|The Somewhat Funniest Newspaper Column
in Rural USA
By Clet Litter as told to Bob Simpson
Atheist takes dip in church baptismal
The worst thing that coulda ever happened just occurred in church this morning. A confirmed
atheist, husband of one of the upstanding church ladies, took a long dip in the baptismal font. We all
knew it was gonna happen cause the whole congregation has been praying for it for twenty years,
A few of us backsliding men got together later for a prayer meeting. We called upon the
reasonableness side of a higher force during our secret ceremony that this new born-again-no-longer-
a-heathen feller would lose the spirit and become a backslider, like the rest of us.
We’re upset cause this newcomer has ruined it for the other men in the congregation. Up til now,
we skip every other Sunday without too much argument from our wives. Now, we all have to suffer.
Next Sunday morning, I can hear it. “Elmira Slinger’s husband found the Lord. Butch Slinger is gonna
be sitting right in front of Preacher, hanging on every word. Go on, get dressed. If he can do it, then you
can do it too.”
The boys down at the barbershop have been working on a new socially irresponsible project:
Pick Up lines from old reprobates. We only got one so far, but it’s a good start. “Would you like a
vitamin and a glass of wine with your pudding pop?”
Mean ol Harley Spears was in town at Smartins Grocery picking up monthly supplies. The buckboard
was all loaded up and he was waiting on his teenage son. Jingles come out of the store with his right hand
shoved deep into a two-pound bag of tater chips.
Harley started steaming when he saw them chips. He yelled at his boy, “You got a lot of nerve
buying that junk food. Son, do you think food stamps grow on trees?”
Donald Doughnuts has a new slogan on their 800-pound doughnut-shaped sign, What happens
in Donald’s, stays in Donald’s. Try our new discrete tunnel drive-thru stealth window.
Mumford Pickens has some thoughts on the history of medical care. “When you’re sick, you look to
get help from a feller or gal from the AMA, The American Medical Association. Before there were doctors,
you called on A MA to take care of you.”
You can contact Clet Litter at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Just click on my e-mail address below and ask for the weekly column to be delivered to you each week.
No one will ever know that you read this kind of stuff.