Brilliant Comedy

Albert Einstein was also recognized as the original absent-minded professor. One day, on board a train, he was unable to find his ticket. The conductor said, “Take it easy. You’ll find it.”

When the conductor returned, the professor still couldn’t find the ticket. The conductor, recognizing the famous scientist, said, “I’m sure you bought a ticket. Forget about it.”

“You’re very kind,” the professor said, “but I must find it, otherwise I won’t know where to get off.”

—–

I had just moved to an address between Sunrise Ave. and Sunset Blvd., one of Sacramento’s major streets, and was explaining to a clerk where my home was located for billing purposes.

“I live between Sunrise and Sunset,” I told her.

“Oh, Honey,” she knowingly replied, “we all do.”

—–

The Game Warden stopped a deer hunter and asked to see his hunting license.

“This is last year’s license,” the warden informed him.

“I know,” said the hunter, “but I shouldn’t need a new license. I am only shooting at the deer I missed last year.”

—–

A little girl, dressed in her Sunday best, was running as fast as she could, trying not to be late for Bible class. As she ran she prayed, “Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late! Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late!”

As she was running and praying, she tripped on a curb and fell, getting her clothes dirty and tearing her dress. She got up, brushed herself off, and started running again.

As she ran she once again began to pray, “Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late! …But don’t shove me either.”

***

My English teacher used to tell me that I would never be very good at poetry, because of my dyslexia.

Well, I recently made three jugs and a vase – so there!

***

Imagine the conundrum of an Atheist,, stuck at a green light, behind a car with a bumper sticker that says, “Honk if you love Jesus.”

***

You can get lawyers at IKEA now, but you have to build your own case.

***

A WEE Bit More Scottish Humor

John decided to go golfing in Scotland with his buddy, Keith, so they loaded up John’s minivan and headed north. After driving for a few hours, they got caught in a terrible blizzard, so they pulled into a nearby farm… …and asked the attractive lady who answered the door, if they could spend the night.

I realize it’s terrible weather out there and I have this huge house all to myself, but I’m recently widowed.” she explained. “And I’m afraid the neighbours will talk if I let you stay in my house.

Don’t worry.” John said. “We’ll be happy to sleep in the barn and if the weather breaks, we’ll be gone at first light.

The lady agreed, and the two men found their way to the barn and settled in for the night.

Come morning, the weather had cleared, and they got on their way and enjoyed a great weekend of golf.

But about nine months later, John got an unexpected letter from an attorney.

It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but he finally determined that it was from the attorney of that attractive widow he had met on the golf weekend.

He dropped in on his friend Keith and asked, “Keith, do you remember that good-looking widow from the farm we stayed at on our golf holiday in Scotland about 9 months ago?

Yes, I do.” said Keith.

Did you, er, happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the house and pay her a visit?

Well, um, yes!” Keith said, a little embarrassed about being found out, “I have to admit that I did.

And did you happen to give her my name instead of telling her your name?

Keith’s face turned beet red and he said, “Yeah, look, I’m sorry, buddy. I’m afraid I did. Why do you ask?”

John replied, “Well, she just died and left me everything.

Flash Fiction #264

PHOTO PROMPT © Krista Strutz

NEW HOME – NEW PROBLEM

The air in Oklahoma is too dry, the wife said.  It’s like living in a clothes dryer, especially when a tornado puts you on spin cycle.  We can work from home anywhere.  Let’s move to Maine – Acadia National Park, gorgeous scenery, moist sea-breezes.

Then, along comes a Big Bad Wolf hurricane.  It huffed, and it puffed, and…. we used to have a house right there.  It’s alright.  It left us another – an assemble-it-yourself log cabin.  I hope all the parts are pre-numbered.  We need to assemble it soon.  That buzzard is looking hungry.  Be careful what you wish for.

***

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

Flash Fiction #169

Piedmont

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

IT’S RAINING, IT’S POURING

Before I moved here from California, Piedmont was just the name of a city.  Here in North Carolina it’s a little different.  The word still means the same thing – foot of a mountain.

In California, the only thing that Piedmont had to worry about was if the San Andreas Fault opened up, and most of the state took a dip in the Pacific.  Here, you guys have to evacuate to the piedmont to get away from big storms.  When do you figure Hurricane Florence will die off?

Usually, if my drinks are watered down, it was done by the bartender.

***

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

Friday Fictioneers

 

Flash Fiction #158

Hot

PHOTO PROMPT © Yarnspinnerr

HOT TIME IN THE OLD TOWN

He’d thought through this move and job change well…. At least he thought he’d thought it through well.  More money, better perks, better advancement chances – yup!  Best of all, no more Pennsylvania winters, so cold they froze his ballpoint pens off, and shovelling snow, drifted as high as an elephant’s aah…..  eye.

Only after moving did he think – if Atlanta’s that warm in the winter, how hot is it in the summer?? Don’t Georgia houses automatically come with air-conditioning?  Praise Saint George Carrier!  What was his promised installation date again??  He might have to sleep in the office until then.  😯

***

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

***

Click on the title if you’d like to hear Leon Redbone sing A Hot Time In The Old Town Tonight, a happy little ditty from 1927, a time of Flappers, bathtub gin, and no worries about nuclear war.

Friday Fictioneers

Flash Fiction #77

Smog

PHOTO PROMPT- © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

IN THE THICK OF THINGS

No wonder her husband’s company had been so generous to get him to move, and become the branch manager in China, the financial world’s new engine.

The company had arranged and paid for the move. The pay and perks were fabulous.  They had everything they needed – except clean air.  Hubby’s limo and office were both filtered, while she and the children didn’t dare to go outside.

This was the way the world would end, with neither a bang nor a whimper, but with a hack and gasp for breath.

***

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

Old Stuff – Part 3

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So I’m back to posting about sharp/pointy things.  This lovely little letter opener was a gift, about 45 years ago.

The wife’s next-oldest brother was always interested in cooking.  He worked at a large snack bar of a local department store through high school.  He earned a scholarship to a chefs’ college in Huntsville Ontario, and after graduating, spent three years training in the prestigious restaurant of a snooty department store in London, England.

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He’s a couple of months older than me.  We married while he was away.  During his sojourn in Old Blighty, The Who became famous, far more so there, than here in Canada.  While he was gone, the Canadian band, The Guess Who, became famous here, but were unknown over there.  When he returned, he experienced some confusion during his radio listening.

We got along well, and he eventually became the manager of the in-store restaurant of a local Hudson’s Bay store.  He met a new girlfriend, who soon became a fiancée.  He was living in a small basement apartment, and, as the wedding day approached, he located a flat suitable for them both.  We needed to move out of the lower half of a rented house, and, as luck would have it, both moves happened on the same end-of-month Saturday.

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I was at work on the Friday afternoon, when my phone rang.  It was him.  “You’re moving tomorrow?”  “Yes.”  “Do you have a moving truck reserved?”  “Yes.”  “Do you have an appliance dolly rented?”  “Yes.”  “Do you have guys lined up to help you?”  “Yes.”  All yes, two weeks ago!

“I just called U-Haul, and they don’t have any trucks available tomorrow.  I asked about a dolly, and they said they’re all committed.  I phoned a cousin and a couple of brothers-in-law, and they told me they’ll be helping you.  Do you think we could move two lots of furniture tomorrow?”  He’s still a great chef, and has become a much better organizer.

I picked up the rental truck when U-Haul opened at 8 AM, and drove to my old place.  With his added help, we stuffed our belongings in, drove to the new place and quickly unloaded it, at least in the proper rooms.

Leaving the wife and kids to deal with it as best they could, we all drove to his old apartment, loaded his things, drove to his new domicile and unloaded, where everybody stayed, to help him unpack.  I returned the truck to U-Haul before noon, all done in four hours.  Well, perhaps not done.  I returned to a home piled high with boxes, no-one to assist, an unhappy wife, and 24 bottles of a brand of beer I didn’t like.  Maybe I should have organized that better??!

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At my place, I used the dolly to move the refrigerator with ease – in, out, on the truck.  The bachelor had a tiny fridge, a foot shorter, and a foot narrower than ours.  I went to rock it back, to put the dolly under it – and it wouldn’t move.  Probably stuck to a waxed floor!  So I pushed again – and it moved a tiny bit.  I looked inside – empty! – closed the door and body-checked it.  Finally got the dolly slipped under it.

Where most fridges were aluminum and plastic, he had one that had been built in the late ‘40s, sheet steel, with copper and LEAD piping.  Half the size of ours, it weighed twice as much.  It took three of us young, healthy lads, straining and wheezing, to get it up the half-flight of stairs.

While we were loading things, I noticed that the professional chef had some high-quality knives in his kitchen.  We discussed them, and he asked what kinds of knives I liked.  I never suspected an ulterior motive, but a month later, when I served as an usher at his wedding, he presented me with this vaguely Scottish broadsword-looking tool, as a thank-you gift.

BTW, FYI, and a bunch of other meaningless, random letters, the wife has worked too hard over the years to become too good a cook to be able to claim that she poisoned me accidentally, so today, Dec. 2, 2014, we celebrate our 47th wedding anniversary.  I get an extra cup of Geritol, and a shot of Lipitor with dinner.  If she’s lucky, it’ll be like Remembrance Day, and she’ll get two minutes of silence.    😀