Ripley's Believe It or Not by Ripley’s Believe It or Not! for November 03, 2021

Well, baseball season has ended in a grand flourish for Atlanta fans, though perhaps “ignominious” would describe it better for Houston adherents. Anyway, with normalcy returning to the stands, those wacky clerics are at it again:

A priest, a minister, and a rabbu all go to the blood bank to donate. “What’s your blood type?” the clerk asks the priest.

“Why, I’m type A,” the Holy Father replies.

Addressing the minister, the clerk asks, “And your blood type?”

“I’m an AB,” says the preacher.

And your blood type, Sir?”

The rabbu replies, “I’m a type O, of course.”

One time I was 13.39 inches long.

One time I bought a 3 million dollar lottery ticket.

May the Lord be with you.

Was it a corn snake in North Carolina named Jewel?

Okay, Jason. See what your pet snake has done now!

This joke represents a confluence of baseball and politics. I’m pretty sure there are followers of these jokes of various political persuasions, so I have gone to the trouble of removing references to one or another of our former POTUS’s – making it kind of like a unisex bathroom. So, in your mind, you can rewrite this and insert the names you feel best belong there. And as a consequence of my doing so, I’d appreciate it if you don’t fill in those names in your comments, or otherwise try to make what is a pretty congenial forum into a partisan, and therefore angry forum.

A former POTUS and his wife are at a baseball game. During the opening ceremonies, their secret service agent goes to the former President and whispers something in his ear. He looks up at the agent and says “I’m not sure I can do that”. The agent then says “Well, sir, it’s the teams’ and fans’ request and I think we should give the people what they want”. Former POTUS says “Well, if it’s what the people want, then it’s what the people shall get”. He turns to his wife, grabs her by the collar of her shirt and the belt on her waist and throws her over the railing and onto the field. The crowd goes wild, and former POTUS waves at the fans as his wife lies face down on the ground.

The secret service agent shakes his head and sighs and says “Sir, what they wanted was for you to throw out the first PITCH.”

So, congratulations to the Atlanta Braves for finishing off the 2021 World Series by their victory over the Houston Astros, 7-0. Being from Texas now, I favored the Astros, but you don’t always get what you want, and after all, it’s only a game, and all the folks playing, coaching and managing both teams do very well financially, win or lose. I shed no tears for the losers, just congratulations on a season well played, even if they came up a bit short at the end. However – Just wait ‘til next year.

That dog should be named Dumbo.

Those damn snakes and their cigars…

I was jangled awake dark and early one spring morning by my bedside telephone. The main transmitter was off the air, the backup was on, and oh yeah, the smoke alarm at the transmitter site is alarming. Hour drive to the site, but the backup stayed on-air for the whole trip, so the building’s probably not burning down. No flash fire when I opened the building door, so that’s good.

When I entered the transmitter building, my first thought was “bar-b-que!” That was the weirdest smelling melted transformer or vented capacitor I’d ever encountered. Smelled a heck of a lot better than a fried selenium rectifier stack.

Start diagnosis with the power amplifier power supply, so I drop to my knees (aah, those were the days) in front of the PA rack, and begin unscrewing the panel screws. I moved the panel off to the side, and there he was; a two foot long copperhead! I stood up like a ninja!

I didn’t really need to worry. Cool night, warm 22 kilovolt transformer. He crawled on top of the transformer and bridged the output terminals. He wasn’t going to move again without help. So I helped. Cleaned up the mess, ran fans to ventilate the building, and got the main back on-air. But I never did figure out where he got into the building.

I c the one regarding the family winning the lottery is a replica of a Norman Rockwell illustration.

“We’re going to have to pull over for a potty break, sorry dear.” “it’s your fault if we’re late!”

Take care, may fun-loving divorce lawyer Jane “We’ll Take The House, Both Cars, The Furniture, and All The Kids, Plus Alimony!” Fearmord be with you, and gesundheit.

I wonder if the actual person who bought the lottery ticket is the one who gets all the $?

I love the Norman Rockwell reference! It’s not too shabby either! :D

Holy flaming snakes!!!

That coonhound was the Flying Nun’s pet.

Joe Biden’s jowls were 13.39 inches long before the face lift. As if you haven’t noticed. Come on, man. Let’s Go, Brandon.

I heartily approve your inclusion of the Norman Rockwell Saturday Evening cover on this family – ha, ha!!

In Normandy, I rock well

Where are the crowns to teach this dog to fly?

Never seen a snake whistle before.

Lou is the type that keeps his ear to the ground. He kinda has to.

I live almost to the Oregon boarder. Where would n Oregon is this dog with 8.59-centimetre-long ears?

I’ve never bought any kind of lottery ticket in my life and probably never will.