As the new truck driver, Sam had to make a delivery to Death Valley in California. When he returned from the trip he informed his boss that if he ever got assigned to go out there again, he would quit.
The boss was not very sympathetic, and mentioned that his Death Valley account was one of his most profitable.
“Now see here,” said Sam in protest. “When I arrived it was 128 degrees Fahrenheit. After just a few minutes I was so miserable I was afraid I was going to die.”
“Well, it doesn’t look as though you succumbed to the heat,” chided the boss.
“That was the other problem,” complained Sam. “After the two hours it took them to unload the truck, the heat made me so miserable I was afraid I wasn’t going to die.”
During a terrible storm, most of the highway signs became covered with snow. After conducting an extensive study, the state decided to raise all the affected signs an additional 36 inches at a cost of six million dollars.
A TV news channel decided to interview some of their local residents to gage the public sentiment.
“That’s an outrageous price!” said a local farmer, “but I guess we’re lucky the state handled it instead of the federal government.”
“Why is that?” asked the reporter.
“Because knowing the federal government, they woulda decided to lower the highways!”
In Mrs. Winslow’s third grade class, the teacher was going around the room asking the children about what they might want to become when they get older.
There were the usual choices, doctor, fireman, nurse, and so on. But then she got to Jason.
“When I grow up, I want to draw comics!” said little Jason.
The teacher furrowed her brow and said, “That sounds like fun, but you can’t have it both ways.”
It was a beautiful sunny day, and Marty was on riding mower cutting the grass when he abruptly came to a stop and began to weep.
A neighbor trimming his hedge noticed this and ran over to see if he could help.
“I’ll be fine,” said Marty. “I’m just going through a rough patch.”
Little Johnny approached his Sunday school teacher and asked, “Mr. Withers? Is it true that we came from dust?”
Mr. Withers smiled and said, “Why yes, Johnny. We all come from dust.”
“And is it true,” continued Johnny, “that when we die, we go back to dust?”
With a more solemn look, Mr. Withers nodded, “Yes, Johnny. When we pass we go back to dust. Why do you ask?”
“Well I think there’s a man under my bed,” said Johnny, “but I’m not sure if he’s coming or going!”