Since those of you in the States have just celebrated Thanksgiving, I thought I would share a few feeble Thanksgiving-themed amusements. And, please remember – I don’t make them up, I only pass them along.
A turkey farmer wanted to genetically engineer the perfect turkey for his family’s holiday meal. His turkeys were already delicious but there was one big problem: not enough drumsticks.
He was tired of all the fighting over the holiday table, so he decided to do something about it.
He spent years trying to selectively breed a turkey that would have enough drumsticks to go around. It became an obsession – he gave up socializing and became something of a hermit and a running joke in the town.
After several years of increasingly reclusive behavior, the other farmers were shocked when he turned up at their local watering hole.
“Well?!?” they asked him, en masse.
“I did it!” said the turkey farmer, “I bred one that has 6 legs!”
“Wow!” “Congratulations!” “We knew you’d pull it off!”
The bartender said, “That’s great, but we have to ask: How did it taste?”
“I don’t know…” said the farmer. “I never could catch the darn thing!”
When a music student brought his French horn to my shop for repair, he complained that the instrument “felt stuffy” and he couldn’t blow air through it. It’s not unusual to find partial blockages in brass instruments if small items get lodged in the tubing, but when I tested the instrument, the horn was completely blocked. After much probing and prodding, a small tangerine dropped out of the bell.
“Oh,” said the musician when I handed him the fruit. Seeing the bewildered look on my face, he explained, “My mom used the horn for a cornucopia in a Thanksgiving centerpiece.”
Jolene was only 8 years old and lived with family in the country with her parents and brother. Consequently they did not often have visitors from the city. One day Jolene’s mother said that father was bringing two guests home for Thanksgiving supper.
After they had enjoyed the turkey, Jolene went to the kitchen to help her mother, and proudly brought in the first piece of pumpkin pie and gave it to her father. He then passed the plate to a guest. When Jolene came in with the second piece and gave it to his father, he again gave it to a guest. This was too much for little Jolene, who blurted out, “It’s no use, Daddy. The pieces are all the same size.”