Bishop’s Mantle column by Jim Bishop
Sitting and pondering at length where the moon goes after it slips over the western horizon, suddenly it dawned on me: A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where train stops. On my desk, I have a work station … what more can I say?
Why labor on when I can postpone tasks and decisions for the foreseeable future, almost like playing Solitaire without a full deck – which reminds me …
Marriage is somewhat like a game of cards: It starts with a pair. They go to a club. He acts the joker and she the queen. He shows a diamond. She shows a flush. Two hearts are joined, there’s a big shuffle, and they wind up with a full house. To which you may retort – big deal!
Love is blind; marriage is the eye-opener.
A married couple was arguing while sitting in bed. The wife said to her husband, “You’re impossible,” to which the husband replied, “No. I’m next to impossible.”
Husband’s note on refrigerator for wife: “Someone from the Gyna Colleges called. They said the Pabst beer is normal. I didn’t know you liked beer.”
A boiled egg in the morning is hard to beat (the yolk’s on you).
I was going to study the work of Sigmund Freud, but I was too Jung to understand it.
If a tree falls in the forest with no one to hear it, who will notify the next of kindling?
Why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up a project, I end it?
Why is it that when I open my mouth, like Moses, the bull rushes?
(Did you know that “Why” by Frankie Avalon was the No. 1 song in the country on the last week of December 1959?)
Now you do, but don’t ask me why.
The hardest decision in life is when to start middle age. Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened.
An elderly woman decided to prepare her will and told her preacher she had two final requests. First, she wanted to be cremated, and secondly, she wanted her ashes scattered over Wal-Mart. “Wal-Mart?” the preacher exclaimed. “Why Wal-Mart?” Her response: “Then I’ll be sure my daughters visit me twice a week.”
My memory’s not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory’s not as sharp as it used to be.
“Do you believe in life after death?” the boss asked the employee. “Oh, yes sir,” he replied. “I’m glad to hear that,” the boss went on. “After you left the office early yesterday to go to your grandmother’s funeral, she stopped in to see you.”
J.S. Bach broke his collarbone, and his doctors replaced it with a metal one. It was, however, too flexible, so they replaced that one with a collarbone made of specially heat-treated steel. Thus, the “well tempered clavicle.”
(Sorry . . . we’re decomposing.)
Now, more Rhettorical questions (gone with the Schwinn) …
Q: What do you do if you’re attacked by a troupe of circus performers? A: Go for the juggler (a vein attempt?).
Q: How do you insult an antique dealer? A: Ask him “What’s New?”
Q: What do you get when you cross a porcupine with an alarm clock? A: A stickler for punctuality.
Q: What do you call an arrogant fugitive falling from a building? A: Condescending.
The problem with darkhorse candidates? You don’t know their track records until you’re saddled with them.
Bargain: something you can’t use at a price you can’t resist.
“Too many people spend money they haven’t earned, to buy things they don’t want, to impress people they don’t like.” – Will Rogers (1879-1935)
Light travels faster than sound. That is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
Two students were driving through Louisiana. As they were approaching the town of Natchitoches, they started arguing about the pronunciation of the name. They argued back and forth until they stopped for lunch. As they stood at the counter, one asked the manager, “Before we order, could you settle an argument for us? Would you please pronounce where we are, very slowly?”
The manager leaned over the counter and said, “Burrrrrrrr-gerrrrrrr-Kiiiiing.”
A man passing an orchard noticed a farmer with a herd of pigs gathered around his feet. The farmer was holding a pig up above his shoulder so it could bite off an apple. Then, he put the pig down and raised another, then another. The passerby shouted to the farmer: “Why don’t you just shake the tree and let the apples fall on the ground? That would save a lot of time.” The farmer responded, “What do pigs care about time?”
“Information? I need the number of the Caseway Insurance Company.” “Would you spell that, please?” “Certainly. C as in sea. A as in aye. S as in sea. E as in eye. W as in why. A as in are. Y as in you.” “Just a minute, sir. I’ll connect you with my supervisor.”
Want to bet a dangling conversation ensued? Enough said.
The rest is silence …
Jim Bishop, for reasons past finding out, is still public information officer at Eastern Mennonite University. He can be called on the carpet (no tacks, please) at [email protected].
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