Fun and Games
My nieces and nephews will get a kick out of this one: 17 trees are saved by every ton of existing paper that is recycled. That means if we pulped every Harry Potter book we wouldn’t be able to see the sky for foliage.
And here’s a comic sure to bring a chuckle:
The Gettysburg address is 269 words, the Declaration of Independence is 1,337 words, and the Bible is only 773,000 words. However, the tax law has grown from 11,400 words in 1913 to 7 million words today.
The IRS sends out 8 billion pages of forms and instructions each year. Laid end to end, they would stretch 28 times around the earth.
Nearly 300,000 trees are cut down yearly to produce the paper for all the IRS forms and instructions.
American taxpayers spend over $200 billion and 5.4 billion hours working to comply with federal taxes each year, more than it takes to produce every car, truck, and van in the United States.
The amount of effort needed to calculate and pay federal income for individuals and businesses in the United States is the equivalent of a staff of 3 million people working full-time for a year.
The IRS employs 114,000 people — twice as many as the CIA and five times more than the FBI.
60% of taxpayers must hire a professional to get through their own return.
Taxes eat up 38.2% of the average family’s income; that’s more than for food, clothing and shelter combined.
Saw the cutest triplets in the mall last week. Each had a personalized shirt.
1st shirt said: I WAS PLANNED.
2nd one said: I WAS NOT.
3rd said: ME NEITHER!
After the baby was baptized, her four-year-old brother was crying inconsolably in the back seat of the car. “What’s the matter Johnny?” asked his concerned mother. Johnny replied: “That man said that he hoped our baby would be raised in a good Christian home…I just want her to stay with you guys.”
A mother and her son were flying Southwest Airlines from Kansas City to Chicago. The son (who had been looking out the window) turned to his mother and asked, “If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don’t big planes have baby planes?”
The mother (who couldn’t think of an answer) told her son to ask the flight attendant so the boy asked the attendant, “If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don’t big planes have baby planes?”
She responded, “Did your mother tell you to ask me?” The boy admitted that was the case.
“Well, then, tell your mother that there are no baby planes because Southwest always pulls out on time. Your mother can explain that to you.”
Professional basketball, college basketball, it’s all going on. On today’s date, Monday, April3 3rd, the NCAA Championship game takes place between Gonzaga University (Spokane, WA) and University of North Carolina. Three of my family members graduated from Gonzaga so you can bet I’m cheering for the Spokane team.
Here are some basketball-related jokes for today’s Monday funny.
I play in the over-40 basketball league. We don’t have jump balls. The ref just puts the ball on the floor and whoever can bend over and pick it up gets possession.
Earl and Bob, both obsessed with basketball, never missed their favorite team’s games. They promised, whoever died first, and went to heaven, would come back to earth and tell the other if there was basketball in heaven.
One day, Earl died. Bob waited for him to come back. Finally, Earl did. He said to Bob. “I have good news and bad news. I’ll tell you the good news first. There is basketball in heaven.” Bob said, “That’s the best news ever!”
Then Earl said, “Time for the bad news…You’re starting at guard tomorrow night.”
St. Peter and Satan were having an argument one day about basketball. Satan proposed a game to be played on neutral grounds between a select team from the heavenly host and his own hand-picked boys.
“Very well,” said the gatekeeper of Heaven. “But you realize, I hope, that we’ve got all the good players and the best coaches.”
“I know, and that’s all right,” Satan answered unperturbed. “We’ve got all the refs.”
In some places of the world, the weather is improving: snow is melting, the temps are getting a bit warmer, and spring yard cleaning is in the forefront of our minds. Here’s some humor to get you in the mood.
When Phil’s power mower broke down, his wife Kristi kept dropping hints about getting it fixed before the grass got too tall, but the message wasn’t sinking in, and Phil kept putting off the repairs. Finally, she thought of a clever way to make her point. When Phil arrived at home one day, he found her sitting in the grass, clipping it by hand with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. He watched silently for a few minutes, then went into the house. Coming back in a few minutes, he handed her a toothbrush.
“When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the sidewalks.”
A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken.
There’s one good thing about snow, it makes your lawn look as nice as your neighbor’s.
My neighbour Bill asked if he could use my lawnmower. I told him of course he could, so long as he used it on my property.
We attended a family wedding this past Saturday – a very enjoyable get together to celebrate the marriage of one of our nieces. I thought I’d offer this little bit of humor that focuses on what might take place right after a couple gets engaged. I wonder if Jim & Wendy (Saturday’s parents of the bride) can relate?
When I announced that I was getting married, my excited mother said, “You have to have the rehearsal dinner someplace opulent, where there’s dancing.”
My father, seeing where this was heading, said, “I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to elope.”
“And you have to have a breakfast, for the people who are coming from out of town.”
“We’ll need a photographer. Oh, and what colors do you want for the reception?”
We eloped to Spain.
The couple had reached an age where the wife thought it was time to start considering wills and funeral arrangements rather than be caught unprepared. Her husband, however, wasn’t too interested in the topic.
“Would you rather be buried or cremated?” she asked him.
There was a pause, then he replied from behind his newspaper, “Surprise me.”
Mrs. Willencot was very frugal. When her husband died, she asked the newspaper how much it would cost for a death notice.
“Two dollars for five words.”
“Can I pay for just two words?” she asked. “Willencot dead.”
“No, two dollars is the minimum. You still have three words remaining.”
Mrs. Willencot thought a moment then said, “Cadillac for sale.”
A grieving widow was discussing her late husband with a friend. “My Albert was such a good man, and I miss him so. He provided well for me with that fifty-thousand dollar insurance policy – but I would give back a thousand of it, just to have him with me again.”