Life Insurance

Accident

Farmer Joe decided his injuries from the
accident were serious enough to take the
trucking company (responsible for the
accident) to court. In court, the
trucking companies’ fancy lawyer was
questioning farmer Joe. Didn’t you say,
at the scene of the accident, “I’m
fine,” said the lawyer.

Farmer Joe responded, “Well I’ll tell you what
happened. I had just loaded my favorite
mule Bessie into the..”

“I didn’t ask for any details,” the
lawyer interrupted, “just answer the
question.” “Did you not say, at the
scene of the accident, ‘I’m fine!'”

Farmer Joe said, “Well I had just got
Bessie into the trailer and I was
driving down the road..”

The lawyer interrupted again and said,
“Judge, I am trying to establish the
fact that, at the scene of the accident,
this man told the Highway Patrolman on
the scene that he was just fine. Now
several weeks after the accident he is
trying to sue my client. I believe he is
a fraud. Please tell him to simply
answer the question.”

By this time the Judge was fairly
interested in Farmer Joe’s answer and
said to the lawyer, “I’d like to hear
what he has to say about his favorite
mule Bessie.”

Joe thanked the Judge and proceeded,
“Well as I was saying, I had just
loaded Bessie, my favorite mule, into
the trailer and was driving her down
the highway when this huge semi-truck
and trailer ran the stop sign and
smacked my truck right in the side. I
was thrown into one ditch and Bessie
was thrown into the other. I was hurting
real bad and didn’t want to move.

However, I could hear ole Bessie moaning
and groaning. I knew she was in terrible
shape just by her groans. Shortly after
the accident a Highway Patrolman came on
the scene. He could hear Bessie moaning
and groaning so he went over to her.

After he looked at her he took out his
gun and shot her between the eyes. Then
the Patrolman came across the road with
his gun in his hand and looked at me. He
said, “Your mule was in such bad shape I
had to shoot her. How are you feeling?”

***

Yogurt (noun) Semi-solid dairy product made from partially
evaporated and fermented milk. Yogurt is one of only three foods
that taste exactly the same as they sound. The other two
are goulash and squid.

***

Two Marines boarded a shuttle flight out of Washington, headed for SC. One sat in the window seat, the other sat in the middle seat. Just before takeoff, a Soldier got on and took the aisle seat next to the two Marines.  The Soldier kicked off his shoes, wiggled his toes and was settling in when the Marine in the window seat said, “I think I’ll get up and get a coke.”

“No problem,” said the Soldier, “I’ll get it for you.” While he was gone, the Marine picked up one of the Soldier’s shoes and spit in it.  When the Soldier returned with the coke, the other Marine said, “That looks good, I think I’ll have one, too. ”

Again, the Soldier obligingly went to fetch it and while he was gone, the Marine picked up the Soldier’s other shoe and spit in it.  The Soldier returned and they all sat back and enjoyed the remainder of their short flight to SC.

As the plane was landing, the Soldier slipped his feet into his shoes and realized immediately what had happened.”How long must this go on?” the Soldier asked. “This fighting between our services? This hatred? This animosity? This spitting in shoes and peeing in cokes?”

SWEEEET!

American money

To help finance our recent trip to visit Cordelia’s Mom, in Buffalo, I did a little unintentional crowd-sourcing. Son Shimoniac and I are almost impossible to buy presents for. I don’t even wear ties, so gaily-wrapped tee-shirts, socks or underwear often show up.

Grandson WillowThorn had been desperately searching for suitable presents for both Shimoniac and I. Our birthdays both occurred just before this trip. He had finally found something suitable for me, which he will now delightedly hold until Christmas. When he heard about our trip, he went to a bank and presented each of us with $50 US cash. That’s the joy of a gift of money. It’s always the right size. Let’s have a nice round of applause for one of the nicest grandsons/nephews in the world.

The son worked a midnight shift till 7 AM, Saturday morning, came home, showered, changed, had breakfast/midnight snack, and helped me load the car after I’d had *?*? hours of sleep. He normally goes to bed about noon, but sometimes gets excited by the weekend before him and stays up till 3 or 4. With the trip ahead, he was so high on adrenalin, I could have towed him to Buffalo like a kite.

I had decided to cross the border from Queenston to Lewiston, partly to save a bit of extra driving, but mostly to keep Ethel, the snotty GPS, quiet. Fifty miles of the drive were along a highway named for the Queen, The Queen Elizabeth Way – The QEW, which Ethel rendered to ‘The Q EWest’. I’m lucky she didn’t call it ‘The QEast/West’. Before we left, the son entered the address of the motel out in Batavia that we would stay at. Ethel didn’t get snotty till I decided to pull off I-90, to get to the restaurant. We forgot to tell her we were stopping for lunch.

Cordelia had already wisely backed out, but CM has two other quite intelligent daughters, both also smart enough not to want to have anything to do with mom’s two rotund Canuckleheads.

CM had to go down to the basement, where she managed to slip off the electronic monitoring ankle bracelet, unchain Mr. CM, and drag him along. He must have majored in Performing Arts in College, because he acted as if he actually enjoyed himself.

SDC10886 our restaurant, The Grapevine

Having already pulled an illegal player substitution on us, CM then proceeded to execute an end run. Two days before kickoff, she emailed me to say that she had invited another blogger and his wife http://markbialczak.com/ . Talk about feeling like a fifth wheel – more like the third rail.

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Sadly, they couldn’t make it. I seated The Bear across from Mr. CM. When he left, he still had both ears, so I guess the son didn’t talk one of them off. I posted a blog called Funny Money, about Canada’s new, polymer plastic bills, but it was before CM knew me, so she hadn’t seen it.

Loonie toonie

They both were aware of them, as well as our Loonie and Toonie – the $1 and $2 coins, but hadn’t actually seen them, so I hauled some out for their inspection. They were fascinated, especially hubby, with the holograms.

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Lunch was delicious, (and paid for by someone else) and the company was sparkling. I remembered to present CM with a refill on her maple candy, (this is where the SWEEEET comes in) and LadyRyl sent along a cloth chew-toy for the dog.  I don’t know if Not CM sneaked in or not.  I kept glancing around for strange looking people, and found everyone staring at Shim and I.  We were It.  😛

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Kooky, the Coke-sniffing drinking bear got to make some new friends. Afterwards, we were invited back to our hosts’ home to meet puppy Cody, and view the almost-completed repairs.

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Possibly overwhelmed by the size and the hair on The Bear, Cody was understandably reticent. It took some skill and patience to get a shot of her. CM then led us on a merry chase down to The Galleria Mall. After another minor episode of not quite being where we should, (wait till you read what I managed on my own later) she abandoned left us in the rain, outside a Sears store.

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I’m not much of a believer in superstitions, but the finding of lucky, welcoming pennies just continued – three days, three pennies found, the first by Shimoniac, on a hip-high shelf in Sears. Please return next week for the story of our stay in a small town city, out in the sticks.

Flash Fiction #67

Whirligig

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

OUROBOROS

Why is a mouse when it spins?
The higher, the fewer!

***

There’s a hole in our wooden bucket, dear wife.
Then fix it, dear husband!
With what shall I fix it?
With wood, dear husband!
How shall I cut the wood?
With the axe, husband!
The axe is too dull.
Then sharpen it!
But how shall I sharpen it?
On the stone!
With what shall I wet it?
With water, DEAR husband!!
How shall I get water?
In a bucket!!
There’s a hole in the bucket…..

***

Blessed are those who run around in circles, for they shall be called Big Wheels.

***

Neither original nor fiction, but a pastiche of quotes to show the frustrations of modern commercial life. First, all due credit to Robert Heinlein, for his vaguely worded mouse reference which means that, loosely translated, the higher you rise within any organization, the more numerous and strange your problems become, and the fewer of you there are to solve them.

Secondly, apologies to Harry Belafonte for slightly rewording his Caribbean ‘lazy-husband song’, which shows how one problem flows into the next, and finally back to the starting point, with no resolution.

And lastly, to the prolific philosopher, Anonymous, whose apt quote shows how we so often have to run harder and faster just to stay in the same place, chasing, but never quite reaching, solutions which are forever just out of reach ahead of us.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Up And Down, Over And Out

Toilet paper

Some people mount toilet paper rolls so that the paper comes off the back of the roll!??

W!   T!   F??

(My head hurts. Stop doing that, or I’ll swat you with a rolled-up copy of Tiger Beat.)

I know that toilet paper goes out the back but, to determine the efficacy and validity of it coming out the back, I have devised a little quiz. Feel free to play along.

When I am seated on the porcelain throne, I am in front of the toilet paper roll, therefore the dispensing end of the roll should be;
1. On the front of the roll
2. Around the back of the roll
3. Ah Hell, just grab a Kleenex, or use the front page of the National Enquirer

Gravity makes toilet paper dispense downward. On a reverse-mounted roll, to make the end of the roll move down, my hand should move;
1. Down
2. Up (then quickly back down, to catch the paper before it all unrolls onto the floor)
3. Straight ahead, with middle finger rigidly extended

With the end of the roll at the back, I cannot see it; I cannot find it; I cannot get ahold of it. To accomplish this I should;
1. Break a fingernail
2. Break a knuckle/finger
3. Scratch the paint
4. Gouge the drywall
5. All of the above
6. (Optional) pull the damned roll off and hang it properly

Toilet paper rolls are hung backwards to produce;
1. Beauty and harmony }
…………………………………….} (It’s a bathroom, for shit’s sake – LITERALLY)
2. Balance and Feng Shui}
3. A system to prevent toddlers and pets from unrolling them
4. Irritation and foul language

Toilet paper is mounted end-to-wall by people who are;
1. Seriously OCD
2. Artsy and pretentious
3. Deluded soccer-moms who mistakenly believe they are smarter than children and pets
4. Followers of Benjamin Button

Crap23042014

When I go to a home or business where someone has put the paper up inside-out, my stay in the echo chamber could be cut in half if I could just find and grab the elusive end, and be on my way. I don’t know what it is about kids and cats. We’ve had both at our house, and child-proofing a bathroom involved installing a sturdy hasp and padlock.

Bigfoot

For me, getting hygienic tissue off the back of a roll was a retirement project, more difficult than obtaining a clear photograph of Bigfoot. Let a two-year-old toddler or a calico cat wander into the powder room, and eight seconds later there was 400 feet of TP in a pile on the floor.

I would like you neatnik ladies to do two things. Don’t make your significant other feel insignificant. First, ensure that ass-wipe is easily available to your guys whose idea of fencing is more posts and planks, and not some swishy Olympic sport.

Second, I’d like an explanation of why you feel it’s necessary to hide the end of the roll at the back, which holds a little more heft than just, “It looks neat.” See, “It’s just the shitter.” above.

Invasion Force

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Look out USA, you’re under assault. The Meet-The-Blogger Tour went very well last year, beginning with Cordelia’s Mom, in Buffalo. She even invited us back. This year, the son booked a week of holidays early in October, and we’re going to spend a couple of days getting to know Buffalo, and CM, better.

We’ll tell the border guards that we’re jelly-bean salesmen, on our way to a sales conference. One look at our waistlines, and they’ll probably tell us to stop sampling the merchandise.

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Last year, CM sent us home with some ‘Buffalo’ merchandise, so I asked her if there were any Kitchener-area items that we could bring with us. I was thinking of Oktoberfest sausage, sauerkraut and sweet German mustard, but none of those agree with her digestion.

Football

There is a penalty to be paid for not having any interest in sports. We had planned this trip for the weekend of Oct. 3rd and 4th. I even told CM that we would be staying at a Red Roof Inn a bit closer than the one we used last year. Two weeks before launch date, I called to confirm a room, and found that high school/college/NFL football is in full swing.

I dialled 1-800-rent-me-a-room RedRoof, and the booking clerk told me that all three of the Buffalo area inns were fully booked. She managed to find me a room out in Batavia. I thought it was a further 30/35 mile drive, but on checking, I realize it’s almost 50. The clerk, who claims to live just over in Dayton, Ohio, pronounced it batt-uh-VEE-uh. There’s no sense trying Super 8, or Scottish Inns. If Red Roof is full, they’re all full.

I should have remembered. Years ago, on our way home from Charleston, SC, in October, I missed a turnoff and a Red Roof tucked away off the Interstate, just west of Pittsburgh. “Oh well, we’ll just go up to the next exit and pay a bit more.” We drove another 7 hours, through Pennsylvania and into New York. I must have stopped at 40 hotels/motels, before we got one of the last two rooms in a motel just west of Buffalo that wasn’t even officially open, at 1:30 in the morning.

I jokingly asked if CM had any suggestions for two unchaperoned males. She apparently has no knowledge of strip clubs or bars, but sent me links to Niagara Falls, the Buffalo zoo, and the Art Museum. Larry Lowbrow and his kid, Bart, were looking for something more like large bookstores, both new and used. We could get lost for a day at a decent mall, but none of us could find a Buffalo equivalent to Detroit’s Gibraltar Trade Center.

I had hoped to meet Cordelia, the inspiration who got CM into the blogosphere, but she’s transitioning from self-employed to a cube-drone, and won’t be available, dashing my hope for a father/son/mother/daughter blogger lunch. CM has threatened promised to try to bring along one of her other gorgeous, intelligent daughters. All I have to offer is a lumpen and surly son. She thought about asking her husband to join us, but apparently he’s the reason she doesn’t find me all that much of a Grumpy Old Dude.

CM has located a great restaurant for our lunch meeting, this year Italian, instead of last year’s Greek. If the border guards possess a bit of humor and pity, food and drink will be consumed, pictures will be taken for later online display, much conversation, socialization and frivolity will ensue, and themes for future blogs, both CM’s and mine, will occur.

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Last year, the wife and I took along a stuffed lamb, for identification. CM should recognize me, if not son Shimoniac. Since he is big enough to be known as The Bear, I felt we could take along the wife’s McDonalds Coca-Cola Bear, who is so cool that he has his own stuffed teddy bear. 😎

If this blogsite is quiet for a couple of days, you’ll know we’re in jail Buffalo….BattuhVEEuh??!