been home in Alexandria, chopping vegetables for Thanksgiving dinner, when my sister, Nan, called.

“I got a call from the hospice,” she said. “Dad doesn’t have much longer.”

Oh, no! Not on Thanksgiving Eve, I thought.

Dad had Alzheimer’s. He’d been relatively stable until a series of infections prompted moves from assisted living to hospitals, rehab facilities, nursing homes and finally hospice in early September. It was agonizing to make the decision to separate him from our mom, who remained in assisted living.

I knew Dad’s life was coming to an end. But did it have to happen so close to Thanksgiving? It seemed tragic to lose a loved one on a holiday, our future celebrations tainted by grief. God’s timing is perfect, I tried to tell myself.

I hung up with Nan. I can make the drive, I thought, hoping Dad could hang on until I got there. I was throwing clothes into a suitcase when something urged me to look up flights. I found two that night with seats. I booked a ticket.

Then there was the matter of getting to the airport. My husband, Hal, and I saw news reports of roads clogged with holiday traffic. But once we got on the road, cars sped along the highway, almost as if willed forward. We got to the Baltimore airport in record time.

Now here I was in dad’s hospice room on Thanksgiving morning. “Hi, Dad. It’s me, Barb,” I said as I leaned over to kiss him. I put on one of his favorite CDs and pulled a chair close to his bed. We listened to the gospel quartet The Jubilee Hummingbirds sing “Free at Last.”

I took Dad’s hand. “Father God, thank you for blessing me with a wonderful father,” I said. “Thank you for his life. Please welcome him into your kingdom.”

I repeated my prayer until Dad opened his eyes. We had been together only 20 minutes. Had the Lord given him a reprieve? “Dad?” I asked. He yawned and took a deep breath before settling back into bed. Then he didn’t breathe again.

I ran into the hall for an aide. Moments later, two nurses were at Dad’s bedside. They checked his heartbeat and pulse. “I’m so sorry,” one nurse said.

I bent over and wailed—in grief yet also in gratitude. “Thank you, Lord, that he was not alone in his passing,” I whispered.

It wasn’t long before Nan and Mom arrived. Tears welled in Mom’s eyes as she stroked Dad’s face. They had been married for more than six decades. I couldn’t imagine the sense of loss she felt.

We drove to Nan’s house. It felt surreal to carry on with Thanksgiving, but we knew Dad would’ve wanted it.

So we roasted the turkey, heated the ham and cooked collard greens. We even made Dad’s favorite dish, “sweet potato stuff”: mashed sweet potatoes with brown sugar, butter, vanilla and cinnamon. Our family gathered around the table, heads bowed. I led us in grace.

“Thank you, Lord, for allowing us to be together at this time. Thank you for Dad’s life and all that he meant to us. Be with us now, and grant us your strength in the days ahead. Thank you for the food and all who prepared it. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.”

We passed the heaping platters of food around the table, from one family member to the next. It made me think of the full and wonderful life my father had lived, surrounded by people he loved—a life Dad had always been grateful for. Yes, it was fitting for God to call him home on Thanksgiving, even making it possible for me to be with Dad at the end. The timing was perfect indeed.

 

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