Boxing

My uncle was a boxer. His record was 0 – 12. He should have sold boxes instead.

Jellybeans

I heard that you don’t cook jellybeans. I’m confused. I cook all the other beans I eat.

Goldfish

I had a goldfish. I taught him one trick – to play dead. He loved doing it so much he never stopped.

Astronaut

I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut. So I moved to Hollywood, went to acting school and auditioned for dozens of movies, never getting the job. I almost gave up on my dream when I discovered a place called NASA. Maybe I’ll try there.

Education

I told my high school counselor that I wanted to learn trigonometry. He said the school only offered Spanish or French.

Eccentricities & Life

I, too, being human, haven’t escaped my own collection of quirky habits and annoying eccentricities.  Visitors to my home wonder why I own 20 washing machines and dryers. I tell them, “After years of never finding an empty machine in a laundromat, now I always do.”
During my childhood, my Mom always enjoyed livening up dinnertime by hiding a lit firecracker in my soup. Now, years later, I find it difficult to eat soup if it doesn’t explode in my face.
I don’t know why, but my Uncle Fred always reads the newspaper by shouting the news at the top of his lungs. “AND TODAY IN NORTH KOREA…” The neighbors tune in Uncle Fred instead of their televisions.
Eccentric habits and their development are a mystery. One expert suggests that the seed is planted early in life. But how does that explain my Aunt Ellen’s habit of watching the world with one eye open at a time? Half the day she looks with just her right eye. The other half with her left.
There are habits that can be considered beneficial – liking dodging bullets. I inherited my older brother’s habit of driving backwards on a highway. (It prevents accidents since other drivers get out of your way.) And, through personal experience, I’ve acquired the habit of never starting a campfire indoors unless it’s in a neighbor’s house.
Summing up, habits are like anything else. Some are good. Some are bad. Those are the ones to be treasured.

Returning Home…

I returned from vacation a disappointed man. I left my 90-year-old mother with instructions to fix my car and found her still working on the transmission. My spirits needed uplifting. Someone handed me a brochure of adult education lectures. This was my answer.
My first choice was “Yoga” but I arrived to class to find everyone making “Yogurt”. Obviously a typo. Next on the list was “Vegetarianism – How to Recognize a Vegetable When You See One”. I was tossed out of the class after getting into a brawl with the teacher when I said that broccoli wasn’t a vegetable but a small tree.
As I procrastinated making another choice, friends spoke highly of the lectures they attended. One friend happily discovered at the “Right Brain/Left Brain” lecture that he had both halves.
I scanned the brochure one last time. One lecture jumped out at me, “Alcohol and Drug Abuse – How to Get Started”. I wanted to do this with my Dad, but he wasn’t interested.
The series of lectures were coming to an end and I still hadn’t found something. Then I spotted the perfect one, “How to Fix Your Transmission”. Perfect! My Mom could finally get the job done.

Pickup Line

Before I met my wife, I had a hard time meeting women. I didn’t have a good pickup line so I bought a pickup truck, hoping that would help. It didn’t.

On the Subway

I was riding the subway and noticed a man reading a book. Attempting to make conversation, I asked the title. He said it was a dictionary. I inquired as to the story. He gave me an odd look and repeated  it was a dictionary. I said, “Okay, but I was just wondering what it was about.” He got irritated and repeated, “I said it was a dictionary.” Then I got annoyed and said, “I heard you. I was simply asking what it was about.” Then he shouted, “I told you. I’m reading a dictionary.” And I repeated, “Okay, but what’s it about?” He stood up angrily and stormed off.
So I’m left wondering, was it a crime story?

Crossroads

My nephew is at a crossroads. He’s entering college and can’t decide on a major. I suggested philosophy. I said as a philosopher you never have to be right. You make suggestions, have opinions, speak extemporaneously and don’t have to concern yourself with facts. There is only one exception. You have to know how to spell “Nietzsche”. And if you can grow a mustache like him, that’ll guarantee you a job.