Café Philos: an internet café

Courtesy of Married to the Sea

From "Married to the Sea"

"Humor is not a mood but a way of looking at the world. So if it is correct to say that humor was stamped out in Nazi Germany, that does not mean that people were not in good spirits, or anything of that sort, but something much deeper and more important."

- Ludwig Wittgenstein

"The wit makes fun of other persons; the satirist makes fun of the world; the humorist makes fun of himself, but in so doing, he identifies himself with people—that is, people everywhere, not for the purpose of taking them apart, but simply revealing their true nature."

- James Thurber

Tower: "Eastern 702, cleared for takeoff, contact Departure on frequency 124.7"

Eastern 702: "Tower, Eastern 702 switching to Departure. By the way, after we lifted off we saw some kind of dead animal on the far end of the runway."

Tower: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff behind Eastern 702, contact Departure on frequency 124.7. Did you copy that report from Eastern 702?"

Continental 635: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff, roger; and yes, we copied Eastern... We've already notified our caterers."

A farm boy accidentally overturned a wagon of corn on the road. A nearby farmer saw the accident and went over to have a look and found the boy trying to right the tipped wagon.

"Hey Willie," the farmer said. "Forget your troubles for a spell... it's late, come have dinner with us. I'll help you with that wagon after we eat."

"That's mighty nice of you, but Pa won't like that," Willie replied.

"Aw, come on son. Take a break," the farmer insisted.

"Well, okay," the boy finally agreed. "But Pa won't like it."

After a hearty meal, Willie thanked the farmer. "I feel a lot better now, but I just know that Pa will be upset."

"Nonsense," the farmer said. "Where is your pa anyway?"

"Under the wagon."

I have been sobbing for hours. Last night, I was engaged in a romantic moment with my Acme Latex Love Doll when I was abruptly blown across the room, against the wall, and to the floor.

At first, I thought she'd had her first orgasim, for I've heard that with some women the contractions can be quite forceful. I checked myself out and found I was unscathed, except that her boobie tassels were shallowly embedded in my chest. I stumbled back to our bed, and that's when I saw to my shock and horror that my Acme Latex Love Doll had distintegrated into more than a hundred lifeless pieces.

For perhaps an hour, I sat stunned on the bed fruitlessly trying to match her pieces back together again. It was beyond all hope, but in my shock, I could do nothing else. Then my memory began returning to me. Finally, I grasped the events which had occured immediately prior to her fatal explosion. I cannot...I will never be able to...adequately describe the emotions that surged within me when I realized my Acme Latex Love Doll had been done in by an all too passionate love bite, which I myself had inflicted on her! She had trusted me! And I had returned her trust by murdering her.

I was filled with self-loathing, remorse and guilt. I don't know how long I sat there numb with the realization that I had killed my lover, but eventually I came to my senses and realized that I must turn myself in. So, I called 911. In tears, I confessed the whole thing to the operator. I held back no detail, even though I knew I was convicting myself of homicide. I begged the operator to send the police to arrest me.

That was hours ago, and the police still haven't shown up. (Does anyone care about homicide in this town?) Yet, I expect to hear their sirens and screeching tires at any moment. I have not tried to clean up my beloved's remains. I want to do nothing to disturb the evidence of my crime. What future do I have without her, anyway?


























April Fools!

(Thanks to my friend Don for passing this along.)

In order to attract more female readers to this blog, I have decided that on Fridays I shall post in the Buff. That is, entirely nude.

Here at Café Philos, we go the extra mile for our clients!

Two little boys, ages 8 and 10, were excessively mischievous. They were always getting into trouble and, since it was a small town and everyone gossipped, their parents knew all about it. If any mischief occurred in their town, the two boys were probably involved.

One day, the boys' mother heard that a preacher in town had been successful in disciplining children, so in desperation she asked if he would speak with her boys.

The preacher agreed, but he asked to see them individually. So the mother sent the 8 year old first, in the morning, with the older boy to see the preacher in the afternoon.

The preacher, a huge man with a booming voice, sat the younger boy down and asked him sternly, "Do you know where God is, son?" The boy's mouth dropped open, but he made no response, sitting there wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open.

So the preacher repeated the question in an even sterner tone, "Where is God?!" Again, the boy made no attempt to answer.

The preacher raised his voice even more and shook his finger in the boy's face and bellowed, "Where is God?!" The boy screamed & bolted from the room, ran directly home & dove into his closet, slamming the door behind him.

When his older brother found him in the closet, he asked, "What happened?" The younger brother, gasping for breath, replied, "We are in BIG trouble this time. GOD is missing, and they think we did it!"




My thanks to my friend Don for passing this along to me.