Thanksgiving Funnies

Did you hear the one about the farmer who has his liabilities in the country but his assets in town? I like that one a lot. For more, go ahead and read Friday Letter #75.

Cannibals

There’s these two cannibals, see, hangin’ out in the jungle, down by the railroad tracks, taking a cigarette break.

After a while, they hear a train coming. You can hear trains coming from a long way off, in the jungle.

When the old steamer finally huffs and puffs into sight, the two cannibals notice right away that it’s a circus train.

There’s a giraffe’s head sticking out of a hole in the roof of one car, and the animal is gazing around with huge limpid brown eyes. The cannibals are so close to the train, they can even see the giraffe’s beautiful eyelashes, so beautiful they look like they have mascara on them.

The cannibals notice that the train has begun to slow down, making it even easier to see the lions and tigers pacing back and forth in their cages-on-wheels.

There are beautiful white horses in several train cars, and beautiful, athletic female equestrians in white sequined tights are tending to them as the train moves along.

Slowing almost to a crawl, the train brings the elephant car into view. The cannibals see the huge grey animals and notice an attendant cleaning copious amounts of elephant droppings from the steel floor, shoveling it off into the jungle.

One car after another passes the two cannibals, who are so entranced they don’t speak or make a sound – they just watch. Some train cars are built up as homes for the trapeze artists, the animal trainers, the sideshow staff, and a special one for the ringmaster. Through a window, the cannibals think they see the famous bearded lady.

As the caboose comes into view, the train finally comes to a halt. Perhaps there is some difficulty up ahead, or the engine has been stopped to take on coal and water.

One cannibal nudges the other, calling his attention to the open porch on the back of the caboose. There’s a circus clown sitting in a folding chair, his comical outsize shoes propped up on the safety railing. The clown is leaning back in the chair, smoking a cigarette.

The train is stopped. The cannibals look at each other, eyebrows raised, licking their lips.

When the train slowly begins moving again, the two cannibals bolt into action. They run up to the caboose, leap aboard, and grab the clown.

They take their captive clown back to their nearby village and put him in a big pot of water. They build a fire under the kettle, preparing the clown for dinner.

Later that night, the two cannibals and all their friends and family sit down for dinner. Our two cannibals get to sample the meal first, their honor because they were the ones who captured the clown.

So they commence. Then, with a strange look on his face, one cannibal says to the other, “Does this taste funny to you?”

Peg-leg pig

There were these two cousins, see. One lived in Denver, the other lived on a farm just outside Akron in Eastern Colorado.

The two cousins were talking on the phone one day, discussing the fact that they had never had the opportunity to get to know one another very well, and they were getting older.

So the Denver cousin says, “I’ve got some vacation time coming, maybe we could get together then.” The Akron cousin says, “You know, we’ve just about finished planting, and that means we could take a break. Why don’t you drive out and visit for a week or so?”

The Akron cousin says, fine, so they set up dates. But when the Denver cousin arrives, the Akron man has discovered some unfinished work and can’t take time off. (It’s a farm, see.)

So the Akron cousin says to the Denver cousin, “You just make yourself at home. Go anywhere you like, check it out. We’ll be home about 5, and Mother will have dinner ready. See you then.”

So the city slicker spends almost an entire day wandering around his cousin’s farm. There’s hardly anything he doesn’t understand, but it’s amusing hanging around with cows, chickens, pigs, big stacks of hay, abandoned machinery rusting away in rows, old trucks, pigeons and precariously leaning sheds.

When suppertime comes, the two cousins meet again. Time for dinner. Yum. Fried chicken, smashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, white gravy, dinner rolls and cherry pie for dessert.

During the after-dinner conversation, the country cousin asks the city slicker how he passed the day. The city boy says, “Your farm is pretty much what I expected. But I was interested in one thing.

“I saw a pig in the pen out there. This pig has a wooden leg.”

Says the country cousin with a smile, “Oh yeah, that’s Peggy. She’s a hero around here.”

So the city cousin is bound to ask, you know, how does a pig become a hero?

“Well, she saved my life. One day last summer I decided to take some time off and go fishing out at the slough.

“I put on my waders and got in the water, casting around for sunfish. Suddenly I stepped in a mud hole, I sank and my waders filled with water.

“I wasn’t hurt, but my feet stuck in the mud and I couldn’t get loose, couldn’t climb out. I was immobile. Peggy came along – would you believe it? She tried to pull me out. Grabbed my shirt collar with her teeth and pulled and pulled, but no good.

“First thing I know, she gives up on pulling and takes off running for the house, squealing all the way. She ran all the way there, and stood at the front door squealing until Mother came out.

“Then she took off like Lassie – you know, she’d run a ways, squealing, then stop to make sure Mother was following her, then she’d start up again until she got to me, stuck there in the mud.

“Mother went and got a ladder, reached it out to me, and eventually I climbed out, water-filled waders and all. In other words, that pig saved my life.”

So the city slicker gets a puzzled look on his face. “I for one am glad Peggy came to your assistance. But that doesn’t explain the wooden leg.”

The country cousin laughs again. He says: “Good pig like that? Don’t want to eat her all at once.”

-0-

Word of the week: Tryst. This one is from Middle English and Old French, tristre, a hunting station, hence a meeting place for hunters. It now means an appointment to meet at a specified time and place, as made by lovers. A good synonym is “rendezvous.”

Next week’s word: Since we’re suspending publication next week for the Thanksgiving holiday, we’ll postpone the word until the week after that. Look for us again Dec. 5.

Gripes? Complaints? Whines? or Comments? Adoration? Puppy love? Reciprocal rant? Feel free to express yourself in the comments below!