What kind of pop do you have?

“Howling, Minnie.  The wind is howling.”


“You said ‘hauling.'”


“I did not.  I said howling.”


“You mid westerners have the strangest accents.   The other night you said you were having feesh for dinner.”


“Yeah, I did.  I had fish.”


“And you say route beer, not root beer.”


“Hold it.  You say I am gonna warsh my clothes.  What the hell is with you Easterners?  Warsh?”


“Well, at least we don’t say crick for creek.”


“I was in the office supply store the other day and asked if they had a coffee machine.  And the idiot pointed to the copy machine.  Nobody out East understands English.”


“Yeah?  Well, I was so embarrassed when we ordered a pizza the other night.  You ordered a cheese pizza and the guy said, ‘What size pie do you want?’


“Yeah, I remember. And I distinctly told him I didn’t want a pie.  I wanted a pizza.”


“And then you said, ‘What kind of pop do you have?’  Do you remember that?  The guy said, ‘Pop?  He died last year.'”


“The worst part is trying to get a scotch and soda out here in the East.  Same question:  Soda?  Coke?  or what?”


“I can recall the other day, Wolf, when you saw a chicken hawk in the back yard. You said, ‘Look!  A hock!'”


“I least I call Cuba, Cuba.  And not Cuber.”


“By the way, it will be below zero tonight. Where did you pawk the caw?”




My wiener died

“Up at dawn.  One cup of java.  A quick shower and zoom!  At work at 630am.”


“A quick coating of snow.  Maybe an inch, Wolf.  That’s it.  And you arose at dawn to avoid it?”


“Let me tell you a little known secret, Minnie.   I don’t trust that white stuff.  It has a mind of its own.  If the forecast is for a coating, we get a blizzard. And if a blizzard is eminent, we get a blizzard.  2014 may be the year of the horse in China, Minnie, but in Pennsylvania, it is the year of the horse’s ass.  And believe me, my ass is dragging.  As a well known prophet once said, ‘E Tu Brute.'”


“What’s that supposed to mean?”


“Brutus was brutalized by the vortex. And died. And then Al Gore was gored by his ox, so he invented the internet, to brutalize the rest of the madding crowd, with his predictions of global warming.  And he died on his way to Atlanta in an ice storm.”


“Oh for crazy!”
“And Bill Clinton emerged, from the grip of the ice queen, to rise to the presidency, and the rise of other bodily parts, only to be stricken by a big mac, in a snow storm.”


“Where is this story going?”


“I wish I were an Oscar Meyer wiener, Minnie.  Frozen wieners, like storms,  don’t last forever, do they?”


“Nothing lasts forever, Wolf.  Not even snow storms.”


“I wish I could believe that, Minnie.  But I can’t.”


“Why not?”


“I buried my wiener last night, Minnie. At the end of the driveway…. in a snow bank.”








If you can’t keep up, get out of the kitchen

“Jumping jack flash, Mexican jumping bean, rabbit on crack.  That was me today, Minnie.  I did more hopping around than Mick Jagger or Steven Tyler ever did on tour.  Up and down, round and round.  Bugs bunny would have been proud.”


“Wait a minute.  A customer service job?  Isn’t that a sedentary position?  I picture a CSR sitting in a cube, eating Cheetos, with a head set, answering calls while chained to the desk.”


“Not this cowgirl.  I have an unusual job.  It’s called gopher.  Go here, go there, find this, fix that, schmooze, and collaborate.  And walk a hundred miles, over the same terrain, day in and day out.  Find the folder in one of 40 file cabinets.  Hurry up and get those orders out to production.  Slink into your office chair, to answer 14 instant messages, all urgent, of course.  Track down those orders. Get them out tonight.  Quell the screaming beasts.  Everything is urgent, an emergency, a priority.”


“It’s called the American way of doing business, Wolf.  Do it.  And do it now.  Make it happen.  If you can’t keep up, then get out of the kitchen.  Or something like that.”


“You know, Minnie, tomorrow, no one will care what happened today.  It will be yesterday.  And the only thing that matters is what you do today.”


“It’s like life, Wolf.  Live in the moment.  Do what you can now.  Seize the opportunity.  Don’t dwell on your past accomplishments.  Keep up with the Kardashians.  And above all, always wear steel toed shoes in the warehouse.  One never knows what evil is lurking for those toes.”


“I always wear my steel toes, Minnie.  They look so glamorous.  Today, I wore my grizzly bear coat and steel toes.  I was hot.”


“You wore a fur coat to work?”


“Yes. And thank goodness, bear hunting season is in a slump.  But I did run into a few poachers tonight.  They were half in the bag, however, and missed.”


“Be positive, Wolf.  Tomorrow is hump day.  As they say, ‘I’d walk a mile for a camel.'”


“Come on, Minnie.  That is so trite.  I will walk a mile for a camel when hell freezes over.”


“Have you listened to the weather forecast, Wolf?”


“No.  Why?”


“The polar vortex is back.  Hell is frozen.”






A hoagie? Or a sub?

“What’s the difference, Minnie, between a hoagie and a sub?  Or a grinder?  I don’t get it. All I want is a Dagwood sandwich.”


“It’s all the same, Wolf. It just depends on where you live.”


“Then there is pizza.   If I order a pizza in Chicago, I get one of those deep dish jobs.  And in Minnesota, I get a Sammy’s special.   Jersey claims to have the best pizza in the world. It’s all in the crust, I guess.   I prefer the thin crust, but I really love the white pizza, with garlic, oil, tomatoes and no sauce. Just lots of cheese.  I wonder if there are too many choices in this life of pizzas and hoagies.”


“You could go to California, Wolf.  And get a fat free, sugar free, organic salad, with no bread.  And a baked yam on the side.  Then hop right over to Newport Beach and hang out in your bikini.  Or you could slither to New Orleans, order a couple dozen oysters,  with a side of Cajun shrimp, and take your martini to go.  They love to get rid of your ass in New Orleans.”


“I am hungry for a damn good steak, Minnie. Where should I go?’


“Nebraska, Wolf.  Omaha. Just ask Peyton Manning.”


“And I am dying for some good old fashioned chicken. The fried variety.”


“Georgia, Mississippi or South Carolina.  No contest.”












“Jello?  Oh please.  Iowa.”


“And if I want some exotic morsel?”


“You mean like a escargot?”


“No, I don’t like chewing on rubber.  I prefer to smoke my morsel.”


“So that’s what it’s all about.  Weed.  Ok, Wolf,  Colorado or Washington.”


“Only one problem, Minnie.  If I lived there, I would be hungry all the time.”




“So, what should I order?  A hoagie or a sub?”







What happened to the other beer?

“When people get old, do they really shrink?”


“Of course they do.  My mother, who was 5 ft 1, in her prime, was only 3 ft 4 when she died.”


“Oh she was not.”


“Well, it seemed that way.  And look at you, Minnie.  You used to be the jolly green giant.  You turned into the crabby mauve munchkin.”


“Crabby?  What’s that got to do with shrinking?”


“Old people get crotchety, Minnie.  And shrink.  However, to your credit, you kept the same weight.  It just blew out your sides.”


“I have to admit, Wolf, I am getting a little forgetful.   I just went out to the kitchen and forgot why.”


“Yeah.  I did that too. But then, I realized, I didn’t wash the dishes, so I blamed it on old age and poured another glass of wine.”


“Have you ever had this happen:  You run into someone in the mall, and you can’t, for the life of you, remember who the hell it is. And you have a long conversation and never do remember who you were talking to?”


“Just be thankful you were alone.  Try introducing this unknown person to a friend.”


“I had a very awkward moment yesterday, Wolf.  I went to order to my meds and could not recall the name of the damn pills.”


“Heck, Minnie.  Just tell them you need your medical marijuana.  Throw those damn pills away.”


“It seems to me, Wolf, that you are self medicating yourself.  You know weed is prohibited in Pennsylvania.”


“I guess you haven’t been to Philly or Allentown or Reading lately, have you Minnie?”


“Well, I am quite concerned about my mind, Wolf.  I can remember what happened 30 years ago, as if it was yesterday.  But don’t ask me what I had for supper last night.”


“That’s because you didn’t eat, you idiot.  We drank 29 beers and blacked out.”


“You know I don’t drink.”


“Oh yeah.  Well, I drank 28 of them.  What happened to the other one?”


“You are drinking it now.”


“I am? ”


“See?  Your mind is shot, too.   But then, you never did have much of a mind.”


“Can I ask you something, Minnie?”


“I guess.”


“What were we talking about?  I forget.”




30 rolling brews

“What kind of a ridiculous hair cut is that, Wolf?  It looks like someone put a bowl on your head and cut around it.”


“Shut up, Minnie.  I like it.  I am drop dead gorgeous in this new do.”


“If you were 5 years old, it might be cute, but on an old bag, it is very strange.”


“I will have you know I spent $19 to look this great.”


“What happened to you today, anyway?  You are soaking wet and your shoes are caked with mud.”


“Excuse me?  As you know, I have not been grocery shopping in 2 weeks.  I had to run errands, you idiot, so you can stuff your pie hole.  And it was mild today, for a change.  And as I was trudging up the driveway with a case of beer and my wine bag, the ice had turned to mud, and I fell.  Now, any more questions?”


“What happened to the beer and wine?”


“If you must know, the case of beer opened up and 30 cans of brew were rolling down towards the road. I slithered through the mud and retrieved all but one.”


“What happened to that can?”


“I drank it.  In the mud.”


“Where are the groceries and the wine?”


“The wine is safe and sound.  As for the groceries, there are 12 bags sitting outside, in the mud, at the end of the driveway.”


“You left the groceries outside?  What the hell?”


“Yeah. It’s supposed to snow tonight.  I am waiting for the mud to turn to snow and them I am gonna get them.  I refuse to deal with that damn mud.   Besides, I did bring up the essentials, so what’s the problem?”


“Here you are, in your pjs, drinking wine, with 12 bags of food in the mud.  You have no intention of retrieving those bags tonight, do you?”


“Yes I do.  I am just waiting for it to get dark.”




“I don’t want anyone to see me with this new hair do.”



Faith, hope, love and charity

“Something wonderful happened today, Minnie.  The sun came out.  Not for long, but it did peek out for about an hour.  And it melted the snow.”


“Have you looked outside lately, Wolf?  There are drifts and piles of that white abomination all over the place, and they are at least 4 feet high.”


“Not any more.  I think they shrunk at least an inch.”


“Yeah, well, at that rate, you can expect to see it completely melt by June.”


“And I ate 2 of the most wonderful dogs today.  Big ones.  I love long wieners.”


“Oh for dumb.  So the melting inch of snow and the giant wieners made your day?”


“Yes.  The sun brought back hope in my life. And the wieners gave me faith.”


“Faith?  In what?”


“That the world might be full of small wieners, but it is wise to wait for the long ones.”


“What about love?”


“I was on a conference call and someone forgot to mute. And whoever it was, went to the bathroom and peed.  And then flushed.  The 50 people on the call never said a word.  Well, they were all on mute, I guess.  Anyway, it brought back love into my life.”


“What the hell?”


“I love a wild conference call.  We may forget what the call was about, but we will never forget the peeing idiot.  I think it made the rest of us bond.  We are forever tuned in to that moment.  And isn’t that what love is all about?”


“Bonded by a flush?  Oh for crazy.”


“Yup.  I had a biblical day.  Faith, hope and love.”


“You forgot charity.”


“No I didn’t.  I gave at work.”


“Gave? What?”


“I showed up.  First full week in 3 months.  And I must say, the longest week in the history of charity.  I hate to say it, but we better have another snow storm soon. I can’t handle these 5 day work weeks.”




A head of lettuce

“Well, I have decided I don’t like buffalo, Minnie.”


“You ran into a buffalo today?  or what?”


“No.  I ate a buffalo.  It was Erica’s buff. I thought it was mine.  But I ate her buffalo.”


“What was Erica doing with a buffalo at work?  And was he alive?”


“No.  He was on a slice of pizza, chopped up in little humps.  I thought it was the slice I had ordered, a margarita pizza slice.”


“Are you sure it wasn’t camel humps?”


“The last camel I ate was not that spicy.  Just very watery.”


“Ok.  So you ordered a slice and Erica ordered a slice and you ate hers?”


“Yes.  I ate it.  And I have not been right since.  I called the airlines and booked a flight to Montana, to meet the relatives of that humpy buffalo I devoured.”


“Did Erica eat your slice of margarita pizza?”


“No.  I ate that too.  Erica was out in the shipping office, dinking around with Chris and Aggie.  And when the pizza was delivered, my hand inadvertently grabbed the wrong slice.  You know what?  When a buffalo is chopped up, it is amazingly similar to a margarita laced slice.  They both have crust, and cheese and those humpy things.  I had my blue sunglasses on and I thought the humps were tomatoes.  So I ate it.”


“I bet Erica had a blazing fit of Tourette’s when she realized you had chomped on her chopped buffalo.”


“She did. But I quickly recovered.  I offered her a slice of my 16 inch meatball sub.”


“Did she accept?”


“Yes, but I had already eaten it.  So she ate a head of lettuce.”


“When you say you haven’t been right since, what symptoms do you  have?”


“I drank several gallons of water and am bloated beyond recognition.  I walk around on all 4’s and if you haven’t noticed, there are 2 humps protruding from my back side.”


“Oh for crazy!”


“Wait. You haven’t heard the worst part.  I can’t wait for next Wednesday.”




A greased weasel

“Wolf, before you get started on your rant about the weather, can you reflect on something else?  I am tired of hearing about the freezing rain, the piles of snow, the icy driveway and the black ice.  Besides, I heard you last night.  You were up at 3am, 4am, 5am, checking to see if the freezing rain had started.  And I watched you at the end of the driveway, backing up into the pile of snow the plow left.  You are haggard, stressed and depressed.  You need to think about the positive things that happened today.”

“Yeah, ok.  I walked out this morning and several icicles fell off the deck, making the trek down the driveway treacherous.  I hopped over a snow bank and landed on my hind end.  I was cold, soaking wet and sliding around like a greased weasel.  The car was tucked into a narrow tunnel, surrounded by snow banks 4 feet high.  My defroster was sluggish.  The windows were full of those little icons of snow flakes, but I had to beat the freezing rain, so I drove off in a blaze of glory, at 5 mph, with severely limited vision.  The pot holes multiplied over night, and I hit every one of them.”

“See what I mean? You are obsessed with this weather thing.”

“How can I not be?  It’s getting to be an every day event.  It’s either brutally cold, snowing like a son of a gun, or it warms up to 31 degrees and we get freezing precipitation.  Now tonight, freezing fog is on its way, whatever that is.  And tomorrow?  Thunder storms. What the hell?”

“It’s the 4th season, Wolf, just like life.  When it’s spring, you are young and fresh and growing.  In summer, you are ripe and hot and steamy.  In autumn, you are mellow, cool, calm and collected.  And in winter, well, you are old and weary.  Your spirit is tested.  Only the strong survive.”

“What happens if you are weak?  And survival is a struggle?”

“You move to Florida and sweat your ass off, stay inside with an air conditioner blasting and miss all the excitement of spring, autumn and winter.  You live in a perpetual state of high humidity, and an occasional hurricane.  You retire from life.”

“I couldn’t handle that, Minnie.  I am not ready to retire from life.”

“Even after this winter?”

“Well, on second thought……”


Tiny dancer

“Did you know that according to bus drivers, the stormiest week of the year is the week of President’s day?”


“Yup.  The weekend was messy.  This morning was a disaster.  And now tomorrow, a freezing rain advisory from 7am til noon.”


“Was it worth it? Staying at a hotel close to the office last night?”


“I can’t really remember.  I forgot my toothbrush, so I called the front desk, where they had toothpaste and a brush waiting for me.  On my way back to the elevator, I noticed a bar.  So I ordered a glass of wine.  It was served in a 12 ounce plastic cup, so it could be carried back to the room.  $5 bucks for a full glass.   I drank that baby, opened a book I had planned to read, and then the next thing I knew, I was awake.  It was 5am, and the snow was falling.  I left my car in the parking lot and Chubs picked me up, to drive me into work.”


“Who’s Chubs?”


“An Irish, spoiled skinny princess,  who must certainly be the prototype of  Elton John’s tiny dancer. And can she drive a truck!  She whizzed through the streets of winter hell and delivered the queen to her throne.”


“Who’s gonna drive the so called queen to work tomorrow?”


“The queen is too precious to venture out in frozen rain drops, Minnie.  Hell, I couldn’t even drive the car up our driveway tonight.   The queen was forced to walk, carrying  a case of brew and a tuna hoagie up that 2 mile driveway.”


“Some queen you are, Wolf.  Are you sure you haven’t turned into the ice queen?  Since when is a little freezing drizzle going to break your spirit?”


“Do we have any 12 ounce plastic cups, Minnie?”




“Fill it up, girl.   It’s only 730pm.  And bring me a book.  The queen is having an instant replay.  By 5am, I am outta here, and will beat the freezing rain.”


“Where in the world are you getting your inspiration?”


“I have to go to work tomorrow, Minnie.”




“Oscar is bringing in dunkin doughnuts.”