wbd1213
The Prodigal Employee – Part 2
You would think that after publicly humiliating my employee last week for not showing up on time (she was sleeping), that would be extra incentive to show up on time this week, maybe even a bit earlier. But NOOOOO!!!
I get an excited call this morning around 9:15 to 9:20. "I'm still planning on coming to work!" she says.
"I can't find my keys to the car! Pray that I find them!"
I'm thinking to myself, "Pray that you still have a job."
I say,"hmmmmmmm….this seems to be developing into a habit…."
She cuts me off. "OK, see ya!" She hangs up. I get no respect.
She finally came and stayed a little longer to make up for lost time. I can hardly wait to see what next week's chapter in "The Prodigal Employee" will reveal.
The Prodigal Employee – Part 1
Generally, my faithful employee shows up on time. However, this morning was different. I call her at 9:30 am. "Where are you?" I ask.
"Huh? ummmm? Yawn….What time is it?"
"It's 9:30!"
"Oh! It's Thursday! I was sleeping….I forgot…."
"Really?" I responded. "I hadn't noticed."
"Do you still want me to come in?" she asks.
"No, of course not." I replied. "That's why I'm calling you. To encourage you to take it easy and continue sleeping!"
"I can be there in about 20 min…OK?"
"That would be nice."
"Oh, I might have to leave early today!" she says
I hang up.
Church Jokes
A woman called on the Baptist minister and asked him if he would preach a funeral for her dog who had just died. "I can't do that, ma'am," he said. "Why don't you try the Presbytarian minister?"
"All right," she said, "but can you give me some advice. How much should I pay him – three hundred dollars or four hundred dollars?"
"Hold on," he said, "I didn't know your dog was Baptist!"
Hymns for People Over 50
Give Me the Old Timers Religion
Precious Lord, Take My Hand, And Help Me Up
Just a Slower Walk with Thee
Go Tell It on the Mountain, But Speak Up
Nobody Knows the Trouble I Have Seeing
Guide Me O Thou Great Lord God, I've Forgotten Where I've Parked The Car
Count Your Many Birthdays, Count Them One By One
Blessed Insurance
It Is Well With My Soul, But My Knees Hurt
Boaz
What kind of man was Boaz before he married Ruth?
ANS: Ruthless.
Lawbreaker
Which man in the Bible was the most flagrant lawbreaker?
ANS: Moses. He broke all ten commandments at once.
Joining a Health Club
People ask me if I'm "in shape." Is that a rhetorical question? I mean,you're standing in front of someone with an Adonis-like body, and you ask a silly question like that?
Of course I'm in shape. My shape just happens to be "round."
Part of my overall plan this year is to get healthy and develop the 6-pack rippling muscles that lie just slightly hidden under my skin. So, to actualize this reality, I joined a local health club along with my son.
Last night we went down to the club for our first father/son workout. My fellow athletes at the club must have been impressed with us as we walked in. Heads turned as they smiled at us and exchanged hushed words with each other. No doubt, it had been a long time since they have seen such fine specimens of men.
I was on the treadmill for at least 10 minutes. By then I was getting winded and began to build a sweat. My son running on the machine next me suggested I might want to turn the machine "on." "Oh!" I said. No wonder I'm building up such a sweat.
I next tackled the stationary bike. I looked at the chart that displays the recommended heart rate based on age. "Hmmm…," I said as I looked for my age. "There it is!" as I looked to the extreme right of the chart. Under my age it stated, "Get out the paddles, you're going to need them soon!" I figured they must have misspelled 'peddles."
Next, I tried the weight pull which required me, while seated, to pull a heavy weight to my upper chest. "Piece of cake!" I thought as my head turned and surveyed the other athletes, no doubt watching me and impressed with my every move by now.
"Wow! That's heavy!" I said to my son. "Maybe I should take a little weight off to make it easier."
He looked at the machine weight and responded, "Dad, it doesn't go any lower than 10-lbs."
"Never mind, I can do it!" Just to impress him more, I said, "Add another 40 lbs."
After 3 reps of 10, I "felt the burn!" I mean I was sweating and feeling uncomfortably hot.
Exhausted and looking for a way to get out of this metal jungle and still maintain my pride, I turned to my son and said, "OK son, I think you've challenged yourself tonight. You don't want to overdo it. Whadda-you say we call it a night?"
Thankfully, he agreed. Obviously, our muscles surging and pumping left quite an impression as we strutted out of the club.
This morning, my left am is in so much "PAIN!!!!" I can't even stretch it out straight. This exercise program may be the death of me yet.
The Stove
OK…here's the story. I turn on the front burner. My wife says, "Don't use that burner. It only goes directly to hot." So I turn it off and turn on the back burner. Then she says, "Don't use that burner either. It doesn't work. It must have something to do with you not seating the 2-burner module properly when you removed it yesterday to clean under it." So I turn off that burner.
I pull out the 2-burner module and flip over the module to check the bottom. Why? That is a question I have asked myself several times since the event, considering there's nothing on the bottom of the module. Now this is where the story gets interesting.
The full weight of the module, burner side down, came to rest on the inside of my tender, yet supple, upper arm. Problem was (remember what my wife said about the front burner?) the burner was still extremely hot. I didn't think it had time to heat up since I turned it off so quickly. Apparently, I was wrong.
The front burner seared into my flesh like a hot branding iron leaving 7 distinct impressions of the coils of the burner. The first thought that came into my mind was, "Golly Gee. That's awfully hot!"
I screamed like a little girl and dropped the module onto the stove and ran to the sink to put cold water onto the burns. My wife, hearing my cries, came running from the living room. "What happened?" her concerned voice asked.
"I burned myself on the stove!" as I sniffled and showed her my blistering 2nd degree burn wounds. Her mouth fell open in amazement and, as any caring woman of heart-felt sensitivity would convey in an emergency situation, said "Boy, that was a stupid thing to do!" "Why would you do that?"
I thought to myself, "Why didn't I think to ask myself that question?"
I went to the doctor this morning. "Why are you here?" he asked.
"I burned myself," hoping for some needed sympathy as I pulled up my sleeve and revealed the extensive damage. Instead of sympathy, he chuckled and paused for just a moment, as if he had just received an epiphany, "say that looks like the coils of a stove burner!" "Is that a 'GE' logo in the middle of the burns?"
"Ha-ha…don't give up on your day job, Doc."
Needless to say, with the potential of long-term scarring, I'm thinking people might see the scars on my arms and confuse me with being a gangbanger. What sup, dog?!
A Night on the Town
My wife and I went to Ivar's Seafood and Chowder House for dinner tonight. We asked for it "to go." The manager, a middle-aged man who looked very tired from working all day, was putting our clam chowder into the bag.
"Silverware?" he asked with blank stare.
"You mean 'plastic-ware?" I queried.
Once again with a blank stare, he asked more firmly and a little louder, "Silverware??!"
I responded, "Uhhhhh….ummmmm…sure."
He reached over to his "silverware" tray and grabbed a plastic spoon and fork and placed them into the bag.
I politely thanked him, took the bag, and left anticipating a night of 'fine-dining."
I Once Swallowed a …
I once swallowed a bee, and broke out in hives.
I once swallowed an atom bomb, and had a-tomic ache.
I once swallowed a bullet and my hair came out in bangs.
I once swallowed a pillow, and as a result felt a little down in the mouth.
I knew a guy who swallowed two pennies. It didn't make cents.
I asked my doctor what I should do since I swallowed a roll of film. He said, "Let's just wait and see what develops."
Cereal
I walked into the kitchen early this morning for a quick bowl of cereal before I darted off to meet someone. As I was about to grab a bowl from the upper cabinet, my eye caught what appeared (and was) to be a crack in our granite counter top by the sink.
Since the counter top was less than a year old and had been expensive to install, I was pretty upset. My mind was totally focused on the crack as I poured my cereal into the "bowl."
My focus was interrupted as cereal began to pour out all over the counter. Instead of a bowl, I had grabbed a small plastic drinking cup with a diameter of about 3". Sometimes 'auto-pilot' in the morning is not always the best choice. 🙂
Senior Citizen
I was sent this story today and it made me laugh. So true!
$5.37 I am not a Senior!!!! or am I?????
$5.37! That's what the kid behind the counter at Taco Bell said to me.
I dug into my pocket and pulled out some lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I started to head back out to the truck to grab some change when the kid with the Elmo hairdo said the hardest thing anyone has ever said to me.
He said, "It's OK. I'll just give you the senior citizen discount."
I turned to see who he was talking to and then heard the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me.
"Only $4.68" he said cheerfully.
I stood there stupefied. I am 56, not even 60 yet? A mere child! Senior citizen?
I took my burrito and walked out to the truck wondering what was wrong with Elmo. Was he blind? As I sat in the truck, my blood began to boil. Old? Me? I'll show him, I thought.
I opened the door and headed back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was waiting with a smile. Before I could say a word, he held up something and jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily distracted!
What am I now? A toddler?
"Dude! Can't get too far without your car keys, eh?"
I stared with utter disdain at the keys. I began to rationalize in my mind! "Leaving keys behind hardly makes a man elderly! It could happen to anyone!"
I turned and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn't turn. What now? I checked my keys and tried another. Still nothing.
That's when I noticed the purple beads hanging from my rear view mirror. I had no purple beads hanging from my rear view mirror. Then, a few other objects came into focus: The car seat in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the floorboard. A partially eaten dough nut on the dashboard. Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the alien vehicle.
Moments later I was speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish stop in my life. That is when I felt it, deep in the bowels of my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I reached to grab my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found.
I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Elmo stood, draped in youth and black nail polish.
All I could think was, "What is the world coming to?"
All I could say was, "Did I leave my food and drink in here"?
At this point I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security benefits. Elmo had no clue. I walked back out to the truck, and suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get my attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag.
His mother explained, "I think you left this in my truck by mistake."
I took the food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly apologized.
She offered these kind words: "It's OK. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time."
All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in a 40 mph zone. Yessss, I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius.
And no, I told the officer, I'm not too old to be driving this fast.
As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300 speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a blankey.
The good news was that I had successfully found my way home.
Where’s a Cop when you need ’em?
Driving could be an enjoyable endeavor if it weren't for all the other idiots driving around you. How many times have you wished, when some clown cuts you off or does something dangerous or stupid, that there was a cop around?
I'm driving to work this morning in a 35mph zone. Peering into the rear view mirror, I see this large SUV (Escalade) quickly bearing down on me. I glance at my speedometer and see that I'm doing about 38mph.
The vehicle is so close, I can see the driver as clear as a person sitting in my back seat. Thinking to myself, "I wonder what his problem is and why he's in such a hurry?"
He's a young guy (late 20's) with his 'fancy smancy' sunglasses. I decide I will not be intimidated and maintain my speed.
"Lucky for him that I'm not driving my truck 'Bad Boy' (quite possibly one of the biggest and baddest trucks on the road)," I mutter to myself.
I turn into the left turn lane to turn onto a 5-lane road (two each way with center turn lane). He follows me as though he is my Siamese twin. As we turn left, I quickly signal and move over to the right-hand lane as he roars past me (no doubt to let me know how I've inconvenienced him).
"Where's a cop when you need one?!!!" I ask.
No sooner than I spoke those words, a police cruiser goes sailing past me with siren and lights flashing. I thought to myself, "He's probably headed to some call and not after the clown that tailgated me like crazy."
To my surprise, he pulls Mr. Fancy Smancy Pants over only a few yards from where my business is. As I turn onto my street, I yell "JUSTICE!!!" (my windows were closed) and chuckle to myself.
Today has started out well…