sometimes i just think things are funny

Although I disagree with the author of xkcd on some things (based on comics they've drawn) I can't help but laugh at them most of the time.

And this one probably isn't the funniest in the world, but I guffawed out loud.



(Maybe it's because I'm easily startled...)

-joe

the spoof

I recently found this again on Google Video and put it on my Facebook page. I thought I'd post it here for you. Hope you get a chuckle.



And, for those of you who have never seen the original..........shame on you. But, here you go anyway.



-joe

there is no way to introduce this video

(HT: Randy)

-joe
(Facebook click through for the video.)

my new front end

Insurance that doesn't cover hitting a deer: $46 monthly

Gas to get to and from the wedding: $34.68

Pepsi and Gardetto's to keep me awake: $4.18

New grill for my truck: $94.60

Knowing that God was gracious enough not to let me die in a car wreck:

Priceless

Below is a picture of my new front end courtesy of my cousin's junk yard.

the goats that had bloat

The Goats That Had Bloat
By: Dr. Chevon

My neighbor, the farmer, has a big farm.
With chickens and tractors and pigeons and barns.
It has pickles and carrots,
It has sickles and parrots.
He keeps pigs and cows and bottle-necked sheep
All penned in their places, at night they would sleep.

Over all of these things their dog makes sure
That nothing can harm them, not even a bur.

Over tractors and parrots and barns he keeps watch
Checking pickles and carrots and sickles for spots
He herds chickens and pigeons and bottle-necked sheep
Keeping cows, pigs and piglets all safe in their sleep.

There are many things funny you find on a farm
but only a few are cause for alarm.
One of the things that may happen at times
Is a serious thing that makes for good rhymes.

Occurring in mammals, this thing that we discuss
Within one of the species it really makes fuss.
This thing that I speak of is known of as "bloat"
The beast that most gets it is known as a goat.

And thus, my dear friends, the story begins
In a field on a farm right next to the hens.

You see, my good neighbor had just received
(as a gift from my grandpa on All Hallow's Eve)
A goat with three horns and one with but two
And wouldn't you know it, they both had the flu.

Luck'ly for them, the bottle-necked sheep
Are real good at nursing; they revived in a week.
But just one month later a new sickness fell
Leaving both of those goats not feeling too well.

You see, those poor goats had gotten the bloat
From something they ate while drinking a coke.

They ate flubber and gibbards
And fake rubber lizzards.
They had green chimichangas
And wallaby bongas.

Bee bumbles and struddles they ate with a smile
Slurping and burping their cokes all the while.

"Why, don't they know?", you will cry out and ask,
"That doing such things will make you pass gas?"

Well, what you don't know is the poor brothers goat
Had never passed grade school and learned about "bloat."
So they ate and they drank and got all gassed up
But then something happened, they seemed to be stuck.

They felt the gurgling burgling deep down below
But nothing they did would cause them to blow.
They tried pills and drinks that promised a fix
and ended up worse, and then got the fits.

Now the fits are just bad, if you don't know
They make you grab needle and thread and sew.
(Now sewing isn't bad if you like to make dresses
But for goats with the bloat it just adds more messes.)

Well, the three-horned goat, whose name was Mo Miley
Decided to go to the doctor, Bill Highly.
Bill prodded and poked and looked down his throat
And said "You, good sir, are down with the bloat!"

Now Mo was just angry at the doc's diagnosis,
he already knew that very prognosis.
But his two-horned brother, who lived by the dam,
said "Don't worry, my brother, we'll get fixed by Shazam."

Shazam was the monkey at the Round Barn Golf Course
(who lived next to Grumpy, the crazy pole horse)
He made a living by making gray goo
That gets rid of the bloat but makes you turn blue.

So the two brother goat, who were sick with the bloat
Went down to the golf course, (the one with the moat)

When they got to the bridge to get to Shazam
Who might have the thing that could cure them, Ka-blam!
They fell in the water, those goats with the bloat,
And wouldn't you know it, away they did float.

They floated on down the Tippecanoe
And down the Wabash to the St. Louis zoo.
And now those poor brothers are on display
As "The Goats With the Bloat That Won't Go Away."

my latest with wildlife

It seems that those crazy critters that roam around Rochester have made it their goal to hit me these last few weeks. And so, true to form, on my way back from Chicago one of the big guys decided to take a shot at my trusty Ford.

I got to spend last Friday night and Saturday hanging out in Chicago for my good friends' wedding. (Congrats Nate and Emily!) Well, due to peer pressure (and because I like to hang out) I stayed in Chicago until about midnight. That means that I would be getting home to Rochester at about 4am Indiana time...I lost an hour coming home.

I stopped off near Valpo to catch a quick 20 minute nap because I was really struggling to stay awake. Then, I decided to grab a snack a little while later because it helps me stay awake.

At this point I've been up for about 18 hours, which we all know is like driving drunk. Or maybe only I know that because I research sleep to sell beds. Maybe.

I'm really struggling about 10 miles from home but I'm so close that I decide to push through. At about the 4 mile mark I pass a deer and say a quick "Please, don't let me hit a deer" prayer. Apparantly, God really wanted the opposite.

I remember passing Olson Road and then I remember waking up (about 100 yards down the highway) to a thud and the hoof of a huge (and I do mean huge) deer smacking my windshield.

Ordinarily people snap to alertness and start to freak-out when these things happen. Not me. I woke up, thought "I just hit a deer going 55mph" and then I drove home. I didn't even hit the brakes.

The next morning I found that my trusty Ford had suffered only a busted grill. Thank God that it wasn't worse. Here's a pick of the damage and a video of the Turdy Point Buck that I hit.

odd doings at fbc

Tonight, while I was sitting at the church studying (read: googling and watching dueling banjos on youtube) I heard a little squeak.

I got up and walked down the hallway, thinking that a friend was trying to sneak in and scare me (which happens on a fairly regular basis.) Seeing and hearing nothing, I went back to work.

So I'm sitting, as God ordained, reading and thinking and out of nowhere this HUGE! and I mean MONSTROUS! bat COMES FLYING AT ME AND HITS ME IN THE HEAD!!!

IN THE HEAD!! Not near my head, not next to my head, not around my head. INTO my head.

So, of course, I freak out a bit. The bat is bigger than most dogs and probably has 400 different kinds of rabies and bat flu. So, I do what any logical person would do. I run into the sanctuary and the bat follows me in.

After doing some sweet acrobatic maneuvers (that I learned from my gymnastics classes) I tumbled back into the office and slammed the door behind me, hoping that the bat had latched onto one of the giant rafters in the sanctuary.

Except, I forgot that I'd left the piano open and the light on. Not good. So, I took my Russian hat and flipped the piano shut and the light off.

Problem solved, until tomorrow...when the secretary gets here and a bat hits her in the head.

And, because I don't think you get how big this bat was...I'll draw you a picture:

-joe

what's been goin on in my head

Some folks have been asking why I haven't been blogging lately. Well, the truth is, I haven't had much good thinking going on lately. I mean, I worked on my last sermon for about 4 weeks and still didn't have it ready the night before.

Thankfully, I've had my youth lessons worked out for a couple of months...but they ran out this past Sunday. God will need to do some serious creative work in my head over the next week if I'm going to succeed in producing a sermon for Sunday and youth lessons for the rest of the school year.

In His providence, He has given me something to kick that creative gear on...enjoy:



-joe

(And, yes, that place exists. And, yes, that was really a commercial when I was growing up. "Feed the deer, ride the pony, feed the deer and ride the train...")

i'm a slacker...but this is funny

I've been out of commission on the blog scene these past couple of weeks...but I'll be back up and running next week.

In place of my usual posts I thought I'd leave you with something you could only find in Rochester, IN.

This picture was on the front page of our newspaper, the Sentinel, as well as their website. Under it was the following caption:

Brothers Darin, left, and Chad Pantle dress out an eight-point buck along Jefferson Street Monday. Chad, who took the buck with his muzzleloader Thanksgiving Day, plans to have the head mounted.

And people wonder where I get my crazy stories. I don't have to make things up...this stuff just happens.

-joe

upcoming and a funny

I am stoked about Sunday. You wanna know why? 2 reasons.

#1. I am preaching from Ephesians 4:11-16. Ephesians to me is like Galatians to Luther. I may call my future wife Ephesians. I can't wait to talk about Christ on Sunday. I'm jittery with excitement.

#2. I am talking through the first half of Romans 8 with the Sr. High. That passage is such a good follow-up from chapter 7 and there is a nice little break (in my opinion) that will allow me to teach for a couple of weeks on Biblical manhood and womanhood (a requested topic).

and now...the funny. (and no, I'm not going to tell my sweet knock-knock joke).
This is Dr. Jim Orrick. I have no idea who he is or what he thinks, but I saw this on Hershael York's blog and thought it was hilarious. Old man rap...gotta love it.



-joe

my family

Here is an email that I sent to my brother. It is fairly typical of what a night with the family produces. Absolute crazy.

The context of the email is this: about 15 years ago my brother was offered some pickled pigs feet by my grandpa. He took one...and took a bite. (which is enough to make most people stop reading, but please...read on). He nearly threw-up. The whole episode has become legendary. My little sister (who is 16) claims that not only was the entire family present at this little activity but that she vividly recalls the event. Which, if you do the math, means she remembers, with great clarity, something that happened when she was 1. So...in order to end the debate between us, i sent this email to my older brother. Hopefully he'll remember his own story and be able to lay the argument to rest.

pickled pigs feet...
when did you eat them?
have you eaten them more than once?
just recount the story to me.

we're having a bit of a debacle.
anna, seems to have remembered an event that may or may not have occurred. The rest of the family thinks she has completely lost her mind.
Dad, sides with her. But that is to be expected, because it has been evident for some time that he is completely insane as well.
Mom, has no opinion and cannot stop laughing...probably because she's nuts.
Amy left the room hours ago. She hates the family.
Mo won't let anyone pet him. He's freaked out by the whole thing. So freaked out that he shut his own pen. He wants no visitors.

Thanks,

Your brother (the one who knows the real pickled pigs feet story)

-joe

p.s. anna does not approve or endorse this message. paid for by the campaign to elect joe helt as ruler of all things dumb in the family. (which is entirely separate from the campaign to elect mark smiley...because my campaign understands the legal implications of the open door policy)

hope you enjoyed it.

-joe