Another one from Richard.
During the Revolutionary War, there were British sympathizers known as Tories among the colonists. Some of them would work hand-in-hand with the Redcoats to try to foil the battle plans of the Continental Army.
After a certain skirmish, a group of General Washington’s men tracked one of these sympathizers to a farm, which they searched for hours without success. A militiaman then came up with the idea to release a hen into a barn where they suspected the fugitive might be hiding.
Sure enough, loud cackling and commotion quickly ensued, and the soldiers were finally able to take their prisoner into custody. This was the first known instance where someone had a chicken catch a Tory
Tastes like pork, this ” joke”!!!!!!
I appreciate Richard’s fowl sense of humor!
Denny, Stick with the moon-sized aureole boobage.
It may be gross, but at least that’s entertaining.
Probably the first soldier to every utter “How does a guy get out of this chickenshit outfit?”
http://bit.ly/KscPzK
It’s a good yoke, Denny. Five of your roosters have been clucking a comment without any hen pecking. Maybe we can all have a coqtail at the ranch and boo the Tory who got laid as a chicken low man should.
If only we could transform the barn into a barack, and strip it till we hear crocking , ” Stop! It’s me, Omama…I’ve been cooked boneless !”
I could improve that last sentence a few times. But you do it yourselves, guys, if you wish It’s your Chicken a la King, not mine!
That was actually the punchline of one of the “Peabody’s Improbable History” segments, way back on the old “Rocky and Bullwinkle” cartoon show.
Another was the one about the Indian tribe that sold apples from the orchard on their reservation. But one night, the bad guys came in with chainsaws and cut down all the apple trees! Without their source of income, what was the tribe to do? Why, they put in an automobile racetrack where the orchard had been, and they got rich!
Sherman: “I don’t get it, Mr. Peabody. How did they get rich from that?”
Mr. Peabody: “Sherman, surely you’ve heard of the Appleless-Indian 500!”
I used to ride into Portland with my buddies who worked at the same office. Each morning I would go to the corner to meet them and make the ten mile trip in to Portland.
I had a problem. Every day on the way I would have a panic attack. The guys said, “Look. You’ve got to get this taken care of. This is getting serious. You’ve got to see a doctor. So I went.
I told the shrink about my attacks and he asked me to recount in my mind everything I saw along the way. “Well,” I said. “We start out in Beaverton, drive in on Hwy 26. We go under the Zoo overpass, then through the Vista Ridge tunnel… ya know, come to think about it, that’s about when I have my panic attack.”
The doctor thought for a moment, then said, “Ah! I think I know your problem. What you have is carpool tunnel syndrome.”