Fifi

Fifi is Julie's standard size French poodle. Together they look like a walking 1950's ad for an exclusive couture fashion house. Both chic, confident, and graceful. Do you know the song that does, "Have you ever seen a dream walking? Well, I have" ? People hum it when they go by.

You would think by looking at them that they'd be high maintence. You'd also think "But they're worth it." And you'd be right on both counts. Although Fifi loves a good romp in the park and Julie is quite comfortable in blue jeans and bare feet, they both adore pampering.

Fifi is now leading our Scrabble rankings after only a few games. She has attained such a high ranking score that I dispair of ever attaining the top position so I have banned her from futher play.

Bugging Out

Bill was sitting at home one evening when the doorbell rang. When he answered the door, a 6 foot tall cockroach was standing there. the cockroach immediately punched him between the eyes and scampered off.

The next evening, the doorbell rang again. When Bill answered the door, there was the cockroach. This time, it punched him, kicked him and karate chopped him before running away.

The third evening, the doorbell rang, and when Bill answered the door, the cockroach was there yet again. It leapt at him and stabbed him several times before running off.

Badly injured, Bill managed to crawl to the telephone and summon an ambulance. He was rushed to intensive care, where they managed to pull him through.

The next morning, as the doctor was doing his rounds, he asked Bill what happened.

Bill explained about the 6-foot cockroach's attacks, culminating in the near fatal stabbing.

The doctor thought for a moment and said, "Yes, there's a nasty bug going around.

[This story came from an irreverant site for seniors: http://www.suddenlysenior.com/jokeslatest.html]

Only the Lonely

Yesterday, I heard a strange story on one of those daytime TV talk shows that specialize in the weird and ridiculous. This story may be true.

The guest of the day, an attractive older lady named Madeline, had lost her husband about a year earlier and was very lonely. She missed him much more than she could ever have imagined and visited his grave almost daily,staying for hours at a time. Madeline claimed that during one of her visits, a frog hopped up to her feet and seemed to say "I'm lonely. Please take me home with you."

"Oh, why not?", she asked herself. "I may be losing my mind, but it will be something to talk to besides myself."

So she scooped him up and put him in the car. The frog sat on the back of the seat at her shoulder at she drove. She thought she heard him whispering in her ear, "Kiss me. You won't be sorry".

The old lady figured "What the heck? Maybe you'll turn into the proverbial prince".

At the next stop light, she lifted the frog from the back seat and laughingly kissed him. Immediately, the frog turned into an absolutely gorgeous, sexy, and handsome man. To say the least, she was speechless at seeing this Adonis sitting at her side.

"Thank you! Thank you!" he exclaimed, over and over. "A nasty, ugly witch put a terrible curse on me for refusing to kiss her. I thought I would never find someone to release me. How can I ever repay you?"

Then the handsome young man kissed Madeline right on the lips, right in broad daylight at the corner of 53rd and Vine. And the lonely old lady turned into ...

the first motel she could find.

Brad

I have been told that I am mistaken. Brad was not murdered. Some don't even believe he's dead. These people don't know Brad and probably don't care if he's dead or not. They just know Julie wouldn't, couldn't, have murdered him. They insist that I'm wrong. That I don't know what I'm talking about.

I know Brad is dead. I don't know yet who he is or why he had to die, but I know that Julie knows and I'm going to uncover the truth.

I need to know that I'm right about Brad. It's disconcerting to be told you're wrong. Especially when other people are telling you you're wrong about your imaginary friends.

Nothing to say

I've nothing to say. Oh, all right, I have plenty to say. I'm just too lazy to write about it. This isn't easy you know. It cuts into my doing-nothing-at-all time; and I think I have a blister on my index finger from typing.

I'm taking two on-line courses this term. One on Technical Writing and one called "Listen to Your Heart". There is a lot of homework in both, a lot of typing and, worst of all, the instructors expect you to actually think. Not just think up an answer, but to think about things.

My mind wanders when I try to think and it's not really safe to let it out alone like that.