Farmer Jokes



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Ha! I was thinking a joke thread would be good.

An old farmer sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. As he sat sipping his drink, a young woman sat down next to him. She turned to the farmer and asked, "Are you a real farmer?"
He replied, "Well, yes - I guess I am... I've spent my whole life, breaking colts, working cows, going to rodeos, fixing fences, pulling calves, planting crops, bailing hay, doctoring calves, harvesting crops, cleaning my barn, fixing flats, working on tractors, and feeding my dogs, so I guess I am a REAL farmer."

Then he added, "What are you?".

She said, "I'm a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about women. As soon as I get up in the morning, I think about women. When I shower, I think about women. When I watch TV, I think about women. I even think about women when I eat. It seems that everything makes me think of women."

The two sat sipping their drinks in silence. Once the woman finished her drink she left.

A little while later, a man sat down on the other side of the old farmer and asked, "Are you a real farmer?"
He replied, "Well, I always thought I was, but I just found out I'm a lesbian."
An old cowboy was sitting at the bar and said , "I sent most of my money on women and whiskey.... the rest of it I just wasted."
Know why farmers don't wear tennis shoes? .....'Cause the seed corn companies don't give 'em away. :p

You can always tell a just can't tell him much! ;)
You can pretend this one is about farmers...

Joe and John were identical twins. Joe owned an old dilapidated boat and kept pretty much to himself. One day he rented out his boat to a group of out-of-staters who ended up sinking it. He spent all day trying to salvage as much stuff as he could from the sunken vessel and was out of touch all that day and most of the evening. Unbeknownst to him, his brother John's wife had died suddenly in his absence.
When he got back on shore he went into town to pick up a few things at the grocery. A kind old woman there mistook him for John and said, "I'm so sorry for your loss. You must feel terrible."

Joe, thinking she was talking about his boat said, "Hell no! Fact is I'm sort of glad to be rid of her. She was a rotten old thing from the beginning. Her bottom was all shriveled up and she smelled like old dead fish. She was always holding water. She had a bad crack in the back and a pretty big hole in the front too. Every time I used her, her hole got bigger and she leaked like crazy."

"I guess what finally finished her off was when I rented her to those four guys looking for a good time. I warned them that she wasn't very good and that she smelled bad. But they wanted her anyway. The dam fools tried to get in her all at one time and she split right up the middle."

The old woman fainted.
A lawyer was late for an appointment at his office and decided to run a stop sign. As luck would have it, a farmer was proceeding through on his tractor at that very moment, and there was a tremendous crash! Fortunately, no one was hurt.
The lawyer decided to go on the offense and jumped out of his car.
"You idiot!" he yelled. "Why weren't you paying attention? Now I'm gonna be late for my appointment. You better believe you're gonna regret this day!"
The farmer calmly surveyed the scene. "Look, young fella, you're all worked up. Neither one of us is hurt -- it's just our rides that are a little banged up," he said. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a hip flask and offered it to the lawyer. "Here, why don't you take a slug of this whiskey. It'll help you calm down."
After a moment, the lawyer accepted and took a deep drink. A bit later, he tipped up the flask and took another swig. Then he returned it to the farmer, who closed the flask and put it away.
"Don't you want any yourself?" asked the lawyer.
"Not just yet," answered the farmer. "I'll wait until after the police leave."
A farmer went out one day and bought a brand new stud rooster for his chicken coop.
The new rooster struts over to the old rooster and says, "OK old fart, time for you to retire."
The old rooster replies, "Come on, surely you cannot handle ALL of these chickens. Look what it has done to me. Can't you just let me have the two old hens over in the corner?"
The young rooster says, "Beat it: You are washed up and I am taking over."
The old rooster says, "I tell you what, young stud. I will race you around the farmhouse. Whoever wins gets the exclusive domain over the entire chicken coop."
The young rooster laughs. "You know you don't stand a chance, old man. So, just to be fair, I will give you a head start."
The old rooster takes off running.
About 15 seconds later the young rooster takes off running after him.
They round the front porch of the farmhouse and the young rooster has closed the gap.
He is only about 5 feet behind the old rooster and gaining fast.
The farmer, meanwhile, is sitting in his usual spot on the front porch when he sees the roosters running by.
He grabs his shotgun and - BOOM he blows the young rooster to bits.
The farmer sadly shakes his head and says, "Darn ..... third gay rooster I bought this month."
Moral of this story ....
Don't mess with the OLD FARTS - age, skill, and treachery will always overcome youth and arrogance!
Memes anyone?

Hay making is going on now:

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Citiots mowing their lawns:




Gotta watch the markets:

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Names have been removed to protect the stupid!

I had this idea that I was going to rope a deer, put it in a stall, sweet feed it on corn for a few weeks, then butcher it and eat it. Yum! Corn-fed venison. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer.

Since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not have much fear of me (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck four feet away) it should not be difficult to rope one, toss a bag over its head to calm it down, then hog-tie it and transport it home.

I filled the cattle feeder and hid behind it with my rope. The cattle, having seen a roping or two before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it.

After 20 minutes, my deer showed up, 3 of them. I picked a likely looking one, stepped out, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell she was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation.

I took a step toward it. It took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope, and received an education. The first thing I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, it is spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.

That deer EXPLODED.

The second thing I learned is that, pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range, I could fight down with some dignity. A deer? No chance.

That thing ran and bucked, it twisted and pulled. There was no controlling that deer, and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer firmly attached to a rope was not such a good idea. The only upside is that they do not have much stamina.

A brief ten minutes later it was tired, and not as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head.

At that point, I had lost my appetite for corn-fed venison. I hated the thing, and would hazard a guess that the feeling was mutual. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope. But if I let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painful somewhere.

Despite the gash in my head, and several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer's pell-mell flight by bracing my head against large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn't want the deer to suffer a slow death.

I managed to get it lined up between my truck and the feeder, a little trap I had set beforehand, like a squeeze chute. I backed it in there, and I started moving forward to get my rope back.

Did you know that deer bite? They do!

I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite, so I was very surprised when I reached up there to grab hold of that rope, and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like a horse, it does not just bite and let go. A deer bites and shakes its head, like a pit bull. They bite HARD and won't let go. It hurts!

The proper reaction when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and wrenching away. My method was ineffective. It felt like that deer bit and shook me for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds

I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now) tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the bejesus out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose. That was when I learned my final lesson in deer behavior for the day.

Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up and strike at head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp. I learned long ago that when a horse strikes at you with its hooves and you can't get away, the best thing to do is make a loud noise and move aggressively towards the animal. This will cause it to back down a bit, so you can make your escape.

This was not a horse. This was a deer. Obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a woman and turned to run.

The reason we have been taught NOT to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer are not so different from horses after all, other than being twice as strong and three times as evil. The second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down.

When a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately depart. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What it does instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you, while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.

I finally managed to crawl under the truck, and the deer went away. Now I know why people go deer hunting with a rifle and a scope. It's so they can be somewhat equal to the prey.

I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'You're definitely going to Shit yourself' chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.

Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for the market, a local Walmart grocery store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.

Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.

The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly
woman turned into it.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate.

I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. Mistake.

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.

Suddenly things were no longer funny. It was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Sonavabitch' and quickly left.

Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.'

That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the manager.

I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.

Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store.
Twin brothers farmed together. One of them went over and helped the neighbor with chores. His wife gave him two pies in payment for the help.

Two days later, the neighbor's wife saw one of the twin brothers in the grocery store. She was not sure which one she was talking to, but asked him how the pies tasted.

He said, 'Pies? My brother brought one home and we split it for supper. . He must have eaten the other pie on the drive home."

Same twin brothers, Both wanted to farm, but they hold had enough farm work for one, so one of them took a job. They decided to alternate days going to work and did not tell the boss. Neither one told the other what he had been working on the previous day. One or both soon got fired.

same twin brothers often went to MacDonalds. "One of them said to the store manager, These shakes are awfully small. I could drink ten of them." The manager says that if you can drink ten of them, you can have them at no charge. Yup, he drank ten of them. His brother was driving home and had to stop the car, since his twin was not feeling so good. He could not do chores for three days.

all true stories, same brothers.

They had a house full of family antiques and lots of siblings. They decided to build anew farm house and just pushed everything in the hole so the siblings would not fight over family keepsakes.
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Were these guys related to the fellow in MOBuck's barrel of gly on the trunk lid story, it sure sounds like they could be!?!
Were these guys related to the fellow in MOBuck's barrel of gly on the trunk lid story, it sure sounds like they could be!?!

Supper time, one would read the paper out loud while the other cooks to save time. After meals, rinse your plate and turn it upside down on the table to keep the flies off of it.

All normal folks in my part of the world!

Not realated to MoBucks' relatives in that other photo. These guys had hundreds of acres of prime ag land and a herd of registered cows.
Careful!........He lives dam close to Little Rock. He could be one of your kin folk for all we know!
Do you mean that you are my long lost cousin? Is that on My Mom's or My Dad's side?

.. just a minute here, Mom and Dad are on the same side...
Same twin bros. As a young vet I went out to look at a sick cow. There were so many howling coon hounds in the barn that I could not hear the cow's stomach with my stethoscope. I asked them if they could get the coon hounds out of the barn. One of them says, "Those coonhounds are worth more than you are!" The coonhounds stayed in the barn.
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Same twin bros. As a young vet I went out to look at a sick cow. There were so many howling coon hounds in the barn that I could not hear the cow's stomach with my stethoscope. I asked them if they could get the coon hounds out of the barn. One of them says, "Thos coonhounds are worth more than you are!" The coonhounds stayed in the barn.

They once showed me a stack of uncashed milk checks they had in the milk house that was over 1/2 inch thick. Near the end of the year, the creamery called and said you have to get those checks cashed as they are making the job difficult for the accountant.
They once showed me a stack of uncashed milk checks they had in the milk house that was over 1/2 inch thick. Near the end of the year, the creamery called and said you have to get those checks cashed as they are making the job difficult for the accountant.
Two of us young vets went out there as they had an ornery 800 pound heifer with a hernia that needed surgery. We were both glad we had these two big twin brothers that owned the farm to help us.

We needed to tranquilize her and roll her on her back for surgery. We got out there, got her roped and a dose of tranquilizer in her.

One of the twin brothers says, "It's time for the Flintstones" and they headed for the house. Didn't see them again!