An elderly Canadian gentleman of 83 arrived in Paris by plane.
At the French customs desk, the man took a few minutes to locate his passport in his carry-on bag.
“You have been to France before, monsieur?” the customs officer asked, sarcastically.
The elderly gentleman admitted he had been to France previously.
“Then you should know enough to have your passport ready.”
The Canadian said, “The last time I was here, I didn’t have to show it.”
“Impossible, Canadians always have to show your passports on arrival in France!”
The Canadian senior gave the Frenchman a long hard look, then he quietly explained, “Well, when I came ashore at Juno Beach on D Day in 1944 to help liberate this country, I couldn’t find any Frenchmen to show it to.”
A big city lawyer went duck hunting in rural Tennessee. He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer’s field on the other side of a fence. As the lawyer climbed 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 into this field, and now I’m going to retrieve it.”
The old farmer responded, “This is my property and you’re not coming over here.”
The indignant lawyer said, “I am one of the best trial attorneys in the United States, and if you don’t let me get that duck, I’ll sue you for everything you own.”
The old farmer smiled and said, “Apparently you don’t know how we settle things in Tennessee.” We settle small disagreements like this with the “three kick rule.”
The lawyer asked, “What is 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 the proposed contest and decided he could easily take the old codger. He agreed to bide by the local custom.
The farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the
attorney. His first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel-toed work boot into the lawyer’s groin and dropped him to his knees. His second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer’s last meal gushing from his
mouth. The lawyer was on all fours when the farmer’s third kick to the rear end sent him face-first into a fresh cow pile.
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, “OK, now it’s my turn.”
The old farmer smiled and said, “Naw, I give up. You can have the duck.”