While walking down the street one day a "Member of Parliament" is tragically hit by a truck and dies.
His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
'Welcome to heaven,' says St. Peter. 'Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you.'
'No problem, just let me in,' says the man.
'Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.'
'Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,' says the MP.
'I'm sorry, but we have our rules.'
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people.
They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.
Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly & nice guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before he realizes it, it is time to go.
Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises....
The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him.
'Now it's time to visit heaven.'
So, 24 hours pass with the MP joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.
'Well, then, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.'
The MP reflects for a minute, then he answers: 'Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.'
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.
Now the doors of the elevator open and he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage.
He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.
The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder.
'I don't understand,' stammers the MP. 'Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?'
The devil looks at him, smiles and says, "Yesterday, we were campaigning.. ...
Today, you voted."
During Marine Basic Training Camp a Captain received information that the mother of one of the recruits had passed away. The Captain calls Sergeant Black into his office and tells him, "When you line up the troops this morning you need to inform Private Jones that his mother died."
"Yes Sir!" says Black. That morning as the men were lined up Black bellows out, "Hup, hey, ho, ho. Jones your mother died." Jones falls over with a heart attack.
A month later the Captain calls Black into his office and says, "Black, you need to tell Private Smith his mother died. But this time use some tact. I don't want to lose another good recruit.
"Yes Sir!" Black answers.
This time when the men are lined up Black yells out, "Okay. All you men with living mothers take one step forward - NOT SO FAST, SMITH!"
When Noses Bloom
I started life with a small nose,
tiny hands, fingers and toes;
I grew in spurts, then with a boom,
my little nose burst into bloom.
My body parts all grew apace,
except the middle of my face--
in growth it never showed a lack,
it was the leader of the pack.
It left the rest of me behind.
At first I didn't even mind;
then when its bloom was almost done,
my nose became a source of fun.
My friends tagged me with stupid names.
This was one of their favorite games--
pain comes with more than sticks and stones;
I told them, "Leave my nose alone!"
Then once my nose had reached its peak,
proclaimed by some a handsome beak,
I found its size to be a plus,
and not a thing for animus.
There are so many things to smell,
not all the noses do it well;
mine can suck in all the scents,
from fragrant blooms to moldy tents.
It keeps my lips dry in the rain,
locates a skunk and warns my brain;
all races I win "by a nose";
in winter's cold it starts to glow.
Those small nosed people now despair,
they wish they had a nose so rare!
This nose of mine has grown on me;
I'm pleased with it as I can be!
Though it won't ever be called cute--
it's too much like a yellow fruit--
at least it's left the blooming stage,
unless it grows more in old age!