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Evening Chuckle

A ventriloquist comes onto the stage with his dummy and starts his act. One bit requires his dummy to tell Dumb-Blonde Jokes. After a few jokes, an angry blonde woman finally stands up and starts speaking her mind.

“I have had it with the stereotyping of all blondes being stupid!” the woman yells, and she continues ranting on about this.

Finally, the ventriloquist says, “Sorry ma’am …”

The woman cuts him off by saying, “You stay out of this. I’m talkin’ to the dummy.”

Dear Auntie Linda, August 14. 2014

Dear Auntie Linda, Getting a teaching degree was pretty easy, but I HATE teaching.  I knew I hated it before even I graduated when I was practice teaching.  I don’t like anything about it: the routine, the planning, the kids, the structure.  The other teachers are losers.  Worst of all are the parents.  They expect me to take their snot-nosed little turd-heads and make Einsteins out of them.  I’m not a magician!  Need new direction

Dear Need,  What a shame you are thinking of abandoning the field of education.  You seem like a natural.  An education degree is a great jumping off place for a lot of fields.  Have you thought of going into Corporate Law, Banking, Philosophy, or the Ministry?   You could go to  still Magician or Clown School.?  Mother Teresa’s opening may not have been filled yet.

Dear Auntie Linda,  I have been accepted to a prestigious liberal arts college in the Northeast, but didn’t get a scholarship as I had hoped. My parents will pay my way to a state school but won’t pay my for my private education.  They have invested well and could borrow against their retirement but refuse Pay for private education.  I was valedictorian of my class and feel I deserve this opportunity.  They say if anyone goes in debt, it should be me.  I don’t want to start life in debt.  How do I get them to see how important this is to me.  Private

Dear Private,  If you are really desperate, fill out those loan apps.  Then calculate how much you will owe at the end of four years.  Just like you, your parents have better places for their Money,  having already raised you.   Do a little math on what your payments will leave you on the bring-home from a fifty-thousand dollar a year job, if you are lucky enough to get one, right away.  You may have to live with your parents.  Chances are, whatever your parents are willing to pay for college will end up looking like a good deal. I don’t feel parents owe their kids a college education.   Whatever help they are willing to provide is generous, being it housing or monetary.  I was grateful I was able to help my kids, but wouldn’t have kept it up if they hadn’t done well.

Dear Auntie Linda, I have seen my husband eating toilet paper.  Clean,not dirty toilet paper, but it’s still gross.  He tears off a couple of steps, balls it up ands chews it.  He’s a doctor.  He knows better!  Why would he do this?  Wondering

Dear Wondering, of corse he knows better and is probably embarrassed. It’s called Pica, ingestion of non-food items.  Pica commonly includes chalk, talcum,lead, clay and numerous other items.  It may or may not be dangerous depending type and amount of substance consumed.  I imagine he is concerned.  Auntie Linda

Joke of the Day

The Engineer and the Frog

An engineer crosses a road when a frog calls out to him, “If you kiss me, I’ll turn into a beautiful princess.”

He bends over, picks up the frog and puts it in his pocket. The frog speaks up again and says, “If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I will stay with you for one week.”

The engineer takes the frog out of his pocket, smiles at it and returns it to the pocket.

The frog then cries out, “If you kiss me and turn me back, I’ll do whatever you say!”

Again the engineer takes the frog out, smiles at it and puts it back into his pocket.

Finally, the frog asks, “What is the matter? I’ve told you I’m a beautiful princess, I’ll stay with you for a month and do whatever you say. What more do you want?”

The engineer says, “Look, I’m an engineer. I don’t have time for a girlfriend, but a talking frog, now that’s cool!”

Rocky and the Great Doll Funeral

I’ve often wondered if bipolar is the normal state of childhood.  Since adulthood, I’ve never experienced the wild exhilaration nor the depths of despair I felt as a child.  As Christmas approached, I’d be wild with anticipation: excitement at Christmas lights, sparkles of snow on Christmas Cards, and the trip to the woods for a Christmas tree had me near hysteria.  By the time I was hustled off to bed Christmas Eve, sleep seemed impossible.  It seemed I’d lie awake for hours, peeking often for a hint of light through the curtains, sure morning must be here.  Finally, we’d wake Mother and Daddy for the most glorious day of the year.  Inevitably, in the way of greedy children, once the joy of dismantling all that had been carefully prepared, I looked at the doll, stuffed monkey, rocking horse, tea set, red sweater, plastic box of barrettes and pearl bracelet from Grandma scattered among the wrappings and thought, “Is this all?  I asked Santa for a pony, not a rocking horse!  I hated dolls and tea sets and had never voluntarily worn a sweater nor brushed my hair.”

I was devastated, feeling I couldn’t go on, till Daddy told me to give Rocky, the Rocking Horse a try.  He was a wonder on springs I could get some real action out of. Rocky and I were quickly moved to the porch where we could bounce without moving the furniture. Monkey and I must have ridden Rocky ten-thousand miles before I outgrew him.  Oh yes, I eventually left Monkey out in the yard for the dogs to chew up. Mother found his dismembered body later but never told me the sad tale.  I thought the doll and tea-set were a total waste till one of the neighbors died and I found out about funerals.  I ditched the dishes and the box made a great coffin.  We had a wonderful service for the doll.  A lovely time was had by all.