King’s Weather Man

The king wanted to go fishing, and he asked the royal weather
forecaster the forecast for the next few hours.
The palace meteorologist assured him that there
was no chance of rain. So the king and the queen went fishing.

On the way he met a man with a fishing pole riding on a donkey,
and he asked the man if the fish were biting.

The fisherman said, “Your Majesty, you should return to the palace!
In just a short time I expect a huge rain storm.”

The king replied, “I hold the palace meteorologist in high regard.
He is an educated and experienced professional. Besides,
I pay him very high wages. He gave me a very different forecast.
I trust him.”

So the king continued on his way. However, in a short time a torrential
rain fell from the sky. The king and queen were totally soaked.

Furious, the king returned to the palace and gave the order
to fire the meteorologist. Then he summoned the fisherman
and offered him the prestigious position of royal forecaster.

The fisherman said, “Your Majesty, I do not know anything
about forecasting. I obtain my information from my donkey.
If I see my donkey’s ears drooping, it means with certainty
that it will rain.”

So the king hired the donkey. And thus began the practice
of hiring dumb asses to work in influential positions of government.

The practice is unbroken to this date.



A city boy, Kenny, moved to the country and bought a donkey
from an old farmer for $100.
The farmer agreed to deliver the donkey the next day.

The next day the farmer drove up and said,
“Sorry son, but I have some bad news, the donkey died.”

Kenny replied, “Well then, just give me my money back.”

The farmer said, “Can’t do that. I went and spent it already.”

Kenny said, “OK then, at least give me the donkey.”

The farmer asked, “What ya gonna do with him?”

Kenny, “I’m going to raffle him off.”

Farmer, “You can’t raffle off a dead donkey!”

Kenny, “Sure I can. Watch me.
I just won’t tell anybody he is dead.”

A month later the farmer met up with Kenny and asked,
“What happened with that dead donkey?”

Kenny, “I raffled him off. I sold 500 tickets at
two dollars apiece and made a profit of $998.”

Farmer, “Didn’t anyone complain?”

Kenny, “Just the guy who won.
So I gave him his two dollars back.”

Kenny grew up and eventually became
the Chief Financial Officer of ( you name it).



The wise old Mother Superior was dying.
The nuns gathered around her bed, trying to make her comfortable.
They gave her some warm milk to drink, but she refused it.

Then one nun took the glass back to the kitchen.
Remembering a bottle of whiskey received as a gift the previous Christmas,
she opened it and poured a generous amount into the warm milk.

Back at Mother Superior’s bed, she held the glass to her lips.
Mother drank a little, then a little more, then before they knew it,
she had drunk the whole glass down to the last drop.

“Mother, Mother” the nuns cried, “Give us some wisdom before you die!”

She raised herself up in bed with a pious look on her face
and pointing out the window, she said,

“Don’t sell that cow!”.



Hi everybody:  Sorry I’ve been gone from the “Tunnel” but I needed some time to deal with a health issue. Now it’s time to get back to shedding some more light humor into the blogosphere. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy producing it for you.  Jim


After Christmas, a teacher asked her young pupils how they spent their holiday away from school.

One child wrote the following:

We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live in  a big brick house but Grandpa got retarded and they moved  to Florida …Now  they live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look  like grass. 

They ride around on their bicycles and wear name tags because they don’t know who they are anymore. They go to a building called a wreck center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now, they do exercises there, but they don’t do them very well. There is a swimming pool too, but all they do is jump up and down in it…with hats on. 

At their gate, there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out, and go cruising in their golf carts. 

Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And, they eat the same thing every night  — early birds. Some of the people can’t get out past the man in the doll house. The ones who do get out, bring food back to the wrecked center for pot  luck. 

My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too. When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the doll house. Then I will let people out, so they can visit their grandchildren.




The Bagpiper

I love this story.

Lay down what’s bothering you, breath in
the fresh air and LISTEN to this story.

Time is like a river. You cannot touch
the water twice, because the flow that
has passed will never pass again.
Enjoy every moment of life.

As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently
I was asked by a funeral director to play at
a graveside service for a homeless man.
He had no family or friends, so the service
was to be at a pauper’s cemetery in the
Nova Scotia back country.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods,
I got lost and, being a typical man,
I didn’t stop for directions.

I finally arrived an hour late and saw the
funeral guy had evidently gone and the
hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only
the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch.
I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late.

I went to the side of the grave and looked down
and the vault lid was already in place. I didn’t know
what else to do, so I started to play. The workers
put down their lunches and began to gather around.
I played out my heart and soul for this man with
no family and friends. I played like I’ve never
played before for this homeless man.

And as I played “Amazing Grace”,
the workers began to weep. They wept,
I wept, we all wept together. When I finished,
I packed up my bagpipes and started for my car.
Though my head was hung low, my heart was full.

As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the
workers say, “I never seen anything like that before,
and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”

Apparently, I’m still lost….it’s a man thing.

Read More Read More



A man in a hot air balloon realized he was lost.
He reduced altitude and spotted a woman below.
He descended a bit more and shouted, “Excuse me,
can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet
him an hour ago, but I don’t know where I am.”

The woman below replied, “You’re in a hot air balloon
hovering approximately 30 feet above the ground.
You’re between 40 and 41 degrees north latitude
and between 9 and 60 degrees west longitude.

“You must be in Information Technology,” said the balloonist.
“I am,” replied the woman, “How did you know?”

“Well,” answered the balloonist, “everything you told
me is, technically correct, but I’ve no idea what to make
of your information, and the fact is I’m still lost.
Frankly, you’ve not been much help at all. If anything,
you’ve delayed my trip.”

The woman below responded, “You must be in Management.”

“I am,” replied the balloonist, “but how did you know?”

“Well,” said the woman, “you don’t know where you are or
where you’re going. You have risen to where you are,
due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise,
which you’ve no idea how to keep, and you expect people
beneath you to solve your problems. The fact is you are
in exactly the same position you were in before we met,
but now, somehow, it’s my fault.”



Wild life, especially squirrels, can sometimes be a problem in our “civilized” world. Here are some examples of how different religious groups have dealt with this problem.


The Presbyterian Church called a meeting
to decide what to do about their squirrels.
After much prayer and consideration, they
concluded the squirrels were predestined
to be there and they shouldn’t interfere with
God’s divine will.

At the Baptist Church the squirrels had
taken an interest in the baptistery.
The deacons met and decided to put a
water slide on the baptistery and let the
squirrels drown themselves. The squirrels
liked the slide and, unfortunately, knew
instinctively how to swim so twice as many
squirrels showed up the following week.

The Methodist Church decided that they
were not in a position to harm any of God’s
creatures. So, they humanely trapped their
squirrels and set them free near the Baptist Church.
Two weeks later the squirrels were back when
the Baptists took down the water slide.

But the Catholic Church came up with a very
creative strategy. They baptized all the squirrels
and consecrated them as members of the church.
Now they only see them on Christmas and Easter.

Not much was heard from the Jewish Synagogue;
they took the first squirrel and circumcised him.
They haven’t seen a squirrel since.





Shown below is an actual letter that was sent to a bank by an 86 year old woman. The bank manager thought it  amusing enough to have it published.


Dear Sir:

I am writing to thank you for bouncing my check with which I endeavored
to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations, three nanosecond
must have elapsed between his presenting the check and the arrival
in my account of the funds needed to honor it. I refer, of course,
to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire pension, an arrangement
which, I admit, has been in place for only eight years.

You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity,
and also for debiting my account $30 by way of penalty for the
inconvenience caused to your bank.

My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has
caused me to rethink my errant financial ways. I noticed that whereas I
personally answer your telephone calls and letters, — when I try to
contact you, I am confronted by the impersonal, overcharging,
pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become.

From now on, I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh-and-blood

My mortgage and loan repayments will therefore and hereafter no longer
be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed
personally and confidentially to an employee at your bank whom you must

Be aware that it is an OFFENSE under the Postal Act for any other
person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an Application
Contact which I require your chosen employee to complete.

I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much
about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative.

Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be
countersigned by a Notary Public, and the mandatory details of his/her
financial situation (income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be
accompanied by documented proof.

In due course, at MY convenience, I will issue your employee with a PIN
number which he/she must quote in dealings with me.

I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have
modeled it on the number of button presses required of me to access my
account balance on your phone bank service.

As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Let me level
the playing field even further. When you call me, press buttons as


#1. To make an appointment to see me
#2. To query a missing payment.
#3. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
#4 To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
#5. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
#6. To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
#7. To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer
is required. Password will be communicated to you at a later date
to that Authorized Contact mentioned earlier.
#8. To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through
#9. To make a general complaint or inquiry. The contact will then
be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated
answering service.
#10. This is a second reminder to press * for English.

While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music
will play for the duration of the call. Regrettably, but again following
your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the
setting up of this new arrangement.

May I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous New Year?
Your Humble Client.  And remember: Don’t make old people mad.
We don’t like being old in the first place, so it doesn’t take much
to piss us off.



Grandpa Cass continues to be the fixer upper man of Elk Rapids,  Michigan in the 1930’s and 40’s.  Here is another story from the many I shared with my grown children in 2012 in a daylong video session I called Conversations with Dad.   I hope this will help you recall some of those great events in your past.  Enjoy !