My personal digest of writings are meant to be bizarre, unusual,
perhaps at times risqué, possibly insane, and I would like to think
somewhat humorous. I issue these on a semi-regular basis, as the
whim and time present themselves. Back issues are kept with the idea
that someday, I might write a book of humorous stories.
I’ve always shared humorous stories and ideas via e-mail with
my closest friends. I have always contented that I invented blogging!
Sometimes I meet people for the very first time, and they’ve been
receiving forwards of my emails for months (and these are people
I might have otherwise judged to be normal).
Today, I think the readership is probably over 1000. It certainly has
become larger than I ever thought it would be!
I must admit that I am very happy that there are so many slightly
“unhinged” people out there, and not surprisingly, many of you are in
positions of great importance in this world.
We need a little more humor and somewhat less routine in our lives.
It is my pleasure to produce these yucks with that goal in mind, and I
thank all of you who have contributed to that greater good of my
efforts.
- Page down for more -
Snake Fishin'
One day last April, I begrudgingly agreed to do some yard work with my wife, who'd been nagging…um…suggesting that we get grass seed growing in the back yard. "If you want to have breakfast, or a place to sleep tonight, you'd better go get your keys, get in your truck and go buy me a load of topsoil .... and on your way home, stop at Lowe's to get me some sod”.
Since I really don’t know what she is capable of (because I have never really pushed her), I quickly found myself preparing to leave.
Just as I was exiting the back yard, a garter snake cruised across the ground directly under my feet, I was slightly alarmed at first, but then noticed he was just traveling through. Moseying along, he was just performing the snake's equivalent of a Sunday stroll, so I let him go about his daily rounds. Of course, I felt it important to bring his presence to my wife's attention so I pointed to the ground and calmly said, "Snake."
The reaction was impressive to say the least. She started by jumping up and down several times with both legs going so high in the air that her knees almost touched her ears. Each time she vaulted there was an accompanying short barking sound, something between a pigs "oink" and a karate yell. The performance then took on a more artistic appearance when she began loping along like a gazelle. She took exceptionally long strides, her feet touching the ground for approximately .003 seconds during each step. After making it about twenty yards, she made a magnificent leap and clung to the privacy fence as if she were wearing a Velcro shirt. Frankly, I was stunned. Never would I have believed that Mary had that kind of talent for the triple jump. I left her hanging there to go call the Olympic Committee, I want to get her a tryout.
Snakes and I have usually had a rough relationship. It's not that I really have anything against snakes; they just seem to sneak up on me at the worst times. It doesn't help that I've never taken the time to learn to identify the poisonous species from the non-poisonous, but when you're out fishing and look down to see a snake swimming toward the back of your boat, you rarely have time to whip out an identification chart.
Around where I grew up, black snakes seemed to be the most prevalent. I'm not sure if these snakes are technically listed as "aggressive," but the ones I have encountered seemed to have the general attitude of one of my kids who's had their cell phone taken away. Not outwardly aggressive, but they don’t look like you would want to provoke them. Whenever I come across one, it seems like something happens to put it in a bad mood and I become the target of its aggression.
One particular incident happened several years ago during a warm spring day on
Once we got onto the water, it was clear that my brothers idea of fishing was far different from mine. The first clue was when he asked what kind of stink bait I had brought. Since we were out to find smallmouth bass, I tied on a yellow curly tail jig to his line and hoped he'd get the hang of fishing without a chicken liver and a bobber the size of a hubcap. For most of the day, he sat in the back of the boat vowing to show me how REAL fishing was done. I also remember that he was drinking too much.
Well we'd just pulled the boat into this beautiful little cove with submerged timber, chunk rock, shale and red clay banks. I started catching some fair sized Redears when my brother said, "Look at those water snakes playin' around over there." Sure enough, about twenty yards away a pair of snakes were out cruising on the water, but they didn't seem to be causing any harm, so I didn't give them another thought.
After a few minutes, he said, "Let me see your tackle box." So, naturally I handed it over to him. The next thing I know the boat rocks violently, and I hear him holler, "I GOT ONE". Looking to the end of his line, I immediately recognize that offering him my tackle box was a big mistake. Apparently, he tied on the biggest, ugliest, four treble hook lure in my tackle box and set out to snag a snake…and with obvious success.
As he reeled the snake in, he was laughing like he was having the time of his life. Every once in a while he'd interject a comment like, "He's a FIGHTER, boy! or Whoo hooo!"
The more sensible occupant of the boat (me!) had taken on a much different stance on the situation, and as the snake got closer to the boat, the commotion created by the "Non-Snake Angler" (me again) increased accordingly.
From the front of the boat, I began to frantically search for a knife to cut the line; I tried to avoid the situation but, my brother had pulled the snake right up to the boat and the snake, recognizing the cause of his discomfort, lifted his head and crawled, almost jumped in the boat, in my opinion, he was seeking out retribution.
The next thing I remember, I woke up, curled up in the fetal position, on top of the drivers seat, with a shattered oar in my hand and a terribly bludgeoned snake on the floor in front of me. That's when I first noticed a hole in the boat floor, right where I had apparently been pounding on the snake for the last several minutes... we began to take on water.
Thinking back, the swim to the shore wasn't so bad. Of course, there were TWO snakes on the water when I first saw them, and the thought of the other snake seeking revenge did cross my mind. That's probably why I think you would call it more like a long jump and not so much of a swim.
I have always heard that snake is good to eat but, I bet the snakes at Dale Hollow would taste like fish and probably would not be good to eat. Do you eat fish? I don't eat fish. Have you ever smelled dead fish?
"Uh…Hello, United States Special Olympic Committee? Yes I was wondering what I needed to do to get my wife a try out for the triple jump event."
A GOOD DAY GONE BAD
So, at lunch today, I decide I would take a break and wash my truck. It was such a beautiful day!
As I got up from my desk to start toward the garage, I notice that there was mail lying on my desk. I decide to go through the mail before I washed the truck. I laid my keys down on the couch, separated the bills out and put the junk mail in the trashcan next to my desk. Then I noticed that the trash can was full.
So, I decide to put the bills back on the desk and take out the trash first.
But then I thought, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the trash anyway, I may as well do Mary a BIG favor and pay the bills for her first. I can drop them in the mailbox when I take out the trash.(please don’t tell her about this part, she would not like me being anywhere near her checkbook)
Anyway, I open Mary’s checkbook, and see that there is only one check left.
I know her extra checks are in the drawer in the dining room, so I go into the next room, where I find this can of Coke that I had been drinking earlier that morning.
I have every intention of looking for those checks, but first I need to put the Coke somewhere so that I don't accidentally knock it over and stain Mary's handmade tablecloth.
I notice that the Coke is getting warm, so I decide I should put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.
As I head toward the kitchen with the coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye, Mary called earlier and asked me to be sure to water those flowers.
I set the Coke down on the counter, and there sits my reading glasses (that I've been searching for all morning).
I decide I better put them down on my desk, but first I'm going to water those flowers for Mary.
I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly I see the TV remote sitting on the bar in the kitchen.
How it got on the bar in the kitchen I will never know (I am sure it was Mary)
I realize that tonight when I finally go to watch TV, I will be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the bar in the kitchen, so I decide to put it back on my TV tray in the living room where it belongs, but first I'll water the stupid flowers.
I splash some water on the flowers, but naturally most of it spills on the floor.
So, I set the remote back down on the bar, get some paper towels and wipe up the spill.
Then I head back downstairs trying to remember what I was planning to do in the first place.
Here I am, at the end of the day:
The truck isn't washed, the bills aren't paid, there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter, the flowers aren't watered, there is still only one check in Mary’s checkbook, I can't find the remote, I can't find my glasses, and I don't remember what I did with my keys.
I am trying to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all day long, and I'm really tired.
I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll send some e-mail!
Oh no, there are my fishing poles leaned up against the wall and I gotta go through my tackle box. But, I have to pack for the trip to
I LOVE MY WIFE
When I took "early retirement" last year, it became necessary for Mary to continue to work at her full-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after I started this new job, I noticed she was beginning to show her age.
I usually finish up in my home office about the same time she gets home from work. Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table.
I generally have lunch at some fancy pants diner or grill, so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home cooked grub when I get done working 3-4 hours in my office at home.
She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now, it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that “those dishes won't clean themselves”. I know she appreciates this, and it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.
I really think my experience as a training instructor helps a lot. I consider telling people what they ought to do as one of my strong points...
She also seems to get tired so much more quickly. Our washer and dryer are upstairs next to the bedrooms.. Sometimes she says she just can't make another trip up and down those steps. I don't make a big issue of this; as long as she finishes up the laundry the next evening, I'm willing to overlook it. Not only that, but unless I need something ironed to wear the next day, I will tell her to wait until the next evening to do the ironing.. This gives her a little more time to do some of those odds and ends like shampooing the dog, vacuuming or dusting...
Another symptom of aging is complaining. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. Look, I took her “for better or worse”, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much.
I like to think tact is another one of my strong points.
She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the yard yesterday. I tried not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I told her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, since she was making one for herself, she could make one for me too, and then I told her to take her break by my hammock. That way she could talk to me until I fell asleep.
I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Mary. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible!
However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your significant other (wife, girlfriend, pelvic affiliate) because of this letter, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other...
I know, I am probably going to hell for writing this, but if you breath a word of this to Mary, I will deny ever saying it!
By the way, I am JUST KIDDING!