Clean Jokes

I have made a very conscience effort to keep my blog G-rated, and with that, only clean jokes are permitted.

It’s one of the more difficult things to do.

Ask someone to tell you a clean joke (besides your priest, rabbi, or minister), and they’ll roll their eyes and have to think long and hard about it.

So, if you have any clean jokes that you want to share, post them in the Comments here. If I get a laugh when I repeat it to someone else, I’ll reprint it for everyone else.

(that means no sailor-talk, Mister Peace)

You don’t seriously want a job, do you?

We’ve received over 40 applications from people seeking employment at our new place. It’s strange to be on the other side of the application, and remembering applying at Sully’s or Rosette (now Cork in Bend).

First off – I have to realize that there are some people that make a full-time job out of trying NOT to get a job. Those people that are just fine and dandy collecting their unemployment or welfare check, and really don’t want to have to earn their living. These are the people that turn in applications just to make their quota each week so that they can continue to receive benefits from the state. Most of these applications are barely filled out, have an incorrect phone number, or are faxed over directly from the unemployment office. Even better, if I leave a message for them to call me back to set an interview, they don’t return the call.

<Begin Rant> Here’s a thought: Make these people WORK for their benefits! There are plenty of jobs that they could do — cleaning the park, re-painting curbs, mowing lawns for senior citizens, doing temporary jobs at City Hall or the Courthouse like filing, sweeping, cleaning windows… Why are they handing out checks to people whose only job is to apply for jobs and try to fail miserably at the interviews? It’s absolutely wrong. </Rant>

Secondly – if you have a MySpace profile, be sure that you mark it as “Private”, or better yet, use it to advertise what a great person you are! List your accomplishments, not your faults. Some of the profiles on these high school students… my God! Parents should figure out how to get online and see what their kids are broadcasting. The comments back and forth, planning to sneak out, steal alcohol, get high… one of the kids that applied boasted on his/her MySpace that he/she steals beer from his parents (or his neighbors fridge in the garage next door). He’s 16-years-old. Do you think for one second that I’m going to hire this kid?

I just don’t see any benefit in publishing a laundry list of “Reasons Why Your Daughter Should Never Date Me”. Pretend that everything you write online will be seen by your future employer, future in-laws, or future kids. If you wouldn’t say it out loud to your sweetheart’s parents, don’t publish it on a webpage for the world to see.

Can’t Sleep / Pizza on the brain

Whitey and I are swapping nights that we sleep. I slept from about midnight until 4am this morning, and have been making lists ever since. Lists calm me. They also frighten me, because I realize how much we’re forgetting to do before we open. I have two whole pages of things that we’ve neglected to order or take care of. Shoot, I only JUST ordered our pint glasses and T-shirts yesterday!

So, so, so tired. My folks are on their way here to help out. My dad is incredibly handy – a Gen.Contractor by trade. We’ve got a short list of stuff for him to help us with. My mom is an interior designer, so she’s showing up with decor from their store that we can use in the restaurant.

My house is a mess. There are boxes towered in the living room, waiting to be moved to the restaurant. There are stacks of paper covering my dining table. The yard is starting to look a little worse for the wear as well. I feel like everything is in such disarray.

I need to make more lists.

Theater Funny

A man was sprawled across three entire seats in a theater. When the usher came by and noticed this, he whispered to the man, “Sorry sir, but you’re only allowed one seat.” The man groaned but didn’t budge. The usher became impatient.

“Sir,” the usher said, “if you don’t get up from there, I’m going to have to call the manager.”

Again, the man just groaned, which infuriated the usher who turned and marched briskly back up the aisle in search of his manager. In a few moments, both the usher and the manager returned and stood over the man. Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move him, but with no success. Finally, they summoned the police. The cop surveyed the situation briefly.

“All right, buddy. What’s your name?”

“Sam,” the man moaned.

“Where ya from, Sam?” the cop asked.

“The balcony.”