An old hillbilly farmer had a wife who nagged him unmercifully. From morning till night (and sometimes later), she was always complaining about something. The only time he got any relief was when he was out plowing with his old mule. He tried to plow a lot.
One day, when he was out plowing, his wife brought him lunch in the field. He drove the old mule into the shade, sat down on a stump, and began to eat his lunch. Immediately, his wife began haranguing him again. Complain, nag, nag; it just went on and on.
All of a sudden, the old mule lashed out with both hind feet; caught her smack in the back of the head. Killed her dead on the spot.
At the funeral several days later, the minister noticed something rather odd. When a woman mourner would approach the old farmer, he would listen for a minute, then nod his head in agreement; but when a man mourner approached him, he would listen for a minute, then shake his head in disagreement. This was so consistent, the minister decided to ask the old farmer about it.
So after the funeral, the minister spoke to the old farmer, and asked him why he nodded his head and agreed with the women, but always shook his head and disagreed with all the men.
The old farmer said:
"Well, the women would come up and say something about how nice my wife looked, or how pretty her dress was, so I'd nod my head in agreement."
"And what about the men?" the minister asked.
"They all wanted to know if the mule was for sale."
A young man was hitchhiking down south and a farmer driving an old pickup truck stopped to give him a lift.
As they were driving, the farmer started bragging about how good the local moonshine whiskey was. The young man told the farmer that he didn’t drink very much, and that moonshine would probably be too strong for his tastes.
“Nonsense!” said the farmer. “You gotta try some.” He fished around behind him and finally produced a small jug. “Here,” he said, handing the jar to the lad. “Take a drink!”
“Oh, no thanks,” said the young man. “I really don’t think I care for any.”
“No, I insist,” pressed the farmer. “Have some.”
“No, thanks - really,” said the young man.
The farmer wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He stopped the truck and grabbed his shotgun from the rack in back. He pointed the gun at the lad and roared, “I said, take a drink!”
“Okay! Okay!” said the young man. He took a few swallows and instantly realized just how powerful the stuff was. His throat muscles tightened, his eyes watered, and he made a choking sound.
“What do you think of it?” asked the farmer. “Good, ain’t it?”
“Yeah,” gasped the lad, afraid he would be forced to drink more if he disagreed, “I guess so.”
Then the farmer handed the young man the shotgun and grinned. “Here! Now, you hold the gun on me and make me drink some!”
Cowboy Joe was telling his fellow cowboys, back on the ranch, about his first visit to a big-city church.
"When I got there, they had me park my old truck in the corral," Joe began.
"You mean the parking lot," interrupted Charlie, a more worldly fellow.
"I walked up the trail to the gate," Joe continued.
"The sidewalk to the door," Charlie corrected him.
"Inside the door, I was met by this dude," Joe went on.
"That would be the usher," Charlie explained.
"Well, the usher led me down the chute," Joe said.
"You mean the aisle," Charlie said.
"Then he led me to a stall and told me to sit there," Joe continued.
"Pew," Charlie retorted.
"Yeah," recalled Joe. "That's what that pretty lady said when I sat down beside her."
Two brothers, Ralph and Dexter, had the same routine every Sunday morning. They would each grab a 12 pack of their favorite brew and head out for a day of hunting.
They had their special field that they went to every time, but for the past few weeks their spot was really slow. They sat in their field for hours without seeing a single bird. They finished their beers and were getting very bored. So they finally decided that it was time to find a new spot.
So Ralph and Dexter stumbled through the fields laughing and carrying on until they saw this field behind an old farmhouse just full of geese. The brothers new that they would have to get permission to hunt on this farmer's land so they used paper, rock, scissors to decide who would be the one to ask.
Dexter lost and headed up to the house to ask, while Ralph waited behind. When Dexter got up to the house the farmer said it was fine for the boys to hunt, but he had a favor to ask of Dexter before they started hunting. The farmer said,
"My prize mare is very ill and must be put down and I don't have the heart to do it. Since you are here do you think that you could do the job for me?"
For the opportunity to hunt in the field Dexter said that it would be no problem. So he thanked the farmer and headed to the barn.
Ralph came running behind Dexter to see what the farmer had said. Dexter had a pretty good buzz going and thought that he would play a joke on his young, naive little brother and said,
"That farmer won't let us hunt in his field so I'm gonna teach him a lesson."
"What are ya gonna do Dexter?" asked Ralph.
"I'm gonna shoot one of his horses.", Dexter replied.
So Dexter walked into the barn, took aim and "ВАNG", shot the horse.
Suddenly Dexter hears a loud "ВАNG! ВАNG!
"Let's get out of here Dexter!" Ralph Screams. "I just shot two more!"
Two brothers were raised on a farm, one brother moved to town. Every year, the city brother would come out to visit the farmer brother. Every time he came out, the farmer brother was complaining about his crops. It was too hot or too cold, too wet or too dry, prices were low, the crops looked bad. As the city brother was driving out one year, he noticed the crops looking great. He had the radio on and crops were hitting an all time high. As he got out to the farm, here was the farmer brother sitting in a rocking chair with a grumpy looking on his face. The city brother asked why he was in a bad mood. The crops looked great, the right amount of rain, temp., and prices were setting records highs. The farmer brother said, you know what a crop like this takes out of the soil?