Farmer Brown got into his John Deere Tractor and drove over to the neighbors ranch. He knocked on their door. Billy, age nine, answered.
“Hi Billy,” Farmer Brown peered past the child, into the house. “Need to speak to yer Dad.”
“He ain’t here. He’s gone to town.”
“Then let me talk to your Ma.”
“She ain’t here neither.”
Farmer Brown grimaced, pulled his cowboy hat off and wiped his sweaty forehead. Then he jammed his hat back on.
“Well, what about your brother, Sam?”
“He went with Ma and Pa.”
Farmer Brown stood there for a few seconds, shifting from one foot to the other, muttering.
“Can I help you?” Billy asked. “If you’re a wantin’ to borrow some tools or somethin’, I know where most things are… Or I could take a message fer my Pa.”
“Well, it’s difficult,” Farmer Brown said, locking eyes with Billy, “I really need to talk to yer Dad about your brother getting my daughter, Betty Lou, pregnant.”
Billy thought for a second.
“You’d have to speak to Pa about that. But if it helps any, Pa charges $500 for the bulls and $40 for the hog, but I just plain don’t know how much he gets for Sam.”
Okay… Here’s another quick one!
A weekend hunter killed a deer, cleaned it and took it home to his wife to cook for dinner. Both he and his wife decided they wouldn’t tell the kids what kind of meat it was, but would give them clues and let them guess. The dad started with, “Well it’s what Mommy calls me sometimes.” The little girl screamed to her brother, “Don’t eat it. Its an asshole!”