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Becquet.ca features . . . Jokes from all over!



RETURNING home from my job as a painter and decorator, I noticed a magnificent rainbow in the evening sky. Eager to show my young son something that he had never seen before, I took him outside and held him up to have a look. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "How'd you do it, Dad?"

AS AN electrician, I was given a new switch to fit on the wall. The switch was made in China and came with a small booklet of instructions in Chinese and in English. The final page showed photographs of the switch in the "on" and "off" positions, the first captioned "Light on" and the second, "Dark on."

MY FRIEND'S father is a locksmith in a resort town. Once he saw a group of beach goers park near his shop and dump trash from their car on his property. As soon as they were out of sight, the locksmith picked the lock on their car door, put the garbage back inside and relocked the car.

OUR veteran TV repairman was teaching his trade to an apprentice. As I watched the two men pull our set away from the wall, the older man cautioned the neophyte, "Be careful when you get down on the floor or Mildred will be all over you with her wet kisses." Seeing the assistant look apprehensively my way, I hastily introduced him to our friendly basset hound.

A BOX of raisins was usually kept in our office refrigerator for snacking. During the day, staff members would help themselves and, inevitably, some raisins dropped on the floor where they were stepped on and ground into the carpet. One morning we found this note, written by the cleaning woman, taped to the refrigerator door: "If you're trying to make wine, the grapes are too dry."

A TEAM of painters working on the outside of the Australian nursery school where I taught always managed to be near an open window each time the radio program "Story Time" began. Before long, brushes put down and elbows resting with rapt attention. One morning before school started, a young painter approached me, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I was sick yesterday ma'am. Tell me, what did happen to the little dragon?"

PART of my job as secretary for an appliance repair shop was to schedule appointments for service calls. One morning a distraught woman phoned and asked for someone to fix her refrigerator. When I told her I could have a service technician at her house in an hour, she thanked me and hung up. A minute later, she called back. "Honey," she said, "I don't need a service technician. I need a refrigerator repairman."

AS A builder, I once did some work in the kitchen of the apartment where Peter Sellers and his first wife lived. One day, while Sellers was in his study and his wife and I were discussing the work, the doorbell rang. After answering it, a highly amused Mrs. Sellers came back with a telegram from her husband. It read: BRING ME A CUP OF COFFEE.

WE HAD built our dream house some years ago, and furnished it with quality pieces as we could afford them.  Now the delivery truck carrying the last purchase — a new bedroom suite — was pulling into the driveway.   "Finally!"  I exclaimed, flinging open the front door as the driver walked up to the house.  "I've been waiting twelve years for this!"   "Don't blame me, lady," he said.  "I just got the order this morning."

SEVERAL weeks after my mother had taken her television set into the shop for minor repairs, it still hadn't been fixed.  She began to make periodic phone calls to see when it would be ready, and was assured each time that it would be only a few days longer.  Exasperated, she decided to let the repair service know just how much she missed her set.  A day or so after her last call, employees at the shop opened an envelope sent by my mother and found —- to their amusement — a "Get Well" card for her television set.  It was repaired the next day.

WHEN my husband and I started our own wood-products company, he had business cards printed listing himself as president. Since ours was an equal partnership, I asked him what my title was.  "I'm president," he insisted.  "But you are chairman of the boards."

MY HUSBAND'S skills with do-it-yourself home repairs are at best mediocre. After trying several times to fix a leak in the bathroom, he finally admitted defeat and called a plumber, who finished the job in ten minutes. Watching him put away his equipment, my son asked what had been the problem.
    "Well," the plumber replied, "your father got hold of some tools . . ."

A CUSTOMER asked my husband, who is in the roofing business, for an estimate on ripping off old shingles and replacing them with new ones. When he handed him the estimate, the customer burst out laughing. In front of the price, my husband had written: "Complete rip off." He got the job.

ONE Friday afternoon, the crane operator on the construction project across from my office started his usual going home routine. He placed his belongings in a small bucket, climbed out on a catwalk and lowered the bucket by a pulley to the top deck of the skeletal building below. This scene had been enacted some 100 times since the crane was erected. Now the building was topped out, and the final act was drawing to a close. Standing tall, the crane man straightened his clothing and faced my office building. Then, with a slow and dramatic flourish, he spread his arms and bowed low, like a Shakespearean actor acknowledging an enthusiastic audience. Then he turned, disappearing into the bowels of the building. Monday morning the crane was gone.

BEFORE moving into his new office on the third floor of a ten-story building, my husband hired a carpenter to do some renovations. Since the building was locked on Saturday, he met the carpenter and left the keys for the ground floor entrance and the office with him. Later, on his return, my husband realized he would be unable to re-enter the building. Then he spotted a truck with a cherry picker attached, from which a worker was caulking windows. My husband explained his plight. The man lowered the cherry picker, moved the truck below the lighted window, climbed back into the picker, floated up to the window, tapped gently and spoke with the carpenter - who came down and opened the door.

MY NEIGHBOR is a cement contractor who does a lot of business with mobile home-park residents. Many of them, leisure-loving retirees, order green cement "lawns" so that they no longer have to mow grass and pull weeds. Although most customers are happy with their no-care yards, one man called to express dissatisfaction. When my neighbor drove out to the mobile-home park, he found no apparent cause for complaint. "I hate to brag," he said to the man, "but this cement looks as good as on the day I poured it." "That's the trouble," groaned the man. "It's too perfect, and it's getting on my nerves. I want you to paint a dandelion right in the middle."

A BRICKLAYER at my husband's construction job routinely complained about the contents of his lunch box. "I'm sick and tired of getting the same old thing!" he shouted one day. "Tonight I'll set my wife straight." The next day the men could hardly wait until lunch time to hear what happened. "You bet I told her off," the bricklayer boasted. "I said, 'No more of the same old stuff. Be creative!' We had one heck of a fight, but I got my point across. " He had indeed. In front of an admiring audience, he opened his lunch box to find that his wife had packed a coconut-and a hammer.

KNOWING that children and dogs are attracted to freshly poured concrete like bears are to honey, my co-worker and I erected a formidable-looking barrier around the 3-meter length of sidewalk we had just finished pouring and leveling. "There, that ought to keep 'em out," commented my friend as we put the last saw horse in place. Moments later, we watched dumb-founded as an elderly white-haired woman carefully, but determinedly, climbed over one end of our barricade. She then traversed the entire length of wet concrete and, using the point of her umbrella, inscribed: EDNA MAE WAS HERE.

ONE bitter January morning, my wife answered the phone at our plumbing and heating business and was informed by a shivering female customer that the heat in her home had gone off. The woman wanted someone to stop by as soon as possible to fix the furnace. "Now don't worry, honey," my wife told her. "You just jump back in bed and cover up. I'll send my husband over right away."

THE man was just about finished installing the shag carpeting in our living room. He had been working for five hours straight, and his good mood had rapidly deteriorated. But then he heard one of our barefooted children exclaim to the other, "You've gotta come in here! You won't believe your toes!"

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Last updated October 02, 2015 by Becquet Enterprises