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A funny thing happened...

Public Journal
Truth is funnier than fiction! Funny stories from the lives of friends and family, some of my favorite quotes and some thoughts on whatever may be happening in the little circus we call our life. Archives | Subscribe to Alerts Alerts Subscribe to Alerts | Feeds
   
Monday, October 25, 2004
8:21:59 AM CDT

a Hallowe'en Poem by me

The Cat sans His Hat  

The Cat sans his hat

its often been said

on Hallowe'en night

comes back from the dead.  

He hunts all the graveyards

with haunting refrain,

"Someone's stolen my hat

thus most of my name!"  

He harasses the Whos,

the Smeeches with stars,

the Smeeches without

and Foxes in cars.  

None here are safe.

Not Red Fish nor Blue.

Not Horton the Elephant.

Not poor Cindy Loo!  

He hounds the old Lorax

and sad Sam-I-am

(died of Salmonella

eating green eggs and ham)  

"What's that over there?

Its the rascally Things!"

(They don't have his hat

just a kite and some string)  

Thing One's eating Two

and dribbling with glee.

Thing Two smiles and says,

"Hey that's all right by me!"  

"They don't have my hat!"

Cat stamps with a shout.

"But its got to be here,

I haven't a doubt!"  

Deep in his tomb

where Cat hasn't seen

clutching a hat

gone moldy and green  

is old Dr. Seuss

chuckling with glee,

"It was my hat first!

He stole it from me!"  

So the Cat Sans his Hat

the people all say

will haunt Hallowed Eves

Forever... plus one day.



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Sunday, August 29, 2004
7:08:19 PM CDT

Barry and the police

We just got back from a trip up to Natchez Miss.  While there we had to visit (what is left of) Natchez Under The Hill.  If you get a chance read up on this imfamous place.  If you ever get to visit make sure you go to the Saloon under the hill. 

Barry, the evening bartender is a riot!  One story he related put me in mind of a song Arlo Guthrie could have recorded.  He and a buddy were pulled over for a traffic violation of one sort or another.  The cop digs through the vehicle and comes up with three pot seeds.  Enough to haul them off to jail it seems.  Barry says he didn't have the heart to tell the cop it was not seeds he'd found but a burnt match head and two boogers. 

So anyway, Barry says they kept them in jail for 9 months, until they finally admitted that yes, at some point in their pasts they had probably smoked some pot.  By then Barry and pal had it pretty nice and weren't all that interested in leaving.  Seems Barry was a trustee and was allowed out so he would go get a gallon of OJ and a jug of Vodka fairly often and send it up the old bed sheet rope to his pals on the inside.  I bet they miss Barry still. 



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Wednesday, June 30, 2004
11:50:55 AM CDT

BILL, THE BAR AND MARDI GRAS

Back to my friend Bill.  Mardi Gras before last Bill celebrated in grand New Orleans fashion as is expected of most New Orleanians.  He spent 3 days drinking.  Quite toasted but, still being Fat Tuesday, the gang decided to leave one bar and head off to another owned by the same man for a "private" party.  They arrive, open the place and continue to celebrate. At some point Bill became lost and wound up in the women's room where he passed out.  When they all decided to go home and sleep it off everyone assumed Bill had slipped out earlier so they locked up in the wee hours of Ash Wednesday morning and headed out. 

Bill awoke later and found himself locked in.  He says, "It was always a dream of mine to be locked in a bar."  He had change for one phone call and instead of calling the police or the bar owner he called his friend Dave.  "Dave!  You aren't gonna believe this!  I am locked in Chuck's bar!"  Then he hung up.  He then realizes what he has done.  He can't find a phone other than the pay phone.  Now, he is not sober yet so lets give him a bit of leeway here.  After a few hours he's getting upset.  No one has come in to open the place.  He remembers, Its Ash Wednesday.  They won't open until Thursday!  He looks out the windows and sees a woman he knew from the first bar and begins banging on the glass and she smiles and waves to him and goes on her way.  She had been celebrating herself.

Dave calls us and tells us about Bill and we all have a good chuckle but we didn't know he was still trapped.  We all assumed he'd called Chuck and got out.

Bill is now hung over and hungry.  But like Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard the place is devoid of any real food so he settles for cocktail olives and orange juice.  YUM!  Right.  Bill is now thinking what a foolish dream he had.  This is not fun.

Ash Wednesday comes and goes and Thursday dawns bright and new hope surges in Bill's heart.  Hours pass.  Hope fades.  Then a sound, a familiar sound, a hopeful sound!  A phone ringing!  Bill follows the ringing to find the bar phone and picks up the handset.  "Help, " he cries into thephone, "I am locked in here and have been since Mardi Gras day!"  The caller summons help and a furious Chuck comes down to let Bill out of his prison all the while claiming he will fire everyone. Including those that don't even work for him. 

Bill was much more careful this last Mardi Gras.  Uhm, come to think of it, I am not sure I have seen him since then.  I better go start calling the bars. 



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Thursday, June 24, 2004
8:28:12 AM CDT

Uncle Johnny, the dead mule and the cheap farmer

Back in the 40's my uncle Johnny was asked by a neighboring farmer if he would like to earn 50 cents.  All he had to do was bury his dead mule.  Uncle Johnny agreed and took some rope, a shovel and climbed onto his own mule and headed off to the farmer's field. When he got there he found the mule laying where he had dropped dead while pulling a plow.  Unfortunately it was hot and the mule had been dead long enough to accumulate the offspring of many flies and a serious case of rigor mortis among other things.  Uncle Johnny began having second thoughts but .50 was a lot of money so he climbed down and began digging.  He dug long and hard in the hot sun until he thought the hole was big enough.  He tied the rope around the dead mules legs and had his mule pull it into the hole.  It landed more or less on its back in the hole but unfortunately the hole wasn't deep enough and parts of the legs stuck straight up out of the hole.  Uncle Johnny decided he would climb down onto the mules midsection and force the legs to bend so he could cover it up.  The rigor was too far set in and the legs would not budge.  What did budge however was the mules midsection and he found himself knee deep in the mules innerds.  That was enough.  He shoveled the dirt over the mule and left it with a portion of all four legs pointed more or less skyward out of its grave and headed home.  Grandpa asked him if the job was done and Uncle Johnny said it was.  Later that evening the farmer rode up and had a chat with Grandpa.  It was agreed that the job would have to be finished and Uncle Johnny was sent back to the field bright and early the next morning to finish the job.  And he was a resourceful young lad. He took a saw along with him, removed the legs and buried them next to the rest of the mule.  I don't remember if he ever said he got his .50 or not.  I hope he did.

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Wednesday, June 9, 2004
11:18:26 AM CDT

BOO BOO, THE CANDLE, HIS TAIL

Once I had a very fluffy very white very magnificent cat and one of his many names was Boo Boo.  Being a very fluffy cat he owned a very magnificent and very fluffy tail he kept with him most of the time.  In fact, the only time I can recall he didn't have his very fluffy tail with him was for a short period of time after he had a spat with a candle.  Actually he was not aware of the spat with the candle but he was aware of the spat he thinks he had with me. 

It was an evening like many other evenings.  Friends had come over after work and we were listening to music and Boo Boo was making his rounds with his toy mouse for games of fetch with each guest in their turn.  He was very fair when it came to fetch.  Each guest was allowed to toss mousy but only in their turn and no guest got a second turn until everyone else had their first turn and so on until he tired of the game.  He was a very fine host. 

One guest accidently tossed mousy past a lit candle and Boo Boo of course not wanting to appear rude chased mousy past said candle accidently waving his very magnificent tail through the flame.  We all know that fur and flame don't mix well and his tail behaved accordingly.  Amidst screaming and squealing of the guests and myself Boo Boo quite unaware snatches up mousy and being very startled keeps running around the room in circles with me in high chase trying to evict the smoldering currently residing in his plume.  (Bet you thought I was going to say very fluffy tail again).  Aroudn and around we go, Boo Boo still clutching mousy and I still trying to douse the tail.  Across the tables, chairs, sofas, guests and  turntable currently in operation (he actually did a nearly full turn as he paused on top of the spinning LP).  I grabbed someone's water glass at some point and threw it at him but missed.  Finally I catch the poor thing and pat out the last of the glowing fur and examined him to his great disgust for signs of skin damage.  Amazingly there was none.  Boo Boo also possessed a magnificent glare when he was miffed and he WAS miffed at this point.  After a nice long glare he took mousy and retired under the bed for the rest of the evening and ignored me for days. 

Now that he's passed on I hope he knows that I meant him no harm.  I had him cremated and keep his ashes in a tin in the kitchen.  When a new cat comes to live with me I explain to them that if they play near the candles they can end up like Boo Boo.  They stay away from the candles. 



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Thursday, June 3, 2004
7:08:09 PM CDT

Mrs. K-, her lost check and the pig

Back in 1980 I was working for a local bank (remember when there was such a thing??)  I was a bookkeeper responsible for personal accounts of customers with last names begining with A thru L.  Part of my job was to set up stop payments for my clients who had lost or suspected checks had been stolen.  Probably the strangest story relating to this duty began when Mrs. K- called one morning lamenting the loss of a 250.00 check she'd written to her mortgage company.  Keep in mind Mrs. K- had a thick midwest/almost southern accent.

Ring...

Good morning, bookkeeping this is Beth how may I assist you?

This is Mrs. K- and I need to put a stop payment on a check...

I explained the 10.00 service fee for a 6 month stop payment and reminded her that if she wanted it to continue after 6 months she would have to call again and there would be another fee.  She agreed and seemed extremely relieved to know as yet no one had cashed this check.

I asked for the account number, names on check, who it was written to, the check number, the date it was written and all other pertinent information while filling out the form we kept on file so we could check each morning for the lost check in case someone tried to cash it. 

The last section was relating to any info about where the check may have been lost and whether or not it was possibly stolen.

Mrs. K- are you sure it is lost or could it have been stolen? 

Well, I am perdy sure its just lost fer good.

Do you know about where you lost it?

Oh yes! I know exactly! I dropped it in the barnyard and mah pig ate it.

I stopped for a few moments to compose myself becuse I felt a huge snort coming on that refused to be denied.  I don't know, maybe I was channelling the pig here.

By now my co-workers were intrigued.  Once I felt out of danger I asked, are you sure he ate it?  Co-workers are now gathering around like I am about to fling myself from the third story window.

Mrs. K-  Oh yes, he eats everything.

Mrs. K- I really don't think you need to waste the money for a stop payment because I am pretty sure no will want to cash that check once your pig is finished with it.

She thought for a moment then said, You know, yer probly right.  Thank you very much!

I hung up and looked into the faces of my co-workers.  I began, That was Mrs. K-..

And one says Oh yes, her.  She has a pet pig.  She even lets him in the house and it sleeps on the sofa. 

What kind of pig, one of those small ones ppl keep as pets? I asked

No a regular full grown farm pig, he's huge!  And noticing the look of horror on my face co-worker continues, But he goes outside to do his business.

Well, I am glad for Mrs. K-



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Wednesday, June 2, 2004
8:17:40 AM CDT

My lil sister and the rabbit coats

When I was about 12 or 13 my baby sister (then 4 or 5) and I were in a dept store.  In a center aisle stood a rack of rabbit fur coats.  Even at that time I found it disturbing that animals were killed and skinned for something so ridiculous.  I didn't say a word but stood looking at them.  My baby sister sensed I was upset and commiserating with me, reached out and took hold of a sleeve and examined the antitheft device (the store had locked gold chains on the rack that ran down through the sleeves ending in a large gold ring too big to fit through the sleeves) and feeling she needed to say something she whispered, "Aww look, they even left their leashes on." 

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8:03:31 AM CDT

mangled meanings part two

Deja Two: Part two of mangled meanings

Deja Screw:  running into last month's one night stand...

Deja Tube:  Reruns

Deja Crew:  Wearing the socks you wore yesterday coz you didn't do any laundry

Deja Brew:  A hangover

Deja Too:  your friend also senses the same thing has happened before

Deja Who:  Haven't we met before?

Deja Chew:  saving your gum for another round

Deja Spew: second meaning (for Heather) dry heaves

Deja Prude:  He still can't talk you into bed

Deja Drew: that crazy doodle you draw over and over again

Deja Shrew:  nagged again for leaving dirty socks on the floor

Deja Through!:  Finally remembering why you dumped the ex in the first place and dumping him again



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Friday, May 28, 2004
10:35:30 AM CDT

mangled meanings

here we go

Since I have been running dry on funny stories (how that is I am not sure) I decided to give some new words a try.

This all started from a card I sent my sister.  The front showed a dog with a puzzled look on his face and it read Deja Doo.  The inside showed the doggie by a pile of his own doo and beneath it said, I sense I have gone here before!

Deja Pew:  When you have gas

Deja Food:  Heartburn

Deja New:  Sensing this has never happened before.

Deja Stew: Left overs

Deja Blue:  Chronic depression

Deja Glue:  Having to re-repair something because the goofy glue is crap or it only glued your fingers together AGAIN.

Deja Mew:  Your cat keeps repeating itself because you don't speak kitty

Deja Loo:  happens when you have a urinary tract infection or the runs

Deja Clue: Someone keeps repeating the same hint because it was a terrible hint to begin with but they don't possess the creativity to come up with a new one.  Note to hint giver: Just go ahead and blab the secret already!

Deja Queue:  Standing in line with your number (127) and the light up board shows number 3 and has for the last 9 hours.

Deja Woo:  When the ex wants to date you again

Deja Flu:  Relapse of last months upper chest infection

Deja Shoe:  Finding (and buying) the cutest pair of sandles on sale and then finding a pair in your closet when you get home because you forgot they were on sale last month too.

Deja Rue:  Dating that ex again



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Sunday, May 23, 2004
12:35:48 AM CDT

something different

Sam was telling me something the other day.  He had been arguing with a friend once because this friend claimed no one in the world really cared for anyone anymore.  Sam is ever the optimist and claimed he was wrong.  After many words and a lot of frustration Sam left his apartmentin the rain.  While he was out he decided to stop in the grocery but just as he got to the store his contact lens popped out.  Now this is in the middle of the French Quarter in New Orleans and normally if you saw someone crawling around on the filthy sidewalk you would tend to cross the street.  The rain is really coming down now pretty good and he is desperately trying to find his contact in the dark.  Soon an Asian woman walks up and speaking no English she and Sam communicate thru sign language.  When she realizes what has happened she gets down on the ground too.  Soon an older couple arrive and ask what has happened.  They too, sans umbrellas, are on the ground.  Now there are four soaking people on all fours searching for the lens.  Then yet another couple arrive and begin helping.  Six are on the hunt and the rain is now horrendous!

After some minutes a police car pulls up and the officer shines his search light on the area.  At last the Asian lady finds the lens!  Sadly the lens is broken but Sam doesn't have the heart to tell them it is.  He pockets the lens, thanks everyone and then the Asian lady signs that she would like a picture of all those who helped as a token of her visit.  Everyone poses in the rain, arms around each other, for the photo. 

When Sam gets home and tells his friend what has happened the friend has to relent and agrees he was indeed wrong and that people do care.  Is there anything better than regaining faith?  Maybe there is.  Maybe that something is (knowinglngly or not) being part of what helps someone regain their faith and in turn strengthening your own.  Those people will never know how far they reached out to others that night.  Blessings and may you have the opportunity to help someone in just this way.



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