Barber's don't exist
The Bible says to have an answer for why you believe to those who ask you.

This is a good example of an answer to one of the most common reasons sinners give for ignoring God and His goodness.

A man went to a barber shop to have his hair and beard cut as always.

He started to have a good conversation with the barber who attended him.

They talked about so many things and various subjects.

Suddenly, they touched the subject of God. The barber said: "Look man, I don't believe that God exists."

"Why do you say that?" asked the client.

"Well, it's so easy, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God does not exist. Oh, tell me, if God existed, would there be so many sick people?

Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there would be no suffering nor pain. I can't think of loving a God who permits all of these things."

The client stopped for a moment thinking, but he didn't want to respond so as to cause an argument.

The barber finished his job and the client went out of the shop.

Just after he left the barber shop he saw a man in the street with a long hair and beard (it seems that it had been a long time since he had his hair cut and he looked so untidy).

Then the client again entered the barber shop and he said to the barber: "You know what? Barbers do not exist."

"How can you say they don't exist?" asked the barber. "Well, I am here and I am a barber."

"No!" the client exclaimed. "They don't exist because if they did there would be no people with long hair and beard like that man who walks in the street."

"Ah, barbers do exist, what happens is that people do not come to me."

"Exactly!" affirmed the client.

"That's the point. God does exist, what happens is people don't go to Him and do not look for Him. That's why there's so much pain and suffering in the world."

A Redneck Christmas
A Redneck Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the trailer
Not a creature was stirrin’ ‘cept a redneck named Taylor.
His first name was Bubba, Joe was his middle,
And a-runnin’ down his chin was a trickle of spittle.

His socks, they were hung by the chimney with care,
And therefore there was a foul stench in the air.
From out in the yard there came such a noise
That Bubba got scared and rousted the boys.

There was Rufus, 12; Jim Bob was 11;
Dud goin’ on 10; Otis was 7.
John, George and Chucky were 5,4, and 3:
The twins were both girls so they just let them be.

They jumped in their overalls, no need for a shirt,
Threw a hat on each head, then turned with a jerk.
They ran to the gun rack that hung on the wall.
There were 17 shotguns; they grabbed them all.

Bubba said to the young’uns, “Now hesh up ya’ll!
The last thing we wanna do is wake up yer Maw.”
Maw was expecting and needed her sleep,
So out they crept out the door without making a peep.

They all looked around, and then they all spit.
The young’uns asked Bubba, “Paw, what is it?”
Bubba just stared; he could not say a word.
This was just like all of the stories he’d heard.

It was Santy Claus up on the roof, darn tootin’
But the boys didn’t know; they was about to start shootin’!
They aimed their shotguns and nearly made a mistake
That would have resulted in venison steak.

Bubba hollered out, “Don’t shoot, boys!”
That’s Santy Claus and he’s brought us some toys.
The dogs were a-barkin’ and a-raisin’ cain,
And Bubba whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.

“Down, Spot! Shut up Bullet! Quiet, Pete and Roscoe!
Git, Turnip and Tater and Sam and old Joe!”
“Git down from that porch! Git down off that wall!
Quit shakin the trailer, or you’ll make Santy fall!”

The dogs kept a-barkin’ and wouldn’t shut up,
And they trampled poor Pete who was only a pup.
Santy opened his bag, and threw out some toys.
Bubba got most, but left a few for the boys.

From up on the roof Santa heaved a great sigh.
Since the guns had been dropped he just might not die.
He jumped in his sleigh, told his reindeer to hurry.
The trailer started to wobble Santa started to worry.

Just as the reindeer got into the air,
The trailer collapsed, but Bubba didn’t care.
He was busy lookin’ at all his new toys.
Then a thought hit him, and he said to the boys:

“Go check on yer Maw, make sure she’s all right.
That roof fallin’ on her could-a hurt just a might.”
But Maw was OK, and the girls were too.
They fixed up the trailer; it looked good as new.

And as for Bubba, he liked Old St. Nick,
But Santa thought Bubba was a pure-in-tee hick!
Bubba had a nice Christmas, and the boys did, too.
And the Taylors wish a Merry Christmas to you!