My favorite joke

Today, I’m really glad to have a Monday joke lined up, because I’m going to do something kind of awful first, and I don’t want you to be mad at me.

Here is this video.  I guess it’s a local TV station that gives political candidates a minute or so to make their case directly to the voter.  So here’s what one guy came up with:

Now, being a kind and generous person, I thought to myself, “Wellllllll . . . maybe he just has super duper stage fright.  Maybe he actually does have something to say, but he is just extra, extra, unbelievably bad at conveying ideas.

So what if he forgot to brush his hair?  So what if he sounds like a combination of Sylvester the Cat and Homestar Runner?   Who cares that he introduces himself in a somewhat less-than-gubernatorial fashion by saying, “Hi, I’m Basil Marceaux Dot Com”? It is still possible that he has a good idea in there somewhere.

That is what motherhood does to your power of  discernment.  If mothers weren’t able to say “shush” to what reason is screaming in our ears, then our six-year-old sons would be in big, big trouble.

So, half in charity and half in morbid curiosity, I checked out his website.

Okay, so it turns out that . . . well, whatever conclusion you jumped to when you saw his video, you were right.

My favorite part is that there is the homepage, and then there is a link to page four.  Pages two and three?  What are you, some kind of elitist?

This, my friends, is disorderly thinking on a heroic scale.  Other information that Ithink I gathered from reading the least informative prose ever (and I once saw a book report that went:  “The Littel Airplane.  It is about a littel airplane”):

  • He definitely got arrested at some point.
  • He doesn’t like the flag?  Or it’s the wrong flag, or something.  I believe he is saying there is a goldfish on one flag, but he wants the one with three stripes to come back.  In the service of this goal, he was hit many times with a stun gun.
  • He seems to be proposing that, in order to save money in gassing up public vehicles, we should plant corn in the medians of highways, and convert the harvest into biofuel.

Sorry, folks.  Basil Marceaux is, of course, a child of God like the rest of us, and it’s not nice to make fun.  But I died laughing just the same.

Well, anyway, here’s the much more seemly joke I promised–no victim, no crime!  I got this one from my sister, again, who should have her own blog, or at least get royalties from mine.

Oh, and despite my flagrant nepotism, I’m still collecting jokes! Send your best joke to simchafisher at gmail dot com.  (Hi, I’m Simcha Fisher Dot Com.)

The philosophy department is having a meeting, and an angel appears and offers the department head one blessing: he may choose wisdom, beauty, or ten million dollars. He hesitates for just a moment and then chooses wisdom.

There’s a sound of trumpets and the guy becomes too bright to look at for a few seconds. Then silence. He is staring down at the table, and all the other professors say to him, “Say something!!”

He looks up at them and says, “I should have picked the money.”

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