Al: You're looking glum.
Sam: Yeah, my doctor says I can't play football.
Al: Really? I didn't know he'd ever seen you play!
TO MY WIFE: My overdraft at the bank. Maybe she can explain it.
TO MY BANKER: My soul. He has the mortgage on it anyway.
TO MY NEIGHBOR: My clown suit. He'll need it if he continues to farm as he has in the past.
TO THE ASCS: My grain bin. I was planning to let them take it next year anyway.
TO THE FARM ADVISER: 50 bushels of corn to see if he can hit the market. I never did.
TO THE JUNK MAN: All my machinery. He's had his eye on it for years.
TO MY UNDERTAKER: A special request. I want six implement and fertilizer dealers for my pallbearers. They're used to carrying me.
TO THE WEATHERMAN: Rain, sleet and snow for the funeral please. No sense having good weather now.
TO THE GRAVEDIGGER: Don't bother. The hole I'm in should be big enough.
TO THE MONUMENT MAKER: For the epitaph: "Here lies a farmer who has now properly assumed all of his obligations."
What did the the owl devil say to the sinning owl?
Owl be damned!
What do you call an owl that does magic?
Hoodini!