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Smart Grandma In Hospital Joke: How To Keep Yourself Informed

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A sweet grandmother telephoned St. Joseph’s Hospital,

And she timidly asked,

“Is it possible to speak to someone who can tell me how a patient is doing?”

The operator responded,

“I’ll be glad to help, dear. What’s the patient’s name and room number?”

The grandmother in her weak tremulous voice said,

“Norma Findlay, Room 302.”

The operator replied,

“Let me place you on hold while I check with her nurse.”

After a few minutes the operator returned to the Phone.

“Oh, good news. Her nurse has told me that Norma is doing very well.

Her blood pressure is fine; Her blood work just came back as normal.

And her physician, Dr. Cohen, has scheduled her to be discharged Tuesday.”

The grandmother said,

“Thank you. That’s wonderful. I was so worried! God bless you for the good news.”

The operator replied,

“You’re more than welcome. Is Norma your daughter?

The grandmother said,

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“No, I’m Norma Findlay in Room 302. But no one tells me anything.!”

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A German, a Frenchman, an Englishman and a Brazilian appreciate the picture of Adam and Eve in Paradise.

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A German, a Frenchman, an Englishman and a Brazilian appreciate the picture of Adam and Eve in Paradise.

German comments:

“Look at what perfection of bodies: she, slender and haired; he, with his athletic body, his profiled muscles. They must be Germans.”

Frenchman replies:

“I don’t believe it. The eroticism from the figures is evident! She, so feminine, he, so masculine. They show that they know that soon the temptation will come. They must be French.”

Englishman ponder:

“See the serenity of their faces, the delicacy of the pose, the sobriety of the gestures. They can only be English.”

And after a few seconds of silent contemplation, the Brazilian states:

“I do not agree. Look well: they have no clothes, no house, only have one apple to eat, and believe they are in Paradise. They can only be Argentines!”

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I saw a man sitting alone in the park one day…

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I saw a man sitting alone in the park one day…

and I noticed how in his hand he held a one hundred dollar bill.

Interesting, I thought. I wouldn’t wave that much money around in the open. But that’s when I saw him reaching into a bag and pulling out a pair of scissors. As he moved the scissors towards the bill I got worried and yelled out

“Hey, man! What are you doing? You shouldn’t be wasting money like that!”

The man stopped what he was doing and looked at me. And with the saddest eyes he said

“I-I’m sorry. It’s… it’s just that I fell on hard times and… I’ve had to start cutting corners.”

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A meteor exploded as it flew narrowly by Earth..

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A meteor exploded as it flew narrowly by Earth..

Bolides streaked across the sky, peppering cities and deserts with smouldering fragments.

 

After addressing the inevitable loss of life, extensive property damage and the smashing of tens of thousands of mirrors, we gathered up the fragments from the craters where they lay. Scientists concluded that they were made from an ancient, inexplicable material and somehow.. alive.

 

We quickly understood, and prepared ourselves for the dialogs that were to follow. It took ten years before the first of them awoke and spoke to us. 

 

Ents, we called them. Otwoks, Groots, Old Men Willow. Names from the fairy-tales and games of old. Having spent much of their journey through the cold void of space in slumber, they had little to share with us in the ways of interstellar travel. Instead, they promised, they could offer us the fruits from their boughs, and the air-of-life where their leaves met the light of the yellow-sun. All they would need from us was a place where they and their ones-after could grow.

 

We agreed, and these talking-trees quickly found themselves in their new homes. Walled compounds, regularly irrigated, stretching for kilometres through the desert, alongside our solar-farms. Here, they would see the skies, moon and yellow-sun of our planet, the stars from whence they came, and nothing else. From time to time, we would enter and take what we were promised, and a bit more.

 

And so, as we cut them down, tear off their arms, scalp and flay them before throwing their raw, limbless, still-screaming bodies into hastily-refurbished furnaces, we can only wonder. Had they more to share with us, they could have taken part in the right kind of dialog.

 

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