todays deep thought

lets see then.....but i am pretty sure i have heard all the jack handey deep thoughts. and truely they are the deepest of all thoughts. no other deep thoughts even need be heard.
 
Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let's say you're an astronaut on the moon and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon pieces, wham! you just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Think again, bat man."
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:laugh:
 
that is a beautiful one....but yes i have heard it.


My new millionaire idea is one regular shoe and one "swollen" shoe, for when you get bit by a rattlesnake.
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the soldering iron of justice one is great too.
 
If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a soldering iron. That way, if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like "Hey, look. He's carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everybody would get real quiet and ashamed, because they had made fun of the soldering iron of justice, and I could probably hit them up for a free drink.
 
I remember I was hammering on a fence in the backyard when Dad approached. He was carrying a letter or something in his hand, and he looked worried.
I continued to hammer as he came toward me. "Son," he said, "why are you hammering on that fence? It already has plenty of nails in it."
"Oh, I'm not using nails," I replied. "I'm just hammering." With that, I returned to my hammering.
Dad asked me to stop hammering, as he had some news. I did stop hammering, but first I got a couple more hammers in, and this seemed to make Dad mad. "I said, stop hammering!" he yelled.
I think he felt bad for yelling at me, especially since it looked like he had bad news. "Look," he said, "you can hammer later, but first--"
Well, I didn't even wait to hear the rest. As soon as I heard "You can hammer," that's what I started doing. Hammering away, happy as an old hammer dog.
Dad tried to physically stop me from hammering by inserting a small log of some sort between my hammer and the fence. But I just kept on hammering, 'cause that's the way I am when I get that hammer going. Then, he just grabbed my arm and and made me stop.
"I'm afraid I have some news for you," he said.
I swear, what I did next was not hammering. I was just letting the hammer swing lazily at arm's length, and maybe it tapped the fence once or twice, but that's all. That apparently didn't make any difference whatsoever to Dad, because he just grabbed my hammer out of my hand and flung it across the field.
And when I saw my hammer flying helplessly through the air like that I just couldn't take it. I burst out crying, I admit it. And I ran to the house, as fast as my legs could take me.
"Son, come back!" yelled Dad. "What about your hammer?!"
But I could not have cared less about hammering at that point. I ran into the house and flung myself onto my bed, pounding the bed with my fists. I pounded and pounded, until finally, behind me, I heard a voice. "As long as you're pounding, why not use this?" I turned, and it was Dad, holding a brand-new solid-gold hammer.
I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and ran to Dad's outstretched arms. But suddenly, he jumped out of the way, and I went sailing through the second-story window behind him.
Whenever I hear about a kid getting in trouble with the drugs, I like to tell him this story.
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Once, ...I had a horse that wouldn't die...So I shot him.
Now I feel really stupid.....Riding around on a horse with a big hole in its head....

Nope. Not Jack Handy. Thats my own.
 
yea i knew that wasn't handy's work.

here is one my friend made.

everytime i drive by an elemetry school i just can't help but think that one day one very special child will grow up to be a whore.
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Too bad you can't just grab a tree by the very tip-top and bend it clear over the ground and then let her fly, because I bet you'd be amazed at all the stuff that comes flying out.
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Once, when I was a kid, my father was walking me home from school. I looked up at Dad and asked him, "Dad, why don't any of the girls seem to notice that I exist?" Dad just smiled and said "Son, probably because you're ugly." I'll never forget the wisdom that man passed on to me.
 
If you're ever selling your house, and some people come by, and a big rat comes out and he's dragging the rattrap because it didn't quite kill him, just tell the people he's your pet and that's a tr ick you taught him.
 
Worship the potato? The idea seemed silly to me. But then I thought, what else is more deserving of worship? It's simple, it comes from the earth, and it can kill you if you disobey it.
 
I used to wonder about everything when I was young. I remember wondering what the white stuff in birdshit was. It bothered me for a long time till, oneday, I finally asked my dad. I was amazed and proud when he answered. I didn't think anyone would know. But he did. I remember thinking that I must have the smartest dad in the world. I can't wait to impress my son when he asks me that question and I get to proudly say, "Son, thats birdshit too..."
 
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