I selected a few of my true-life entries from my "humor and fun stories" files to share here with you. (I have dozens of them)
My sister-in-law’s husband loved hot peppers and so did his dog. The next day after eating them, the dog would be squatting in the yard howling his head off. I guess they were burning hot going in and burning hot going out.
I never thought to ask my sister-in-law if her hubby howled the next day like his dog.
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When I was about 20 or so, sometimes I would roll into my hometown at 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning. Our local town cop would often pull me over in the middle of town and ask how my car was running that night. You see, his squad car was exactly like mine - outfitted the same way, same engine, etc.
He would suggest that we find out which car was the best, then, we would go out onto a straight highway and race. This took place in South Dakota in the middle of the night, and no one else was out there. We would go from a standing start to over 130 mph side by side on the highway. I would always beat him.
The next day he would always bring his police car into the shop for a tune-up where I worked as a mechanic, and would tell me to fix it. However, for some reason that never seemed to help.
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I can often find humor in some of the strangest things, and today was one of those times.
I answered my doorbell this afternoon to find a big burley guy from a tree trimming company looking for work. He looked like a cross between Paul Bunyan, the legendary woodsman, and Tennessee Ernie Ford's Big Bad John.
You all remember “Big Bad John”:
He stood six-foot-six and weighed two-forty-five,
Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip,
Everybody knew you didn't give no lip to Big John.
Big Bad John
Anyway, after I told him my trees didn't need trimming, he backed away several steps and turned around to leave. Then, I saw him leap about two feet into the air while screaming, "Yi! Aggrrh! Ohhh! Ahh! Whoa, man!" (Now, imagine that mix of sounds as all one word).
It seems that the big snake that's been hanging around out in front of my house decided to crawl onto my little sidewalk to see what was going on. Big Bad John had almost stepped on the snake before he saw it. Big John suddenly had a major panic attack. (the snake was at least 3' long and bigger around than a broom handle – it was not a garter snake, but I don't know what kind it was). He said he was deathly afraid of snakes, and would rather be attacked by a pack of rabid pit bulls.
I told him he could take the snake home with him, but he wasn't interested. Big John made a quick exit! I'm sorry, but I found humor in that situation.
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I saw something interesting (and humorous, too) along the roadway this morning while driving to church. Ahead in the distance next to the pavement, I saw what appeared to be a hen turkey searching for food in the grassy areas of the ground. Then, close to the hen was what seemed to be a very large gray/brown/black round shaped object - but the strange object was slowly moving around.
As I drove closer I could see that the large round object was actually a tom turkey with his body feathers fluffed out, and his tail feathers fully displayed in a wide fan shape – as is typically shown in pictures. The tom seemed very determined while strutting around and doing his best to gain the hen's attention. Using all of his full-feathered pride, the poor guy was trying to do everything in the book to be noticed. Mr. Tom had serious sex on his mind.
The part I found rather humorous was that she was ignoring him. The hen seemed more interested in filling her gizzard with roadside gravel than she was in playing kissy face with some old hot-to-trot bird. She was undoubtedly playing the hard-to-get game with Old Tom - not unlike females of the human kind.
But then, perhaps that was just her way of saying, “Not now, dear...I have a headache.” As I slowly drove by them, the game continued...
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When I was 10 or 11 years old, my dad came to me and told me he noticed a large fresh hole had been dug under the corner of our farmhouse near the back door. He said he didn't want critters under there, so he asked me to try to catch it. I looked at the hole and set a staked down steel trap next to it.
The next morning my dad woke me before he went to work and said I had caught something already, and that I should take care of it. I thought, no problem - I got dressed and went down to take a look. In the trap was a leg caught skunk with an annoyed look on his face. Again, no problem. I picked up the rifle, loaded it with a couple of shells, and slowly pointed it out through the slightly open screen door and took aim.
Now, I don't know if I was a little nervous or if a breeze moved the screen door, but my shot missed the skunk standing only 8-10 feet away. Anyway, the skunk saw me, turned around, and with what seemed like a slight smile on its face, he proceeded to give me a shot of his own. When that stream of skunk spray hit the door screen, it atomized and filled the entire house with its mind numbing, eye watering perfume that only skunks are blessed with. With my eyes burning, my second shot hit its mark.
I took the skunk into the woods and buried it before going to school. I do think I changed clothes before going to school, but it probably didn't do much good. It might not have mattered though, because farm kids went to school in those days with all sorts of stuff on their shoes and boots after feeding the cows. It was normal and nobody seemed to notice.
The entire house reeked for a few weeks as did the area around the house for at least 100 yards.