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8/22/2003
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Happy Hour
Four
retired Army vets are walking down the street window shopping.
They turn a corner and see a sign that says "Veterans Bar" over the doorway of
an entry into an establishment that doesn't look all that well kept up. They
look at each other then go in.
On the inside, they realize in this case, they could judge the 'book by its
cover.'
The old bartender says in a voice that carries across the room, "Come on in and
let me pour one for you! What'll it be, Gentlemen?"
There seems to be a fully-stocked bar, so the men all ask for a martini.
In short order, the bartender serves up 4 iced martinis - shaken not stirred -
and says, "That'll be 40 cents, please."
The four men stare at the bartender for a moment then look at each other. They
can't believe their good luck.
They pay the 40 cents, finish their martinis, and order another round.
Again, four excellent martinis are produced with the bartender again saying,
"That's 40 more cents, please."
They pay the 40 cents, but their curiosity is more than they can stand.
They've each had two martinis, and so far they've spent less than a dollar.
Finally one of the men says, "How can you afford to serve martinis as good as
these for a dime apiece?"
The bartender replies, "No doubt you've noticed the decor in here. And the
outside ain't nothin' to write home about. I don't waste money on that stuff.
But, here's my story.
I'm a retired Master Sergeant and I always wanted to own a bar. Last year I hit
the lottery for $45 million and decided to open this place for real veterans.
Every drink costs a dime, wine, liquor, beer, all the same."
"Wow. That's quite a story." Says one of the men.
The four of them sipped at their martinis and couldn't help but notice three
other guys at the end of the bar who didn't have a drink in front of them and
hadn't ordered anything the whole time they were there.
One man finished his martini and gestures at the three at the end of the bar
without drinks and asks the bartender, "What's with them?"
The bartender says, "Oh, those are retired Marines.
They're waiting for happy hour."
Petmeds
Ten Things You Wish You Could Say At Work
1. I can see your point, but I still think you're full of crap.
2. I have plenty of talent and vision. I just don't give a hoot.
3. How about "never?" Is "never" good for you?
4. It sounds like English, but I can't understand a word you're saying.
5. I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.
6. Ahhh, I see the mess-up fairy has visited us again.
7. You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.
8. I'm already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.
9. Are you coming on to me or having a seizure?
10. The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist.
Tee Time
Taking a wee break from the golf circuit, Tiger Woods drives his Volvo to an
Irish gas station.
The attendant greets him in typical Irish manner, unaware of just who the golf
pro is.
"Top o' the morning!" He calls out.
As Tiger gets out of the car, two tees fall out of his pocket...
"So, what are those, son?" Asks the attendant.
"They're called tees," replies Tiger.
"And what would ya be usin 'em for, now?" Inquires the Irishman.
"Well, they're for resting my balls on when I drive," replies Tiger.
"Jaysus, Mary an' Joseph!" Exclaims the Irish attendant. "Those fellas at Volvo
think of everything!"
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Tree of Life
A little girl sneaks into the bathroom and sees her father in the shower.
Naturally, she is curious, and asks what his testicles are.
Those are the "Apples of the Tree of Life" he tells her.
Impressed, the girl then repeats this information to her mother, who replies,
"Did he say anything about the dead branch they're hanging on?"
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A French Penis?
When Charles deGaulle decided to retire from public life, the British ambassador
and his wife threw a gala dinner party in his honor.
At the dinner table the Ambassador's wife was talking with Madame deGaulle.
"Your husband has been such a prominent public figure, such a presence on the
French and International scene for so many years! How quiet retirement will seem
in comparison. What are you most looking forward to in these retirement years?"
"A penis," replied Madame deGaulle.
A huge hush fell over the table. Everyone heard her answer... and no one knew
what to say next.
Le Grand Charles leaned over to his wife and said, "Mon cherie, I believe ze
English pronounce zat word, 'appiness!'"
Clearance Items!
Viking Office Products Clearance Items
Airport Security
At Heathrow Airport today, an individual, later discovered to be a public school
teacher, was arrested trying to board a flight while in possession of a compass,
a protractor, and a graphical calculator.
Authorities believe he is a member of the notorious Al-Gebra movement.
He is being charged with carrying weapons of math instruction.
No Peeking!
Muslims are banned from looking at the genitals of a corpse.
This also applies to undertakers.
The sex organs of the deceased must be covered with a brick or piece of wood at
all times.
"I think men who have a pierced ear are better prepared for marriage.
They've experienced pain and bought jewelry."
Rita Rudner
True Story...
We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10 year old child whom you know nothing about and committing to doing your best to be a good parent.
Like the child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually performing French kiss on me.
Lest you think this is a bad case of no discipline, I should tell you that Perry and I tried every means to break him of this habit including locking him in a separate bedroom for several nights. The new door cost over $200.
But I digress. Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house.
Although the cost of the project is downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving for family, extended family and a lot of drunk friends that I like more than family most of the time.
I was however assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did attend.
I am still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance in the whole damn house that worked, thus the assignment.
I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wednesday evening to reheat on Thursday morning. Since the kitchen was freshly painted you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams latex paint #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for 5 hours. After 3 hours, Perry and I decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour. An hour later the rolls were ready to go in the oven. It was 8:30pm. When I went to the living room to retrieve the pans, much to my shock one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality.
He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated.
I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK; however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every 2 hours for the rest of the night. God only knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick.
Suffice to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night.
Naively thinking the dog would be all better by morning was very stupid on my part. We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; put the dogs out to relieve themselves. Well, the damn dog was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls, falling flat on his butt and most of the time when he was walking his front half was going one direction and the other half was either dragging the floor or headed 90 degrees in another direction. He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee at the same time.
When he ran down the small incline in our back yard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the fence. His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon. I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk. He assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours and to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.
Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and took him with us to my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day. My sister lives outside of Muskogee on a ranch (10 to 15 minute drive).
Rolls firmly secured in the trunk (124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry and I, we took off.
Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it. Now he was beginning to fart and they smelled like baked rolls.
God strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the entire trip to Karee's, thankful she didn't live any further away than she did.
Once Jasper was firmly placed in her garage with the door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day.
The dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunk dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor to walk without running into something.
Of course, as the old adage goes, "what goes in must come out" and Jasper was no exception. Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen unbaked yeast rolls you might as well have put a concrete block up my ass but alas a dog's digestive system is quite different from yours or mine.
I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave Karee's house. Having discovered his ”packages" on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose down the floor. This was another naive decision on our part.
The blast of water from the hose hit the shit on the floor and the shit on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure. We finally resorted to scooping it up with a shovel. I (obviously no one else was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor.
And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the damn dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor that had to be brushed too.
Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house.
I am happy to report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. Nonetheless for wear I presume.
I am also happy to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door. It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them but decided hiding 2 of them for later would not be a bad idea.
If any of you have a suggestion as to how I can remove unbaked dough from carpeting I would certainly appreciate your feedback!
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