JOKES OF THE DAY

The clerk was ready to take his order for a funeral piece, based on the look on Doug's face, but soon realized his assumption was wrong as Doug asked for a basket of flowers sent to his wife for their anniversary.

"And what day will that be?" the clerk asked.

Glumly he replied, "Yesterday".

A farmer looses his prize stud rooster just when he needs his hens fertilized most for some new chicks. He looks all over the county for a new stud rooster and finally finds one about to be killed at the slaughter house.

The butcher says, "No you don't want this one he's too horny."

The farmer says, "Perfect I'll take him." He turns the rooster loose in the hen house and hears nothing but squawking hens all day. He's eating supper and hears the ducks starting to quack loudly on the pond. He's getting ready for bed and hears the cows bellowing in the barn.

The next morning he wakes up to the sound of the pigs squealing. So he locks his wife and daughter in the house so the rooster won't get them, walks outside and finds the rooster laying exhausted and dehydrated in the driveway with buzzards circling overhead.

He walks to the rooster and says, "Gol-dang it rooster if you'd have paced yourself, you could have had the run of this place for years" The rooster looks at him with one eye cocked open, points to the buzzards and whispers, "Shhhhhh. They're about ready to land, Shhh.”

An elderly man lay dying in his bed. In death's agony, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled down the stairs.

With labored breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven: there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted: the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.

The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with aspatula by his wife.

"Stay out of those," she said, "they're for the funeral."