Tidbits of wisdom overheard on a Monday, November 9, 2015.
- My mother was a Mennonite. She grew up believing that dancing and movies were bad. She got pregnant instead.
- I see Kelly has another birthday cake. That makes number 8. This one is an ice cream cake, and it is having a melt down. Reminds me of a carved pumpkin the day after Halloween. Can someone please take that cake out back and shoot it?
- I have anger issues. You do? I am so sorry. That is one thing I don’t have. Yeah? Well, that’s because you are always half in the bag.
- Excuse me, got a minute? No. Can I ask you something. Make it snappy. Where can I get a big one like you have? Why of all the nerve! No, no, I meant where did you get those big buns? Hello, Human Resources?
- Ring ring. Hello. Wolf? It’s me, your doctor. We have not yet received your samples in our lab. You know what I am talking about. Hello?
- Coughing spell. Bad one. As it ensues, the questions arise: Are you sick? Are you ok? Do you need water? Can I help you? Coughing spell continues. Do you have cough drops? You don’t sound good. Are you going to make it? Coughing subsides. Finally able to answer: I knew I picked the wrong week to stop smoking weed.
- Cat is waiting at the door. Let me in. Ok, come on in. He stares at me, stalks me. I say, “what?” He keeps staring. I feed him. He eats and then approaches me, never blinking. I change his water. Give him dry food. He eats, drinks and stares. Ok, would you like some treats? He eats the treats and then stares at me. Now what? He stands at the door, crying. I let him out. 5 minutes later, he is back. I let him in. He is staring. I can’t take this staring. I crawl into bed. He jumps up beside me, stretches out on my pillow, purring his ass off. Ever so gently, I try to move him. He opens one eye and communicates in that non verbal way that cats do: “Don’t you even think about it.” I feel a coughing spell coming on. I am doomed. The cat calls on his feline buddies, and hurl their stones: Death is ruled as a “cat” astrophy.
Stoned at last. The secret of life: Whatever you do, you will get stoned:
Let us all rejoice in the life of an ordinary chicken butt, who never did quite play with a full deck:
They’ll stone ya just a-like they said they would
They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to go home
Then they’ll stone ya when you’re there all alone
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned