Uh Oh!

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Mrs. Smith complained to her doctor that her husband had lost all interest in sex.  The doctor gave her an experimental pill, instructing her to crush it in his drink when they had dinner.  When she came back the next time. He asked her how it worked.

“Oh just great!  Before we even finished dinner, he swept all the dishes off the table breaking them, ripped my clothes off, and ravished me right there on the table.  It was amazing!”

“Oh no!” said the doctor.  “That’s way too strong.  The foundation will pay all the damages!”

“Don’t bother.” said Mrs. Smith.  “We’re never going back to that restaurant anyway.”

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Southern Hospitality

imageA few weeks before Kathleen’s baby was due in June, 1947, Bill made arrangements for his friend Lon’s wife Sally to take her for her doctor’s visit.  He dropped her off not long after six in the morning, picked Lon up, leaving Kathleen to spend the day with Sandy, Lon’s wife.  The couples had Continue reading

Joke of the Day

While a man was putting flowers on his Mother’s grave, he noticed a man nearby lying prostrate on a nearby grave, wailing, “”Why did you have to die?  Why did you have to die?”

He approached him.  “Sir, I’ve never seen such a display of grief.  Who are you mourning?”

“My wife’s first husband!”

Don’t You Start!

imageGrocery shopping with Mother was a thrilling excursion.  Until after I was three, , Mother bought on credit at Darnell’s Store, the only store in our little neighborhood.  Housewives danced around out of Old Man Darnell’s reach while Mrs Darnell scowled from behind the counter.  Her mean little Pekingnese ran out nipping at us every time we stepped in the store, seeming to prefer the tender legs of toddlers, while Mrs. Darnell snapped that he didn’t bite, even after he drew blood.  Mrs Darnell’s bald spot was set off spectacularly by her frizzy-dyed black hair.  Mrs. Darnell and that hateful little dog will always be burned in my mind as a witch and her familiar.  Old Man Darnell always had a big brown stogie hanging out imageimage

his mouth, which I was convinced was a turd.  Any urge to smoke died then and there.  I could never ask Mother about the cigar since I couldn’t phrase my question without forbidden words.  I would have had to substitute gee-gee for the much-admired doo-doo word my cousins tossed about so freely.  Even, I at three and a half, knew it wouldn’t do to ask why Old Man Darnell always had a piece of gee gee in his mouth.

Eventually, Mother learned to drive, freeing her from Darnell’s Store.  She insisted on driving into Springhill, the nearest town with an A&P and a Piggly Wiggly.  She had to agree not to spend more than twelve dollars a week, since “money didn’t grow on trees,” nor were we a rich two-car family.  Unless Daddy caught a ride to work, on grocery day, Mother had to take him to work, come back home till the business day started, Attend to her business,  then pick him up at the end of his shift.  That was eighty miles of driving, not including in-town driving, all this in company of at least two and maybe three small children if Phyllis were not in school. First we had to drive by Piggly Wiggly where Mother parked to read all the specials posted on on butcher paper in the windows.  With that money-saving information firmly imbedded in her mind, off we headed to the A&P where her genius proved itself.

Before entering, Mother powdered her nose, put on fresh lipstick, combed her hair, then turned her attention to us.  In the days before she “had was so many children, she didn’t know what to do,” we were all dressed up.  Mother was sure to remark later who she saw who “went to town without lipstick.”   We’d be eating whatever was ten-cans-for-a-dollar, reduced for quick sale, or was on special that week.  We always got a box of Animal Crackers to munch in the cart as Mother inspected every can, potato, and chicken for the best buy.  When we’d start badgering her for cookies, candy, and cereal with prizes, she’d say, “Don’t start! Just don’t start!”  While Mother was critiquing the chickens, I remember poking my finger through the cellophane into the hambones.  I don’t think she ever caught me.  No Kellogg’s Cornflakes for us.  We got Sunnyfield, the store brand.  Long after the Animal Crackers were gone, Mother finally let the bag boy load her groceries in the trunk.  He needn’t expect a tip.  If she had another nickel, it was going for the specials at Piggly Wiggly.

Not long before I started school, Mother unwittingly discovered a way to ensure good behavior the whole time we were in town.  She’d say, “remind me to take you by the Health Unit to get a polio shot.”  I was perfect till we passed the outskirts of town.

Onward to Piggly Wiggly, where she’d grab up their specials. Eventually, we’d head home with bags and bags of groceries: twenty-five pounds of flour, five pounds of dried pinto beans, a three pound can of shortening, twenty- five pounds of potatoes, five pounds of meal, three pounds of coffee, powdered milk, since it was cheaper.  It seemed like it took a dozen trips to drag all those paper bags in.  Invariably, a couple would break and have us chasing canned vegetables.  She usually bought chicken, since that was the cheapest meat, but sometimes there’d be hamburger, roast or fish.

When I go to the grocery store with Mother now, I don’t get Animal Crackers,  though I could if I wanted to.  The other day were were headed into the grocery store when Mother laughed and said “Linda, will you buy me……?”

She does this as a joke every time we go in a store, now.  As always, I answer back, just like she always did when I was a kid, “don’t start!  Just don’t you start!”  This particular day, an infuriated elderly gentleman heard the exchange, and inferred I was being unkind.  I could have lost an eye before we made our explanations.  It’s good to pay attention to what going on around you before opening your mouth.

I Wanna Bite!

imageWhen my Brother Billy was about two and a half years old, Daddy and Mother stopped by the A &W Rootbeer Drive-In for a treat after supper one night, way back when the brought those frosty mugs out to the car, no to-go orders.   You had to finish your Rootbeer before leaving.  We’d already had dinner, so we knew we were getting Rootbeer.  A fellow who pulled up next to us ordered a hotdog.  In the heat of the July evening, everyone had their car windows down.  Billy was always ready to eat!  Naturally, when he saw the guy’s hotdog, he wanted one, too. Mother reminded him he’d already eaten and he’d only be getting rootbeer.  As the young man raised his hotdog to chomp down, Billy called out, “I wanna bite!”

Surprised, the fellow looked over to see a small boy on his mother’s lap, leaning out a car window, begging for a bit.  Quickly, he tried to resume his meal.  Again, “I wanna bite!”  It’s really hard to shut a hotdog hungry little kid up, though Mother tried.  I know we would have left if we hadn’t still had Rootbeer to finish and mugs for pickup.  After trying a couple more times to eat despite Billy’s plaintive begging, he cranked his car and left.

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Joke of the day:

Reblogged from Little Karl’s Blog

Little Karl's Blog

A preacher wanted to raise money for his church and on being told that there was a fortune in horse racing, decided to purchase a horse and enter it in the races. However, at the local auction, the going price for horses was so high that he ended up buying a donkey instead. He figured that since he had it, he might as well go ahead and enter it in the races. To his surprise, the donkey came in third!

The next day the local paper carried this headline: PREACHER’S ASS SHOWS. The preacher was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and this time it won. The paper read: PREACHER’S ASS OUT IN FRONT. The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the preacher not to enter the donkey in another race. The paper headline read: BISHOP SCRATCHES…

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Blonde Joke

IDKA blind guy on a bar stool shouts to the bartender, “Wanna hear a blonde joke?”

In a hushed voice, the guy next to him says, “Before you tell that joke, you should know something.”

Our bartender IS blonde, the bouncer is blonde. I’m a 6′ tall, 200 lb black belt. The guy sitting next to me is 6’2″, weighs 225, and he’s a rugby player. The fella to your right is 6’5″ pushing 300 and he’s a wrestler. Each one of US is blonde. Think about it, Mister. Do you still wanna tell that joke?”

The blind guy says, “Nah, not if I’m gonna have to explain it five times.”