The Old Snake Bite Joke  

by

Jaron Summers

          If penis jokes offend you -- stop reading.

          What’d you know?  You’re still with me.  Good.  Here goes:  A rattlesnake bites Johnny on his John Henry.        

          “Don’t panic,” says Johnny’s camping pal, “My trusty medical manual’ll tell us what to do.”   (The manual prescribes cutting an X on the snake bite, then sucking out the venom.)   The befuddled pal keeps re-reading the advice to himself.

          “What’s it say?” asks Johnny, panicking.

          “Says you’re going to die.”

                                      * * * * * * * * * * * *

           The snake bite joke is an ancient one -- proving we’ve been making light of penises for a long time.  Of course, not everyone kids about penises.

          In India there are temples dedicated to them. 

          In Africa, men (usually dancing) wear penis sheaths.   These sheaths are often a meter long. That’s like everyone wearing size 24 shoes to the ball.

          The penis was worshipped in ancient Greece in Dionysiac festivals.

          Obviously many cultures take penises as seriously as the people who own them.  Canadian politicians are even interested in penises.   

          Recently Saskatchewan bought a thousand wooden penises.   Not for worship or dancing purposes but so their Grade Nine boys could learn how to wear condoms.   (Did they also buy wooden hands so their kids could learn how to wear mitts?   I don’t think so.  Sounds to me like something cockeyed was going on.)

          As you probably guessed, things got screwed up and Saskatchewan has crates and crates of unused wooden penises.

          I asked Craig Dotson, Saskatchewan Deputy Minister of Education, about his wooden penises.  Since no one else in his province is authorized to talk about length, price or quantity discount when it comes to the penises, you have to, uh,  dicker with him.  Mr. Dotson is not sure what kind of wood his penises are made of; however, he estimates the replicas are under a foot long.           They’re no longer part of the curriculum and so far fifty of the “woodies” have been sold, mostly to public health agencies. 

          This means 950 are still in hand.   In a continuing quest to balance its budget, Saskatchewan is attempting to resell them at $3.59 a whack.

          As a sister province, it’s Alberta’s responsibility to help market those surplus woodies. 

          The obvious use would be tent pegs.   I called several local companies. 

          Alas, everyone has enough tent pegs in this province, although one Edmonton rental company said it might be interested if the Saskatchewan wooden penises were larger -- there’s a need for 30 inchers to anchor  party tents.

          Because the corporate world can’t assist, it falls upon individual Albertans to help Saskatchewan out of the red.  Mr. Dotson’s phone number is 306-787-7071.  If  you can use a woodie (either for yourself or as a gift), give him a call -- but be nice to the poor guy. 

          You see, Mr. Dotson’s fellow politicians are starting to tease him.  Progressive Conservative Ben Heppner, Saskatchewan’s Education critic, said: “Maybe we can give them to the provincial parks for firewood so the campers could have a big weenie roast.”  Others have suggested Mr. Dotson head a “splinter” group of educators.

          Curiously, humor may be the key to the Saskatchewan woodie surplus.

          Woodies could turn the old snake bite joke into a hilarious sketch. 

          Of course, rattlesnake replicas would also be required.  As luck would have it, I happen to have a line on toy rattlesnakes. 

          If the Saskatchewan Department of Education acts quickly, I will sell them my toy Diamond Backs so they can teach the snake bite sketch in their sex education classes. 

          The Grade Nines will have good fun becoming comedians.   (Canada may turn out its own versions of Woody Allen.)   When the kids grow up they can join other comics on staff at the Saskatchewan Department of Education.

          Eventually someone will figure it’s time for real sex education in Saskatchewan.  At that point I’m confident the Ninth Graders will be able to enlighten that province’s Legislative Assembly.

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