Legal or Illegal?

The unsettling news of the day, Sunday, Autumn Years Rest Home:

Frank: “Well, it looks like the government can’t figure out what the heck to do. I guess we won’t be getting our social security checks this month.”

George: “Then I guess the Home won’t be getting their money either.”

Pat: “And we won’t be doing any shopping, so the stores will be in trouble too.”

Minnie: “And our bus trips will be cancelled, so the casinos will close up, without seniors.”

Wolf: “Geez. I am almost out of wine. This is an abomination.”

Tina: “I need my meds. Now what?”

Jimmy: “We could move to one of those 3rd world countries, that the US has given billions to.”

Gordon: “Heck, we soon will be a 3rd world country. I have a feeling that the whole country will close down. And we Seniors will be out looking for jobs.”

Wolf: “Jobs? What jobs? There are millions unemployed now. There are no jobs.”

Minnie: “Well, we could look on the bright side. This too shall pass.”

George: “Bright? Are you kidding? Name one thing that is bright about this.”

Minnie: “You know what they say, misery loves company. And this issue is bringing us all closer together. We can commiserate with one another and come up with a plan.”

Wolf: “I say, let’s unite and get our butts down to Washington DC, and stage a throw down.”

Frank: “You have been watching the cooking channel way too much. Throw down? Don’t you mean a demonstration?”

Wolf: “Nope. I mean a throw down. We either get our money or we throw ourselves down on the white house lawn and camp.”

George: “You know what? That could work! When congress sees a bunch of old, starving, miserable seniors, they will have to do something about it.”

Gordon: “Naw. They have known about our condition for years, and never did anything about it. And we are all legal citizens, right?”

Wolf: “You’re right Gordon. Burn your passports, gang. We are going to DC.”



Waiting for Ms Yellie’s 10th Life

Yellie is dying. She lived through her 9 lives in 16 years. Now the end is near. She wanted to be outdoors this past week, soaking in the heat of the blazing sun, stretched out on the deck, her eyes blind, and her body barely functioning.

She is a runt. Petite. And a perfect target for all the other cats and dogs that she known throughout her life. Everyone picked on Yellie. She tried to be invisible, hoping that the predators would ignore her. She just wanted to live a peaceful life, exploring the yard and the trees and napping in the sun. When she was through with her daily routine, she would be waiting, patiently, at the door, to come in for her dinner.

She was never any trouble. She loved attention, but not too much. She let us know when she had had enough, and moved on, to find a quiet place in the house, where she could nap. She wasn’t a playful cat either. She would watch as the other cats played with their toys, but she wasn’t interested in joining them.

She was an actress, Yellie was. When she wanted a treat, she didn’t make a sound. She just stared and stared, until your eyes met hers. That was her silent way of communicating. Then when the treat was brought to her, she would turn her head, pretending not to notice the treat. After a few minutes, she would slowly turn to her treats and act surprised. “Oh a treat! How nice!”

In her later years, she developed another trick…for her treats. She knew that whenever she came back inside, she would get a treat. She would stand by the door, to get outside, several times a day. And after being outdoors for less than 2 minutes, she was back. And yes, she got her treat.

Yellie loved to watch the birds. And she occasionally stalked one of them, and captured it. Yet, we had parakeets and she never bothered them. She seemed to realize that the caged birds were her siblings, and left them alone.

For all her years of being tormented by the other animals in the house, Yellie was never seriously harmed. The only time she went to the Vet was when she had sinus problems and seemed to be on a hunger strike. Her tiny body is in near perfect condition as she waits for the end, but she is wasting away, barely breathing, knowing the 10th life is near.

Good bye, Yellow Belly, better known as Miss Yellie. You will live in our hearts forever. I only hope there are treats in heaven.


Big Bertha

There was no turning back. The secrets spilled out. It was Minnie’s turn to fess up.

“You all know I am an honest person. And I have always been truthful. But now that you are revealing your skeletons, I have to bring mine out of the closet. As much as I hate to admit it, I have a serious issue that I need to get off my chest.”

Pat: “Go ahead, Minnie. Tell us. We are your friends. We understand.”

Frank: “Yeah, Minnie, do it. We always suspected you had a hidden past.”

George: “Give it up, girl. Confession is good for the soul.”

Minnie: “I am torn. Should I, or shouldn’t I? If I tell you, you will never think of me in the same way. I just don’t know.”

Wolf: “Forget it Minnie. Don’t let these idiots into your soul. You will regret it.”

Minnie: “I just don’t know. I think I will sleep on it. I will let you know in the morning.”

After Minnie left the room, the residents speculated on Minnie’s past.

Gordon: “You know what? I think Minnie was a call girl. That’s what she is afraid to reveal.”

George: “No way. I have a feeling she was a playboy bunny. Did you notice how she hopped out of the room?”

Pat: “In my humble opinion, I think Minnie was a man in a former life. Have you noticed the size of her feet?”

Wolf; “Knock it off, all of you. Minnie has not told us what it is she is concerned about. Reserve your opinions until she decides to tell us what her secret is.”

At breakfast, the next morning, everyone waited for Minnie to speak up.

Minnie: “I guess you are wondering what I have to say, right? Well, I have decided that some things are not to be shared. But I will give you one hint. And then I am leaving.”

Pat: “Go ahead, Minnie. Spill it girl.”

Minnie: “J Lo.”

Pat: “Huh? Give us one more hint.”

Minnie: “Implant.”

With that, Minnie left the room, her hind end, bouncing.

The residents stared at Minnie’s butt. Did she? Or didn’t she? Only her butt knows for sure.



Did you ever do something you didn’t want anyone to know about?
Wolf popped the question at dinner, Wednesday night, at the Autumn Years Rest Home.

Frank: “Why should I admit it? I mean, it was years ago. I have never told anyone about it. Why should I tell you now?”

Pat: “Go ahead. Tell us. You are so old now that you should really get it off your chest. You can trust us.”

Frank: “Well, I guess it’s ok. I did a very bad thing. I decided to vote in the presidential election, and, as you know, I am a Democrat. Well, I voted Republican. And guess who got in?”

George: “Abe Lincoln?”

Frank: “Very funny, no, you goof. Richard Nixon.”

Minnie: “No way. You should be ashamed of yourself. He was a crook.”

Gordon: “Now wait a minute. Tricky Dick went on record, saying he was not a crook. And if you recall, he loved his mother, who was a saint. And his wife wore a cloth coat. And the only thing he ever took as a gift was a dog.”

Jimmy: “His daughters were pretty hot. But that wife of his, my God! She must have sucked on lemons. What a snoot.”

Gloria: “Can I say something?”

Minnie: “Sure, go ahead.”

Gloria: “Nixon was a lunatic. I mean, did you see the way he gave the peace sign when he was booted out of office. I think he was drunk as a skunk.”

Wolf: “So, I assume you all think your vote can make a difference.”

Minnie: “Yes, Wolf. In spite of your skepticism, one vote can make a difference.”

George: “And to prove it, there are 13 of us here, tonight. Those in favor of re-electing Obama, raise your hands.”

Wolf: “Wait! What is the other option?”

George: “Sarah.”

Minnie: “Ok. Those in favor of Obama?”

No hands.

Minnie: “Hmmm, those for Sarah?”

No hands.

Wolf: “Those in favor of Betty White?”

13 votes.


A hunk a hunk of burning love

Have you ever had a yearning, a desire, an uncontrollable urge for something? Wolf does.

Wolf: Geez, I can’t stand it any longer. If I don’t have my lefse, I will go crazy.”

Minnie: “What the heck are you talking about? What is lefse?”

Pat: “Must be something kinky. Wolf is hot to trot for it, whatever it is.”

Frank: “Don’t go there Wolf. We really don’t want to hear about your burning desires. Whatever it is, get on the internet. You can find anything there.”

George: “Hey Wolf, I have quite a few of those sites in my favorites. I will send them to you.”

Wolf: “No, you idiots. You won’t find lefse on those sites.”

Gordon: “You can talk to me, Wolf. Let’s go out on the patio. I am a hell of a good listener, and I might be able to give you a few pointers.”

Wolf: “What a hoot. Like you can tell me about lefse.”

Gordon: “Like I said, give me a chance. You might get lucky.”

Wolf: “Get lost Gordon. I need to make some mashed potatoes.”

Pat: “OMG. Can you imagine what she will do with those potatoes? Unthinkable!”

Minnie: “What on earth has gotten into you Wolf? You are really losing it, girrrrrrrrrrl.”

Wolf: “Find the flour for me, Minnie, will you? And the rolling pin.”

Minnie: “No way Wolf. I will not be a witness to your wild desires.”

Wolf laughed and said: “Yeah, you’re right. I am a horny toad. Excuse me, I am on a mission.”

The residents shook their heads and clucked: “What a shame. Wolf has really gone down hill. You think she needs therapy? She really needs to see a shrink. She should be under scrutiny. She is a flaming mess.”

Wolf mashed the potatoes, rolled them out and browned the lefse. She spread butter and sugar over the lefse and rolled them up. And she ate to her hearts’ content. When she had finished, she entered the TV room with a smile on her face.

The residents asked her if she wanted a cigarette.


It’s a rainy night in Georgia…

It finally rained. The residents of the Autumn Years Rest Home grumbled. They had been hoping for rain for weeks, but not this much.

Minnie: “Why can’t we have a nice day of showers, instead of these drenching downpours?”

Wolf: “Quit your bellyaching. We need the rain, so zip it.”

George: “Funny how the rain is always a topic of conversation. Either we love it or hate it. Just like the songs.”

Wolf: “What songs?”

George: “Are you kidding? There are tons of songs about rain. Come on, everyone, chime in. Name some songs about rain.”

Pat: “Me first. I love Singing in the rain. Such a great classic movie, too.”

Gordon: “Eddie Rabbit is my favorite, I love a rainy night.”

Jimmy: “How about the country song, “I’m no stranger to the rain.”

Minnie: “The best was Raindrops keep falling on my head.”

Gloria: “I loved it when Julie Andrews sang The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.”

Frank: “Give me CCC any day, Have you ever seen the rain?”

Tina: “Remember Barbra Streisand when she sang Don’t rain on my parade?”

Wolf: “My favorite is relatively unknown: Steve Young sang it: I just want to see Montgomery in the rain.”

McCracken, the janitor came in and said, “Hey what’ s all this talk about rain? Don’t you know that people in Seattle are killing themselves over the rain?”

The Director stormed in behind McCracken and looked like she had had a tough weekend. She goosed him and walked toward the door.

Wolf: “Hey what’s with you? Do I detect a crabapple attitude today?”

The Director: “Yeah, Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.”



The residents of the Autumn Years Rest Home were waiting for the NASCAR race to begin.

Minnie: “Why are we watching a bunch of cars going around and around. It’s boring.”

Wolf: “No it isn’t. We are waiting for a crash. That’s the best part. And then we can all pray no one got hurt.”

George: I prefer hockey. I love it when they fight. None of those boys has any teeth left. They knock the #%@#% out of each other.

Frank: “Naw, I like football. Sack the quarterback. That’s what I like. It’s a brutal game.”

Pat: “You are all animals. It is disgusting.”

Gloria: “Right, Pat. That’s why you watch something civilized, like your favorite shows, all those True TV murder cases.”

Jimmy: “Settle down everyone. Let’s get serious. CNN has all the best stuff. Just look at what happened in Norway. It is such a shame, but I must admit, I can’t stop watching it.”

Tina: “I want to watch a movie. Let’s see what’s on: Ben Hur, The Rise and Fall of the third Reich, Platoon, A Clockwork Orange, Cape Fear, or Bambi.”

Gordon: “I refuse to watch anything that depicts animals who are in distress. They are harmless creatures. If you turn on Bambi, I will not be watching it. Don’t even go there. It is barbaric.”

The age old discussion ensued: Animals should be protected, but what about people? Why do we feel detached when it comes to our fellow humans, but we become enraged when an animal is abused?

The clock was ticking. A decision was up for grabs.

Wolf: “Ok. Let’s take a vote: Those who want to watch Bambi, raise their hands”

One vote.

Wolf: “Hey wait, there is a marathon of the Godfather playing. Raise your hands if you want to watch it.”

An overwhelming majority agreed. There is nothing like a good clean movie about American life.


A skunk smells his own pew

Wednesday evening, Autumn Years Rest Home:

Everyone was hot. 97 degrees again today. No relief in sight. Full moon. Nothing good on TV. It was the setting for a perfect storm.

Pat: “Hey you, Wolf. I have been meaning to ask you this, and tonight seems to be the perfect time. Why do you snort when you laugh? Are you trying to act like Miss Piggie? And just so you know, Miss Piggie is a hog. And a lot better looking than you are.”

Minnie: “Quit picking on Wolf. She can’t help it if she resembles a pig. None of us, except of course, for me, has natural born beauty.”

Frank: “Ha! You should talk Minnie. You are a dawg, girl. A real dawg. Woof Woof.”

George: “Let’s face it, folks. I am the only one who has good looks. Men always age more gracefully than women. And my looks make all of you look sick. I am hot.”

Gloria: “Good looking? Give it up George. You are a shriveled up old weiner. And your tics are irritating.”

George: “What tics?”

Gloria: “Sniff. Sniff. You are always sniffing before you say something.”

Gordon: “I guess I am the only one who has no faults. But you don’t hear me complaining about my pet peeves.”

Wolf: “Geez Gordon. You are the stinkiest person in this home. You are the ultimate gas bag. And you are sneaky too. Silent, but deadly. Why do you think we grab our gas masks when you enter the room?”

Miss Ratcher, the Director, entered the room. “Good evening, all. We have a potential new resident who will be interacting with you tonight to see if she would like to live here. I trust that you will make her feel welcome. I would like to introduce you to Marianne.”
As Marianne made the rounds, the sniffing, snorting and flatulence was overwhelming. Ms Ratcher took Marianne by the hand as she left the building: “It was a pleasure meeting you Marianne. We hope you will decide to live with our family here, at the Autumn Years Rest Home.”

Marianne: “(Sniff, sniff) Thank you so much Ms Ratchet, ( snort, snort.) You will be hearing from me. (Fart fart.)”

Wolf: “Yikes. I take back everything I said about you all. Now there is a woman who makes all of us look good. How can any one person have all those issues?”

Minnie: “Right on Wolf. She is a mess.”

George: “But did you see the way she looked at me? She has the hots for me.”

Gordon: “Yeah, and I really like her perfume.”


2 word firestorm

Autumn Years Rest Home, Sunday night:

“Hey Wolf, what’s up? You are so quiet tonight.”


“Why? Something wrong?”


“Come on, it’s not like you to give one word answers. Are you feeling ok?”


Can you say something beside yep and nope?”


“Well, I guess you are being a jerk again. Here is your last chance. Are you OK?”


“Give it up, Minnie, she is being a pain in the ass. She wants you to keep asking her what’s wrong. Just ignore the old fart.”

“Keep out of this Pat. This is between Wolf and me. And I know something is bothering her. So bug out.”

“Of all the nerve! I was just trying to be helpful.”

“Give it a rest Pat. I know Wolf and this is not like her.”

“Ok, let me ask her: Hey you idiot, Wolf, why are you acting like a moron? Are you sick or something?”


The cook entered the dining room to announce that someone had raided the kitchen and all the ice cream was missing. “Who ate it? That was going to be our dessert.”

No one admitted to eating the ice cream. The cook took a look at Wolf and said, “Hey you, Wolf woman, you aren’t saying anything. Did you eat the ice cream?”


“All of it?”


“2 half gallons?”


“You spoiled the dessert. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”


The residents were mad as hell. It was a hot evening and they were looking forward to ice cream.

Frank: “You hog! Are you crazy?”


George: “My God, woman, you must be bloated as hell.”


“Geez Wolf, don’t you care that we won’t be getting dessert?”


Everyone glared at Wolf as she waddled out of the dining room. A carton of empty ice cream had attached itself to her hind end. She had sat on it, when she attempted to hide the crime.”

“Hey Wolf, did you know you have an empty container hanging on your heiney?”


“And there is still some ice cream in it. It is melting up a storm. And you have several napkins hanging off the carton. My God woman, did you know that you are the laughing stock of this home?”


The residents shook their heads in disgust. Wolf did it again. She started a firestorm again, this time, with only 2 words.

Is there a moral to this story?



And the Oscar goes to…..

Saturday night: Autumn Years Rest Home

“Hey Wolf, let’s do something fun. It’s Saturday night.”

“OK Minnie, let’s do it. How about a game. Get everyone together. We will play ‘guess the movie.’”

The residents had played this game before. Someone mentions a phrase from a movie and everyone gets a chance to guess the movie.

First up, Gordon.

“Phone home.”

“Oh for dumb. Everyone knows that is ET. Get the heck out, Gordon. You are so mundane.”

Next, Minnie: “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

“Get lost Minnie. If you can’t come up with something better than that, you must be retarded.”

Pat: “Make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

“OMG. You can’t be serious. And you call yourself an intelligent person?”

Frank: (howling) “Putting on the Ritz”

“Geez, you look just like Frankenstein, you idiot. Next.”

George: “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

“I am sorry you even mentioned that one. Good grief. Can’t you make this a little more interesting?”

Jimmy: “Ok, no one will guess this one: ‘Every time a bell rings….”

“Pulllllease. Next.”

Gloria: “Surely. And don’t call me Shirley.”

“You know what? You are all idiots. I quit.”

“Well, if you are such a smarty pants, go ahead Wolf. Give us your best shot.”

Wolf: “Ok, here it goes: ‘You’re damn right I did.”

“Huh? Give us a hint.”


“Jack who?”


“The Shining?”


“5 Easy pieces?”


“The witches of Eastwick?”


“We give up.”

“You goofs. We just watched it last night.”

“Oh right! It was on the evening news, right? Obama said it. Someone asked him if he walked out on congress and he said, “You’re damn right I did.”

“I don’t get it. Was that Obama or Jack? We thought you were talking about a movie.”

Wolf: “I think we have a failure to communicate.”

“Now you’re talking, Wolf! We all know that one: “Cool hand Luke.”