Way Down South Puns

A man gets in a cab at 33rd St. and Park Ave. and says, "I need to get to the Palmer House."

The cabbie says, "The Palmer House Hotel?"

The man says, "Yeah."

The cabbie says, "That's on Wabash in Chicago."

The man says, "Yeah."

The cabbie says, "I'm not gonna drive you to Chicago. I'll take you to LaGuardia, you can get on a plane."

The man says, "No, I can't do that, I've got a debilitating fear of heights, I can't fly. Can you drive me to the Palmer House?"

The cabbie says, "No, you can get out, walk a few blocks west, get on a train at Penn Station."

The man says, "That won't work, either. I got a conference at the Palmer House I got to get to by tomorrow morning. I need a cab."

The cabbie says, "Look, do you know how expensive a cab ride from New York to Chicago's gonna be?"

The man opens his wallet, offers the cabbie ten $100 bills, and says, "I'll give you the rest when you get me there."

The cabbie considers it, takes the money, and begins the trip.

He drives out of Manhattan, west down 33rd St. until he merges onto the Lincoln Tunnel ramp, then through the Lincoln Tunnel and into New Jersey, then through New Jersey until he merges onto the Pennsylvania Turnpike, then through Pennsylvania until he merges onto the Ohio Turnpike, then through Ohio until he merges onto the Indiana Turnpike, then through Indiana until, finally, he merges onto the Chicago Skyway Bridge.

(He stopped for gas a couple of times.)

But from the Skyway in Chicago it's a short trip to the Palmer House: he exits the interstate at Stony Island Ave. and takes it north to 57th St., where he turns right to merge onto Jean Baptiste Point du Sable Lake Shore Dr. He drives north up to Roosevelt Rd., then cuts over to Michigan Ave., takes it up to Ida B. Wells Dr., and then cuts over to Wabash Ave. He starts to take a right so he can drive north up Wabash to the Palmer House, then stops, realizes Wabash is a southbound one-way street, curses, and continues straight onto Dearborn St.

He turns right on Dearborn and takes it up to Monroe St., then cuts over once more to Wabash Ave., takes a right onto Wabash and drives one block south until, finally, he arrives at the Palmer House Hilton Hotel in Chicago.

The man pays the cabbie the rest of the fare (about $1950, but the man rounds it up to $2.5 grand with tip), thanks him, and sprints into the hotel just in time for his conference.

And, wouldn't you know it, as soon as the man is out of the cab, a woman sees the New York c

Down south in the backwoods. Along my way I met a friendly family that took me in for the night. Despite being impoverished they insisted that I stay the night and have dinner.

When we had dinner it seemed they were serving a kind of stew. Quite aromatic. I asked them what it was and the reply I got was “It’s Ma’s Soup Y’all.” I shrugged my shoulders and started to eat. The food was good of course but the meat was quite gamey. So I asked what type of meat it was?

‘Possum.