A really bad joke

I would never consider myself a funny person. I have my moments, but most of the time I’m not what you would call funny. I work with funny people, who have comedic timing, which I’m very thankful for. But I’ve never been able to be one of those myself.

Probably because I take a near-morbid interest in bad jokes. Really bad ones. Like this one…

Once upon a time there existed a valley, and in this valley lived a race of people called the Trids. The Trids were a hungry folk, because food did not grow well in the valley.

The mountains surrounding the valley were abundant with food, but were also populated by a race of Giants. Whenever the Trids climbed the mountains looking for food, the Giants would kick them back down into the valley.

One day, after a long time of being very hungry, a Rabbi passed through the valley. The Trids, desperately hungry, thought that maybe the Giants wouldn’t hurt a Rabbi, and asked the Rabbi if he could gather food for the Trids.

The Rabbi agreed and climbed the mountain. He found the fruit and vegetables, and was able to gather food without any trouble. The Giants left him completely alone.

After the Rabbi had brought the food down to the Trids (to much fanfare), the puzzled Rabbi promptly climbed back up the mountain, went to the first Giant he could find, and asked:

“Why do you kick Trids down the mountain when they come looking for food, but you let me gather all I can carry?”

The Giant looked at the Rabbi, smiled, and said:

“Silly Rabbi… kicks are for Trids.”

I told you it was bad.

It also makes no sense out of North America, unless you’ve happened to see the commercials upon which this joke was based.

6 Replies to “A really bad joke”

  1. Well… I’ve got another one for you then… πŸ˜›

    There was once an ordinary abbey in an ordinary little town. In this abbey was an ordinary monk who had a particular affinity for flowers. Over time, this monk became known for his ability to grow flowers — big, gorgeous ones that everyone in the town loved.

    One day, the monk decided to open a small store in town to sell these flowers. He turned the money over to the abbey to distribute to their charities. At first, this was seen as a good thing.

    But the monk’s store became famous. He was so successful, he even thought about leaving the monastery for good to concentrate on the flower business. The abbot was also getting pressure from the religious order, because earning money was something they were supposed to avoid.

    The abbot finally decided he had to do something about the monk’s store, and asked him to close it. The monk refused, citing that the store was helping the poor and homeless. The abbot persisted, sending the monk’s friends to persuade him to change his mind. All were unsuccessful.

    Finally, in a last-ditch bout of desperation, the abbot went to Brother Hugh. Hugh was the biggest monk in the abbey: 6′ 4″, immensely strong, with a mean-looking disposition. He instructed Hugh to convince the monk to return permanently to the abbey.

    The next day, the store closed, the monk took a vow of silence, and was never seen outside the abbey again.

    The moral of the story?

    Only Hugh can prevent florist friars.

    (See what I mean?)

  2. Here’s a cheezy, slightly-less-verbose attempt. πŸ˜‰

    A pirate walks into a bar with a ship’s steering wheel sticking out of his pants.

    The bartender notices and says, “Hey, there’s a steering wheel sticking out of your pants!”

    The pirate says, “Arrrr – it’s drivin’ me nuts!”

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