Bytes: LAUGH

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Welcome to this week’s LAUGH, Byters and readers.

Driving to work I was listening to Billy Joel’s Piano Man, which has the lyric “And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar”, which started me thinking. ‘Bread may have come from ‘dough’, but how did dough come to mean money? I thought I would do a Bytes post on it until I realised it was time for LAUGH, so the origin will come later. Today’s theme, though, is money.

By the way:

“The upper crust is a bunch of crumbs held together by a lot of dough.”

- c 1945, various possible source origins, see:

https://www.barrypopik.com/index.php/new_york_city/entry/the_upper_crust_is_a_bunch_of_crumbs_held_together_by_a_lot_of_dough

Enjoy.

As usual, a caution that there is risqué content ahead.

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SOME HUMOUR:

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A Sunday school teacher posed a question to her class, "If I were to sell my house, car, donate my possessions to charity, and give all my money to the church, would I get into heaven?"

The children unanimously replied, "No."

The teacher then asked, "If I were to keep the church clean, mow the lawn, and keep everything neat and tidy, would I get into heaven?"

Once again, the answer was a resounding "No."

Apparently perplexed, the teacher asked, "Well, then how can I get into heaven?"

A quick-witted five-year-old boy piped up and replied, "You have to be dead!"

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I asked God for money

I later found out that God doesn't work that way.

So I robbed a bank, then asked for forgiveness.

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A televangelist at a mega-church down south was on stage, collecting money from the faithful and promising them he could help anyone.

A young man left the audience and came up on the stage and asked the televangelist to pray for his hearing. The televangelist starting chanting and took the young man by his shoulders and shook him. Then he cupped his hands over the young man's ears and said some more incantations and finally shouted to the heavens, "He is cured! Thank you Jesus!" The televangelist turned to the young man and said, "How's your hearing now?" and the young man said, "I don't know. It's not until 2pm Thursday."

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I asked the gym trainer what type of machine i should use to get the best looking women.

He said the ATM outside

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Once upon a time, a guy was sitting at a bar. He was throwing money around, giving the barman hundred dollar tips and buying drinks for everyone. He was surrounded by a crowd of adoring women.

The barman liked the tips, but he was kind of curious about a little man that would jump from the rich guy's pocket. The little man would run up and down the bar, kicking over the bowls of peanuts and giving people the finger. Then the little guy would jump back into the man's jacket for a while. The barman went over and asked the guy what was up.

The rich guy says, "Well, let me tell you a little story. I was walking along a beach one day, and I come across this lamp. I rub it, and a genie popped out. I got three wishes, so my first wish was to be fabulously wealthy. Then I wished for a harem. You can see I got both."

The barman asks, "So what about that little guy in your jacket?"

"Oh, that," mumbles the rich guy. "That's the twelve-inch prick I wished for."

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God created childbirth to give women the chance to experience what it's like...

For a guy to catch a cold....

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After Quasimodo’s death, the bishop of the cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bellringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process.

After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he decided to call it a day when a lone, armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bellringer’s job. The bishop was incredulous. “You have no arms!” “No matter,” said the man, “Observe!”

He then began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment, convinced that he had finally found a suitable replacement for Quasimodo. Suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped, and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before. As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, “Bishop, who was this man?” “I don’t know his name,” the bishop replied, sadly, “but his face rings a bell.”

The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bellringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said, “Your excellency, I am the brother of the poor, armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty.”

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and as the armless man’s brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest and died on the spot. Two monks, hearing the bishop’s cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side. “What has happened?” the first breathlessly asked, “Who is this man?”

“I don’t know his name,” sighed the distraught bishop, “But he’s a dead ringer for his brother.”

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