humor

Bears Just Ain’t That Bad

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Growing up way,way in the country the last place bordering a game reserve, the nearest neighbor a mile away, I was always aware we didn’t live in the sticks, but I hoped to someday. The woods were full of wild pigs, deer, coyote, foxes, alligators, a few black bear, snakes, birds, and a plethora of other wild creatures.  It wasn’t a great idea to go stumbling around in the dark out there, especially without knee-high boots, a pistol, and a light.  

It was not uncommon for hunters to come walking up to our place, any time of the day or night, reporting being stuck in the deeply rutted roads and off-road areas of the reserve, muddy, fatigued, and bedraggled, desperate for help in getting out of a mud hole. Daddy or my brother sometimes cranked the tractor,  bounced them back to their disaster, and pulled them out.  It could take quite a while and was a lot of work.  More often than not, if they had no cash, they left personal property to be redeemed when they came back with cash.

One morning about daylight, visitors of a different type came walking up, a teenage couple who’d gone parking and gotten stuck.  The girl explained, they’d spent the night in the car, afraid to walk out, thinking a bear might get them.

I was amazed.  Her father must have been nothing like mine. There wasn’t a bear big or bad enough to warrant getting caught spending the night in a parked car with a boy.  I’d have faced a dozen bears rather than Daddy with a story like that!

Humorous Tales from Nurses: A Lighthearted Look at Healthcare

St. Peter and the Three Nurses

Three nurses died and went to heaven, where they were met at the Pearly Gates by St. Peter.

To the first, he asked, “What did you do on Earth and why should you go to heaven?” “I was a nurse in an inner-city hospital,” she replied. “I worked to bring healing and peace to the poor suffering city children.” “Very noble,” said St. Peter. “You may enter.” And in through the gates, she went.

To the next, he asked the same question: “So what did you do on Earth?” “I was a nurse at a missionary hospital in Africa,” she replied. “For many years, I worked with a skeleton crew of doctors and nurses who tried to reach out to as many peoples and tribes with a hand of healing and with a message of God’s love.” “How touching,” said St. Peter. “You too may enter.” And in she went.

He then came to the last nurse, to whom he asked, “So, what did you do back on Earth?” After some hesitation, she explained, “I was just a nurse at an HMO.” St. Peter pondered this for a moment, and then said, “Okay, you may enter also.”

“Whew!” said the nurse. “For a moment there, I thought you weren’t going to let me in.”

“Oh, you can come in,” said St. Peter, “but you can only stay for three days!”

Rectal Thermometer

A nurse walks into a bank totally exhaustedafter an 18-hour shift. She grabs a deposit slip, pulls a rectal thermometer out of her purse, and tries to write with it. When she realizes her mistake, she looks at the flabbergasted teller and, without missing a beat, says, “Well, that’s great…some asshole’s got my pen!”

Speaking of Rectal Thermometers…

Q: What’s the difference between an oral thermometer and a rectal thermometer?
A: The taste.

Ten Quarters

I had to take my son to the hospital after he swallowed ten quarters. He was rushed to surgery. After half an hour I saw a nurse so I asked her how he was. She said, “There’s no change yet.”

Three Wishes

A nursing assistant, a floor nurse and a charge nurse from a small nursing home were taking a lunch break in the break room. In walks, a lady dressed in silk scarves and wearing large polished-stone jewelry. “I am Gina the Great,” stated the lady. “I am so pleased with the way you have taken care of my aunt that I will now grant the next three wishes!” With a wave of her hand and a puff of smoke, the room was filled with flowers, fruit, and bottles of drink, proving that she did have the power to grant wishes before any of the nurses could think otherwise.

The nurses quickly argued among themselves as to which one would ask for the first wish. Speaking up, the nursing assistant wished first. “I wish I were on a tropical island beach, with single, well-built men feeding me fruit and tending to my every need.” With a puff of smoke, the nursing assistant was gone.

The floor nurse went next. “I wish I were rich and retired, and spending my days in my own warm cabin at a ski resort with well-groomed men feeding me cocoa and doughnuts.” With a puff of smoke, she too was gone.

“Now, what is the last wish?” asked the lady.

The charge nurse said, “I want those two ambitious nurses back on the floor at the end of the lunch break!”

“WTH!”

Q: Did you hear about the nurse who died and went straight to hell?

A: It took her two weeks to realize that she wasn’t at work anymore!

Prignant

Repost of an earlier post:

That was weird.  I heard tiptoeing and a door quietly locking.  I tiptoed to my parent’s room and found their door locked!  Their door was never even shut except around Christmas.  Mother must have gotten scared and locked it.   Assuming the worst, I pounded and screeched, “Mama!  Mama!  Your door’s locked. Help!  I can’t get in!!!” Continue reading →

Grandpa’s Dead!

My cousin Barbara was an only child wise enough to be born to older parents continuously thrilled at their creation. They indulged her in everything, the way my parents should have done me, understanding she was precious and needed protection from life’s hard edges. They all lived the house with Grandma and Grandpa so it was going to be a challenge to Continue reading →

Big Jake

When I traveled in the Yukon Territory. I would often stop by this trading post/bar/restaurant and got to know the owner. One night he asked me if I could watch the place while he took food to a sick friend.

“Sure!”, I said.

Everything is humming along, suddenly a man burst through the door,

“Run for your lives! Big Jake’s coming!”.

Oh, crap. The place cleared out, I am hiding behind the bar when I hear the rumble of a Snowcat (big tank-like vehicle with bulldozer treads). The door slams open and a HUGE man covered in bearskins stomps into the place.

”Gimme a keg!!”.

I roll the keg from the walk-in refrigerator, he jams the tapper into it and sprays it into his face and mouth. When it was empty, I meekly asked him if he wanted another, he yells,

“You kiddin’ me? I’m outta here, Big Jake is coming!!”

The Mystery of the Monogram on a Toilet Seat

My mother often said, “If you have kids, you can’t have anything else.”  Well, she was wrong.  We had a new toilet seat.  After installing it, Daddy looked around, stared us down, and threatened.  “I’d better not see anybody’s initials on this seat!”  Where did that come from?  I’d never heard of anybody putting initials on a toilet seat.

I went about my business, that toilet seat and  initials, foremost on my mind.  I wrote LDS in my “Night Before Christmas” book, LDS in the sand under the big shade tree, scooped up some mud and wrote LDS on the dog house. Still unsatisfied, I heated the ice pick on a stove burner and burned LDS on a green Tupperware tumbler.

Feeling strangely unfulfilled and restless, I couldn’t think of a thing to do.  Billy was off somewhere playing with Froggy.  Mother and the baby were taking a nap, so if I stayed in the house, I had to be quiet.  I slipped in the kitchen to see if there was any Kool Aid miraculously left in the pitcher.  No luck. Dejected, I went to the bathroom.

There it was calling to me, pristine in its unblemished beauty.  The new toilet seat!!!  I sat down, my bare bottom luxuriating in its cool smoothness. I got up, locked the door, and turned the seat up. Making sure no one was looking through the window, I got Mother’s eyebrow pencil out of the medicine cabinet and wrote LDS in tiny letters where no one would ever see it.  Terrified, I erased my crime.  The finish was dull from pencil smears. My heart pounded!  I was caught!  I got tissue and buffed it off.  Thank goodness the shine was back.  Relieved, I sat on the side of the bathtub to catch my breath.  A nail fell out of my pocket and clattered to the bottom of the tub.  Never has the devil so possessed a soul.  Grasping the nail, I scratched BRS, Billy’s initials, on the toilet seat.  Horrified, at the enormity of my crime, I tiptoed past the room where Mother and the baby still slept.  By this time, Billy and Froggy had gotten back.  We were throwing mud balls at each other when I heard a shriek from the house.  “BILLY RAY SWAIN!!  You come here this minute!”  I didn’t need to go in to know what was wrong.  I heard “Spat! Spat! Spat!” and in a few minutes he was out, still snuffling.

“What happened?”

“Mother whooped me for putting my initials on the toilet seat. I told her I didn’t know how to write but she said, ‘Who else would put your initials on the toilet seat?’ “

How long could it be before she found the Tupperware?

The Good in the Boogerman

I was tantalized by the occult when a child, Naturally, since I was raised by a good Southern Baptist mother, I was deprived of as much supernatural exposure as Mother could manage. Fortunately, Daddy’s mother was extremely superstitious.

It goes without saying, Mother would never contradicted her to her face. Sometimes when Mamaw had a gaggle of grandchildren running wild around her, she’d launch into a ghost story, usually purported to be true. The wild grandchildren would immediately settle down at their mother’s knee to listen, enchanted and big-eyed with belief

Mamaw petrified us with tales of ghosts, spirits, deranged ax-murderers, boogermen, and bodies found in wells, totally unconcerned about the nightmares she was inspiring.

As soon as she could, Mother initiated damage control. “There are no ghosts or Boogermen!”

To this day, I don’t know why Mother took that stand, considering the good effect fear of ghosts and the boogerman had on those wild kids. Mamaw knew exactly what she was doing.

Sing at the table

Sing in the bed

Boogerman’ll git you

By the hair of the head!

Uh oh! (I hope it’s ok to post this riotous post I read on Quora.)

I was at the grocery store. Maybe it was a case of being at the right place at the right time, but still….

So what happened? Well, the stuff that the woman wanted was on the very top of the shelf, she tried to “whack it down” with her cane. Instead, they went back behind, way out of reach. Well, this guy asked her “Ma’am? Which one did you want?” She pointed it with her cane.

This guy (taller than both of us but still short), climbed up and grabbed (she wanted 2) and using one hand to try to bend over to give her two cans, lost his balance, and he grabbed the first thing he could, I was wearing a tank top, so he grabbed my tank top and my bra, ripping it as he lost his balance (but I broke his fall by “catching him”).

By this time the Store Meat Manager (he saw what happened), rushed over. The guy was fine, but the first thing he said was

“OOPSIE MA’AM, I DIDN’T MEAN TO POP YOUR BOOBY!”

I had to pull my tank top up (he broke my bra and the upper right side “strap” of the tank top), using my arm to hold “what’s left of it” to cover my boob!

Meat Manager, he was red-faced and pulled me over behind the display rack (canned goods) and ordered an employee to grab something. It was a spare t-shirt, size XXXL, with the store and the slogan saying ‘I’VE GOT THE BIG MEATS’

REALLY? I am sorry but customers and a couple of other employees who saw this guy almost crashing to the floor… were cracking up!

That same guy, he wasn’t hurt, but he was still embarrassed, pulled out his wallet and a bill folded up into my hand and he left the store (leaving his few items behind). I thought maybe it was $5 or $10 to replace the bra and tank top. I really didn’t need it, so I just put it in my shorts pocket and totally forgotten about it.

FAST FORWARD: I didn’t put those shorts on for a long time, I wore them for about 2 hours, and just folded them up and put them in the drawer. Once winter was over, we were all going to go fishing, I pulled those shorts out and there was the bill, still in my pocket, and I laughed – couldn’t believe I had forgotten it, but when I opened it up, it was a $100.00 bill!

Organization

What could you do differently?

I could and should organize my writing. I am totally spontaneous plunging headlong into whatever is on my mind. That works just fine except it leaves me with a mass of material that I have intentions of getting in a book. I will prioritize organization.