Posted on 12/10/2004 11:36:45 PM PST by Destro
Beeber... Stuned... Must... recover... You... will... pay.....
Well back on the farm, we had a horse who had a little mare. This mare was the most cantakerous horse we ever had. We could never get her to settle down. We tried putting her in stables, in corrals, in fields and pasture, but to no avail. Then we had a "horse whisperer" come and check her out. He took one look at her and said that girl needs to be on a grass surface. Kentucky blue grass sod is the best. "Sod?", I asked? Yes he said, "Sod best the mare she'll settle then".
Funny you should mention Kentucky. I have a cousin named Beverly up in Louisville that used to be big into plays, but they couldn't cast her in big roles because she kept mugging for the audience, which loved her but got distracted from the plot by her. I went up for a Christmas family reunion, and her son, who is about 4, wanted me to sit down in front of the fireplace and play his favorite game, tiddly-winks, with him. But he is just as big a drama queen as his mom (especially when he loses), so I told him to play with his mom, saying:
Oh, tiddle down with Bev the ham!
And I've still got you on the Zod one, if only on length of the pun-chline alone. :)
Well back on the farm on Christmas Eve, the ladies would bake Christmas pies. They would cut all sorts of precise patterns and shapes in the finished pies to make the cut pieces more festive. Well one Christmas they had a little too much egg-nog cheer while they were cutting their pies. They started making all sorts of strange shapes on them. After awhile they could be heard merrily singing, "Angles we have blurred on pie..."
Pretty painful...but it does remind me of a seasonal situation I ran into recently. My cousins and I were harangued into working the alumni weekend for my mom and their mom, who had both attended the greatest Pittsburgh institution of higher learning, Duquesne University. The two mothers, who are nearly 90, have only one vice, and that's getting together with their cronies and gossiping about other alumni--BO-ring--so of course, we left after the initial rush on the registration tables, since everyone was busy yakking. We hightailed it to Fresco's, an oenophile's dream hangout. We got so smashed on madeira, though, that none of us remembered to pick up the ladies, who were expecting to meet the party at Fresco's. At about 6 that evening, the bartender walked over to us, and said loudly,
"Should old Duquesne aunts be forgot, and never brought to wine?"
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