This may come as a surprise to those of you not living in Las Vegas, but there are more catholic churches than casinos there. Not surprisingly, some worshippers at Sunday services will give casino chips rather than cash when the basket is passed. Since they get chips from many different casinos, the churches have devised a method to collect the offerings. The churches send all their chips to a nearby Franciscan monastery for sorting and then the chips are taken to the casino of origin and cashed in. This is done by the Chip Monks.
The Country Dunny
The service station trade was slow
the owner sat around
with sharpened knife and cedar stick
piled shavings on the ground.
No modern facilities had they
the log accross the rill
led to a shack marked 'His' and 'Hers'
that sat against the hill.
"Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"
The owner leaning back
said not a word but whittled on
and nodded toward the shack.
With a quickened step she entered there
but only stayed a minute
until she screamed like a snake or spider might be in it.
With startled look and beet red face
she bounded through the door
and headed quickly for the car.
Just like three gals before
she missed the foot log - jumped the stream
The owner gave a shout
as her silk stockings down at her knees
caught on a sassafras sprout.
She tripped and fell - got up
and then in obvius disgust
ran to the car, stepped on the gas
and faded into the dust.
Of course we all desired to know
what made the gals all do
the things they did, and then we found
the whittling owner knew.
A speaking system he'd devised
to make the thing complete
he'd tied a speaker on the wall
beneath the toliet seat.
He'd wait until the gals got set
and then the devilish tike,
would stop whittling long enough
to speak into the mike.
As she sat a voice below
struck terror, fright and fear,
"Will you please use the other hole,
we're painting under here!"
One morning while attending Timbertops School in Australia, Prince Charles attended a service at the local parish church. As the royal visitor left his church, the rector apologized for the small turnout. "Being a bank holiday weekend," he explained, "most of the parishoner are away." "Not another bank holiday!" the Prince exclaimed, "What's this one in aid of?" "Well," the rector replied rather embarrassed, "over here we call it the Queen's birthday."