Joker’s Luck

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In 1992 I went to culinary school in Baltimore.
After school I worked at Ocean City Burgers and Fries, at the Inner Harbor. After work was a long walk to my car in little Italy.
I had just passed Sabatino’s restaurant when I noticed three tall young black men coming toward me.
The one in the middle reached up and sprayed my face. I covered my face with my hands. I backed up and faced them, but I couldn’t see.
In an instant two Italian guys ran up and started swinging crowbars. They all ran off around the corner and I was alone. In the dark, eyes burning.

The two guys who saved me came walking back and the short one says,
“Why didn’t you hit the motherfucker?”
I told them I couldn’t see. They took me into their home,
helped me wash my eyes, and gave me two cream filled cannoli.
Those thugs were lucky. If I would’ve gotten my hands on my chef’s knife, I would have turned them into chopped liver.

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The End of Summer

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Summer is ending fast, so I decided to do my yearly swim from pole to pole at Greenbriar Lake.

The swimming area was crowded, so I swam out to the deep rope and started my lengthy swim.

Soon, I realize that people are moving to get in my way.  I understand my family and friends treating me badly, but is the general public against me too? 

I’m confronting all my enemies head on these days, so I splashed an old lady in the face, and, with an extra kick, passed by another woman and her ugly husband and then grabbed the final rope.  I made it.  As I walked through this strange group of people, I left them a salty trail of my urine.  If they drank some so be it.

Road Rage

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I must confess that at the age of eighteen I suffered an episode of road rage.
I was going 55 mph in the slow lane when I saw coming at me, very fast, maybe 85mph, a white Mercedes Benz. It came right up behind me, swerved at the last second, barely missing me and then went on by.
I saw it was a woman wearing a fancy wide-brimmed hat.

I went temporarily insane and floored the gas peddle of my VW Beetle.
I was able to pull up beside her. I lowered my window, raised my middle finger and screamed,
“Eat shit, Bitch!”
She was a very old lady and I startled her.
She pulled off the road, went into the grass and slid sideways.
I didn’t stop to help. If she got hurt it was my fault.
I felt bad for nearly one hour.

I think that what really made me mad was, when she swerved around me,
I dropped the piece of pizza I was eating onto the floor.

The Joker Goes Vegan

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Beyond my will I am being forced to become a vegetarian.

The nurse poked my finger for a blood sugar check, and she said molasses came out.

She then took my blood pressure–the meter exploded and tore her blouse wide open.

Goodbye Burger King Whopper, over the years you hurt me deeply.
Goodbye Popeyes whole menu, you broke my heart.
So long Prime Rib, I loved you as often as I could, but it’s over now.

As a vegetarian, I pledge to eat tremendous amounts of kale, tofu, bean curd, and spinach,
and never cut the cheese.

Health Scares

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My life is usually pretty good.
Every now and then some bad news or a health scare can make things tough.
This is when I have to keep a stiff upper lip, batten down the hatches, pull up my bootstraps, and summon up that inner courage to get through.
This week I have to get a biopsy on my kidney.
This test will determine what is causing so much damage to my kidneys.
Afterwards I have to wait six hours to see if the kidney stops bleeding properly.
I am hoping that there are some cute nurses, and I’m going to ask if I can spend the six hours in the cafeteria.

Scooting

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I was typing another great blog on my laptop when I noticed
my dog was sitting on his rear end and sliding his butt across
my freshly vacuumed bedroom carpet. I googled, dog is sliding butt
on carpet and l learned that this is called scooting. I also made a note to get carpet cleaned.

To my chagrin I found out that his butt could be infected. Hair removal, and a
stream of warm water applied to this area was what the internet ordered. I know my
dog and his high strung ways. When I grabbed his tail I had my oven mitten on. I raised his tail and shot water into his butt I expected him to give me a bite. Unbelievably, he seemed to
enjoy this. and there was a smile on his face, and I couldn’t stop his tail from wagging.

The scooting stopped, the vet bill was avoided. The operation was a success.

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