A farmer has to go out to plow his rental field about 10 miles from his farm.

To get there, he must drive his tractor, and his dog, old Joe, trots along beside him.

Halfway through the plowing, the tractor runs out of fuel. He wanders out to the road and flags down a ride, which just happens to be a Ferrari.

The driver says, “You can have a ride, but that dog can’t get in my car.”

The farmer says, “Don’t worry. Old Joe will keep up.”

The driver figures he’ll show the farmer just what his car can do and lets it rip. Just as he is going into 5th gear, he looks out the window and sure enough, Old Joe is right beside him. He can’t wait to have a look at the amazing dog, so he slams on the brakes, and the car stops rather abruptly.

The driver jumps out, exclaiming, “He’s the most incredible dog I’ve ever seen! But what kind of collar is that he’s wearing?”

The farmer shook his head and said, “That’s not a collar. That’s his asshole. He’s not used to stopping that fast.”

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An old farmer had owned a large farm for many years.

He had a huge man-made pond out back with a beautiful picnic area. For years, it was the perfect place to unwind or hold a family get-together. As the farmer grew older, his “Oasis” was used less and less. It eventually became the local swimming hole, and while his neighbors occasionally took advantage of the pond, he rarely made an appearance.

One evening, the old farmer decided to go down to the pond. He hadn’t been there in a while and felt the urge to pay a visit to check on things. As he neared the pond, he heard loud playful voices giggling and laughing. As he came closer, he was astonished to see that a bunch of young women had decided to sk1nny d1p in his pond.

He made the women aware of his presence, and they all went to the deep end of the pond. One of the women shouted to him, “We’re not coming out until you leave!”

The old man replied, “I’m here to feed the alligator.”

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There was once a man from the city who was visiting a small farm, and during this visit he saw a farmer feeding pigs in a most extraordinary manner.

The farmer would lift a pig up to a nearby apple tree, and the pig would eat the apples off the tree directly.

The farmer would move the pig from one apple to another until the pig was satisfied, then he would start again with another pig.

The city man watched this activity for some time with great astonishment.

Finally, he could not resist saying to the farmer, “This is the most inefficient method of feeding pigs that I can imagine. Just think of the time that would be saved if you simply shook the apples off the tree and let the pigs eat them from the ground!”

The farmer looked puzzled and replied, “What’s time to a pig?”

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There was a farmer who grew watermelons.

He was doing pretty well, but he was disturbed by some local kids who would sneak into his watermelon patch at night and eat his watermelons. After some careful thought, he came up with a clever idea that he thought would scare the kids away for sure.

He made up a sign and posted it in the field. The next day, the kids show up and they saw the sign, which read: “Warning! One of the watermelons in this field has been injected with cyanide.”

The kids run off, made up their own sign and posted it next to the farmer’s sign.

When the farmer returned, he surveyed the field. He noticed that no watermelons are missing, but the sign next to his read: “Now there are two!!!”

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A southern farmer got in his pickup and drove several miles to a neighboring farm and knocked on the farmhouse door.

A young boy, about 12, opened the door. “Is yer pa home?” he asked.

“No sir, he sure ain’t,” the boy replied. “He went to town.”

“Well,” said the farmer. “Is yer ma home?”

“No, she ain’t here either. She went to town with pa.” “Well, then, how about yer brother, Joe, is he here?” “No sir, he went with pa and ma.”

The farmer stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other, and mumbling to himself.

“Is there anything I kin do fer ya’?” inquired the young boy politely. “I know where all the tools are, if you want to borry one; Or maybe I could take a message fer pa.”

“Well,” said the farmer uncomfortably, “I really wanted to talk to yer pa. It’s about your brother Joe getting my daughter, Pearly Mae, pregnant.”

The boy considered for a moment. “You would have to talk to pa about that,” he finally conceded. “I know that pa charges $500 for the bull and $250 for the boar hog, but I really don’t know how much he gets for Joe.”