I don’t want to say we eat out
a lot, but I’ve noticed that lately when I call my kids for dinner, they run to the car.
—Julie Kidd
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Every Easter our church stages an elaborate pageant. Last year the man who played Pontius Pilate had to work on the night of the dress rehearsal, and a chorus member substituted for him.
As we began rehearsing Pilate’s solo, the conductor stopped the orchestra. “Pilate, I don’t hear you,” he called out. “You’re not loud enough.”
“Pilate is at work,” a voice on the stage shouted back. “We’ve got our co-Pilate tonight.”
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I had spent the late winter months waiting impatiently for signs of spring. When the first warm, sunny Saturday arrived, I eagerly unlocked the storm door and stepped onto our patio deck. I was pleased by the sight of green sprouts and the sounds of singing birds. More than anything else, I delighted in the sweet aroma of the spring air.
Knocking on the kitchen window, I beckoned to my wife to join me in enjoying the pleasures of the season. She quietly brought me back to earth when she reminded me that I was standing over the dryer vent, inhaling the scent of fabric softener.
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One spring day I was taking the roll in my secretarial class at our local technical college. One of the sun worshipers was absent. “Cindy won’t be here this afternoon?” I asked.
“She went home to lay in the sun,” a young woman in the front row answered.
Trying to correct her grammar without embarrassing her before the class, I whispered, “Lie.”
“Okay,” she replied in astonishment. “Cindy got sick and went home.”
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My father was completely lost in the kitchen and never ate unless someone prepared a meal for him. When Mother was ill, however, he volunteered to go to the supermarket for her. She sent him off with a carefully numbered list of seven items.
Dad returned shortly, very proud of himself, and proceeded to unpack the grocery bags. He had one bag of sugar, two dozen eggs, three hams, four boxes of detergent, five boxes of crackers, six eggplants, and seven green peppers.
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Doreen, aged 79, finished all the shopping on her weekly list at Walmart supermarket. She walked determinedly towards her car which she had left in the car park. There she saw four youths about to drive away in her car. Doreen became agitated and dropping her shopping to the ground, she drew a handgun from her bag and screamed as loud as her lungs would allow at the four miscreants, 'I have a gun and I know how to use it. Get out of the car you horrible little men.'
The four lads didn't wait around for a second invitation but got out and ran helter-skelter as far away as they could, whereupon Doreen, somewhat shaken, proceeded to load her shopping bags into the back of the car and get into the driver's seat. As hard as Doreen tried she could not get her key into the ignition. Then it began to dawn on her why.True story? Or Urban myth
She came across her own car a few moments later in another row near by. Putting her bags now, into her own car, she drove hesitantly to the nearest Police Station. As Patricia was recounting the tale to the Duty Sergeant she wondered why he kept giggling and smiling. Eventually he pointed to the end of the counter where dear old dizzy Doreen saw four young lads, faces extremely pale, who were describing how a little old lady, some 5 foot tall, wearing glasses and with grey hair had stolen their car by waving a gun at them.
Doreen was not charged with anything.
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We were going hostelling with a mate. He'd driven in his red mini, we'd caught the train. Quite near the hostel we saw the red mini and thought wouldn't it be funny to move it round the corner (yeah well physicists have limited access to real humour!). The 6 of us picked up the mini and were just about to stagger round the corner with it when a very angry chap lent out of his upstairs window and asked what the **** we were doing with his car. Sheepishly we put the car down and carried on our way to see another red mini containing our friend grinning his socks off!!!
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After his return from Rome, Will couldn't find his luggage in the London Gatwick airport baggage area. So he went to the lost luggage office and told the woman there that his bags hadn't shown up on the carousel. She smiled and told him not to worry because they were trained professionals and he was in good hands.
'Now', she asked Will, 'has your plane arrived yet?'
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Ten Unusual Baggage Left Behind On London's Public Transport System
Samurai sword
Prosthetic arm
A coffin
A stuffed fox
A puffer fish
A lawnmower
A park bench
WW2 gas masks
A home vasectomy kit
A pair of breast implants
Oh come on!!! A home vasectomy kit?? 
The poor guy probably forgot that he'd already used the home castration kit, and didn't need to do a vasectomy. 
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Good morning everyboomie, and Happy Valentines Day to all you star crossed lovers, and significant others out there.
Boy howdy am I glad house cleaning and decontamination day is over!
I absolutely hate having to don that wet suit and snorkel and goggles and flippers to clean the bathrooms, but it has to be done at least every six months.
I know you're probably thinking that's overkill, and I agree, but I hate filth, so I'm going to stick my six month schedule no matter what.
When I was younger I didn't really care, and I would only do it once a year, but no more.
Before I knuckled down for house cleaning, I took the girls to the park. It's such a joy to watch them run around and sniff everything.
There was a couple, and some kids walking around the foot path, and the dogs ran over to greet them. The little one kept chasing after them, I think because she was so excited to see kids again. There were 4 or 5 kids in her last home.
I'm sure she was remembering fun times with them.
Have a happy day everyone.
joe
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