One night, the Potato family sat down to dinner--Mother Potato and her
three daughters. Midway through the meal, the eldest daughter spoke
up. "Mother Potato?" she said. "I have an annoucement to make. "
"And what might that be?" said Mother, seeing the obvious excitement in her eldest daughter's eyes.
"Well," replied the daughter, with a proud sheepish grin, "I'm getting married!"
The other daughters squealed with surprise as Mother Potato exclaimed, "Married! That's wonderful! And who are you marrying, Eldest daughter?"
"I'm marrying a Russet!"
"A Russet!" replied Mother Potato with pride. "Oh, a Russet is a fine tater, a fine tater indeed!"
As the family shared in the eldest daughter's joy, the middle daughter
spoke up. "Mother? I, too, have and announcement."
"And what might that be?" encouraged Mother Potato.
Not knowing quite how to begin, the middle daughter paused, then said with conviction, "I too, am getting married!"
You, too!" Mother Potato said with joy. "That's wonderful! Twice the good news in one evening! And who are you marrying, Middle daughter?"
"I'm marrying an Idaho!" beamed the middle daughter.
"An Idaho!" said Mother Potato with joy. "Oh, an Idaho is a fine tater, a fine tater indeed!"
One again, the room came alive with laughter and excited plans for the future, when the youngest Potato daughter interrupted. "Mother? Mother Potato? Um, I, too, have an announcement to make."
"Yes?" said Mother Potato with great anticipation.
"Well," began the youngest Potato daughter with the same sheepish grin as her eldest sister before her, "I hope this doesn't come as a shock to you, but I am getting married, as well!"
"Really?" said Mother Potato with sincere excitement. "All of my lovely daughters married! What wonderful news! And who, pray tell, are you marrying, Youngest daughter?"
"I'm marrying Dan Rather!"
"Dan Rather?!" Mother Potato scowled suddenly. "But he's just a common tater!"
The Convent of St. Elias PRILEP, Macedonia (AP)
Outside a small Macedonian village close to the border between Greece and strife-torn Yugoslavia, a lone Catholic nun keeps a quiet watch over a silent convent. She is the last caretaker of the site of significant historical developments spanning more than 2,000 years. When Sister Maria Cyrilla of the Order of the Perpetual Watch dies, the convent of St. Elias will be closed by the Eastern Orthodox Patriarch of Macedonia.
However, that isn't likely to happen soon as Sister Maria, 53, enjoys excellent health. By her own estimate, she walks 10 miles daily about the grounds of the convent, which once served as a base for the army of Attila the Hun. In more ancient times, a Greek temple to Eros, the god of love, occupied the hilltop site.
Historians say that Attila took over the old temple in 439 A.D. and used it as a base for his marauding army. The Huns are believed to have first collected and then destroyed a large gathering of Greek legal writs at the site. It is believed that Attila wanted to study the Greek legal system and had the writs and other documents brought to the temple. Scholars differ on why he had the valuable documents destroyed - either because he was barely literate and couldn't read them, or because they provided evidence of democratic government that did not square with his own notion of rule by an all-powerful tyrant.
When the Greek church took over the site in the 15th Century and the convent was built, church leaders ordered the pagan statue of Eros destroyed, so another ancient Greek treasure was lost. Today, there is only the lone sister, watching over the old Hun base, amidst the strife of war torn Yugoslavia, and when she goes, that will be it.
Thus, that's how it ends, with no Huns, no writs, no Eros, and nun left on base.
There once was a famous pitcher for the Milwaukee Brewers named Mel Famie. He was a great relief pitcher, a 0.45 ERA, and averaged 1.6 SO's per inn ing. He did have one flaw though, he liked to sneak a six pack or two into the bullpen during games.
Setting the stage for an exciting season finish, in the final stretch to the playoffs, the race was tight. It was the last game of the season, and they were tied with the Yankees for the division lead.
It is the bottom of the ninth inning the game is tied at 0-0. Mel had started on his beer at the seventh inning, figuring that he wouldn't be used. One, two, three, four, the cans go by. By now, Mel is feeling a bit heated. The starting pitcher suddenly gets a cramp in his arm and can't continue. The coach calls Mel to the mound to relieve him.
Mel quickly stuffs his beer can into his back pocket, and gets out there. His first batter comes up...BALL ONE! The ump yells. Soon the count is full, and sure enough, Mel loses him. The next batter comes up...Mel has him at 0-2, but then throws four straight balls and walks him too. The coach wants to pull him, but Mel snows him into leaving him in. Mel strikes out the next batter with three straight fastballs.
So, Mel feels confident and sneaks the beer out of his pocket, and sucks the whole thing down, and slyly drops the can behind the mound. He faces his next batter...and can barely see the plate. He throws a ball just a bit outside, and then a strike. Then three more balls in a row. Now the bases are loaded, and only one out, but Mel somehow convinces the coach he can throw a double play ball. He gets the count to 2-2, then 3-2, and then he throws a curveball wide for ball four, walking in the winning run.
One of the Yankees quickly runs out behind the mound and picks up the discarded beer can. One of his teammates says "What on earth do you want that thing for?"
To which he replies, "Don't you know? This is the beer that made Mel Famie walk us!
There once was a catcher for the California Angels named Tom Torre. He was a good catcher, he could stop any wild pitch from getting through, and throw out even somebody as fast as Ricky Henderson without any effort.
Tom's only downfall was that he was deathly afraid of getting run into at the plate when a runner was coming home. Try as he may, he would jump out of the way just before the runner got there.
Well, here the Angels are, FINALLY in the World Series. It's the seventh game, and the bottom of the ninth inning. There's one out, and runners at first and second base. The Angels are ahead of the Dodgers 3-2, and tasting the victory champagne already. All they need is a double play ball and it is all over...they are the champs!
Just then, the pitcher hangs a slow curve ball over the plate. SMACK!!! Goes the ball against the bat, as it heads out to the right field wall. One run scores...and they wave the second runner around third.
It's going to be close...the throw comes from right and Tom catches it! There he is, just waiting for the runner, waiting to tag him out...and just as the runner gets there, he jumps out of the way, and the Angels lose to the Dodgers...the ultimate disgrace.
After the game, the coach was being interviewed. He was really bitter, and mad. The reporter asked "Well coach how do you plan to change your lineup next year to try to win it all next year?"
The coach snapped "Well, the first thing I'm going to do is get rid
of that chicken catcher Torre!"
These three strings are walking along, dying of thirst in the middle of Death Valley. After a long, long trek. They come to a bar.
"Boy, this is just in time...I can't go any farther." So he walks into the bar and orders a drink.
"Can't you read the sign there? We don't serve no strings here" bellows the bartender.
"But I'm going to die of thirst" protests the string.
With that the bartender picks him up, and throws him out into the street.
One of his buddies says "I'll disguise myself as a rope and go in to get us a drink." So, in he goes.
"Hey, I thought I told your friend that we don't serve your kind here. Now get out that door before I stomp on you!" So he quickly retreats out the door.
Finally the last string says "Hey, I've got an idea...I'll tie myself up like a pretzel, and frizzle out my ends, so he won't recognize me." So in he goes into the bar. He gets up to the bar and orders a drink.
The bartender eyes him a little susspiciously. "Hey, aren't you one of those strings I told to get out of here?"
To which the string answered "No, I'm a frayed knot."