Anonymous
Falling in love is like jumping off a really tall building. Your brain tells you it is not a good idea, but your heart tells you, you can fly.
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Recently I heard the former mayor of Reading, Pennsylvania,
recount some funny stories about his time in office. One happened while he was running for reelection; he was in a bar and paid for a
woman’s drink. She thanked him but wondered why a stranger had
bought her a beer.
“I’m running for mayor,” he told her, “and I want your vote.”
“You got it,” she said, grabbing her glass. “Anyone’s better than the jerk who’s in there now.”
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A student seeking a job at our university was handed an application. He dutifully filled out his name and address. When it came to the entry “length of residence,” he wrote: “Approximately 30 feet.”
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As I entered the elevator
at our hospital, a disheveled-
looking man rushed in behind me carrying a ceramic blue baby bootie filled with carnations.
I smiled knowingly and asked,
“Does he look like you?”
“I hope not,” he said. “I just deliver flowers.”
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When a music student brought his French horn to my shop for repair, he complained that the instrument “felt stuffy” and he couldn’t blow air through it. It’s not unusual to find partial blockages in brass instruments if small items get lodged in the tubing, but when I tested the instrument, the horn was completely blocked. After much probing and prodding, a small tangerine dropped out of the bell.
“Oh,” said the musician when I handed him the fruit. Seeing the bewildered look on my face, he explained, “My mom used the horn for a cornucopia in a Thanksgiving centerpiece.”
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The checkout clerk at the supermarket was unusually cheerful even though it was near closing time. “You must have picked up a ton of groceries today,” a customer said to the checker. “How can you stay so pleasant?”
“We can all count our blessings,” the clerk replied. “The hardest part of this job is the turkeys and the watermelons. I just thank God that Thanksgiving doesn’t come in July.”
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Our eldest daughter, Ann, invited her college roommate to join our large family for Thanksgiving dinner. As families sometimes do, we got into a lively argument over a trivial subject until we remembered we had a guest in our midst. There was an immediate, embarrassed silence.
“Please don’t worry about me,” she said. “I was brought up in a family too.”
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I worked on a toll road, answering the phone, collecting money and issuing toll tickets. One Thanksgiving Day, a woman called to ask about road conditions on the turnpike. After I said everything was A-okay, she told me a friend was coming for dinner. Then came the stumper. “If my friend just left from exit twelve,” she asked, “what time should I put the turkey in?”
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After Thanksgiving dinner, the adults gathered in the living room to exchange reminiscences, while the children went into the family room to play. Suddenly our hostess noticed that an elderly relative was missing. “Where’s Aunt Florence?” she asked.
From across the room came a masculine drawl, “Oh, she’s with the kids, bridging the generation gap.”
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My husband and I were relaxing on lounge chairs on a Jamaica beach, half listening to a couple walking
ankle deep in the clear water. The woman was extolling the beauty of the island when suddenly she let out a scream.
“Oh!” she shrieked. “There are fish in here!”
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Scene: A secondhand movie
exchange …
Me: Do you have the DVD of
Sharknado?
Clerk: Is that a documentary?
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Recently, I woke up to find that two of my car’s tires had been stolen. When the police officer arrived, he asked, “When were you last driving the car?”
“Last night at 11:00,” I said.
“And the tires were on it then?”
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A friend was ordering her meal at a drive-through when she noticed she could get a side dish gratis.
“And I’ll take the free wiffie also,” she said.
“What?” asked the clerk.
“The free wiffie,” she said, pointing to the sign.
“Ma’am, that’s ‘Free Wi-Fi.’ ”
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As we waited for a bus in the frosty weather, the woman next to me mentioned that she makes a lot of mistakes when texting in the cold.
I nodded knowingly. “It’s the early signs of typothermia.”
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We were an Air Force family, but our son could not grasp that
fact. Anytime someone asked what his father did, he’d say, “He’s in the Army.” I told him umpteen times, “Stop telling people I’m in the Army!” It finally seemed to hit home because on the admittance form
for kindergarten, under “father’s
profession,” the teacher wrote, “He doesn’t know what his father does, but he’s not in the Army.”
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At the age of 55, I finally got
my bachelor’s degree and set out to
become a substitute teacher. One day, a seventh grader asked if I’d been teaching long.
“Actually, I’m brand-new,” I told him. “I just graduated.”
Looking me up and down, he asked, “How long were you in college?”
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I tried to explain to a client why I couldn’t help him with a project that was written in a program code that I didn’t know.
“Let’s say you’re asking me to write something in a specific language. Now, I’m fluent in English and Spanish, but your project is in Chinese. Since
I don’t understand Chinese, I’m not your best option. You need someone who is fluent in this specific language. See?”
He said he did and thanked me.
The next morning, I got a call from another developer asking, “Why is
So-and-So asking us if we’re fluent
in Chinese?”
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“Why did you choose a college so far from home?” I asked my British student.
She explained that she’d fallen
in love with the American West by watching Westerns. So when it came time to apply for colleges, she Googled “Western universities.”
And that’s how she ended up here, at Western Carolina University.
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My teenage patient’s mother was concerned. “He must have a temperature,” she said. “He hasn’t taken our motorcycle out all day.”
“Let me ask you,” I said. “Do you have a thermometer?”
“No,” she said. “A Kawasaki.”
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Scene: Me using the Siri app on my iPhone.
Me: Siri, call my wife.
Siri: Samantha McLaughlin is not in your contacts.
Me: Samantha Gibbs is my wife.
Siri: I’ve added Samantha Gibbs as your wife.
Me: Call my wife.
Siri: Which wife?
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My young son ran to me, crying. “Daddy, I stubbed my toe,” he sobbed.
“Let me kiss it and make it better,” I said. “Which toe was it?”
“The one that has no roast beef.”
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Ah, marriage. I was standing in front of the bathroom mirror one evening admiring my reflection, when I posed this question to my wife of 30 years: “Will you still love me when I’m old, fat, and balding?”
She answered, “I do.”
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The water I was heating for pasta refused to boil, and if my 12-year-old son was right, I wasn’t helping by constantly checking on it.
“It’s like that old saying,” he said. “ ‘A watched website never loads.’ ”
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Good morning everyboomie.
This week is just flying bye.
I'm finally going down to the creek tomorrow morning early. I'll have to make it as early as possible. It's going to be sunny and 95 degrees when the day hits it's stride.
Today I went pretty early to take the dogs to the park, and then go to Walmart.
I had to carry Baby around the park.
Her strenght is going fast. I'm going back to the vet Wednesday to see how much longer he thinks she has now.
Prayers needed.
Have a happy day everyone.
joe
acebook
witter
to Spay and Save this morning. Dinner, Dancing, and Karaoke tonight at 8-8 Panda. Danish, Eggs, Grits, BB Pancakes, Hash Browns, and French Toast in the NC. 
