What? Politics is Funny?

[EddieDingo]

Whether you support this guy:

Or this one:

Can we keep it fun?

[Aggie]

At the post office there was one employee whose job was to deal with letters that had no proper address.
One morning he found a letter simply addressed to “God.”
Curious, he opened it.
Inside it read:
“Dear God,
I am an 83-year-old widow living on a tiny pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse and it had $100 in it — all the money I had until my next payment.
Christmas is coming and I invited two friends for dinner. Without that money I can’t buy any food.
I have no family left, so you’re my only hope.
Love, Edna.”
The postal worker was so touched he showed the letter to the rest of the staff.
They all chipped in what they could, and together managed to raise $96.
They put the money in an envelope and sent it anonymously to Edna.
Everyone felt great knowing they had helped make her Christmas dinner possible.
A few days after Christmas another letter arrived… again addressed to God.
The whole office gathered around as it was opened.
It read:
“Dear God,
Thank you so much for your kindness. Because of your help I was able to cook a lovely Christmas dinner for my friends.
We had a wonderful day and I told everyone about your generosity.
P.S. There was $4 missing…
…but I’m sure those no good, thieving b*stards at the Post Office took it.”

[Aggie]

[Aggie]

First off I am okay. Understandably, a little shaken this afternoon. I was robbed at the gas station near my house. After my hands stopped trembling, I managed to call the Sheriff’s Dept. The whole thing was caught on camera. The officers were quick to respond and calmed me down, explaining this is happening everywhere. My money is gone, all of it, but I am alive, that’s all that matters. The police asked me if I knew who did it. I said yes.….
It was pump number 2

[Aggie]

Once upon a time, there was a man who built a bridge over a wide river. He set up a gate and charged a toll—one silver coin from anyone who wanted to cross to the other side. The locals grew to resent him; eventually, they stopped speaking to him altogether, bitter about every coin they had to part with.
When the man was on his deathbed, he called for his son.
"I haven't been kind to people, son," he whispered. "They hated me while I lived. I’d like them to have something good to say about me once I’m gone. Can you make that happen?"
"Don't worry, Dad," the son promised. "I’ll make sure of it."
The man passed away and was buried. Immediately after the funeral, the son took over the bridge. But instead of lowering the price, he tripled it. He began charging three coins for every crossing.
From that day on, whenever the villagers crossed the bridge, they would sigh and shake their heads.
"Man," they’d say. "The old man was a saint...He only asked for one coin!"