Ralphy was a quirky kid who lived just down the road from us. When he was eight or nine, he’d call on the phone, asking to speak to Daddy. We were always interested in hearing what he had to say.
“Yeah, what’s on your mind today, Ralphy?”
“My mama just bought some of that new White Cloud Bathroom Tissue. You should come try it! Bye.”
“Yeah, Ralphy. How are you today?”
“Fine. I just got my report card. I had all D’s and F’s.”
“No, Ralphy! Surely not!”
“Yep, and I’ve got the papers to prove it! Bye!”
“Hey, Ralphy. What’s going on?”
“I wrote a poem in school today. Want to hear it?”
“Rabbits love cribbage and cabbage.
Pigs love slibbage and slobbage.”
“That’s good, Ralphy. What did you make on it?”
“An F. It was supposed to be about the Flag. Bye.”
We all hung on those phone calls like a pig in slobbage.
Several years ago, I dreamed of camping by a mountain stream. About 3:30 am, Bud got up to go to the bathroom, stepping into about two inches of standing water. The plumbing under the bathroom sink had sprung a leak, flooding the house, hence my dream about the babbling brook. We were both sloshing around like mad, though clearly, nothing we did was going to make a great difference right then, except for cutting off the flood and opening the doors to let the house drain. We were surveying the damage when Bud went back in the bathroom for solace and discovered the greatest loss of all, soaked toilet tissue. I can still hear his heartbroken cry. “Well, <%#>*^. ;3~#}”£! I spent my last two bucks on toilet tissue and didn’t even get to take a s___!
Scientists at NASA built a gun specifically to launch
standard 4 pound dead chickens at the windshields of
airliners, military jets and the space shuttle, all traveling
at maximum velocity. The idea is to simulate the frequent
incidents of collisions with airborne fowl to test the strength
of the windshields.
British engineers heard about the gun and were eager
to test it on the windshields of their new high speed trains.
Arrangements were made, and a gun was sent to the British
When the gun was fired, the engineers stood shocked as
the chicken hurled out of the barrel, crashed into the shatterproof
shield, smashed it to smithereens, blasted through the control
console, snapped the engineer’s back-rest in two, and
embedded itself in the back wall of the cabin, like an arrow
shot from a bow.
The horrified Brits sent NASA the disastrous results
of the experiment, along with the designs of the
windshield and begged the U.S. . scientists for suggestions.
NASA responded with a one-line memo —
“Defrost the chicken.” (True Story)