Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category
I thought an update might be warranted since I left in such a hurry yesterday. I’ll make it short and sweet. My leg was broken and the knee was badly bruised but oddly enough I had very little pain with either injury. My better-half arrived in short order and whisked me away to the local Emergency Room.
I was then lucky enough to spend a great part of my day sitting on my ass in the Emergency Room. First I got to chat with a fortyish women at the main desk who must have had her personality removed surgically. It was like trying to talk to my computer. When she was finished annoying me I was wheeled down the hall about ten feet to a waiting room where I sat for twenty minutes. A rather large but friendly woman whose job it was to obtain all of my personal information then took twenty minutes doing it. That’s just the hospital’s routine of getting all of my insurance information and anything else that may help them avoid a lawsuit down the road. With my leg still sticking up in the air I was jockeyed around the corner, thirty feet away, for another fifteen minutes where I was soon discovered by their computer geek who entered all of my data into their computer system and then filled my pockets with a huge pile of forms that further explained the hospitals privacy laws to me. Ho Effing Hum!
An hour and a half has now passed and I have yet to see or smell a doctor. I’m taken to an freezing cold examination room where I sat for another half hour and still no doctor. A young lady who looked twenty but sounded thirteen pushed me and my new best friend, the wheelchair, down the hall to x-ray. I was back in twenty minutes and told to wait for the doctor to arrive to explain things to me.
I become bored at that point and started nosing around their little room. As a payback for their insensitivity in leaving me sitting forever I managed to stand long enough to steal a dozen sets of really nice latex gloves from a dispenser on the wall. The next time I’m slicing and dicing hot peppers I can use those gloves and just grin a little.
Fifteen minutes later the doctor walks into the room, introduces himself, and states emphatically “it’s broken”. He drops another handful of forms on the table explaining how to use my new crutches. A nurse shows up and slaps on three ace bandages, a temporary splint, gives me a set of crutches, and the name and telephone number of an orthopedic doctor I need to call for an appointment. She advised that if I called as soon as possible I might get lucky and get in to see the doctor within a day or so. I was wheeled to my car, patted on the head, and sent on my way.
That was three hours of my life I’ll never get back. All I really received was a grand tour of their facility, free use of a wheelchair for three hours, three ace bandages, a fiberglass splint, and a really lovely pair of crutches. Fortunately I called the orthopedist from my car and was able to get an appointment for tomorrow. It would have been easier and cheaper just to cut the damn leg off and call it a day.
Trust me, I’ll keep you updated.

Well I was planning on spending some time writing about a few useless things today but it appears that won’t be happening. I was out of bed and on my second cup of coffee and feeling pretty good. That ended just a few minutes ago without much warning. I was going downstairs to take out some trash and to turn on the computer. Our main staircase is about thirty steps straight down to the ground floor and I just made that trip in just under two seconds.
Now I’m sitting here waiting for my ride to the hospital because I think I may have broken my leg or my ankle or just injured them badly. The pain is bad but not critical but I can’t walk on it at all. So I crawled to the computer and I’m sitting here writing this just to keep my mind occupied for a while.
I should have known that something bad was going to happen after the weird dreams I experienced just before waking this morning. I dreamt about meeting up with Bill Clinton, having a few drinks at his club, and then being abandoned when he and his driver unexpectedly left me standing along the road.
I walked a few blocks and managed to flag down a large car which strangely enough had a cargo of inmates from a local jail. The driver was kind enough to relay a message via radio to Slick Willie. He was given our location and told where to met us so he could pick me up. As his limo drove up he was standing up in the open sun roof waving at the many females walking along the side walk. He waved to me once, winked cutely, and then drove right on by and off into the sunset. All in all it was typical of what I would have expected from that SOB. Unfortunately Monica had been nowhere in sight during our encounter and fortunately for me Hillary was missing as well.
That’s the kind of dream (nightmare) I never have. Dreaming of liberals should have immediately alerted me to the real possibility of problems today but I wasn’t paying close enough attention. So here I sit in anticipation of a not-so-great day in an emergency room, being poked and prodded, and returning home unable to walk without crutches for the foreseeable future.
Just freaking wonderful Bill. I thought the days of you making me miserable were over but you’re that proverbial gift that keeps on giving. Shoot me now.
I grew up during the post WW II era period and I remember seeing Kilroy graffiti many times as a kid and later after my enlistment in the Army. I never knew the history behind it and never felt the need to find out. There was even a time or two when I painted that logo on a wall while stationed on bases in the US and even after my assignment to Korea I managed to leave Kilroy here and there. I’m sure many of you have seen Kilroy over the years and now it’s time to tell the whole story. Thanks to my friend Park from Kansas City who supplied much of this information.
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You can find his likeness engraved in stone in the National War Memorial in Washington , DC at the rear of a small alcove where very few people have seen it. For the WWII generation, this brings back memories. For us younger folks, it’s a bit of trivia that is a part of our American history. Anyone born in 1913 to about 1950, is familiar with Kilroy. No one knew why he was so well known but everybody seemed to get into it. So who was Kilroy?

In 1946 (the year I as born) the American Transit Association, through its radio program, "Speak to America ," sponsored a nationwide contest to find the real Kilroy, offering a prize of a real trolley car to the person who could prove himself to be the genuine article. Almost 40 men stepped forward to make that claim, but only James Kilroy from Halifax , Massachusetts , had evidence of his identity.

‘Kilroy’ was a 46-year old shipyard worker during the war who worked as a checker at the Fore River Shipyard in Quincy, MA . His job was to check on the number of rivets completed. Riveters were on piecework pay scale and got paid by the rivet. He would count a block of rivets and put a check mark in semi-waxed lumber chalk, so the rivets wouldn’t be counted twice. When Kilroy went off duty, some larcenous riveters would erase the mark. Later on, an off-shift inspector would come through again and count the rivets for a second time, resulting in double pay for those cheating riveters.

One day Kilroy’s boss called him into his office. The foreman was upset about all the wages being paid to riveters and asked him to investigate. It was then he realized what had been going on. The many tight spaces he was required to crawl into didn’t lend themselves to lugging around a paint can and brush, so Kilroy decided to stick with the waxy chalk. He continued to put his check mark on each job he inspected but added ‘KILROY WAS HERE’ in king-sized letters next to the check. He eventually added the sketch of the chap with the long nose peering over the fence and that became part of the Kilroy message.

Once he did that, the cheating riveters stopped trying to wipe away his marks. Ordinarily the rivets and chalk marks would have been covered up with paint but with the war on, however, ships were leaving the Quincy Yard so fast that there wasn’t time to paint them. As a result, Kilroy’s inspection "trademark" was seen by thousands of servicemen who boarded the troopships that the yard produced.

His message apparently rang a bell with our servicemen because they picked it up and spread it all over Europe and the South Pacific.

Before war’s end, "Kilroy" had been here, there, and everywhere on the long hauls to Berlin and Tokyo . To the troops outbound in those ships, however, he was a complete mystery; all they knew for sure was that someone named Kilroy had "been there first." As a joke, U.S. servicemen began placing the graffiti wherever they landed, claiming it was already there when they arrived.

Kilroy became the U.S. super- G I who had always "already been" wherever GI’s went. It became a challenge to place the logo in the most unlikely places imaginable (it is said to be atop Mt. Everest , the Statue of Liberty , the underside of the Arc de Triumphe, and even scrawled in the dust on the moon.

As the war went on, the legend grew. Underwater demolition teams routinely sneaked ashore on Japanese held islands in the Pacific to map the terrain for coming invasions by U.S. troops (and thus, presumably, were the first GI’s there). On one occasion, however, they reported seeing enemy troops painting over the Kilroy logo!

In 1945, an outhouse was built for the exclusive use of Roosevelt, Stalin, and Churchill at the Potsdam conference. Its’ first occupant was Stalin, who emerged and asked his aide (in Russian), "Who is Kilroy?"

To help prove his authenticity in 1946, James Kilroy brought along officials from the shipyard and some of the riveters. He won the trolley car, which he gave to his nine children as a Christmas gift and set it up as a playhouse in the Kilroy yard in Halifax , Massachusetts .

And The Tradition Continues…

EVEN Outside Osama Bin Laden’s House!!!
* * *
There you have it. Now you know.
It’s time for all of you sports experts out there to find out how well or how badly you’ve done? Here are the promised answers that I intend to memorize for my own uses in our local tavern’s weekly trivia contest. One of these days these factoids will finally pay off and win me a beer or two or three.
* * *
1. The referee’s yellow flag. Taylor said he felt he deserved it because the ref’s “ threw it against me” often enough.
2. Tennis, at the 1900 games in Paris. Charlotte Cooper of Great Britain was the first gold medalist.
3. New York Giant knuckleballer week Hoyt Wilhelm, in 1952.
4. Jim Thorpe, in 1970. He did it a second time in 1919. Deion Sanders was the second athlete to accomplish the feat 70 years later, in 1989.
5. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar with 4657. Other career records he holds include number of minutes played (57,446), points scored (38,387), and field goals scored (15,837). He played from 1969 to 1989.
6. O.J. Simpson, who racked up 2003 yards for Buffalo in 1973, breaking the previous record of 1863 yards set 10 years earlier by Jim Brown.
7. Five.
8. The red brick tenement that was his boyhood home once stood on the site of second base at Cincinnati’s Riverfront Stadium.
9. Rookie Willie Mays.
10. “Little Warrior”. O’Neal is 7’1" tall.
* * *
Here’s the obligatory joke of the day. Those of us who are historically Microsoft customers will really appreciate this.
* * *
Microsoft vs. General Motors
A few years ago at a computer expo, Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated "If GM had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon.
In response to Bill’s comments, General Motors issued a press release stating: If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics:
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For no reason whatsoever, your car would crash twice a day.
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Every time they repaint the lines in the road, you’ll have to buy a new car.
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Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason. You would have to pull over to the side of the road, close all of the windows, shut off the car, restart it, and reopen the windows before you could continue.
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Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.
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Apple Inc. will make a car that was powered by the sun, was reliable, five times as fast and twice as easy to drive – but would run on only five percent of the roads.
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The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would all be replaced by a single "General Protection Fault" warning light.
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The airbag system would ask "Are you sure?" before deploying.
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Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the door handle, turned the key and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.
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Every time GM introduced a new car, car buyers would have to learn to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.
10. You’d have to press the "Start" button to turn the engine off.
* * *
And finally for those of you that love limericks and beer, here’s a rather tame one proving once and for all that it’s possible for limericks to be funny without being too filthy.
There once was a girl named Ann Heuser,
Who swore that no man could surprise her.
But Pabst took a chance,
Found a Schlitz in her pants,
And now she is sadder Budweiser.
I’ve spent most of my adult life working with an odd assortment of people. I was an investigator in the Army which required me to interrogate people who spoke little or no English through an interpreter. A difficult task at best since many times the interpreter only knew enough English to get by. Years later as a police officer I was introduced to a host of criminal types, drug users, child abusers, and perverts. The first and most important thing during those interviews and interrogations required a reasonable knowledge of the subjects motivations and state of mind. For the most part it was an interesting and emotionally draining experience.
I had an excellent rate of success in my endeavors because I was able to develop a quick rapport with my subjects in a very short period of time. This remained the case through more than ten thousand interviews conducted in the years just prior to my retirement. I felt I had the ability to interrogate, interview, and understand anyone regardless of the situation. I was flexible enough to adapt to their way of thinking, find the problem, and fix it with a minimum of effort. Was I over confident? I didn’t think so at the time but I do now.
I finally met my match recently when I was dropped into a situation that befuddled me. I had little or no experience with young children and when my step-grandson was born my education in dealing with people took a strange turn. He communicates with his world of adults during this first year without language. He uses hand gestures and a collection of facial expressions to get his messages across which continue to puzzle most of us. He’s within a month or two from actually speaking understandable words and he’s currently babbling a constant stream of unintelligible nonsense. It appears to make some sort of sense to him but leaves us adults dazed and confused.
My best chance of understanding him will occur once he decides to start saying something I can understand. I decided to do a little more research into the mind set of a very young person who has no apparent life experience to draw from. How tough can it be I asked? Where do I start? I found the following article while surfing the Net and as soon as I read it I knew it held the answers I’d been looking for. A simple and brief list of how the mind of a very young child is motivated and feels about the things and people around them. The list is funny but without a doubt as close to the truth as I could find. See what you think.
1. If I like it, it’s mine.
2. If it’s in my hand, it’s mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it’s mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it’s mine.
5. If it’s mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I’m doing or building something, all of the pieces are mine.
7. If it looks like mine, it’s mine.
8. If I saw it first, it’s mine.
9. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it
automatically becomes mine.
10. If it’s broken, it’s yours.
I’m going to post a copy of this list on my frig and read it as many times as necessary each and every time the little guy pisses me off or does something inappropriate. This list explains everything in a way even I can understand. Be patient, no screaming or yelling, and no punishing for things he doesn’t yet understand. Just stand back and gently guide him in the direction we want him to go. They’ll be plenty of time later for guidance and instructions once he can talk and reply. Being able to speak and ask questions will make things so much easier for us both (I hope).
Being the first born grandchild in a family is a nice place to find yourself. I was the first born grandchild in my family and I milked it for all it was worth with my grandparents. I’m about to experience the whole thing again but from the opposite perspective. It should be interesting.
Why are farts and farting so funny? I don’t have the answer to that either but you have to admit the subject is always hilarious and 99% of the population would agree. As I’ve traveled around I’ve become attuned over time to those particular body movements when one is on the way and the ever so unusual sounds used in attempts to disguise those SBD’s (Silent But Deadly).
Yesterday was a good example. I stopped by a local Target store to pickup a few items. The place was crowded with the normal assortment of customers all roaming around doing shopping stuff. I was walking through the Kitchen Department minding my own business when I walked into a cloud of what can only be called toxic fumes. About five steps away from me was the only other occupant of the aisle and the obvious depositor of that nasty gas cloud. She refused to look at me and stood quietly staring at her shoes. If she thought playing possum was going to work she had another think coming. I slowly edged toward her as I was pretending to peruse the items on the shelf hoping to pull the cloud along with me. Of course I was holding my breath the entire time. She waited until I was very close and then glanced my way and smiled a cutesy little grin. She then squirmed a little which should have been a red flag for me and quickly walked away. I took one additional step and got nailed by another fart cloud that was so bad my eyes began watering and making it impossible to see for a few seconds. The perp had disappeared in that cloud of noxious fumes after her successful double ambush. She was one of those perverted types who love to stick around to watch their victims suffer. For someone so young she was a real pro.
My father would have been so proud of her. He was a master of filling an aisle with a nasty fart and then walking away. His farts had a "hang time" of five or six minutes which I’ve never been able to duplicate. He would stand in the next aisle and get off listening to the people gag and curse as they were enveloped. He never felt the need to stick around and see his results in person.
I felt a little violated and somewhat disgusted by her cowardly act of fart terrorism. I decided to do the normal and well thought out thing, revenge. It was time to locate and identify another unsuspecting victim and pass it on.
You need to remember that for the last two months I’ve been strictly following a diet which requires that I eat tons of vegetables. I’ve become a stinky, nasty, and disgusting fart machine. I no longer have total control of my farting and seem to be farting non-stop most of the time. I walked into the Cosmetic Department and settled in to lay my trap. An older woman and her two young daughters made the mistake of cruising through the danger zone. I laid down a path of cucumber and onion gas that was so bad I had to leave immediately. I stood nearby and waited and discovered that Mom had some mouth on her. She was gagging and cursing loudly and the two girls immediately fled the scene. They wanted that to avoid the gas cloud and also the embarrassment of their Mommy’s trash mouth. I freaking loved it.
You have to admit, that was damn funny. I know my later father is up there in heaven (maybe) and laughing his ass off. He was always big on upholding family traditions and would be happy as hell to see that I’m still carrying on one of his favorites. Now for a funny fart joke and I’m done for today.
Doctor, "What seems to be the problem?"
Patient, "Doc, I’ve got the farts. I mean I fart all the time."
The Doctor nods, "Hmm."
Patient, "My farts do not stink and you can’t hear them. It’s just that I fart all the time. Look, we’ve been talking here for about 10 minutes and I’ve farted five times. You didn’t hear them and you don’t smell them, do you?"
"Hmm," says the Doctor.
He picks up his pad and writes out a prescription.
The patient is thrilled "Great doc. This prescription, will it really clear up my farts?"
"No," sighs the Doctor, "The prescription is to clear your sinuses. Next week I want you back here for a hearing test."
One last tidbit of a few new fart euphemisms I stumbled upon:
Mud Duck
Trouser Cough
Crack Splitters
Turd Tooties
Anal Audio
Great Brown Cloud
Have a wonderful day and be careful out there. You’ll never know which aisle will be “The One” until it’s too late.
I consider myself a reasonable person with enough life experience to speak on any number of subjects. I’m like a of lot of you out there, I think I ‘m a freaking philosopher as well. The only difference is that most of the time I keep my philosophic thoughts to myself unless asked. I really dislike people who feel the need to preach at me without prompting on their thoughts on every little thing. They love explaining in great detail how to date, who to marry, how to raise children, how to eat properly, and on and on and on. Those people like nothing better than to "beat my ear" with what they think is the final word on everything. My first thought is to tell them to shut up and go away but being that frank with people these days is frowned upon. Decades of politically correct indoctrination has created this know-it-all condition in far too many people.
I can shovel out the blarney with the best of them but I realize that being an annoying prick is not on my bucket list. I’ll be the first person to admit if I need help or advice and I’ll ask for it. While I don’t like asking there are times when I must. You just have to remember that by the simple fact of asking you put yourself in the line of fire for way more information that you’ll ever need or want. It’s just the nature of the beast but it does requires that you stand there and listen to their advice no matter how stupid or inane it may be. So, rule number one: Only ask for advice as a last resort and be absolutely sure you’re asking the right person. You might be better off making a mistake than opening yourself up to the thoughts of a person whose own life experience is somewhat limited.
I’m open to the philosophy of others but prefer to read it rather than listen to it. Over the years I’ve collected different thoughts, statements and quotations, both humorous and serious, that I thought were interesting. Today I’ll pass along some of them to you. You have the option of reading them or not, it’s your choice. I’m making these tidbits available as a service that requires no additional conversation with me whatsoever.
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There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.
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Generally speaking, you aren’t learning much when your mouth is moving.
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Never miss a good chance to shut up.
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We are born naked, wet, and hungry. Then things get worse.
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Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead. Do not walk ahead of me, for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me, either. Just leave me the hell alone.
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If you think nobody cares if you’re alive, try missing a couple of car payments.
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If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
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If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.
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Good judgment comes from bad experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.
I hope these little pearls of wisdom will aid you in your search for answers to all those questions we struggle with. Some are funny but none the less true.
Yesterday I was a little bored which might explain why I was visiting Craig’s List. I’m not a huge fan of the site because getting up close and personal with anonymous crazies is not my thing. The history of Craig’s List and it’s problems are well known and need no further explanations from me. I do enjoy reading many of their ads which can be both unusual and occasionally funny.
Funny ads are nothing new. Over the years I’ve been drawn to newspapers and magazine ad sections to get a laugh or two. The Penny Saver newspapers and their ilk are by far the best. The following collection includes a few of those types of ads that made me “laugh out loud” when I read them. It amazes me how the ad writers can inject such humor into their ads and most times don’t even realize it.
* * *
FREE PUPPIES:
1/2 COCKER SPANIEL
1/2 SNEAKY NEIGHBOR’S DOG
1 MAN, 7 WOMAN HOT TUB —
$850/best offer
2 WIRE MESH BUTCHERING GLOVES:
1 5-finger, 1 3-finger, PAIR: $15
TICKLE ME ELMO, STILL IN BOX,
COMES WITH ITS OWN 1988 MUSTANG, 5L, AUTO, EXCELLENT CONDITION $6800
COWS FOR SALE.
NEVER BRED CALVES.
ALSO 1 GAY BULL FOR SALE.
FULL SIZED MATTRESS.
20 YR. WARRANTY.
LIKE NEW.
SLIGHT URINE SMELL.
NORDIC TRACK $300
HARDLY USED, CALL CHUBBY
BILL’S SEPTIC CLEANING
"WE HAUL AMERICAN MADE PRODUCTS"
HARRISBURG POSTAL EMPLOYEES
GUN CLUB
GEORGIA PEACHES
CALIFORNIA GROWN – 89 cents lb.
NICE PARACHUTE:
NEVER OPENED – USED ONCE
FOUND: DIRTY WHITE DOG.
LOOKS LIKE A RAT…
BEEN OUT AWHILE..
BETTER BE A REWARD.
EXERCISE EQUIPMENT:
QUEEN SIZE MATTRESS & BOX SPRINGS – $175.
SNOW BLOWER FOR SALE…
ONLY USED ON SNOWY DAYS.
JOINING NUDIST COLONY!
SELLING WASHER & DRYER $300.
OPEN HOUSE
BODY SHAPERS TONING SALON
FREE COFFEE & DONUTS, FOR SALE BY OWNER
COMPLETE SET OF ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA. 45 VOLUMES. EXCELLENT CONDITION. $1,000.00 NEGOTIABLE. NO LONGER NEEDED. RECENTLY MARRIED; WIFE KNOWS EVERYTHING
* * *
Why is it that spontaneous and unplanned humor like these ads can be funnier that a lot of the professionally constructed jokes we hear every day. I find this stuff hilarious and there seems to be an endless supply.
The Winter season is upon us in everyway except for the snow which will arrive when it’s most inconvenient as always. Everyone has been slowly abandoning their summer-wear and easing into that ever so attractive triple layered ensemble of t-shirts, sweaters, sweat shirts, gloves, hats, and parkas. People watching takes an ugly turn every year at this time and I’ll sure miss the bikinis, thongs, short skirts, and beautiful tans. It’s the worst part of winter for me.
It gets so bad at times that after a few months, usually in February, you might find yourself making a early trip to the local mall to have a coffee and watch the ever increasing numbers of people doing their morning walk. There’s nothing more sad than making an early morning visit to a semi-deserted mall just to watch other idiots trying to make some human contact and to get the hell out of the house for an hour or so.
I’m a little jealous of those folks who can’t wait for the snow to arrive so they have a place to play. I’m way too clumsy to be a snow bunny. As a kid I managed to injure myself on a regular basis during every Winter season without even trying too hard. Skiing was always good for a twisted knee or an up close and personal relationship with the occasional tree or shrub. Once or twice I was actually able to ski down a hill, knocking over other skiers along the way, and then ending up in a creek with thin ice and really cold water. We skated on a remote pond for years and without fail I always managed to fall through the ice on a few occasions.
After decades of minor injuries from walking on snow and ice I gave up. No skiing, no skating, and definitely no snowmobiling. When my friends in Maine discovered my failures as a snow bunny they began to give me odd looks and began whispering behind my back. This was the motivation I needed to get serious about resolving my winter issues. After many years I’ve discovered the only winter activity I’m good at.
As you are certainly aware every ski lodge has things in common with the others. There’s always a chair lift, snow, a big mountain, and a lodge. My winter activities this year will be centered primarily around the lodge and it’s varied selection of things to do. There are lovely rooms to sleep and play in. There are hot tubs, Jacuzzis, and untold numbers of young and attractive individuals to meet and interact with. My favorite thing in every lodge is that comfortable bar stool that sits at the end of the bar near the huge picture window. There I can sit, drink, eat, meet, and greet everyone. The only possible injuries I might suffer would be from an accidental fall from the bar stool which would only involve a spilled drink and possibly a small bruise on my buttocks. The other and more dangerous injury would be from one of the many skiers I see flying down the mountain just outside my window. If by chance one of them loses control and crashes through the window, I could be seriously injured. If I stay alert I should be fine but you never know. It also requires that I surround myself with a bevy of alcohol drinking buxom women to help break my fall if the worst happens. As always my approach to everything Winter is SAFETY FIRST.
Hopefully this winter I’ll remain uninjured for another year. Along the way I intend to stay as warm and cozy as possible with all of my new female lodge buddies. I promise to do my part when it comes time to do a Jell-O shot or two off the stomach of an enthusiastic female volunteer.
SKIING RULES
Good morning to all of you trivia nerds out there. I’d ask how you did on yesterdays quiz but out of respect I won’t. You’d need to be a major trivia lover to get more than four correct answers (in my humble opinion) to that bastard of a quiz. Just be thankful I’ve supplied you with a little more useless information that may assist you in getting a few free drinks at your favorite watering hole.
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1. The Girl Guides.
2. It turned up on a beach in San Francisco, 12 years later. Under the terms of the will, the lucky beachcomber who founded inherited half of daisies $12 million dollar estate.
3. July 2. There are 182 days before it, and 180 days after it.
4. Children’s Activities magazine.
5. They were all redheads.
6. Mother Teresa, India’s “saint of the gutter”.
7. The Cooperative for American Relief Everywhere. When the group was first formed, the letters stood for Cooperative for American Remittances to Europe, and then the Cooperative for American Remittances Everywhere.
8. 871
9. Jim Henson and Kermit the Frog.
10. It’s a pangram, it contains every letter in the alphabet at least once.
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If you really and truly scored higher than a four drop me an email or comment to let me know. You deserve some recognition for your amazing achievement. I think it’s time for a little humor to kick start your day.
How about a couple of limericks? I’ll make them a little less dirty than usual. I wouldn’t want shock any of my more sensitive readers.
I once took our vicar to tea;
It was just as I thought it would be:
His rumblings abdominal
Were simply phenomenal,
And everyone thought it was me.
To his friend, Ned said, rather blue,
"My wife Edith just told me we’re through,
For she says I’m too fat."
And his friend told him that,
"You can’t have your cake and Edith, too."
One last joke. Everyone should have at least one to take to work each day to astound and amaze their co-workers. Being a former police office I especially appreciated this one.
Woman: Is there a problem, Officer?
Officer: Ma’am, you were speeding.
Woman: Oh, I see.
Officer: Can I see your license please?
Woman: I’d give it to you but I don’t have one.
Officer: Don’t have one?
Woman: Lost it 4 times for drunk driving.
Officer: I see…Can I see your vehicle registration papers please.
Woman: I can’t do that.
Officer: Why not?
Woman: I stole this car.
Officer: Stole it?
Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner.
Officer: You what?
Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you want to see.
The Officer looks at the woman, slowly backs away to his car, and calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half drawn gun.
Officer 2: Ma’am, could you step out of your vehicle please!
The woman steps out of her vehicle.
Woman: Is there a problem sir?
Officer 2: One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car and murdered the owner.
Woman: Murdered the owner?
Officer 2: Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car, please.
The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but an empty trunk.
Officer 2: Is this your car, ma’am?
Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers.
The first officer is stunned.
Officer 2: One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license.
The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands it to the officer. The officer snaps open the clutch purse and examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.
Officer 2: Thank you ma’am, one of my officers told me you didn’t have a license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked up the owner.
Woman: Betcha the lying bastard told you I was speeding too.
HAVE A GREAT DAY