A man sees a sign in front of a house: “Talking Dog For Sale.”
He rings the bell and the owner tells him that the dog is in the backyard. The guy goes into the backyard and sees a black mutt just sitting there.
“You talk?” he asks.
“Of course,” the dog replies.
Through the years I’ve become very acquainted with toilets. Working in school maintenance, I’ve done everything from being the guy who scrubbed and plunged the toilets to fixing, repairing, replacing, and even writing the specs for new construction and new toilets. I’ve also had my share of personal time with toilets. I’ve spent many hours sitting on one, or simply standing in front of one practicing my aim. You might even say that our relationship has been very intimate. When sick, I have hugged my toilet as a cool and close friend and I’ve shared things with my toilet that I don’t share with anyone. My toilet has often seen a side of me that no one else has seen.
Of the beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the hoofed animals, broiled or ground into burgers, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cloven-hoofed animal, plain or with cheese, you may eat, but not in the living room.
When you chew your food, keep your mouth closed until you have swallowed, and do not open it to show your brother or your sister what is within; I say to you, do not…
I feel it’s necessary for me to make a confession. Our many friends know me to be generally a kind-hearted and compassionate kind of person. Yet, what you may not know is that inside me dwells a hatred that is neither Christian or compassionate. At this Christmas season, maybe you can find forgiveness in your hearts or sympathy for my attitude. I must confess to my friends a deep rooted attitude of hatred and a propensity toward violence. Not with everyone, certainly not toward my friends and family. But there is one who has pushed me to the edge and my attitude is evil toward him.