Tom T Hall
Tom T Hall will be 75 on May 25th
Follow this link to see Tom sing with the late Tammy Wynette
There is a huge house in our street.
The extended family is run by a grumpy old woman
with a pack of irritable dogs allowed to run without leashes.
Her car isn’t taxed or insured and doesn’t even have a number plate,
but the police still do nothing.
To the best of my knowledge, she has never worked in her life.
Her bad-tempered old man is notorious for his racist comments.
A shopkeeper blamed them for arranging the murder of his son
and his son’s girl-friend, but nothing has ever been proved.
All their kids have broken marriages except the youngest,
who everyone thought was gay.
Two grandsons are meant to be in the Army
but are always out partying in nightclubs.
It is not known if they have the same father.
They are both out of control.
God, I hate living near Buckingham Palace!
I had to refuse the wedding invite !
Some belated Mothers Day Cartoons
Those Funny Animals
Every time an Indian walks into the chief's teepee he sees that the chief is masturbating.
They finally realize this is a serious problem,
so they fix him up with a nice woman,
and she starts living with him in his teepee.
One day, one of the Indians walks into to chief's teepee
and there's the chief masturbating again.
He says, "Chief, what are you doing?
We fix you up with beautiful woman."
The chief says, "Her arm get tired."
Johann Sebastian Bach (1685 – 1750) was a German composer
and musician whose sacred and secular works drew together the strands of the
– - – let’s just say he was one of those boring music people from before music
had a back-beat and before the electric guitar was created.
Two centuries after he died,
the woman we should all be afraid of was busy writing tales
which would not have amused Queen Victoria while leading an art deco life.
Virginia Woolf eventually died in 1941.
Both of them met up in Heaven and formed an unlikely friendship.
One of their pastimes was indulging in the modern dances which Mrs Woolf had enjoyed.
One afternoon they left the Hallowed Halls of Heaven and moved into the Sacred Gardens.
They were dancing the Charleston with a bit of Jitterbugging
when Virginia slipped and fell and twisted her ankle,
She said, . . . “Carry me, Bach.”
“Too old, Virginny?” he replied.
Cowboys and Indians
thanks to all those who have sent these posters to me
One cold December day, a French tourist in Scotland
decided to find out if the natives were as tight as he had heard.
He stopped at a farm cottage,
told the farmer's wife he was freezing to death,
and was invited to come in and warm himself at the hearth
. Once inside the house, he complained of being thirsty.
The woman handed him an enormous white crockery mug filled with milk.
After taking a big swig, the guest exclaimed,
"This is sweet and fresh ... you are most generous!"
She replied modestly,
"It's nothing. My family wouldn't drink that milk because we found a dead rat in it."
Sick to his stomach, the Frenchman clapped both hands over his mouth,
allowing the huge mug to fall to the floor and shatter on the stone floor.
The Scotswoman grabbed her broom, raised it high in the air,
brought it down on the visitor's head, and hollered,
"Get out, you ungrateful pig! I take you in my home,
I let you share my fire, I give you milk to drink ...
and now you repay my kindness by breaking the children's potty chair!"
is this picture for real??
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger lounge in Calgary , Alberta ,
while awaiting their respective flights.
One is a native Indian from the Sarcee Reservation.
Another is a cowboy on his way to Vancouver for a livestock auction.
The third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student
newly arrived at the University of Calgary from the Middle East.
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures.
Soon, the two Albertans learn that the Arab is a devout,
radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair,
crosses his boots on a magazine table
and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face.
The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around,
and the old windsock is flapping, but still no plane comes.
To break the silence, the Indian clears his throat and softly speaks:
"At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few."
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward:
"Once my people were few" he sneers, "and now we are many.
Why do you suppose that is?"
The Alberta cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth,
and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a smooth drawl,
"That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet . . .
but I do believe it's a-comin'..."
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