In a spy novel I had just read, the hero hid a letter in a particular statue in Washington, D.C. Since I was in that city at the time, on a whim I decided to see if the statue really contained the small niche the author had described. To my great surprise, it did — and a cellophane-wrapped letter was inside. After a moment’s hesitation, I pulled out the letter, opened it, and burst into laughter.
An unidentified reader had penned, “Good book, wasn’t it?”
Ever since I was a child, I’ve always had a fear of monsters under my bed at night.
So I went to a psychiatrist and told him: “I’ve got problems. Every time I go to bed I think there’s something under it. I’m scared. I think I’m going crazy.”
“Just put yourself in my hands for one year, said the shrink. Come talk to me three times a week and we should be able to get rid of those fears.”
“How much do you charge?”
“Hundred seventy-five dollars per visit,” replied the doctor.
“I’ll sleep on it,” I said.
Six months later the doctor met me on the street. “Why didn’t you come to see me about those fears you were having?” He asked.
“Well, at $175 a visit, three times a week for a year, is $27,300.00. A bartender cured me for $10.00. I was so happy to have saved all that money that I went and bought me a new Miata.”
“Is that so?” With a bit of an attitude he said, “and how, may I ask, did a bartender cure you?”
“He told me to cut the legs off the bed. Ain’t nothing under there now.”
A priest was invited to attend a house party. Naturally, he was properly dressed and wearing his priest’s collar.
A little boy kept staring at him the entire evening. Finally, the priest asked the little boy what he was staring at. The little boy pointed to the priest’s neck.
When the priest finally realized what the boy was pointing at, he asked him, “Do you know why I am wearing that?”
The boy nodded his head yes, and replied, “It kills fleas and ticks for up to three months.”
We were dressed and ready to go out for a dinner & theater evening. We turned on a ‘night light’, turned the answering machine on, covered our pet parrot and put the cat in the backyard. We phoned the local taxi company and requested a cab.
The taxi arrived, and we opened the front door to leave the house.
As we walked out the door, the cat we had put out in the yard scooted back into the house. We didn’t want the cat shut in the house because she always tries to get at the parrot. My wife walked on out to the taxi, while I went back inside to get the cat.
The cat ran upstairs, with me in hot pursuit. Waiting in the cab, my wife didn’t want the driver to know that the house would be empty for the night, so she explained to the taxi driver that I would be out soon. “He’s just going upstairs to say good-by to my mother.”
A few minutes later, I got into the cab. “Sorry I took so long,” I said, as we drove away. “That stupid bitch was hiding under the bed and I had to poke her butt with a coat hanger to get her to come out. She tried to take off, so I grabbed her by the neck. Then, I had to wrap her in a blanket to keep her from scratching me. But it worked, I hauled her downstairs and threw her out into the backyard. She’d better not crap in the vegetable garden again!”
The silence in the taxi was deafening.
Barack and Michelle are at the White Sox baseball game, sitting in the first row with the Secret Service seated directly behind them. One of the Secret Service agents leans forward and says something to the President. Barack stares at the agent, looks at Michelle, looks back at the agent, and shakes his head.
The agent then says “Mr. President, it was a request from the team owner who is a big campaign contributor, and the fans will love it!” So, Barack shrugs and says “Well, if it will help my poll numbers.” He gets up, grabs Michelle by her collar and the seat of her pants and drops her right over the wall into the field.
She gets up kicking, screaming & swearing. The crowd goes wild; cheering, applauding, and high-fiveing. Barack is bowing and smiling, and leans over to the agent and says “You were right, I would have never believed that!” Noticing the agent has gone totally pale, Barack asks what was wrong.
The agent replies “Sir, I said, they want you to throw out the first ………PITCH!!!”
We have the standard 6 ft. fence in the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire city. To make sure this never happened to me; I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of. I bought the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground rod, and drove it 7.5 ft into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.
One day I’m mowing the back yard with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger, so I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way. It seems as though I hadn’t remembered to unplug it after all.
Now I’m standing there, I’ve got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.
Time stood still.
The first thing I notice is my belly button started to turn inside out making my T-shirt billow up. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine. It seems as though the fence charger and the cheapo lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.
Science says you cannot crap, pee, and vomit at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and you’re all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times. It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together. It was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand.
At this point I’m about 2 seconds (seems like 30 minutes) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can’t let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences. But Dad always had a crappy charger made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled. This one I could not let go of. The 8 ft. long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex River bottom soil.
At this point I’m thinking I’m going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas. ‘Damn!,’ I think, as I remember I just filled the tank! Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop, pee, and puke on my chest, I think ‘Oh God please die… Pleeeeaze die’. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner’s right foot.
So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, and standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day.. He left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created.
I honestly don’t know how I got loose from the wire. I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned. There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire.
Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things:
1 – Three of the fillings in my teeth have melted.
2 – I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right).
3 – Poop, pee, and puke when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.
4 – My left eye will not open.
5 – My right eye will not close.
6 – The lawnmower runs like a sumbitch now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.
7 – If a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him.