93.
(Overheard in a conversation between God and St. Francis)
God: Francis, you know all about gardens and nature; what in the world is going on down there in the U.S.? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistles and the stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil withstand drought, and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees, and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of color by now. All I see are patches of green.
St. Francis: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. They are called the Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.
God: Grass? But it is so boring, it's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, bees or birds, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want grass growing?
St. Francis: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it has grown a little, they cut it.
God: They cut it? Do they bale it like hay?
St Francis: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.
God: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop they can sell?
St. Francis: No, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.
God: Let me get this straight. .. . they fertilize it to make it grow. When it does grow, they cut it and pay to throw it away?
St. Francis: Yes, sir.
God: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.
St. Francis: You aren't going to believe this Lord, but when the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.
God: What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep the moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves become compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.
St. Francis: You'd better sit down, Lord. As soon as the leaves fall, the Suburbanites rake them into piles and pay to have them hauled away.
God: No way! What do they do to protect the shrubs and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?
St Francis: After throwing the leaves away, they buy something called mulch and spread it around to replace the leaves.
God: And where does this mulch come from?
St. Francis: They cut down trees and grind them up to make mulch.
God: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for tonight?
St. Catherine: "Dumb and Dumber," Lord. It's a really stupid movie about. . .
God: Never mind--I think I just heard the whole story from Saint Francis!
94.
A man and his date were taking a stroll on the streets of New York City on a Friday afternoon. Presently, they came upon a furrier selling fine imported fur coats. The man suggested she try some on, and she agreed. After trying several on, she found one that was perfect.
"This one is absoulutely LOVELY!" she exclaimed to her boyfriend. "Well, okay, if you want it I guess we'll take it," he told the furrier. To this, the furrier replied, "Sir that is a fine coat of Mink, and it looks lovely on you, ma'am, but it is a $50,000 coat!" "Excellent!" the man said, "will you take a personal check?"
"Of course, sir, but you will have to wait until Monday so the check can get cleared." "Very well." said the man, writing the check and handing it over to the furrier, all in the eyes of his companion. The couple walked on, and the girl couldn't believe her date would spend that much money on her, for a coat, too!!!
Monday rolled around and the man went to the furrier to pick up the coat. When he got there, the furrier greeted him and then frowned, "Sir, are you aware that there are only $584 in your checking account? I'm afraid you cannot have this coat."
"Yes, I'm more than well aware of this," replied the man with a great big grin on his face, "but let me tell you, with her thinking that coat was hers, I had the weekend of my life!"
95.
An old Italian man lived alone in the country. He wanted to dig his tomato garden but it was very hard work as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament.
Dear Vincent,
I am feeling pretty badly because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me.
Love, Dad
A few days later he received a letter from his son:
Dear Dad,
Don't dig up that garden. That's where I buried the bodies.
Love, Vinnie
At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.
That same day the old man received another letter from his son:
Dear Dad,
Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances.
Love, Vinnie
96.
A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to "Dad." With the worst premonition he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.
Dear Dad:
It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with mom and you. I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it's not only the passion...Dad she's pregnant. Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children. Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone. We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy. In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it. Don't worry Dad. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.
Love,
Your Son John
(Signed and dated)
P.S. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tommy's house. I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than the report card that's in my center desk drawer. I love you. Call me when it's safe to come home.
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