Kermit Jagger

Cousin Jeanne e-mailed me this story yesterday. I apologize for sharing it with you here because you probably got it in an email recently, too. It's a real groaner.

A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller. He can see from her nameplate that her name is Patricia Whack.

"Miss Whack, I'd like to get a $30,000 loan to take a holiday."

Patty looks at the frog in disbelief and asks his name. The frog says his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick Jagger, and that it's okay, he knows the bank manager.

Patty explains that he will need to secure the loan with some collateral. The frog says, "Sure. I have this," and produces a tiny porcelain elephant, about an inch tall, bright pink and perfectly formed. Very confused, Patty explains that she'll have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into a back office.

She finds the manager and says, "There's a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30,000, and he wants to use this as collateral." She holds up the tiny pink elephant.

"I mean, what in the world is this?"

(You're gonna love this)

The bank manager looks back at her and says...

"It's a knickknack, Patty Whack. Give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone"

One More Bathroom Story

I replaced the seat on my toilet last week. I'm sure that is one of the simplest plumbing jobs one can undertake next to jiggling the handle, but I'm still proud of myself. I seem to have an easy time taking things apart, but I can't put them back together again.

It took me much longer to find the right size seat than it did to take off the old one and put the new one on. I searched several stores before I found seats that would fit at Lowe's. At eye level (my eye level), was a nice array of seats, all in the wrong size and shape. The seat I needed was displayed on a shelf about 8 feet off the floor.

I stared at the shelves a while wondering if I could climb high enough to reach the seats without (1) killing myself or (2) toppling the shelves, but decided I couldn't. (I'm short, not stupid.) I looked up and down the aisle hoping to spy a sales assistant, but nobody was there so I glared at the shelves in an attempt to make one of the seats feel guilty enough to jump off into my waiting arms. Well, that didn't work.

Finally, I decided the only way to get what I needed was to search out a tall employee (or a short one with a ladder), waylay him or her, and drag 'em back to assist me. As I turned away, I noticed that right behind me was a floor display of the right size seats at a reasonable price.

I bought the seat and put it in the trunk of my car then decided to look for flower pots in their garden section. I had barely reached the planting accessories section when someone asked if I needed assistance finding anything.

I was in a good mood so I didn't throw a pot at his head.

One of life's little mysteries

When my mother died several years ago, I had to sort through the things left in her apartment. One of those things was a gaudy baseball-style cap that I had never seen before. It had clearly been hand-decorated for some occasion, but I couldn’t make out the writing on the brim which would have given some clue as to its origin. I started to toss it in a “To Go To Goodwill” bag, but decided nobody would ever buy such an ugly thing so resigned it to the trash.

A few days later, my brother John called and asked if I had found the hat that Mother had made during one of her visits with him to a Ham Fest. (He was an amateur ham radio operator.) Immediately I knew what was on the brim of that hat; the writing was crystal clear once I knew what it said and then I knew what the hat really was. One of those worthless/priceless memories that you cling to when you lose someone you love.

I explained that I had thrown the cap away, but promised I would look for it, “just in case”. I was sure it had been sent to the trash, but I searched the Goodwill bags anyway. I dumped them out on the floor and put everything back one piece at a time, praying I hadn’t thrown it away. I filled up the bags, but still no cap so I dumped them out again, and repeated the process. I didn’t want to deny John such a simple request, but I just couldn’t find it.

Later that week while I was sorting the contents of the bedroom closet, a box fell off the top shelf, hitting me on the head. The lid flew off and the contents scattered across the floor. I was so tired, so disheartened, but I wiped away poor-me-tears and reached down to begin repacking the box. At my feet was a gaudy cap. That gaudy, worth-nothing, means-everything cap for my baby brother.

Never enough tears

My baby brother was supposed to get married today, but he died unexpectedly yesterday morning.

His face, smiling, laughing, dances around my memories and through my tears. My heart is breaking because I will never see him again.

I have cried enough tears to overflow the ocean,

but there are never enough tears to wash away the sorrow. ... anon

Reading vs Writing

I haven't progressed very far into my latest Mystery Writing course. I'm still reading the book assignments for the first class. For some reason, the first assignment included reading 12 chapters from one book and 5 from another.

I know I've complained about that before, but Puhleaze! I thought this was a "Writing" course, not a reading class.

Fortunately, the class is structured so that I can take my time and not have to give up everything to read. Not that I mind giving up everything to read - it's just not as much fun when a teacher tells you to do it as it is to do it when you want to.

Life's like that.

No Greater Love ...

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through Him might be saved. (John 3:16-17, Bible, King James Version)

He could have called ten thousand angels
To destroy the world and set Him free.
He could have called ten thousand angels,
But He died alone, for you and me.

(Ray Overhalt, Ten Thousand Angels, 1959)

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13, Bible, King James Version)

I'm almost through

I freely admit that I'm not an expert on urinals (except the plastic ones they use in hospitals) and I don't frequent men's restrooms, but I'm still perusing the urinal page. (No, I am not a pervert. Nobody's using the urinals in the pictures.)

The pictures are copyrighted so I won't post them here, but click on these links to see four of the top ten.

1. http://www.urinal.net/naturescall/ These urinals are porcelain sculptures shaped like flowers and seashells created by San Francisco artist Clark Sorenson.
2. http://www.urinal.net/mystique/ Believe it or not, these urinals, called KISSES, resemble mouths. These are located in the Mystique Night Club of Bankok, Thailand, but are made by the Dutch company "Bathroom Mania" and other pics can be seen on their website, www.bathroom-mania.com . (Warning: this site actually shows the urinal in use, but then the whole idea is a little perverted. Giggly funny, but perverted.)
3. http://www.urinal.net/the_felix/ You can do your duty in front of a hugh window which overlooks the Hong Kong sky line. Not for the shy or bashful.
4. http://www.urinal.net/rothesay/ Reportedly, popstar Adam Ant took his name from the fixtures in this rest room.

and that's the way it goes

Yesterday, I told you that while I was looking for ostriches I found a site that specializes in urinals. That's the way it goes when you're doing research, one thing leads to another.

While I was wondering why the Aruba Ostrich Farm had urinals in the dining room, I noticed a link, http://www.urinal.net/kohler_arts/, that used the word "arts" in the same line as "urinal". Yeah, I got sidetracked again.

But you ought to see these urinals!

Yep, that's a working urinal (on the left), called "The Patron". It's located in a restroom at the John Michael Koehler Arts Center in Sheboygan, WI.

Well, where else are you going to go in Sheboygan?

(For a close up of "The Patron", visit the link above; to see more of the restrooms in the john michael koehler Arts Center go to http://www.jmkac.org/.)

Say what?

While looking for pictures of ostriches on Google, I stumbled across a picture of "The Urinals at Aruba Ostrich Farm" (which can be seen at www.urinal.net). I won't reproduce it here as there was nothing spectacular about the appearance of these particular urinals.

However, the caption under the picture said, "The farm offers a very educational tour of the facilities which gives the visitor a chance to interact with, pet and feed a variety of ostriches. These urinals are located in the expansive dining area where guests are invited to sample an equally wide variety of delicious ostich dishes."

I took a second look and read it again.


(1) Yes, it says "These urinals are located in the ... dining area".
(2) Yes, it says you can "interact with, pet and feed" the ostriches, then go the dining room and eat them.


I'm speechless, Ossie. You can take it from here.

(Ossie's picture courtesy of classroomclipart.com)

Did you hear something?

I just burned another pot. I was reducing a sauce of pineapple juice, brown sugar, and butter and only turned away for a minute or two. When I checked on it, it was boiling away and the kitchen was filled with smoke and the smell of burnt sugar. I immediately removed the pan from the burner, turned off the heat, turned on a couple of exhaust fans, and opened the window.

Then the smoke alarm went off.

I've told you about this alarm before. It has been known to go crazy when I am boiling water, but let me almost burn the place down and it takes it's own sweet time sounding a warning.

Luckily, the only thing that burned was the sauce. The sweet potatoes and pineapple were waiting in another dish so I added a dash of brown sugar and a little butter and nuked them. They turned out pretty good so I don't think I'll bother making the sauce next time.

It will probably be safer.

Two to go, please.

I have some time to kill before I can go to work so here is a bonus post today. (I lifted these from the Suddenly Senior's web page. http://www.suddenlysenior.com).

Here's one for the guys.

TRULY AMAZING

It was entertainment night at the senior center and the Amazing Claude was topping the bill. People came from miles around to see the famed hypnotist do his stuff.

As Claude went to the front of the meeting room,he announced, "Unlike most hypnotists who invite two or three people up here to be put into a trance, I intend to hypnotize each and every member of the audience."

The excitement was almost electric as Claude withdrew a beautiful antique pocket watch from his coat. "I want you each to keep your eye on this watch. It's a very special watch. It's been in my family for six generations." He began to swing the watch gently back and forth while quietly chanting, "Watch the watch, watch the watch, watch the watch..."

The crowd became mesmerized as the watch swayed back and forth, light gleaming off its polished surface. Hundreds of pairs of eyes followed the swaying watch, until, suddenly, it slipped from the hypnotist's fingers and fell to the floor, breaking into a hundred pieces.

"Crap!" said the Hypnotist.

It took three weeks to clean up the senior center.


And one for the ladies. (This one was also purloined from Suddenly Senior for your amusement.)

GOOD IDEA

When Sarah's husband died, he left his entire life's savings of $30,000 to his wife. After everything was done at the funeral home and cemetery, Sarah told Gert, her closest friend, that the $30,000 was all gone.

Gert said, "How can that be?"

Sarah explained, "Well, the funeral cost me $6,500. And of course I made a donation to the church. That was $500, and I spent another $500 for the wake, food ad drinks, you know. The rest went for the memorial stone."

Gert gasped, "$22,500 for the memorial stone? My God, how big is it?"

Sarah replied, "Three carats."

Just rambling

I started my new Writing Mysteries course and it does have writing assignments, but I haven't got to them yet because I haven't finished the reading assignment yet. Before I start Lesson One, I'm supposed to read 12 chapters in one book and 5 in the other.

So why am I writing this instead of reading? I just wanted to say Hi, Have a nice day.

Did I tell you that I have learned that Roxie (Herb Smiley's mother) has a best friend Beatrice (aka Trixie)? Roxie and Trixie like river boat casinos. It also just occurred to me that they will probably volunteer to entertain the "old folks" at the local nursing home with the intention of performing a bawdy vaudeville or strip tease act.

They'll be singing a Gypsy Rose Lee song, Let me entertain you. (If you're under 50, I assure you that's nothing like the songs by the same title that you are thinking of, though it might be funnier if the audience thought Roxie & Trixie were going to sing Gypsy's song, but actually did the version by Robbie Williams.)

Life's a mystery - don't be clueless!

How much have we saved so far?

Today is the first day of Daylight Saving Time for Indiana and I'm still working on adjusting clocks to the "correct" time.

I started setting my clocks ahead about 9 o'clock last night and I still have at least two to go: the one on my VCR and the one in my car. Both will probably take till next fall before I get them right and then I'll have to do it again, but at least the directions will be fresh in my mind.

I woke this morning to a funny low-pitched sound that, while I was still mostly asleep, I attributed to rain. It wasn't rain, it was the timer on my stove. I never use that timer so I must have accidently set it when I reset the clock. I have no idea how it works, but I managed to shut the thing off. At least temporarily. I probably won't know till tonight if I was successful in silencing it permanently.

I have always heard that Indiana resisted Daylight Saving Time because we are an agriculture state and it would upset the cows. I wonder how they feel this morning. While waiting for Farmer John to get to the barn for the morning milking, did Bossy look at Elsie and say, "What time is it, anyway?"


Even the cows think DST is utterly ridiculous.



(Cartoon cows courtesy of austin.about.com)