humor

Stupid Alcohol One-Liners Found on the Internet

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1. Alcohol should be served in Capri Sun pouches. When you can’t get the straw in the hole you’ve had enough.
2. Alcohol doesn’t turn people into somebody they’re not. It just makes them forget to hide that part of themselves.
3. Life and beer are very similar …..chill for best results.
4. I’m not an alcoholic. Alcoholics need a drink, but I already have one.
5. Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.
6. If you drink too much alcohol you are an alcoholic. If you drink too much Fanta, does that make you Fantastic?
7. I don’t recycle because it makes me look like a huge alcoholic to my garbage man.
8. I’m not an alcoholic alcoholics go to meetings, I’m a drunk, we go to parties.
9. Alcohol doesn’t make you fat… it makes you Lean…… on tables, chairs & random people.
10. My body is not a temple…..it’s a distillery with legs.
11. No! for the last time stop asking if i am drunk. I am not drunk! Who would name their kid drunk?
12. You say alcoholic, I’ll say alcohol enthusiast.
13. Take me drunk I’m home.
14. Anyone who says that alcohol is a depressant isn’t drinking enough of it.
15. When life hands you lemons, find someone with tequila and salt!
16. Dont drink and drive, it will spill everywhere
17. A hangover is the wrath of grapes.
18. I’ve been told I’ve got A.D.H.D (Alcohol Drinking and Hangover Disorder)
19. It’s true alcohol kills people, but how many are born because of it?
20. Alcohol is never the answer… But it does make you forget the question.
21 c A man’s got to believe in something. I believe I’ll have another drink.
22. My doctor told me to watch my drinking, so now I drink in front of a mirror.
23. “Relationship” has 12 letters but then again so does “Time For Shots”
24. Confucious says, “Man who drink beer all day, have Wet Dreams all night”.

Make a Joyful Noise!

imageDaddy was always right.  Custom and rules were for us, the underlings and nobodies of the family, and we’d best not forget it. He broke the news that some Church in the Wildwood was having a revival and we were going tonight.  I never liked going to church much anyway, so this ruined my day, but wait, there was a bonus.  In case that was’t bad enough, Phyliis and I were going to sing a special.  For those of you unfortunates not initiated into the strange goings on of Baptist Churches back in the sixties, it was common for a slightly talented, or not, fervently religious girl to do a solo, hold the congregation captive for what could be a few miserable minutes. Presumably, she had collaborated with the choir director and pianist, so as not to hijack order of the service.

Phyllis fit the bill perfectly, and had enthusiastically sung several specials in our church, delighting herself, Daddy, and hopefully, at least some people of the congregation.  A couple of times, he had even sprung for a new dress, so she’d really shine.  In all honesty, she sounded good.  

Despite the fact that I wanted no part in it, I’d even been dragged into it a couple of times as backup, kicking and screaming.  I did not sing with a joyful heart.

My heart was heavy with dread as Daddy drove manically through the back roads in search of this obscure church, throwing a fit the whole time because we’d made him late.  This was standard practice wherever we went, since he’d never bother to start getting dressed till after the time he’d say we were leaving.  When it was obvious we’d arrive after services started, I felt great relief, cheerfully offering, “Too bad!  We won’t be able to talk to them about singing a special.”

Always right, as usual, he shot me down.”Oh yes you will.  I’ll tell you when to go up and sing.  It doesn’t have to be arranged ahead of time.  Just be ready to go when I say.  Tell the piano player you want her to play ‘How Great Thou Art’.” I gave up.  We were going to be clomping up to the front of the church surprising the unsuspecting congregation with an impromptu “special” like a couple of clowns. At least, we’d never have to see any of these people again.

The seven of us filled a pew as the congregation finished a hymn, and launched in to another as I waited for the ax to fall.  Phyllis and I sat on the outside so we could make our way more easily to the front when the time came.  After the close of the offeratoy hymn and the collection of the offering, Daddy gave Phyllis “The Signal.” As she stood and prepared to stun the worshipers with our “special “, the choir director announced a “Special,” to be sung by a saintly appearing young lady.  Daddy’s face fell and Phyllis quickly sat down.  The singer limped through “How Greet  Thou Art” clearly enunciating “Greet,” not “Great” as we were prepared to do.  I never enjoyed a song more, the hilarity of the situation nearly undoing me.  As she finished, I stood as though I still thought Daddy expected us to sing.  He reached over, grabbing my skirt tail, stopping my progress.  I gave him a questioning look, as though I was confused at his shutting me down.

God is good.

 

 

Vacation Men/Women

Repost of an old post

Bud went camping and trout fishing with a buddy for a few days.  We shared the drama of list-making, packing, and lengthy instructions on all that needed attention while he was gone.  In the spirit of a true imbecile, I prepared enough easy food for an army, all homemade of course.  I never purchase quick foods.  He left with an ice-chest stuffed with boiled eggs, sausage biscuitDavis Creek campingts, chicken salad, and pimento cheese spread, all the high-cholesterol joy a couple of guys could wish for.  The guys left in high spirits.

While he was gone, I gardened, worked in the yard, wrote, went out to lunch a couple of times, and crocheted.  I didn’t cook.  I didn’t clean, till today.  I didn’t shop for groceries.  I wonder who had the best vacation?

Loving Home

What do you love about where you live?

A baby owl judged us from a snagged sweet gum for weeks. What a joy! If you enlarge photo, you can see his mother feeding him a mouse. He is bigger than she is!

I live on a quiet street in a neighborhood started in the 1970s The best thing is the trees. Built before the current trend of wiping lots bare before building, yards are graced with mighty trees. These lovely beings shade the streets, welcoming all who pass. My yard is well-shaded with tall trees that give the illusion of cool, even in the blistering August heat of Louisiana.

Flagstone patio I built myself! Who knew I could do such a thing?

Tiny House Help

  1. Davis Creek campingWith all the recent interest in Tiny Houses, it just occurred to me I have a gold-mine on my hands.  I OWN a Tiny House, also known as a camper.  I can market it as a trial Tiny Home, a 160 square foot slice of heaven. For the nervous novice, I could arrange Mentored Tiny Housing on beautiful two acre resort on a quiet tree-lined street, not far from the airport and city conveniences.  For an additional exhorbitant expense, Tiny House Relationship Counseling could be included.  “Don’t fart when the burners are on.  Don’t eat beans.  Resist the temptation to mention your partner is gaining weight when you are meeting yourselves coming and going.”

For those who are thinking of sizing down AND starting a family, I believe I could provide the full experence by inviting one of my many nieces and nephews to run amok through the small space perodically, for an impressive charge, of course. Should they need to experience life with a shedding dog or a geriatric cat with complimentary catbox, I can also furnish that.  Before you pare down your belongings and sink $60K into a Tiny House,  give me a call.  I can provide an enhanced experience for far less.

If all goes well, I may branch out and have my own reality show.

Sports Funnies

imageimageimageimageimageimageimageStopping to ask directions at a house at dinnertime, I was invited in to eat with the family. When I asked what they were having, I was told southern fried possum.
I suddenly remembered that I wasn’t hungry, but replied that I had always heard opossum tasted just like chicken.
The cook told me it should because it ate 13 of her chickens before ending up in the frying pan.

~~~~~

Sign seen on a Taxidermist’s window: “We really know our stuff.”

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Seen on a T-Shirt:
Moosehead
A great beer and a new experience for a moose
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The Old Man and The Beaver

A 110-year-old man is having his annual checkup. The doctor asks him how he’s feeling.
“I’ve never felt better,” he replies. I’ve got an eighteen-year-old bride who’s pregnant with my child. What do you think about that?”
The doctor thinks for a moment and says, “Let me tell you a story. I know a guy who’s an avid hunter. He never misses a season but one day he’s in a bit of a hurry and accidentally grabs his umbrella instead of his gun. So, he’s walking in the woods near a creek and suddenly spots a beaver in some brush in front of him. He raises his umbrella, points it at the beaver, squeezes the handle, and BAM! the beaver drops dead in front of him.”
That’s impossible,” said the old man in disbelief, “someone else must have shot that beaver!”
“Exactly”, said the doctor.

~~~~~

Mumba Snake

A guy was visiting his friend in the hospital who was “all torn up.” “What happened?” he asked.
“Well, we were hunting the Mumba snake. It has yellow and black stripes. It likes to sun itself lying across a pathway in the jungle. You catch it by grabbing the tip of its tail with one hand and quickly running your other hand up the length of its body so you can grab it behind the neck.”
“Go on,” the friend said.
“Well, I sneaked up to the tail laying across the jungle path, grabbed it by the end, and rapidly moved my other hand upward … just as the procedure goes.”
“So why are you so beaten up?” the friend asked.
“Did you ever *goose* a tiger?”

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Top five signs you’ve hired the wrong hunting guide:

5. Your guide blows into big sea shell horn to attract game and a bunch of Vikings show up instead.
4. Your guide is completely outfitted with “Barney” camping equipment.
3. As you close in on a deer, your guide whispers in an Elmer Fudd voice, “Be vehhwey vehhwey quiet.”
2. He calls trees by their first names.
And the number one sign you’ve hired the wrong hunting guide:
1. He is prone to scream, “Run, Bambi, RUN!”

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Anyone who is mistaken for a moose and shot, is probably better off anyway.t

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Did you hear about the guy who went elephant hunting and ended up in the hospital?
He got a hernia carrying the decoys.

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What’s the difference between beer nuts and deer nuts?
Beer Nuts are around a dollar seventy-nine, and deer nuts are just under a buck!

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A group of friends went deer hunting and paired off in twos for the day. That night, one of the hunters returned alone, staggering under the weight of an eight-point buck.
“Where’s Henry?”
“Henry had a stroke of some kind. He’s a couple of miles back up the trail.”
“You left Henry laying out there and carried the deer back!?!”
“A tough call,” nodded the hunter, “but I figured no one is going to steal Henry.”

~~~~~

Two guys go hunting. Jerry has never gone hunting while Joe has hunted all his life. When they get to the northern Wisconsin woods, Joe tells Jerry to sit by a tree and not make a sound while Joe checks out a deer stand.
When he gets about a quarter of a mile away, Joe hears a blood-curdling scream. He rushes back to Jerry and yells, “I thought I told you to be quiet!”
Jerry says, “Hey, I tried. I really tried!! When those snakes crawled over me, I didn’t make a sound. When that bear was breathing down my neck, I didn’t make a peep. But when those two chipmunks crawled up my pants leg and said – ‘Should we take them with us or eat them here?’, I couldn’t keep quiet any more!”

~~~~~

Two hunters went moose hunting every winter without success. Finally they came up with a foolproof plan. They got a very authentic cow moose costume and learned the mating call of a cow moose.
The plan was to hide in the costume, lure the bull, then come out of the costume and shoot the bull. They set themselves up on the edge of a clearing, donned their costume and began to give the moose love call.
Before long their call was answered as a bull came crashing out of the forest and into the clearing. When the bull was close enough, the guy in front said, “OK, lets get out and get him.”
After a moment that seemed like an eternity, the guy in the back shouted, “The zipper is stuck! What are we going to do!?”
After a moment that seemed like an eternity, the guy in the back shouted, “The zipper is stuck! What are we going to do!?”
The guy in the front says, “Well, I’m going to start nibbling grass, but you’d better brace yourself.

Fibbing Friday Questions this week from Melissa: How would you define these?

1. Ambidexter A yellow resinous substance that oozes from the famous Dexter Palm of Palmyra

    2. Blatherskite A buzzard that vomits copious amounts of ephemera

    3. Breviloquent A toxic politician who lies with ineloquence

    4. Crapulence A blast of breviloquence too smarmy to conceal

    5. Graumangere Famine resulting from fields contaminated with ergot fungi

    6. Grimoire Large armoire of ebony

    7. Illaudible classified information never to be subsequently unclassified

    8. Podsnappery lost art of perfectly snapping inescuable beans

    9. Poetaster A book worm that destroys ancient manuscripts

    10. Polemic Of the belugine lineage of Ptolomy the Great

    Contentment

    What positive emotion do you feel most often?

    Contentment is the positive emotion I feel most often. I am retired. My children are grown, my days routine. I am past the point of working hard, professional struggles, and daily stress. At the age of seventy-three, I’ve learned most upsets blow over if you let them. I spend my time doing a few necessary chores. As I went out before daylight to water my flowers, it occurred to me I was doing what my beloved grandmother was doing seventy years ago, puttering in my yard, and pretty much doing as I choose.

    Nag! Nag! Nag!

    Peggy Sue and her brother Clyde were in Mrs. Twiddle’s fourth grade class with me. Neither did well in school, but Clyde seemed to struggle more, already having been held back one year. I knew their family lived in an unfinished, unpainted house on my bus route , so I inferred they were poor.

    While the other fourth grade girls wore the usual little girl shoes with socks, Peggy Sue went sockless in black flats of the type worn by teenagers and women.

    For some reason, Mrs. Twiddle took issue with Peggy Sue’s shoes and lack of socks. Every morning, when checking attendance, the teacher lectured Peggy Sue about not wearing socks. I dreaded the lectures for Peggy Sue’s sake. A kinder person would have assumed the child simply had no socks and possibly discreetly supplied her with a few pair. The Twiddles owned a store and could have spared them. Instead, Mrs. Twiddle tormented her.

    I’ve never forgotten Mrs. Twiddle’s cruelty. I’m sure Peggy Sue hasn’t.