Ripley's Believe It or Not by Ripley’s Believe It or Not! for November 17, 2021

Here goes for tonight:

A well-known tech firm is acquired by an even larger conglomerate and one of the founders decides its time to retire, so he exercises his stock options and he never needs to work ever again, nor will his children, or their children – you get the picture. But after a few years he become bored and decides he would like to become a gentleman farmer.

He does some research and decides he really doesn’t want to be around the smell of a manure lagoon, nor does he want to subject his future success to the vagaries of the weather, so he decides to become a chicken farmer. It doesn’t take much land and free-range birds have always been his favorite source for eggs, so he buys a small spread in Iowa, and then pops in at the local feed store to buy some baby chicks.

He has a nice little chat with the owner of the feed store, and then orders 100 baby chicks, which the owner is all too happy to sell him, and back he goes to his spread in his very dark blue Levi’s to reap in nature’s bounty.

A week later he’s back at the feed store buying another 100 chicks, which the feed store owner is still quite happy to sell him, and back he goes.

This cycle repeats weekly for 6 weeks, and on his next trip to the feed store, the owner comments to him “You must be having great luck with your chickens. Your flock must be up to about 700 birds by now.”

And the former tech executive replies: “No, not really. Not having any luck at all, as a matter of fact. I don’t know if I’m planting them too deep or too close together, but they just don’t grow.”

Ba-da-bing.

The first time I heard this joke, it was told by a friend of mine to a group that included the CEO of a major agricultural company with a subsidiary that sells hybrid egg laying chickens.

Until next time.

Was Helen “Nellie” Taft where the expression, “Whoa, Nellie” comes from, what with her new fangled driving machine and all?

I’ve said it somewhere before, but lobsters don’t tend to be bright red unless they’re on your plate. President Taft, by the way, wanted to drive a car, but he was too dang big.

It would make sense since that is about the time that cars became popular if you could afford one.

“There’s a hole in the cavern, dear Liza, dear Liza.”

Believe it or not. One copy paste off topic joke lover here stoops down to attacking you with cheap insults when you simply takes a little poke at ‘em plentiful off topic jokes here. The incredible irony is that the one who claims to be the champions and saviours of humour don’t really have any sense of humour at all. After calling you an illiterate fool one day because you made the terrible terrible unforgivable crime of taking only a couple of little pokes at the off topic jokes, he will nicely monologue saying So what’s up, Friend and fellow commenter? on the next day.

And ever since Mrs. Taft all the men have complained about lady drivers.

And the second second she was behind the wheel she was introduced to the bird.

Take care, may unfollowed spelunker Sean “I Shouldn’t Have Eaten That Burrito” Crawlord be with you, and gesundheit.

Liza’s rescuers should’ve used a can opener at the mouth of the cave first before doing the squeezing and crawling part.

Ya know, when I look at lobster, my first question is not how does it taste or how does it chew but how does it…uh…you know…

Oh, wow – now that’s a great White House trivial fact! Thank you so much!!

That was some mighty skinny rescuers to get through a foot wide gap!

They must have used bulimics moving sideways through that space

Long joke! Short on laughs.