Edition 16 Week of April 23, 2012

Moxie    by Shawn Raymond

Moxie Politick  by Shawn Raymond

Humor

Not Exactly What I Meant!

I told my daughter to follow her dreams no matter what.

Her reply?

“Even the one where I’m naked in the church baptismal?”

 Actual Billboard Messages

Let's meet at my house Sunday before the game.-God
C'mon over and bring the kids. -God
What part of "Thou Shalt Not..." didn't you understand?-God
We need to talk. -God
Keep using my name in vain, I'll make rush hour longer. -God
Loved the wedding, invite me to the marriage. -God
That "Love Thy Neighbor" thing... I meant it. -God
I love you and you and you and you and... -God
Will the road you're on get you to my place? -God
Follow me. -God
Big bang theory, you've got to be kidding. -God
My way is the highway. -God
Need directions? -God
You think it's hot here? -God
Have you read my #1 best seller? There will be a test. -God
Do you have any idea where you're going? -God
(And my personal favorite)
Don't make me come down there! -God 

FARCE Magazine is looking for anyone with humor material that would like to share their work here. Contact the editor at farcemagazine@gmail.com .

 

Edition 15 Week of April 16, 2012

Humor

Sunday Golf

One Sunday morning, a priest wakes up and decides to go golfing. He calls his boss and says that he feels very sick, and won't be able to go to work.

Way up in heaven, Saint Peter sees all this and asks God, "Are you really going to let him get away with this?"

"No, I guess not," says God.

The priest drives about five to six hours away, so he doesn't bump into anyone he knows. The golf course is empty when he gets there. So he takes his first swing, drives the ball 495 yards away and gets a hole in one.

Saint Peter watches in disbelief and asks, "Why did you let him do that?"

To this God says, "Who's he going to tell?"

Great Grandma Gas!

My Great Grandmother went to the doctor and said, "Doctor I have this problem with gas, but it really doesn't bother me too much. It never smells and is always silent. As a matter of fact I've farted at least 10 times since I've been here in your office. You didn't know I was farting because it doesn't smell and is silent."

The doctor said, "I see. Take these pills and come back to see me next week".

The next week Great Grandma returned.

"Doctor," she said, "I don't know what the heck you gave me, but now my farts, although still silent, stink terribly".

"Good," the doctor said. "Now that we've cleared up your sinuses, let's work on your hearing."

 

MOXIE Politick

 

 

FARCE Magazine is an on-line humor magazine looking for non-syndicated cartoons and written humor material. Want to contribute to FARCE Magazine? Contact the editor at farcemagazine@gmail .com. 

 

 

Edition 14 Week of April 9, 2012

HUMOR

My Sister Toots       By Eric Reynolds

In 1967 I was eight years old.  It was the best summer ever.  I was too little to be of any real help around the farm, but too big to need a sitter.  When Dad sent me back to the house, Mom would shoo me outside and then I could spend all day fishing, building hay forts or just riding my old, hand-me-down bike.  Life was perfect.  Then school started.

I was vaguely aware that I had a little sister.  I mean, I knew she existed.  I just didn’t know she would be my problem.  She was starting Kindergarten and it was my job to get her on the bus, protect her all day, and get her safely home again.  I was not happy with the arrangement, but apparently there’s a tradition or something. 

On the first day of school, I spent recess trying to get the pull cord back into her Mrs. Beasley doll.  One day, coming home on the bus, some sixth grade girls started teasing her about her long, straight hair and tom-boy clothes.  She came and sat with me.  I told her she should just buck-up.  I explained to her that when Bart Dankhouse ruined my notebook, I punched him in the arm and he left me alone after that.  It seemed to help, but as soon as we got off the bus, she started crying.  She cried all the way through dinner.   I felt really bad for her.  

That evening she slipped into my room and asked for help to curl her hair.  All I had to do was sneak into our parents’ room and get Mom’s hair drier.  How could I refuse?  That hair drier was way cool!  It looked like a vacuum cleaner, with a long hose connected to a bag; when you pulled the bag over your hair, you looked just like an astronaut and it sounded like a jet engine when it started.  It got hot like one, too.  

I retrieved the hair drier without incident. However, when I got it back to my room there were no curlers – those spongy, tube things Mom rolled her hair around before putting on the astronaut hair drier bag.  My sister got a poop lip and I heard the whine, that telltale noise she made just before the earsplitting wail that would bring every adult running.  I put my hand over her mouth and assured her we would find something to use for curlers.  We tried Lincoln logs, but they kept falling out.  Then I remembered the bag of Tootsie Rolls in my sock drawer.  After a few tries, we figured out if you licked them first they rolled pretty well.  It took us a while, but we got it done.  We were feeling mighty proud of ourselves.  I placed the astronaut bag over her head and turned it on.  

At first it smelled good, like when you drop a smore in the campfire.  Then she started fussing and commenced pawing at the bag.  I was pulling off the head piece when our parents burst into the room.  I was defenseless, holding the smore smelling hood; her crying and looking like a burnt cupcake.

For my part in this I was sentenced, permanently, to grown up chores in the barn.  She got an emergency hair cut.  This mortified my mother, but when she got on the bus, the snooty girls were all excited and said she looked just like Twiggy on the cover of that week’s fashion magazine.  She snubbed them and sat with me.  Bart Dankhouse made a face at her.  She punched him in the arm.  I kind of liked her after that, even though she was my sister.

Lessons for Parents

 

The best way to keep kids at home is to make the home a pleasant atmosphere... and let the air out of their tires.

FARCE Magazine is looking for non-syndicated comics and written humor material. If you'd like to display your work here contact the editor at farcemagazine@gmail.com.

Edition 13 Week of April 2, 2012

HUMOR

The Speeder

A traffic cop on patrol one night, watching a 35mph zone on the edge of town, suddenly saw a car come blazing by his hideout. Quickly grabbing at his radar gun, he clocked the fast moving vehicle at 87mph!
The officer took off after the speeder and soon had the car pulled over on the side of the road. Expecting trouble with such a reckless driver, the patrolman approached cautiously.
To his surprise the driver of the offending vehicle was a little old lady, barely tall enough to see over the steering wheel.

"Ma'am," the officer began. "Do you know how fast you were going?"

"I was just getting her up around 90, I believe, officer," the old lady answered calmly, peering up at him through her bifocals. "Why, what seems to be the problem?"

Shocked, the officer returned her comment, "What seems to be the problem? Why, this is a 35mph zone! That's the problem. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Oh sure," the old lady returned, "That's why I'm driving so fast. I'm just trying to follow it's instruction."

Dumbfounded, the officer was momentarily speechless.

"Just what sign are you talking about, Ma'am?" he asked, when he finally recovered.

Smiling up at the officer, the old lady placed a gentle hand on his wrist and said, "Why, the one that said 'Speed Zone Ahead', of course!"


 

Advice from Dad

I took my daughters out for a walk one fine morning. After a few quiet minutes of walking, my oldest asked, "Dad, how to birds stay flying in the sky?"

I thought about it for a moment, then replied, "I really don't know." I had to admit to myself that I really didn't understand it much at all and half an answer isn't a good answer.

Shortly after my youngest daughter asked, "How does a boat float on the water?"

Once again, I had to reply, "Don’t know about that either."

My oldest looked at me like she was thinking of the easiest possible question in the world to answer and asked,  "Why is the sky blue?"

Again, even though I thought about just giving them something, anything, to keep them from making me feel like an idiot, I replied, "Sorry. I'm  not sure."

The youngest looked at me, obviously puzzled and asked, "Dad, do you mind that we're asking you all of these questions?"

"Of course not." I replied, determined to derail this line of questioning.  "How else are you ever going to learn anything?"

Laughter always makes up for ignorance.





FARCE Magazine is looking for non-syndicated comics and written humor material. Interested? Contact the Editor at farcemagazine@gmail.com .