Duck Duck Goose

I think I need to schedule an appointment with my doctor.

My problem is becoming an obsession.

It is a growing concern.

I have a goose problem.

No, I don’t have any geese.

It’s worse than that.

And it isn’t because a goose chased me when I got out of my car, hissing and squawking as I tried to fend him off with an umbrella.

Actually, I like the way Mom and Pop goose are faithful companions for life, and are wonderful parents.

When the babies are born, they are the cutest little geese (or is it goslings), as they waddle in formation, creating traffic jams.

I believe my problem stems from the unfiltered behavior that has creeped into my life.

I goose people.

And not just people I know.

My hand just hovers around the target, and goes wild.

The victims usually say the same thing:  “You goosed me!”

No %@#%@#%.

I can’t leave a gathering until I have fulfilled my feathery fetish.

Until I see the Doc, I am wearing mittens, so my hand is severely limited in the art of goosing.

I wonder if there is an AGA:  Anonymous Goose Association:  “ Hello, my name is Chicken Butt and I goose people.”

The best part about my irresistible urge is that I like it.

You know what they say:  “Find your passion and go for it’.

I am cancelling my Dr Appointment.

Wolf

What an idiot

Was I born yesterday or what?

It’s good to have young friends who can explain what the heck is going on.

Oh gullible me!

1.  I believed that ring toss was similar to a corn hole game.

Truth:  Size does matter.

•    Old people are not into dating web sites to find a “companion.”

Truth:  Only Tinder.  Tsk Tsk.

•     Someone took my pickle at lunch.  I said: “Give me my pickle back.”

Truth:  I got a shot of Jameson and some pickle juice.

•    I ordered a handbag with a concealer.

      Truth:  The makeup never arrived.

•  A trip to Florida would be nice, to see what the scoop is on the sarcasm.

Truth:  “it’s sargassum, you idiot.”

Can someone please take me out back and shoot me?

Wolf

Say what?

Pennsylvania has the craziest location pronunciations.

Try asking for directions.

The natives will gleefully correct you, as they peg you as a newbee.

Here are a few that I goofed up when I moved here.

I couldn’t spell some, and pronounced all of them incorrectly.

Schuylkill

New Tripoli

Lancaster

Bala Cynwyd

Wilkes -Barre

Emmaus

Greenwich

Reading

Germansville

Rehrersburg

Lititz

Manayunk

Still having trouble pronouncing Wilkes-Barre and Lititz.

And forget about spelling Schuylkill and Bala Cynwyd.

My favorite is Emmaus.   EMouse?  No, It is E may us.

We never had location issues in Minnesota:  Well, ok, maybe Bemidji.

Wolf

I want a plump one

It was supposed to be a  low key, casual party.

Up scale residential area, conservative, right wing, refined, established.

12 plus 1 attendees.

Think about this scenario.

I am at the party.

Number 13.

Abynormal, loose cannon, not so silent elephant in the room.

Try fitting into a carton for a dozen eggs when you are number 13.

The lions were in the arena, waiting for a snack:  me.

The hostess threatened to take me back to the home if I didn’t behave.

There were a few attendees I hadn’t met before.  They asked me if I was at the wrong party.

I showed everyone my pickle, but they would not show me theirs.

They talked about their high faluting jobs.  They asked me about my profession.  Glue sniffer.  One of the faluters fainted.

The hot dogs were amazing.  Not plump, but moist.  Similar to some of the guests.

I left early, explaining I had to pick up my birth control pills at the pharmacy.  Once again, cold stares coming from the faluting cage.

Reflecting on the picnic,  I felt like Cousin Eddie in Christmas Vacation.

I can’t wait til next year’s picnic.

Too bad I won’t be invited.

Xoxoxooox

Wolf

I have learned:

Lessons learned traveling along the old age trail:

1.  Wrinkles happen. 
2. Night driving is a nightmare.
3. Expect to be the 3^rd wheel.
4. The news is no longer the news, mostly opinions.
5. Social media is gathering dust.
6. Pets are family.
7. Politicians sell snake oil.
8. Trust issues inspire conspiracy theories.
9.  Violence can happen anywhere.

10. Music, reading and laughter make the journey worthwhile.

Wolf

The bigger the better

Have you ever owned a red car?

Red cars have a reputation for being stopped by the cops.

No so.

Would you believe it’s actually the white cars that hold that record.

I’m on my 5^th red car.

No trouble spotting it in a crowded parking lot, right?

Walked right up to it.

“Fobbed” it to open the door, and hopped in.

Looked around for my phone. 

Strange, I don’t see it.

The interior had magically been cleaned by a neat freak.

Hey! Wait a minute.

This is not my car.

How in the world did I get in?

This is just peachy.

I am sitting in a stranger’s car  who could show up any time now, with a car jacker inside.

Hightailed it out of there, and saw 2 more identical cars.

Luckily I picked the right one.

Whew!

Same day, walked out of a restaurant.

It was a slow night. 

Not many cars in the lot.

Geez.  I don’t remember parking on the left side.

My memory must be whacked out.

Used my fob to open the door.

Nothing.

Tried again and again.

Nope.

Sure, I bet the battery in the fob is dead.

Now what?

Walked to the front of the car and noticed my rubber chicken was not hanging on the rearview mirror.

Not again.

As they say, not my monkeys, not my circus.

I say: Not my chicken, not my car.

10 cars in the parking lot and I picked the wrong car again.

There she was :  2 doors down, as the song goes.

Putting an ad in the paper.

Wanted:  A large weiner.

Xoxooxoxo

Wolf

How long do you think he will last?

Boys in the hood:  “What did you do?  Hit a curb?”

?

Boys:  “Did you know you have 2 rips?”

?

Boys:  “Tires, girl, tires.”

Here I go again, to the car dealership.

The new guy in town, service advisor says,  “Can you show me the rips?”

“Nope.  I don’t see them.  My boyfriends spotted the rips.”

“Boyfriends?  Really? How many boyfriends?”

“Too many to mention.”

“Ok, I will take a look at the tire.”

He’s back.

“Yes, you have 2 rips.”

“Do I need to replace the tire?”

“If you were my wife, I would definitely advise it.”

“Are you proposing to me?”

“I can’t compete with all your boyfriends.  Where did you meet these guys?”

“Let’s put it this way.  I am studying to be an attorney, but… I can’t pass the bar.”

“Oh, the bar.  Which bar?  And what do you drink?”

“Coors light.”

“I drink something a lot stronger than the water you drink.”

“Yeah, ok, I will buy you a beer if I run into you.  A Bud light.”

The service department chuckled, while I looked at my tire options.

Either 2 tires, or 4, since I have a 4×4 vehicle.

“I’ll take two.”

“Can we sit down, and talk about this, Sweetheart?”

“Oh brother you are the biggest schmoozer I have ever met.  Next to me, of course.”

“Yes, I am a charmer.”

“A snake charmer who drinks Bud light, right?”

“Just one thing:  We don’t have the tires in stock.  Come back after lunch.”

“No.  I will be here tomorrow morning.  I am not coming back today.”

The next day:

“Hello Sweetheart, your tires are here.  What did you have for breakfast?”

Long story short:  After waiting for an hour, I spotted the new guy running around the dealership, taking photos with the fake camera on my key ring.

“Does the camera work?”

“No, do you?”

Wolf

The Rental

4 days with a rental car.

The gal at the rental agency: “Any questions?”

Of course not.

Well….

Sat down, felt like I was sitting in a corvette.

Could barely see out of the window.

Too late to do anything about that now.

I am on the road.

The side view mirrors were hosed up.

I could see the back of this car, but not any traffic behind me.

Oh well, I only have 15 miles to get home.

The AC was blasting.

The more I tried to quiet it down, the more it blasted.

No problem.  I will listen to the radio.

Geez!

Talk shows, similar to Howard Stern stuff.

Not a fan.

How do I change the station?

The more I fiddled with it, the wilder the AC got.

I need to stop for a snack.

Tried to lock the door.

No dice.

No problem.  I will take the fob with me, and it will be ok.

The bells and alarms went nuts.

Now what?

Oh no, I forgot to turn off the damn car.

No light on the keyless thingamajig.

Needed to take out the trash, for pickup.

Couldn’t get the hatch back to open.

Finally, after dinking around with the buttons on the fob, the hatch opened.

But.. It would not close.

Who cares?

I left the hatch open as I dropped off the trash.

Hell, I couldn’t see anyway, eve with the hatch in place.

Finally got the damn thing back in place manually.

Ok, home.

Time to lock this baby.

Nope.

The fob was in braille, or some kind of crazy codes.

4 days of driving around like a nincompoop.

A miracle happened.

My car was repaired.

Yay!

I just need to fill the gas tank.

Went to the pump.

Wrong side.

Finally got a space and opened the gas cover.

No hole for the hose.

Some goofy cap needed to be opened.

After many tries, it finally popped open.

A little over one gallon pf gas filled the tank.

That proves how much I liked this car.

I could not wait to get rid of this ridiculous SUV.

Happy as a clam as I drove away in my repaired car.

A quote to end this story:

You do not know what is better before you have tried what is worse. ― Thomas Rathsach Strange

Wolf