Will and Guy's Joke of the Day #23
6 ½ Lawn Mower Jokes
A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is
blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken.
Why are husbands like lawn mowers?
They are difficult to get started, and then they don't work
half the time.
There's one good thing about snow, it makes your lawn look
as nice as your neighbour's. Clyde Moore
Will - Why do you water your lawn with whisky?
Guy - So that it comes up half-cut.
My neighbour Bill asked if he could use my lawnmower.
I told him of course he could,
so long as he didn't take it out of my garden.
What do you call someone who used to like tractors?
An extractor fan.
What do you call a cow who works for a gardener?
A lawn moo-er.
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* Lawn Discussion
Preamble
I am the only person in my road that has an old fashioned
push mower. I never weed my lawn as I love the plant diversity;
yellow buttercups in April, clover in June and July. Everyone
else in my street has a motor mower, some even have sit-on
mowers even thought they can barely turn them around as their
gardens are so small. Now you know why I empathise with this
discussion kindly sent in by John Franklin.
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God and St. Francis Discussing Lawns
GOD: St. Francis, you know all about gardens and nature.
What in the world is going on down there in the USA?
What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff
I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden
plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand
drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the
long lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees
and flocks of songbirds.
I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see
are these green rectangles.
ST. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord.
The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers weeds
and went to great lengths to kill them
and replace them with grass.
GOD: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't
attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms.
It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites
really want all that grass growing there?
ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to
grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing
grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.
GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make
grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.
ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little,
they cut it, sometimes twice a week.
GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?
ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly Lord. Most of them rake it up
and put it in bags.
GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?
ST. FRANCIS: No, sir -- just the opposite.
They pay to throw it away.
GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will
grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay
to throw it away?
ST. FRANCIS: Yes, sir.
GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer
when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely
slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.
ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the
grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay
more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and
pay to get rid of it.
GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees.
That was a sheer stoke of genius, if I do say so myself.
The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and
shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground
and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and
protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves
form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.
ST. FRANCIS: You'd better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites
have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake
them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.
GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots
in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?
ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and
buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and
spread it around in place of the leaves.
GOD: And where do they get this mulch?
ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up
to make the mulch.
GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore.
St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie
have you scheduled for us tonight?
ST. CATHERINE: Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid
movie about ...
GOD: Never mind,
I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis
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