HOT COFFEE ... OOPS!
I was eating breakfast with my 10-year-old Granddaughter and I asked her, “What day is tomorrow?”.
Without skipping a beat, she said, “It’s President’s Day!”.
She’s smart, so I asked her “What does President’s Day mean?”.
I was waiting for something about Washington or Lincoln, etc.
She replied, “President’s Day is when President Biden steps out of the White House, and if he sees his shadow, we have
3 more years of Bull Shit.”
You know, it really does hurt when hot coffee spurts out your nose!☕🥵
Reminds me ...
I had to work late one night, so ended up with my daughter being picked up late and us eating out with my boss.
There was a meeting at the restaurant of some men’s club and you could tell by the laughter that they’d had a bit to drink.
One recognized my boss and came over to say hello. He gave me a compliment, then told my 3 year old how very pretty she was. She was having none of it.
“What beautiful hair and what beautiful blue eyes you have,” he said for the third time.
“Well,” she said rather loudly, “my eyes may be blue but my nipples are black!”
I had to wipe the coffee up from my desk after that one! Damn' that was funny!!!
These were written by men. Women aren’t generally that obsessed with genitalia.
Detroit, station WDIV. It was 1995 and “Toy Story” was the big thing for Christmas toys. One reporter was holding up a Buzz Lightyear doll, and a Mr. Potato head. Without skipping a beat, longtime anchor Carmen Harlan turns to the other reporter and says “did you get a Woody?”
Stunned silence, a few smirks, and then- commercial break.
Laughed my ass off!
CC
I was attending the graveside service / funeral of an aunt quite a long time ago. It was one of those hot, humid Texas afternoons, and my poor grannie—my aunt’s sister-in-law, needed me to help her hike all the way down off a grassy rolling hill in the heat to the parlor. Help her find the Ladies facilities, make sure she was ok. Grannie was a tough old bird but her messed up hip made things tough right back at her.
So I seated myself on a bench in the lobby and rested as well from the scorcher going on outside, keeping to myself and looking around at this dismal place. If they were trying to impute any semblance of peace or hope, it wasn’t working; I fully expected Lurch to come out of the chapel at any moment.
So, when Grannie was wandering around in the lobby looking at pictures on the wall and drinking water, I noticed something sauntering towards me. It was a bit over middle-age woman in a skirt and blouse and dress jacket and heels. Dragging a coffin and a measuring tape behind her. No, I’m kidding in that part. But the whole funeral parlor stalking saunter was right there.
And then she stops right in front of me, and says, “Hello. May I ask you something?” And then oozes on down to a seat next to me. “Okaaayy…” I said both inwardly and outwardly, holding my Stetson on my lap.
The woman continued her, well, weird gaze at me, and inquired, “Do you own property?”
Without skipping a beat I replied, “No Ma’am, I rent.” And seriously here, I wasn’t trying to be cute, sarcastic, play a joke. I really meant it. Currently I was renting a duplex to be closer to my job.
Pin-drop quiet. The lady looked at me, said “Oh,” her expression turned to one of an embarrassed Peanuts character, and then she slowly stood but there was a bit more pep in her step as her 5’4” frame made a beeline for some side office door and disappeared within.
I thought before I spoke but she didn’t think before she asked….a 22-year-old brushpopper and fence runner that had already spent the earlier part of the day doing just that. And just like any other young cowboy that age, nothing could be further from my mind about buying a hole but rather setting an end post in one.