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Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!cbosgd!ihnp4!tellab1!barth
From: barth@tellab1.UUCP (Barth Richards)
Newsgroups: net.jokes
Subject: Re: off. large southern black females, no-rot
Message-ID: <752@tellab1.UUCP>
Date: Thu, 9-Jan-86 14:09:49 EST
Article-I.D.: tellab1.752
Posted: Thu Jan  9 14:09:49 1986
Date-Received: Fri, 10-Jan-86 07:26:03 EST
References: <460@ihdev.UUCP> <3050020@csd2.UUCP>
Reply-To: barth@tellab1.UUCP (Barth Richards)
Followup-To: net
Distribution: net
Organization: Tellabs, Inc., Lisle, IL
Lines: 100
Keywords: This reminds me...

In article <3050020@csd2.UUCP> krantz@csd2.UUCP (Michaelntz) writes:
>> /* csd2:net.jokes / fohl@cbosgd.UUCP (Mark Fohl) /  6:01 pm  Jan  5, 1986 */
>> In article <460@ihdev.UUCP>, rjv@ihdev.UUCP (ron vaughn) writes:
>>> 
>>> "well, what kind of flow do you have?"
>>> 
>>> "linoleum."
>>> 
>> This joke was popular many years ago.  I guess you could call it a period
>> piece.
>
>These jokes come in cycles; I guess it's that time of the month.  
>But we wouldn't want to cramp anybody's style.
>
>:-)     :-)     :-:-:-:-:-:-:)))))))!!!         

This reminds me of a story I once heard:

Once upon a time, there was a noble king. This king had a minstrel who
played the lute beautifully, and whose voice was no end of delight to the
king. The king, however, knew that the minstrel was growing old and would
not be able to provide him with music for too many more years, so the king
called the minstrel in one day and said that he should begin to look for
an apprentice. The minstrel said he would begin his search without delay,
and went out into the countryside to find a likely young lad to fill
the position.

For months on end the old minstrel searched to no avail. Through hill and
dale, town and field he looked, but nowhere could he find a boy who showed
any promise as a musician. Finally, in despair, he returned to the capital
city, and after a night of soul searching and much ale, stumbled out of his
favorite tavern and began his long trek back to the castle. With his head
muddled with a few too many mugs, he lost his way and wandered into the
poorest district of town.

As he was passing a tiny, dilapitated house, he heard the most beautiful
voice singing one of the king's favorite songs. The minstrel was transfixed
by the voice, and finally realized that here was what he sought. After
realizing that the voice was coming from the hovel that he was standing in
front of, he approached, and knocked on the door.

After a moment or two, a young girl answered the door, and upon requesting
to see the owner of the beautiful voice he had just heard, the minstrel was
told that it was her who had been singing.

The minstrel was crestfallen, for he was faced with a terrible dilema, for
apprentice minstrels were traditionally boys. However, having found no other
likely candidates for the apprenticeship, he offered it to the girl, who
readily accepted.

When the king heard of this break with tradition, he called the minstrel to
him and expressed his concern. The minstrel assured him that he had had no
other choice, as he had been unable to find any suitable male candidates.
The minstrel then reassured the king that all was well, that the apprentice's
training was going apace, and that the student had proven herself to be
a very apt pupil. The king's concerns thus were soothed, and he gave the
minstrel his blessing.

After many months of training, the apprentice was deemed ready to assume
full duties as the court minstrel, so the old minstrel announced his 
impending retirement and succession by his pupil. The king decreed that a
great feast should be held in honor of the transfer of duties and to
commemorate the many years of pleasant music the old minstrel had provided
in the service of the king.

As the day of the great feast approached, the apprentice could be seen to
become increasingly aggitated, and on the evening of the celebration was
a nervous wreck. When, in the midst of the feast, the king asked that the
minstrel-to-be sing a song for the members of the court, the young lass
stood, took up her lute, and proceeded to create a horrible din, as
her state of nervousness would not permit her to concentrate on her singing
or playing.

The king was, not suprisingly, disturbed and called the minstrel aside.

"Pray, why does thy pupil assault mine ears thus?" the king asked. "By thy
account she had a wonderous voice and prodigious skill with the lute."

"Aye, she do at that, sire," replied the old minstrel. "And by the morrow,
when she's the court minstrel official, she'll be singing like the larks
again, I warrant."

"Pray tell, why then does she screech like a banshee tonight?" asked the king.

"Oh, never you mind that, sire," replied the minstrel. "She just be
suffering from pre-minstrel tension."


				  Barth Richards
				  Tellabs, Inc.
				  Lisle, IL

				  "Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-OH-oh
				   la, la, la, la,
				   arf! arf! arf!
				   meeeeeeeeeeeeowwwwwwww!
				   My uncle used to love me
				   But she died"
                                  -Eugene Chadbourne,
				   LIVE AT THE OCCULT BOOKSTORE