So, so sad... :(

Poststructural Pub
1

Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs.
Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew just how much he was kneaded.

Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.


:sniffle: :sniffle: :sniffle: :sniffle: :sniffle: :sniffle:

If this made you smile for even a brief second, please rise to the occasion and take time to pass it on and share that smile with someone else who may be having a crumby day and kneads it.

2

:laughing:

Redwolf

3

Gee, either the Pillsbury dough boy has died and risen a dozen times more than Jesus, or this is one of those jokes that keeps coming back on you.

Here’s another old chestnut:

A big city lawyer went duck hunting out in the country. He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer’s field on the other side of a fence. As the lawyer was climbing over the fence, an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked what he was doing.

The litigator responded, “I shot a duck and it fell in this field, and I’m just going over to retrieve it.”

The old farmer replied, “This is my property, and you are not coming over.”

The indignant lawyer said, “Listen, I’m one of the best trial attorneys in the country, and if you don’t let me get that duck, I’ll sue you and take everything you own.”

The old farmer smiled and said, “Apparently, you don’t know how we settle disputes in these parts. We settle small disagreements like this with the ‘Three Kick Rule’.”

The lawyer asked, “What’s the ‘Three Kick Rule’?”

The farmer replied, “Well, because the dispute occurs on my land, first I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on back and forth until someone gives up.”

The attorney quickly thought about this rule and decided that he could easily take the old codger. So he agreed to abide by the local custom.

The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the attorney. The lawyer grinned at the farmer’s apparent weakness.

The farmer’s first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel toed work boot into the lawyer’s groin and dropped him to his knees. The second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer’s last meal gushing from his mouth.

The barrister was on all fours when the farmer’s third kick to his rear-end sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie.

The lawyer summoned every bit of his will and managed to get to his feet. Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said, “Okay, you old coot. Now it’s my turn.”

The old farmer smiled and said, “Naw, I give up. You can have the duck.”

djm

4

Uncle Ben and Condaleeza Rice couldn’t make it. They were busy “reconstituting.” (One needs a strong constitution for these trying moments. sigh.) They send their sympathies…

5

:laughing: :laughing: :laughing:

Never fails, every time I hear or read the doughboy jokes, I wet 'em.

6

So, was this the same Pillsbury Doughboy that was in Europe in the First World War? :confused:

7

That was his father. His father was poked in the belly by the dread Boche which made his liverwurst.