In the traffic court of a large city, a woman was brought before a rather tired-looking judge to answer for a ticket she’d received for running a red light. She informed the judge that she was a schoolteacher and requested an immediate dismissal of her case so she could get to school on time.
The judge brightened up immediately. “I’ve waited for years to have a schoolteacher in this court,” he said. “Now sit down at that table, and write ‘I drove through a red light’ five hundred times.”
14 Comments | 
circus of life | Tagged: chuckles, karmageddon, school daze | 
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Posted by bluebird of bitterness
10 Comments | simple pleasures | Tagged: double takes | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
In honor of the birthday of American poet Sara Teasdale (1884-1933), here is a choral setting of her poem “Only in Sleep.”
Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child,
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild.
Only in sleep Time is forgotten—
What may have come to them, who can know?
Yet we played last night as long ago,
And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair.
The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces,
I met their eyes and found them mild—
Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder,
And for them am I too a child?
6 Comments | comfort & joy, musical offerings | Tagged: Choir of Trinity College Cambridge, Eriks Esenvalds, Sara Teasdale | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
7 Comments | animal crackers | Tagged: birds | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
From The Babylon Bee.
TUCSON, AZ—Wife and mother Rachel Peterson returned home Sunday night from her church’s annual women’s retreat to find a giant, smoking crater where her home once stood, sources confirmed.
According to sources, Peterson had left for the church-sponsored weekend in the mountains Friday afternoon, leaving her husband in charge of watching the house and kids.
“I only requested two things—keep the kids alive, and don’t burn the house down,” an exasperated Peterson reportedly said to her husband, who sat on a charred tree stump in the blackened front yard with their three children. “Just two things.”
“For goodness sake, I was only gone for like 48 hours,” she added.
Sources also confirmed the children had subsisted on a diet of microwaved pizzas and Netflix shows until the house exploded sometime on Sunday.
At publishing time, Peterson had begun rebuilding the house on her own using several creative ideas found on Pinterest.
14 Comments | circus of life | Tagged: Babylon Bee, marriage, Mars & Venus | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
11 Comments | circus of life | Tagged: Sunday funnies | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
In honor of the birthday of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), here is a choral setting of his poem “Crossing the Bar.”
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
16 Comments | comfort & joy, musical offerings | Tagged: Alfred Tennyson, Southampton University Chamber Choir | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
THE BLUEBIRD OF BITTERNESS
Home sweet home
Bob's sister Hannah
Bob's sister Ada
Bob's sister Eve
Bob's sister Nan
Bob's brother Otto
A baby picture of Bob and his siblings (clockwise from upper left: Otto, Eve, Hannah, Ada, Bob, and Nan)
Bob's childhood home
Bob's mom and dad
Bob in his youth
Bob's Uncle Ralph and Aunt Edna
Bob's cousin Archibald
Bob's stepbrother Herbie (who really needs to quit smoking)
Bob's cousin Chester
Bob's Great Uncle Norbert and Great Aunt Phyllis
Bob's cousin Saffron (who will do anything for a drink)
Bob's sister-in-law Sybil
Bob's cousin Thorndike
Bob's brother-in-law Vinnie
Bob's cousin Orville, who loves the Green Bay Packers
Bob's nieces Lulu and Bitsy, the biker chicks
Bob's stepsister Eloise, with the twins, Rudy and Trudy
Bob's Uncle Henry and Aunt Rowena
Bob's niece Esmerelda (who likes to live dangerously)
Bob's Great Uncle Arthur up in Saskatchewan
Bob's cousin Louie, the grackle of grumpiness
Bob's nephew Virgil, who loves sports
Miss Screech, Bob's journalism teacher
Bob's second cousin Schlomo in Brooklyn
Bob's Uncle Seymour and Aunt Bernice
Bob's nephew Baxter
Nigel, Bob's pen pal in New Zealand
Bob's sister-in-law Delphine, who volunteers at the animal shelter
Percy the Pickpocket, Bob's third cousin once removed (the relative no one likes to talk about... every family has one)
The Bluebird of Happiness (no relation to Bob)
A pair of boobies (also no relation to Bob, but included for readers who desire titillation)
A pair of tits (in case the boobies were insufficiently titillating)
Bluebird Bitter™, the beer they named for Bob
