Filler

Recently, I’ve been really busy between increased December work hours at Lee Valley Tools Ltd., the big push to complete the outstanding orders of hollow and round planes for my other company, Time Warp Tool Works, and other top-secret Christmas stuff.  Until today, my shop was an absolute mess with all the projects in the works.  I literally had things buried under three other things.

I’m quite sure that I’m not the only one feeling the pressure and stresses of being busy and I find that humour is a great way of coping.  How about a joke?  Here’s my favourite:

What did the frustrated woodworker say when he couldn’t get the joint to fit?

Bad Dovetail BW

Ah, screw it!

Got a good joke that makes you smile every time?  Tell me in the comments section.

13 thoughts on “Filler

      • Two guys are fishing in a creek when a poisonous snake swims into one of the guys waders and bites him right on the tip of his you know what. They both rush onto the banks and the other guy dials 911 on his cell phone. He tells the poison control center that his friend was bitten by a snake, so the operator tells him he needs to suck out the poison and get him to a hospital ASAP.
        He hangs up the cell phone and his friend screams, “What did they tell you!! What should we do?!” He kneels down next to his friend, puts his hand on his shoulder, and says “Dude, you’re gonna die..”

    • Good morning Dan,

      I always prefer to tell jokes in person. I guess could have made a short video of myself telling the joke, but I still wouldn’t get to experience your reactions.

      Chris

  1. Did you here about the guy at the sawmill who had the whole left side of his body cut off?

    Don’t worry, he’s all right.

    Did you hear about the woodworker who died when he fell into a vat of varnish? It was a terrible end, but a beautiful finish

    Not a joke you tell, but rather, one you play.

    You look wistfully into the blue sky and say “hey! dad will be on the plane by now”
    Your companion will invariably ask “where’s he going?”
    You respond “nowhere – he’s taking half an inch off the bottom of the door”

    Some men in a pickup truck drove into a lumberyard.

    One of the men walked in the office and said, “We need some four-by-twos.”

    The clerk asked, “You mean two-by-fours, don’t you?”

    The man said, “I’ll go check,” and went back to the truck.

    He returned and said, “Yeah, I meant two-by-four.”

    “All right. How long do you need them?” asked the clerk,

    The customer paused for a minute and said, “I’d better go check.”

    After a while, the customer returned to the office and said, “A long time. We’re gonna build a house.”

    Thats all I got ;)

  2. I have one more. A mentor of mine who died a few years ago wrote this on his blog. He was a great wood worker and had a way with tall tales. I dont think he would mind me re-posting this.
    ~
    One evening, years ago, I was walking down the street when a guy, leaning against a dimly lit telephone pole with his hat pulled low across his face whispered “psssst, hey buddy, want to try something really special?” I asked if he was speaking to me and he said “yes, You look down. This stuff will put a smile on your face.” He held up a small, brown object and waved it in front of my face. In the light of the overhead utility lamp I could see that what he was holding was a beautiful, glistening cathedral grain piece of wood. I tried to ignore him and keep walking but as I did I heard the words that would forever haunt my sleepless nights… “First board foot is free. Just try it. Promise you won’t be sorry.”

    Well, I’m a woodworker. And as we all know, there is one word that weakens the knees of even the best of us. That word, of course, is “free.” I turned, grabbed the object from his hands and ran, ran as fast from that sordid place as my feet would take me. I ran for what seemed like hours, streams of sweat flowing down my forehead. Ran in a haze of guilt and shame until, not really knowing how I got there, there I was, standing in the middle of my workshop.

    I sat down, laying the board gingerly on my workbench. Studying it, eyeing it, knowing that if I tore into that wicked thing, there may be no going back. No stopping me from a life of darkness (walnut’s a dark wood, get it?). Finally, as if in a trance, I calmly got up and collected the paraphenalia I would need to try this strange and beautiful substance.

    Goggles, check… filter mask, check… sharp cutting tools, check. It all seemed to easy. And all the while a voice inside my head kept saying “stop, don’t do this! There’s so much more to woodworking!” I slowly lowered the goggles and mask over my face. Helplessly I leaned over, my hands nervously shaking as I flipped the switch on my table saw…

    It’s been ten years now, in and out of local lumberyard/half-way houses. Ten long years since that fateful night. Yea, I’ve tried maple. I’ve even given oak and mahogany a try. But always that voice comes back to me, beckoning and sinister as ever as I ponder my next woodworking project. And always I falter, weak and hopelessly smitten.

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