A woman went into the local bar with a goose under her arm. The outraged bar owner came rushing over. “Why did you bring that pig in here?” he demanded.
“You idiot! This is a goose!” said the woman.
“I was talking to the goose,” said the bar owner.
Dear Auntie Linda, September 15, 2015
Dear Auntie Linda,. Joe and I have been married four years and have a newborn son. We live outside a Midwest city. Joe has been working for a chemical company and I am a stay at home mom and artist. Our lives are good. Uncle Jake, called last week to ask Joe to take over his 800 acre farm twenty-eight miles outside town, so he can retire. Joe will inherit the farm upon Uncle Jake’s death. Joe worked for Uncle Jake summers and holidays all through high school and college and has always looked forward to having the farm one day. I know this is a wonderful opportunity, but I’ve never lived in the country and am worried about leaving my family, friends, and the comfortable life we have built. I am worried about schools and social opportunities for my son. What if we move way out in the country and I hate rural living? City Girl
Dear City Girl, Twenty-eight miles isn’t that far. A half-hour automobile ride gets you back to town. Inheriting a farm sounds like a wonderful opportunity, especially since Joe knows what he is getting into. If you give farm life a try, you may find you like it. Since you are a stay at home mother and artist, you can work as well there as in the city. Growing up on a farm can enhance your children’s lives in many ways. Certainly, they will have more time with parents. A great deal of a child’s education is parental input. There are advantages to rural life. Life is what you make. Auntie Linda
Dear Auntie Linda, I got a call from my sister last week confessing that she had “borrowed” my information for a loan. We have sequential drivers license and social security numbers since got them together on the same day. She was able to convince a friend to accept my forged signature on an affadvit at her credit union as co-signer on a loan. Since I am co-signer, they are coming after me for payment. She pulled this same trick on my mother many years ago, getting my mother deep in debt. I have no intention of paying this loan. How do you deal with this kind of betrayal from family? Rotten Sister
Dear Rotten, You are right not to get sucked in. Your sister made this mess; it is hers to deal with. Just distance yourself and don’t give her a second chance. If you see her at family gatherings, just keep it casual. Auntie Linda
Joke of the Day
A city boy decided to quit the rat race and bought himself a farm, which included a few sows. He wanted to breed the sows, but had no idea how to go about it. His neighbor volunteered his boars for the job, and told the city boy to bring them over in the pickup the next day. In the afternoon when he went to pick them up, the city boy asked how he would be able to tell if the sows were impregnated. He was told to look and see where they were early in the morning. If they were up on the hill, they were pregnant; if they were in the sty, it hadn’t worked. The next morning, he leapt from the bed and looked up the hill, but alas the pigs were down in the mud. Grumbling, he loaded them back into the pickup and headed for the neighbors. The following three mornings were just the same; he would leap from the bed, look up the hill, find the pigs down in the mud and have to return them to the neighbors to let the boars have another shot at them. On the fifth morning, he looked up the hill, and there were no pigs. He looked down in the sty; still no pigs. He called to his wife, “Where the hell are the pigs today?” Amid hysterical laughter, she managed to choke out, “They’re down in the truck, and the big one is honking the horn!”
This reporter gets this lead on this story about this really special pig. So he goes to interview the pig’s owner for the evening broadcast. He drives to the house, knocks on the door. The man opens the door and invites him inside. The reporter says, “I understand that you’ve got a very special pig here.” The man says, “Special? Hell son, let me tell you some stories about that pig.”
“About ten years ago, I found this pig by the roadside. He had dropped off of a pickup truck, and left for dead. So I went and picked him up and nursed him back to health. About two years later the whole family was asleep, and the house and barn caught on fire. The pig busted into the window, woke me up, and told me the house was on fire. ” The reporter is stunned. “You mean to tell me that that pig can talk?” “Hell, yes, he can talk,” says the farmer. “This pig is helping to perfect the cold fusion process, and he’s on the lecture circuit, making $10,000 per speech.”
The reporter asks the farmer hastily, “Can we go see this miracle pig now???” The farmer replies, “Sure we can.” So they go out into the farmyard, and there, sitting on the fence smoking a cigarette is this pig missing one front leg and one hind leg. The pig says to the reporter, “Hello there. Beautiful weather, isn’t it? I haven’t seen weather this pretty since I was sailing the Barbados…” The reporter is too stunned to respond. He drags the farmer back into the house, and says, “Dammit, you’re right. The pig can talk!!!” The farmer says, “See, I told you.” Then the reporter says, “I’ve just got one question. What happened to his legs?”
The farmer says, “You see, son, a pig that smart, you just CAN’T eat him all at once.”
6 Reasons to have Kids
1. Curiosity: Go ahead and see what you can whip up. Drift into a hormone-induced fog thinking how great it would be to have a baby with all the combined charm of you and your sweetie. Realistically, that baby is just as likely to exercise its genetic options and come up with a nice mix of Cousin Fred and and Aunt Myrtle’s worst traits.
2. Karma. You have to “pay for your raising.” I can’t tell you how many times my mom wished “fifteen kids who act just like you” on me. What a horrible thing to curse a kid with! The woman had no conscience! Nothing makes you forgive your parents’ horrendous mistakes like screwing up your own kids.
3. Kids keep you humble. Nobody knows more about raising kids than folks who’ve never had one. There is no surer way to ensure your kid will humiliate you on a regular basis than to criticize somebody else’s kid. Never, never, never say, “my kid wouldn’t do that.” They are probably doing it right then on the six o’clock news.
4. Budgeting is no problem once you have kids. Except for rent, groceries, and utilities, and minimal clothes for yourself, everything goes for kid expenses. It will be many years before you have to bother yourself about fancy cars, entertainment, vacation, savings, or investments.
5. Educational benefits. I never realized how little I knew until my first night home with a new baby. Nothing I did worked. Though child care looked simple enough, nothing I’d ever done prepared me for the challenge. As they grew older, my incompetence grew exponentially. By the time they were teenagers, I barely had enough functioning brain cells to tie my shoes. Thank God, a few years after they left home, I seemed to be functioning moderately well. It’s amazing how children in the home makes parental IQs plummet.
6. Hopefully, they get grown and give you beautiful, well-behaved grandchildren, asking you to babysit only on rare occasions.
Great Comment from Dewinnefol
It’s interesting that the comments you get are often better than the posts. Look at this comment I got from Dewinnefol.wordpress.com on my Joke of the Day! He kindly gave me permission to post it.
Thank you for the daily chuckle Linda…those salt-cellars are a very persuasive bunch lol :) The funny today brought a smile and an amusing memory…
The memory is of a Salesman who once called in at an upmarket Food Store I worked in many years ago, and who spent a moment or two explaining to me how he landed the job with his prestigious employer. I admit he had a highly persuasive character with a natural flare for selling. He was also a very decent and honest man.
He (let’s call him Jerry) had been asked to attend an interview late on a Friday afternoon for a company he had longed to work for and knew it would be a particularly tough call to do well at interview, especially at that end of a long arduous week. Jerry knew he didn’t enjoy being interviewed and was a nervy sort of chap anyway: a young man almost turned 17 and eager to find his first real work.
Having arrived a little early, and been kept waiting for nearly an hour longer than necessary, Jerry was at last shown in through the double doors and entered a long, narrow, wood panelled office. Pausing as he’d been instructed, he waited quietly to be called forward, all to aware of the rising anxiety breaking out as beads of sweat on his brow. The ‘instruction’ to come forward was both sudden and severe and delivered with gusto – something along the lines of…’Get a bloody move on, I haven’t got all day to wait for the likes of you!’ With nerves now jangling Jerry stepped quickly towards the large mahogany desk at the far end of the office, some 30 long paces ahead.
The boss was reclined in his chair reading an evening newspaper with his feet raised upon the desk and a lit cigarette in his hand. From what Jerry remembers, the guy never even looked at him as he approached the desk and stood waiting to be asked to sit, as was the customary manner. He recalls a short, but somewhat drawn out silence before the Boss suddenly spoke, ‘well go on then…impress me!’ and continued to read his newspaper. Jerry thinks it was at this point he had had enough, and thoroughly disillusioned reached across the desk, picked up the cigarette lighter, lit the bottom edge of the Bosses newspaper, turned, and with great haste made a bee-line for the door!
Suffice to say, the following Tuesday a letter arrived in the morning post offering him a position with the company, a generous salary and suit allowance and the use of a company vehicle. Jerry was delighted of course, accepted the offer immediately, and never once looked back. Some 30 years later he was still working for the same employer and now found management to his liking. True story, or so I am told
Dear Auntie Linda, September 14, 2015
Dear Auntie Linda, I hate my job and most off the people who work there. It has reached the point that I can’t sleep for dreading the next day. I have to have this job. I have been here twenty-four years and can’t find anything else where I make this much. Sometimes I throw up on the way to work and go out to my car on break and cry. My performance ratings are low, so I can’t transfer until I get them up. That would take at least six months. I don’t see how I can stand another six months, let alone six years till I can retire. What do I do? Sick and Tired
Dear Sick and Tired, This sounds miserable. Maybe you can work on a plan to improve your performance so you can transfer. A realistic short-term goal might help. Additionally, it would be a good idea to talk to your doctor. If depression, stress, or health problems are effecting your work, medication or health care management might help. If you really can’t continue, look at your expenses. Perhaps you could refinance your home or get a roommate to cut expenses. Maybe there is some way you can cut back, or retire early. If you did that, you might be able to accept a job that pays less and is less demanding. Auntie Linda
Dear Aunt Linda, I spent the weekend with my sister recently. Her teenage son had company in and out all weekend. While I was there, my Rolex watch went missing from the locked bedroom. I am sure it was stolen. I am very careful with my things, and recall returning it to my suitcase before we gathered for dinner on the patio. Many guests were there. Over my sister’s objections, I reported it to the police but so far there is no trace of it. There was no sign of a break in. She also doesn’t want me to file an insurance claim since an investigation will ensue. I can’t afford to let this drop. What are her responsibilities and mine? Devastated
Dear Devastated, What would you do if this happened in a hotel room, at work, or your own home? Your sister is asking too much to expect you to ignore this loss. She probably has concerns other guests who were there. Sounds like an investigation might be warranted. Auntie Linda
Dave Lewis’s Joke
Dave Lewis sent me this great joke in a comment. Thanks Dave.
A library lady friend told me this parrot joke. A young man bought a parrot for a pet but every time he had his girl friend over the bird would start cursing and swearing so he decided to teach it a lesson by putting him in the freezer for an hour. When the hour was up he took the bird out he asked him if had learned his lesson. The parrot said yes but obviously the chicken in there didn’t!
Them That Don’t Work……..
There was always more work than Mother could possibly get done by the time there were five kids. In addition to the house and cooking, Daddy kept Mother running errands for the farm. “Run up to Manolia and get me a magneto for the tractor. On the way back, pick my saw up from the shop and a couple of cans of gasoline.”
Magnolia was forty miles away. Unless Daddy got his request in early, by the time Mother got back, we were in from school. If I saw a chicken thawing in the sink, I knew to get supper started. No instructions were needed. Chicken meant fried chicken. Ground meat meant meatloaf. I’d change clothes, peel and boil mountains of potatoes, cut the chicken up and get it started frying, or get the meatloaf on and get some vegetables started, if Mother hadn’t left a pot of beans simmering on low. God forbid, I should let the beans cook dry and scorch. That was a catastrophe. While the chicken fried, cornbread or biscuits went in the oven, no “light bread” ever defiled the table at our house. Daddy frequently bragged about that. It reflected well his authority and manhood. Supper was on the table at the expected time. As soon as dinner was over, we got the kitchen cleaned up. After the first time or two I got a meal on the table, never Mother worried again if she was held up, knowing dinner would be ready on time. Only once did I foolishly decide I had better things to do than cook supper after I had started that routine. Turns out, I didn’t have anything better to do. We also had dogs, cows, and chickens who didn’t take care of themselves. They ate before we did.
At about the age of seven or eight, when I initially got the devastating news that I was going to start having “jobs” to do, I was appalled and disgusted. I was a kid. I was supposed to play. It was my parent’s job to take care of me. Life wouldn’t be worth living! Sometimes Mother would send me back three or four times till I did a job right. Daddy had a much more time efficient method. He’d just kick my butt and make it worth my time to get it right. After three or four years of involuntary servitude, I realized it was easier to do what needed to be done than deal with the alternative and still have to do get busy. Eventually, somehow I started needed doing without being told.
Joke of the Day
As Joe left work, his wife called and asked him to bring home some salt. He stopped by the store and asked the proprietor if he had any salt.
“Have I got salt? I got iodized salt, plain table salt, rock salt, sea salt, seasoned salt,…..this whole back wall is covered with salt and I got salt stored down in the basement where I keep my stock.”
“Wow, you must sell a lot of salt!” remarked Joe.
“Naw, I can’t sell salt for shucks. But that feller I get my salt from, now he can sell salt!”
Nutsrok 