Parents, listen up: school is out for the year but not before a list of model excuses for your child being absent were released to the public:
Please excuse Lisa for being absent. She was sick and I had her shot.
Please excuse Gloria from Jim today. She is administrating.
Please excuse Roland from P.E. for a few days. Yesterday he fell out of a tree and misplaced his hip.
John has been absent because he had two teeth taken out of his face.
Carlos was absent yesterday, because he was playing football. He was hurt in a growing part.
Megan could not come to school today, because she has been bothered by very close veins.
Please excuse Ray Friday from school. He has very loose vowels.
Please excuse Pedro from being absent yesterday. He had (diahre) (dyrea) (direathe) the runs. (Words in parentheses were crossed out.)
Irving was absent yesterday because he missed his bust.
Pleasing excuse Jimmy for being. It was his father’s fault.
—
A sheriff walks into a saloon and shouts, “Anyone here seen Brown Paper Jake?”
“What does he look like?” asks one buckaroo.
“Waal,” the sheriff rasps, “he wears a brown paper hat, a brown paper waistcoat, a brown paper shirt, brown paper boots, brown paper pants and a brown paper jacket.”
“What’s he wanted for?” asks another buckaroo.
“Rustlin,” growls the sheriff.
—
There seems to be quite a few of them around nowadays.
I’m talking about “Odd-Balls.”
Just listen to your friends describe those who are not with it, not on the same page as the rest of us.
Here are a few ways to describe them:
He’s not playing with a full deck.
I don’t think he has both oars in the water.
He ran too many plays without his helmet.
Running a quart low.
Three bricks shy of a load.
Her pilot light went off.
She’s not wrapped too tight.
They blew the dots off his dice.
Her elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor.
She doesn’t pack a full suitcase.
He’s riding shotgun with empty barrels.
He’s a few pickles short of a barrel.
His last job was the dial tone for the telephone company.
—
A man in a department store bought a cigar and started to light it.
“Didn’t you notice the sign?” asked the salesgirl.
“What!” the customer exploded. “You sell cigars in here but you prohibit smoking?”
The salesgirl smiled sweetly: “We also sell bath towels.”
—
An explosion occurred in the back room of the drug store, and the pharmacist emerged with black smoke marks on his face and his jacket in tatters.
Staggering up to the lady customer, he told her: “Would you mind having your doctor write out that prescription again, and, this time, tell him to PRINT it!”
—
Top o’ the morning!