T P O

T   P   O
The Patient Ox (aka Hénock Gugsa)

G r e e t i n g s !

** TPO **
A personal blog with diverse topicality and multiple interests!


On the menu ... politics, music, poetry, and other good stuff.
There is humor, but there is blunt seriousness here as well!


Parfois, on parle français ici aussi. Je suis un francophile .... Bienvenue à tous!

* Your comments and evaluations are appreciated ! *

Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Hardly a Standoff ! - by Anonymous

 
Carroll O'Connor
Hardly a Standoff !
by Anonymous

~~~~~~ // ~~~~~~
[ There is nothing worse than a Doctor's receptionist who insists you tell her what is wrong with you in a room full of other patients.  Most of us have probably experienced this, but we have to admire how this old guy handled it. ]

A 65-year-old man walked into a crowded waiting room and approached the desk.

The receptionist said, "Yes sir, what are you seeing the Doctor for today?"

"There's something wrong with my dick," he replied.

The receptionist became irritated and said, "You shouldn't come into a crowded waiting room and say things like that."

"Why not, you asked me what was wrong and I told you," he said.

The receptionist replied, "You've just caused some embarrassment in this room full of people. You should have said there is something wrong with your ear or something and discussed the problem further with the Doctor in private."

The man replied, "Then you shouldn't be asking people questions like that in a roomful of strangers if the answer could embarrass anyone."  

He then walked out, waited several minutes, and then re-entered.

The receptionist smiled smugly and asked, "Yes??"

"There's something wrong with my ear," he stated.

The receptionist nodded approvingly and smiled, knowing he had taken her advice.  "And what is wrong with your ear, sir?"

"I can't piss out of it," he replied.

The waiting room erupted in laughter !!!!
_________________________________________________

Moral ===> Mess with seniors, and you're going to lose!


Monday, July 17, 2017

A Little Political Humor ~ by Hénock Gugsa



A Little Political Humor
from Ethiopia
`````` === ``````
A renowned political scholar was recently asked what finally becomes of a starving people.  He responded, "That's obvious ... they will do the most immediate thing to quell their hunger ... they will eat their rulers!"

Journalists followed up: "So why haven't the Ethiopians gorged on their leaders in response to the current famine?"

The scholar was far from being nonplussed.  He replied, "Ethiopians are comprised of Coptic Christians and Muslims.   You all know very well that in both religions, it is expressly forbidden to eat pork!"



Thursday, May 4, 2017

The Ducks at Nokomis ~ by Hénock Gugsa


The Ducks at Nokomis
by
Hénock Gugsa
=== // === 
 

~ It's "Seven Brothers for One Bride" !
~ Baby, there's a whole lot of clucking & quacking going on !!!

 

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Adam and Eve's Plight ~~~ Eve's Diary


 Adam and Eve's Plight
~ extracted from Eve's Diary ~ *
=====================
....
Today, in a wood, we heard a Voice.

We hunted for it, but could not find it.  Adam said he had heard it before, but had never seen it, though he had been quite close to it.  So he was sure it was like the air, and could not be seen.  I asked him to tell me all he knew about the Voice, but he knew very little.  It was Lord of the Garden, he said, and had told him to dress the Garden and keep it; and it had said we must not eat of the fruit of a certain tree and that if we ate of it we should surely die.  Our death would be certain.  That was all he knew.  I wanted to see the tree, so we had a pleasant long walk to where it stood alone in a secluded and lovely spot, and there we sat down and looked long at it with interest, and talked.  Adam said it was the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

"Good and evil?"
"Yes."
"What is that?"
"What is what?"
"Why, those things.  What is good?"
"I do not know.  How should I know?"
"Well, then, what is evil?"
"I suppose it is the name of something, but I do not know what."
"But, Adam, you must have some idea of what it is."
"Why should I have some idea?  I have never seen the thing, how am I to form any conception of it?  What is your own notion of it?"

Of course I had none, and it was unreasonable of me to require him to have one.  There was no way for either of us to guess what it might be.  It was a new word, like the other; we had not heard them before, and they meant nothing to us.  My mind kept running on the matter, and presently I said, "Adam, there are those other new words - die, and death.  What do they mean?"

"I have no idea."
"Well, then, what do you think they mean?"
"My child, cannot you see that it is impossible for me to make even a plausible guess concerning a matter about which I am absolutely ignorant?  A person can't think when he has no material to think with.  Isn't that true?"
"Yes - I know it; but how vexatious it is.  Just because I can't know, I all the more want to know."

We sat silent a while turning the puzzle over in our minds: then all at once I saw how to find out, and was surprised that we had not thought of it in the beginning, it was so simple.  I sprang up and said, "How stupid we are!  Let us eat of it; we shall die, and then we shall know what it is, and not have any more bother about it."
....

________________________
* Source:  Mark Twain: Letters From The Earth, Crest Books, 1963



Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Jean-Baptiste, the Farmer/Trader - by TPO


click on the picture to enlarge !


Jean-Baptiste, the Farmer/Trader *
(A folk tale from Lorraine in Northeast France)*
===============================


In days of yore, in France as elsewhere in the world, the economy or business activity of societies was not very sophisticated because money was scarce.  Everything was done at a very basic level of simple barters or trade exchanges.  Farmers were traders, and there were no middle men because the exchanges were made directly between the farmers at the market place or village fair.

So then to our story … there once was a poor farmer named Jean-Baptiste and his wife Marguerite who worked hard and lived humbly at their little farm in the countryside. 

One day, Marguerite said to her husband, "Jean-Baptiste, we are so poor this year that we won't pull through at all unless you go and do a little trading at the market.  I hear that farmers go there and do some business and are prospering nicely.  Even our neighbor has become wealthy and has money."

But her husband protested, "But dear Marguerite, you know that I don't know how to trade." 

"Don't say that, darling.  Trading is not all that difficult, all you need to do is exchange what we have for what we don't have."

"I tell you I'll do a bad job of it, and you will be angry with me … and you'll stop speaking to me."

"My dear husband, I know that we'll not always succeed in our efforts, but nothing can stop us from trying.  We have a cow ... go take her to the market and do some trading.  After that, we'll see how we have done."

So, Jean-Baptiste took the cow out of the barn and set off on his way to the market.  He had not gone very far when he ran into another peasant who was dragging a goat behind him.

> Hey, Jean-Baptiste, where are you headed?
> I’m on my way to do some trading at the market.  But I don’t know how I’ll do there.
> That is not complicated at all.  What will you be bartering there, my lad?
> My wife wants me to trade our cow.
> Well … you don’t have to go any further.  I’ll trade my goat for your cow right here and right now.

Jean-Baptiste reflected on the matter.  He took his hat (his beret) off, and scratched his head.  Then, he said, “Good, agreed.  It’s a deal.”

Decisively and on the spot, he bartered the cow for the goat and resumed his journey.  While trudging through a long stretch of land, he came across a peasant who was carrying a goose in his arm.

“And where may you be headed, Jean-Baptiste?” The peasant inquired.
> I’m going to the fair to trade my goat.
> Ah!  So you barter, do you?  And what do you have to trade as such?
> Well, to start with, I traded my cow for this goat.  Now I’m going to barter this goat.
> Alright then, you are doing really well.  The more one trades, the better one gets in business.  Would you care to trade your goat for my goose?

Jean-Baptiste agreed, and the two exchanged their animals.  Our hero set off again on his way to the market … but this time, with a goose in his arm.  A bit further down the road, he met a man carrying a rooster in a basket.  Pretty much in the same fashion, Jean-Baptiste bartered again and he traded the goose for the rooster.

At long last, he arrived at the village and, just at the entrance, he observed an old woman who was collecting dung in the street.

He asked the woman, “Do you ever make money from that?”
“Enough,” she replied.
“Would you trade the dung for my rooster?”

The old woman did not hesitate for a second, and they right away exchanged their possessions.  Quite content with his trading so far, Jean-Baptiste arrived at the main fair where he met his wealthy neighbor.

> Hey, there you are, Jean-Baptiste.  Did your bartering go well?
> Oh that, yes.  I traded my cow for a goat.
> But, what is Marguerite going to say about that?
> She will be content.  But that’s not all.  After that, I traded my goat for a goose, and the goose for a rooster.
> You parted with your cow for just that … you have been doing some strange trading.  Are you sure Marguerite will be happy?
> I tell you she will be quite content.  I’m very certain of it.
> She must not be a difficult person to please then.  But me, I would not want to be in your shoes when you return home tonight.
> Hold on, that’s not all.  Later, I bartered the rooster for the dung that I have here with me.
> Well, okay.  I won’t say anything more.  If your wife does not get mad this time, I will have seen everything.
> Marguerite will be quite happy.
> Really?  Well, I doubt that.
> That’s because you do not know her like I do.
> Well then let’s bet on it.
> How much?
> I’ll bet you two-hundred francs.  If she gives you trouble, you’ll pay me.  If she does not, it will be me who pays up.
> Alright.  Agreed!

So, they both together returned to Jean-Baptiste’s farm and entered his cottage.

> Well, Jean-Baptiste, did you do good business?
> Of-course, my Cherié.  I traded our cow for a goat.
> So much the better.  We don’t have enough hay for a cow anyway.  But it will be enough for a goat; and what’s more, the goat will give us some milk.
> Yes, but then I bartered the goat for a goose.
> Very good.  Just what I've wanted … I’ll have enough feathers for our pillows.
> Yes, but then I traded the goose for a rooster.
> That’s very good indeed.  I have noticed that we oversleep in the morning.  It could wake us up at a good, early hour in the morning.  That would give us an extra hour for our work!
> But, then finally, I bartered the rooster for this dung that I brought home with me.
> Even better.  It is needed in our garden.  My flowers will grow and bloom so well, and I will be able to make beautiful bouquets.

The neighbor had heard enough.  He said, “Here are your two-hundred francs, Jean-Baptiste.  But, above all promise me, don’t ever trade your wife for anything.  You will never find anything to equal her worth!”
______________________________________________
*Source : Vary, Andrée , “Les Trocs de Jean-Baptiste”, Contes et Légendes de France, National Text book Company, 1993 
______________________________________________
*Revised, adapted, and translated from the French original by: Hénock Gugsa
 

Saturday, October 29, 2016

A Mental Hurdle ?! - by Anonymous


A Mental Hurdle ?!
~~ by Anonymous ~~
====================
During a visit to the mental asylum, I asked the Director how do you determine whether or not a patient should be institutionalized.

"Well," said the Director, "we fill up a bathtub, then we offer a teaspoon, a teacup and a bucket to the patient and ask him or her to empty the bathtub."

"Oh, I understand," I said. "A normal person would use the bucket because its bigger than the spoon or the teacup."

"No." said the Director, "A normal person would pull the plug. Do you want a bed near the window?"

Winona Ryder


Monday, October 17, 2016

Insane Asylum Admission Criteria - by TPO


Insane Asylum Admission Criteria *
=== by TPO ===
Some of these reasons are, IMO, possibly applicable to the orange-headed Presidential candidate of 2016 .... By order of strength of validity ===>
~~ Egotism
~~ Bad habits and political excitment
~~ Greediness
~~ Gathering in the head [very appropriately so!]
~~ Brain fever
~~ Intemperance and business trouble
~~ Immoral life
~~ Excessive sexual abuse
~~ Dissolute habits
~~ Vicious vices
~~ Feebleness of intellect
-------------------------------------------------------------
* log book of the West Virginia Hospital for the Insane, 
archived by West Virginia Division of Culture and History 

Friday, October 14, 2016

Common Pitfalls of Sudden Wealth - by The Onion


Common Pitfalls Of Sudden Wealth  *
-- by The Onion --

~~ No longer any need to partake in thrilling hunt of finding cheapest airfare.  
~~ IRS suddenly beating down your door to snatch away huge portions of your  hard-inherited money.
~~ Have to purchase 1,436 mattresses to store your fortune.
~~ Exterminator can’t do anything about the members of Congress in your living room.  
~~ No excuse for your face to still look like that.  ---------------------------------------------------------------------
* Source: The Onion, 9/28/2016

Hilarious?! ... Right?!


Wednesday, October 5, 2016

How to Hit the Powerball - by Tim Torkildson


How to Hit the Powerball *
(a sure-fire formula, Guaranteed!)
- by Tim Torkildson -
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
I aim to hit the Powerball just once in my short span;
and I have got a logical and foolproof master plan.

First I take my birth date and divide it by 16,
then I add that number to the price of Ovaltine.

Next I take the license plate of any car I pass
and multiply it by the days until I mow my grass.

Finally I cast my horoscope with a hand of Uno,
and divide it by the temperature up there in snowy Juneau.
I come up with a number that is guaranteed to win,
and write it down upon a piece of certified buckskin.
I’ll share my system with you for a negligible fee
(since I have been quite broke since back in ’63…).

----------------------------------------------------------------

*Bulletin Board, Saint Paul Pioneer Press, October 2, 2016
Christopher Walken
 

Monday, October 3, 2016

Marriage, Old Testament Style! - by Hénock Gugsa


Marriage, Old Testament Style !
- by Hénock Gugsa -

Please click inside the picture to enlarge.

The wise king, Solomon, had 700 wives and 300 concubines !!
All those women ...
and he would be hard pressed to visit anyone of them more than 2.74 times a year on a fair rotation system !!!

uh wah ...

Sunday, September 18, 2016

A Glut of Cheese - by Tim Torkildson



love of cheese

A Glut of Cheese
by 

Tim Torkildson *
////// ~~~~ //////

In response to the news from the Wall Street Journal: "America has built up a glut of cheese so big that every person in the country would need to eat an extra 3 pounds this year to work it off."

A little limerick ====>

Our nation has got too much cheese.
The Camembert comes to our knees.
I think that we’d better
eat lots more of cheddar —
who cares if we get heart disease?

_____________________________________________

* "Bulletin Board", St. Paul Pioneer Press, 5/18/16 


gut sucker


Monday, September 5, 2016

Ah, the Past! - by the Doryman



Ah, the Past!
by the Doryman *

 ====== ||| ======

Every blasted time I see a black Lab, I think of Dinah. She was an Iowa farm dog, about my age, way back there in the ’50s. I would see her on occasional Christmas holidays when my parents and I would visit her master, my Aunt June. Dinah could perform two tricks. The commands were: ‘Sittest-the-back-end-down, Dinah’ and ‘lookest-thee-out-the-window, Dinah.’ She was as dependable as the comfort of the living room’s wingback leather chair and the scent of the nearby oil stove.

Every blasted time I smell diesel exhaust, I am reminded of the cozy winter nights of my childhood when I would drift off to the droning voices of loved one’s stories. My memory of those times is like a gallery of Norman Rockwell paintings.

Now there are more and more blasted times. One thought leads to another, and they often end up somewhere in the past. Ah, the past. It’s edging out the future in my mind’s eye as I grow older. I suppose because there is so much more of it.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
* Source: Bulletin Board, St. Paul Pioneer Press, Aug. 31, 2016
Out of the past, the end!