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Two little old ladies, Connie & Evelyn, were sitting on a park bench outside the

local town hall where a flower show was in progress.

The short one, Connie, leaned over and said, 'Life is so boring. We never have any

fun anymore. For $10.00 I'd take my clothes off and streak through that stupid, boring flower show!'

'You're on!' said Evelyn, holding up a $10.00 bill.

So Connie slowly fumbled her way out of her clothes. She grabbed a dried flower from a nearby display and held it between her teeth. Then, completely naked, streaked (as fast as an old lady can) through the front door of the flower show.

Waiting outside, her friend soon heard a huge commotion inside the hall, followed by loud applause and shrill whistling. Finally, the smiling Connie came through the exit door surrounded by a cheering, clapping crowd.

'What happened?' asked Evelyn.

'I won $1,000 as 1st prize for 'Best Dried Arrangement...!''





Two friars are having trouble paying off the belfry, so they open a florist shop.


Everyone wants to buy flowers from the men of God so business is quickly booming.


The florist across town sees a huge drop in sales and asks the two friars to close their shop, but they refuse.


A month later the florist begs the friars to close because he’s having trouble feeding his family.


Again, they refuse, so the florist hires Hugh McTaggert.


Hugh is the roughest, toughest thug in town and is hired to “persuade” the friars to close.


Hugh asks the friars to close their florist shop.


When they refuse, he threatens to beat the crap out of them and wreck their shop every day they remain open, so they close.


This proves once again that Hugh and only Hugh can prevent florist friars.


My Wife the Gardener

(poem in old magazine)


She dug the plot on Monday –
the soil was rich and fine,
She forgot to thaw out dinner –
so we went out to dine...

She planted roses Tuesday –
she says they are a must,
They really are quite lovely
but she quite forgot to dust.

On Wednesday it was daisies –
they opened up with sun,
All whites and pinks and yellows –
but the laundry wasn’t done...

The poppies came on Thursday -
a bright and cherry red,
I guess she really was engrossed –
she never made the bed...

It was violets on Friday –
in colours she adores,
It never bothered her at all –
all crumbs upon the floors.

I hired a maid on Saturday –
my week is now complete,
My wife can garden all she wants –
the house will still be neat!

It’s nearly lunchtime Sunday –
and I cannot find the maid,
Oh no! I don’t believe it!
She’s out there WITH THE SPADE!


God Finds Out About Lawn Care


"Winterize your lawn," the big sign outside the garden store commanded. I've fed it, watered it, mowed it, raked it and watched a lot of it die anyway. Now I'm supposed to winterize it? I hope it's too late. Grass lawns have to be the stupidest thing we've come up with outside of thong swimsuits! We constantly battle dandelions, Queen Anne's lace, thistle, violets, chicory and clover that thrive naturally, so we can grow grass that must be nursed through an annual four step chemical dependency.

Imagine the conversation The Creator might have with St. Francis about this:

"Frank you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles."


"It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great extent to kill them and replace them with grass."


"Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?"


"Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn."


"The spring rains and cool weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy."


"Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it _ sometimes twice a week."


"They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?"


"Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags."

"They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?"


"No, sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away."


"Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?"


"Yes, sir."


"These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work."


"You aren't going believe this Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it."


"What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life."


"You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and have them hauled away."


"No! What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and keep the soil moist and loose?"


"After throwing away your leaves, they go out and buy something they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves."


"And where do they get this mulch?"


"They cut down trees and grind them up."


"Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?"


"Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about..."


"Never mind I think I just heard the whole story."



A little boy goes up to an old gardener and says "what do you put on your rhubarb?". "Well, usually rotted horse manure" replies the gardener. " we have custard on ours" says the boy.

Did you hear about the successful bonsai tree grower? He got so good he ended up looking for a house with a smaller garden.

How do you stop moles digging in your garden? Hide their shovels!

A small boy is helping his dad dig up potatoes. " what I want to know" he says, "is why you buried the darn things in the first place"

What sort of animal is a slug? A snail with a housing problem.

Gardener to a friend: " do you know where I could get some slug pellets?" Friend: "have you tried Boots?" Gardener: "I want to poison them, not kick them to death".

Two slugs are slithering along the pavement. They go round a corner and get stuck behind two snails. " oh no" says one "caravans!"

Man to neighbour: "can I borrow your lawnmower?" Neighbour: "No, she's not home yet"

What do you call it when worms take over the world? Global Worming. 


What do you get if you divide the circumference of a pumpkin by its diameter?
Pumpkin pi.

My wife’s a water sign. I’m an earth sign. Together we make mud. 

The new weed whacker is cutting-hedge technology. 

My wife works over-thyme in her herb garden before she decides it is time to cummin.

Don’t expect a bonsai tree to grow the miniature planting it.

I will cut the grass only when I get mowtivated.

The research assistant couldn’t experiment with plants because he hadn’t botany.

Old gardeners never die they just vegetate.

Gardeners like to plant their feet firmly.

If you’re a gardener you might call yourself a ‘plant manager’.

“A favorite of birds” means to avoid planting near cars, sidewalks, or clothes lines.

“Grows more beautiful each year” means “Looks like roadkill for the foreseeable future.”

“Zone 5 with protection” is a variation on the phrase “Russian roulette.”

“May require support” means your daughter’s engineering degree will finally pay off.

“Moisture-loving” plants are ideal for landscaping all your bogs and swamps.

“Carefree” refers more to the plant’s attitude than to your workload.

“Vigorous” is code for “has a Napoleonic compulsion to take over the world.”

“Grandma’s Favorite” — until she discovered free-flowering, disease-resistant hybrids.

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