...the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it on all occasions their effectual support. Geo. Washington Feb. 22, 1732



Friday, July 8, 2016

Found For Friday

 John owned the town florist. The shop had been in his family for five generations -- and he loved his work. He was a part of people’s lives, from their first prom, to valentines gifts, birthdays, weddings, and even funerals -- he loved his work, and the town loved him. Life for him, his wife Susan, his mom Louis, and their three kids John Jr (JJ), Alexis, and Peter was perfect.
All that changed though when one day, right across the street, a new shop opened: Holy Brothers Holy Flowers. Intrigued, he went over to introduce himself. Turns out two Friars had recently left their order to open a flower store. They were elderly gentleman who had spent decades tending the garden at their Friary, but ultimately wanted to go live in the outside world. John was friendly, and thought to himself “well, I’m sure this town can support two florists,” so we went back to his store and thought nothing more of it.
But as time went on more and more people started going to Holy Flowers. A rumor had gotten started that the flowers were blessed, and that you’d get good luck by going there. Sales dropped for John, money got tight, and he started to accrue debt. Finally, nobody came into his store at all any more.
One day, out of desperation, he went across the street to talk to the friars. He said “guys, I need you to move your store. My family has owned this place for five generations and I’m going to lose it.” The friars told him to fuck off.
He went home and told his wife. Thinking a womans touch might help, she went to talk to the friars. “My family is going to lose our home, please move to the next town over.” She was again told to fuck off.
In a moment of despair, they sent their children to go plead their case. JJ, Alexis, and Peter went to see the Friars. “Please sirs, or parents are losing everything, you have to help us out.” They too were told to fuck off.
Next, John’s mother Louis, a kindly, persuasive, but tough woman went to talk to them. She was told to fuck off.
Sitting in his dusty empty store John contemplated his failings while he killed a bottle of cheap whiskey. His store, his future, he’s lost all of it. Sitting in a stupor, a thought drifted into his mind. He remembered an old family – acquaintance. He picked up the phone and called the man, a huge (probably former felon) guy named Hugh. Nobody knew exactly what Hugh did, but he wasn’t a good guy. John’s dad had done Hugh a favor once so they were in his good graces, but this was a man to be respected and feared.
John explained the situation to Hugh over the phone, who simply said “I’ll deal with it” and hung up the phone.
Two days later Holy Flowers closed. No explanation, no closing sale, the just shut their doors, drove out of town as fast as they could, leaving everything behind. Customers started coming back to John, and he lived happily ever after.
The moral of the story? Hugh, and only Hugh, can prevent florist friars


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One turns to the other and says, 'Dam!'


A vulture carrying two dead raccoons boards an airplane. The stewardess looks at him and says,  I'm sorry, sir, only one carrion allowed per passenger.'


If you jumped off the bridge in Paris, you'd be in Seine.


When cannibals ate a missionary, they got a taste of religion.


In a democracy it's your vote that counts. In feudalism it's your count that votes.


A backward poet writes inverse.


The soldier who survived mustard gas and
pepper spray is now a seasoned veteran..


The midget fortune-teller who escaped from prison
was a small medium at large.


A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said: 'Keep off the Grass.'


I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.

Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other: 'You stay here; I'll go on a head.






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