Posted on 04/01/2017 10:32:33 AM PDT by blueunicorn6
“Please be sure to “break down” your cardboard boxes.”
Hahaha! NEVER.
This used to work well during blizzards to get your drive way plowed by the city, one fifth of booze put on an agreed place. Worked well during the Blizzard of 78.
Very witty. Thanks for the laughs!
I am having trouble that I fear is going to follow me to
the dump.- I’ve been trying to get shed of all dishes
that have LEAD GLAZE. - I test them by placing them in the
microwave & turning it on. If the dish starts spitting
sparks & maybe causing problems with weird noises; into
the trash it goes. Only, those plates are HEAVY. I’ve
managed to toss about 3 or them; but there are still about
five or six left to go. They make the garbage bag really
heavy as lead. - So. I persevere. I do not want to send
them to the thrift store as that isn’t nice. I won’t wish
anything I find unhealthy for me off on anyone else. I
keep on keeping on. :o/
LOL — well put. You’ve written some other good ones in the past.
Two things, many of those plates are collectible and there are people weeping to hear that you are throwing them away when they would give you money so they could put them in their display case.
The second thing is that it is not just lead that causes sparks but any metal.
So if there is any gold or silver in the pattern you will get sparks.
See, this is what I like about Free Republic.
You can learn so much stuff here.
“A short dog of wine”
I had no idea what that was.
I had to look it up.
I thought it was a drunken dashhound or something.
Now, in order for me to remember it, I will have to find a way to use it in my conversation five times today.
“Hey, Honey! The kitchen faucet is leaking like a short dog of wine.”
Nawwwww.....that ain’t right.
“Honey! I’m going out to get the mail and a short dog of wine.”
Still not good.
Can you use “short dog” with other stuff or just wine?
I mean, could you like say, “A short dog of peanut butter” or “A short dog of shotgun shells”?
And if you can say that, can you say it three times fast?
I can’t.
Well, if you’re going to throw stuff into the trash because it spits sparks and makes funny noises when you put it in the microwave, then I’m not coming over to your house for dinner because I spit sparks and make funny noises when somebody puts me in a microwave.
And for goodness sakes people. No jokes about drying cats in the microwave. Some people get really ticked off about that.
Besides, you dry cats in the clothes dryer.
My Dad always said, “Use the proper tool for the job.”
I think my Hot Pants poem is in that book.
If not, it probably should be.
I place my empty pizza box with grease stains in the recycle bin with the other paper. It’s a sin according to the recycling brochure but I defy the rule makers and I feel deep guilt for doing it.
So much guilt has built up in me that I’ve increased my pizza intake to twice a week to try to assuage the psychological harm the recycling brochure has caused me.
Oh, that is good.
Dang, that was funny..!
Coming of age in the early 1970s, I got to the hot pants part and became lost in reverie.
Hope the rest of the article was good......
lol great story, thanks for sharing
1. Guinea Red. Undrinkable Italian wine.
2, Christian Brothers and their knockoffs, serious wino stuff.
3. Some very poor Frog and Kali wines you used to impress you main squeeze.
I was lost in reverie, once. There are some bad parts of town in reverie. Parts of town where they jaywalk and stuff.
You better know where you’re going in reverie.
Yes, I remember Hot Pants.
There was this girl who sat in front of me in Algebra class.
She was the best thing in that Algebra class. She’s about the only thing I remember from that Algebra class.
That and letters are numbers.
Still haven’t figured that one out.
“A = 7”
OK.
9 = Rutabaga
Prove it doesn’t.
Yep.
In college, I took this girl to a fancy restaurant.
I ordered some wine.
They had this guy come over and open the bottle of wine for me. Usually, I’d just crack the neck of the bottle against the side of the table to open it, but, this was a fancy place. No sporks or nothing.
Turns out this guy was a sum-a-liar or something like that and he was some kind of wine expert. So was my Uncle Dave.
He pulls the cork on the bottle and hands it to me.
I says, “What do I look like....a garbage can?”
I threw the cork at him. Hit him right in the eye.
He’s standing there all teary-eyed telling me I’m supposed to sniff the cork.
Well, I know that in big cities they sniff stuff, but I wasn’t going to go to jail.
I told him to sniff his own dang cork.
He just shook his head and put the bottle of wine on the table and walked away mumbling something about “uncultured jackasses” or something.
Wasn’t a bad bottle of wine.
I asked them to put some 7-Up in it.
All the employees came out to see who ordered that.
I was pretty famous there for awhile.
What?! No Boone’s Farm?
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