This humorous story was sent to me by a friend of 53 years, Greg Stanford.
I mowed the lawn today, and after doing so I sat down and had a cold beer. The day was really quite beautiful, and the drink facilitated some deep thinking.
My wife walked by and asked me what I was doing, and I said ‘nothing’. The reason I said ‘nothing’ instead of saying ‘just thinking’ is because she then would have asked ‘about what?’ At that point I would have had to explain that men are deep thinkers about various topics, which would lead to other questions.
Finally I pondered an age old question: Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts? Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy getting kicked in the nuts, but how could they “know”? Well, after another beer, and some more heavy deductive thinking, I have come up with an answer to that question. Getting kicked in the nuts is more painful than having a baby, and even though I obviously couldn’t really “know”, here is the reason for my conclusion.
A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say, “It might be nice to have another child.” On the other hand, you never hear a guy say, “You know, I think I would like another kick in the nuts.” I rest my case. Time for another beer, and then maybe a nap in that hammock.
A duck walks into a pub and orders a pint of beer and a ham sandwich.
The barman looks at him and says, “Hang on! You’re a duck.”
“I see your eyes are working,” replies the duck.
“And you can talk!” Exclaims the barman.
“I see your ears are working, too,” Says the duck. “Now if you don’t mind, can I have my beer and my sandwich please?”
“Certainly, sorry about that,” says the barman as he pulls the duck’s pint.
“It’s just we don’t get many ducks in this pub.. What are you doing round this way?”
“I’m working on the building site across the road,” Explains the duck. “I’m a plasterer.”
The flabbergasted barman cannot believe the duck and wants to learn more, but takes the hint when the duck pulls out a newspaper from his bag and proceeds to read it.
So, the duck reads his paper, drinks his beer, eats his sandwich, bids the barman good day and leaves.
The same thing happens for two weeks.
Then one day the circus comes to town.
The ringmaster comes into the pub for a pint and the barman says to him, “You’re with the circus, aren’t you? Well, I know this duck that could be just brilliant in your circus. He talks, drinks beer, eats sandwiches, reads the newspaper and everything!”
“Sounds marvelous,”says the ringmaster, handing over his business card.
“Get him to give me a call.”
So the next day when the duck comes into the pub the barman says, “Hey Mr. Duck, I reckon I can line you up with a top job, paying really good money.”
“I’m always looking for the next job,” Says the duck.
“Where is it?”
“At the circus,” says the barman.
“The circus?” Repeats the duck.
“That’s right,” replies the barman.
“The circus?” The duck asks again, “with the big tent?”
“Yeah,” the barman replies.
“With all the animals who live in cages, and performers who live in caravans?” says the duck.
“Of course,” the barman replies.
“And the tent has canvas sides and a big canvas roof with a hole in the middle?” persists the duck.
“That’s right!” says the barman.
The duck shakes his head in amazement, and says .. ………
“Why the hell would they need a plasterer??!”