A cocky Department of Agriculture representative stopped at a farm and talked with the old farmer: “I need to inspect your farm.”
The old farmer said, “You better not go in that field.”
The Agriculture representative said in a “wise” tone, “I have the authority of the U. S. Government with me. See this card? I am allowed to go wherever I wish on agricultural land.”
So the old farmer went about his farm chores.
Later, the farmer heard loud screams and saw the Department of Agriculture man running for the fence; close behind was the farmer’s prize bull. The bull was madder than a nest full of hornets, and the bull was gaining at every step.
“Help,” the rep shouted to the farmer, “What should I do?” he screamed helplessly.
The old farmer, hooking his thumbs in his overalls, called out: “Show him your card.”
Source: Mikey’s Funnies
Two men, one from Alabama and one from Texas, were having a friendly chat.
The man from Texas asked the Alabaman how big his home place was, and the Alabaman answered, “Oh, I’d say I own about a hundred acres. How ’bout you?”
The Texan replied, “Well son, if you got in a truck and drove from sunup to sundown, you still wouldn’t reach the end of my property.”
The Alabaman responded, “Yep, I had a truck like that once.”
A group of Canadians was traveling by tour bus through Holland.
As they stopped at a cheese farm, a young guide led them through a process of cheese making, explaining that goat’s milk was used.
She showed the group a lovely hillside where many goats were grazing. These, she explained, were the older goats put out to pasture when they no longer produced.
She then asked, “What do you do in Canada with your old goats that aren’t producing?”
A spry old gentleman answered, “They send us on bus tours.”
Years ago, I was a big city boy preaching in a small country town. I wanted to learn everything “country” so that I could fit in. As I was searching for Widow Jones’ farm, I got lost on the back roads. I saw a farmer walking into his barn so I stopped for directions.
He was just beginning to milk his cow but took time out to tell me how to get to the Jones’ farm. “By the way, ” I asked, “Do you know what time it is?” He leaned in to the udder of the cow and said, “12:30.”
I started to leave but I just HAD to know. I told him, “Hey, I’ve just moved from the city and I really want to know the ways of the country. How could you tell what time it was?”
“Sit right here on this stool, son.” I did.
“Now, grab hold of that udder.” I did. (Before this, my closest experience to this was grabbing a milk carton).
“Now lean into the cow and lift up on the udder.” I did.
“Lean over and look right over there on that wall. See that’s a clock. When the little hand is on the 12…”