Of Men and Mice

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I decided to clean the old shed.
When I moved a board resting in a dark corner, a mouse jumped up and ran towards me. I’m a large man, 255 pounds (give or take fifty), and yet I let out a scream. The mouse retreated, possibly from the high-pitched scream, and ran behind a stack of framed porch screens. My cleaning stopped immediately as I was too afraid of this two inch monster to continue.
Maybe I have watched too many horror movies–I was certain this mouse could jump six feet in the air and bite me in the face, possibly disfiguring me for life. I then noticed more movement. With a shudder, I realized it was a small toad.
I just wanted to clean the shed, now I find a mouse and a toad have been shacking up in there, and if anything else jumps out, I’m going to shit my pants. I don’t like to kill anything except stinkbugs, so I thought maybe I could blow them away with the leaf blower from long range. The blower worked, and they exited quickly. I’m hoping they can make a go of it in the tough world outside the shed.

Sins of a Fourth Grader

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Every third Friday of the month, it was required that all fourth graders at St Johns Elementary go to confession. We had to go into a dark booth where a priest would slide back a small door, hear our sins, and give us our penance.
You had to have your sins ready before you went in.

One visit I didn’t have them ready, so I made some up.
“Father, I was looking up Katy Snoots’ dress, I jabbed a pencil in the teacher’s rear end, and I waited for a quiet moment in class and farted.”

The penance was quite tough: thirty Hail Marys, thirty Our Fathers.
To leave the church without saying these prayers was a mortal sin. Getting close to the last prayer I had a tremendous urge to pee. I was the only one kneeling at the altar and not wanting to wet my pants, I pulled down my zipper and let it go. A puddle formed at the feet of a statue of Mother Mary. This sin was never confessed.
One day I may enter the fiery gates of hell.

Young, Wild, and Hungry

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I once lived for two weeks in a tiny Ford Festiva.
Everything in my life had gone bad: no job, no home, no money. I still had my car, and at that young age I was not worried. But when my food ran out I did get a little wild.
I went into a bar called, The Old Town Tavern. I sat next to a very large, round woman. She was chugging beers, and doing shots of tequila. She invited me to her apartment. I looked at her and thought, “There has to be a lot of food there.”

While I was looking in her loaded refrigerator, she had gone into the bathroom. I was shocked when I walked into her room. She’d put on a small black teddy. She said “I’m messed up and I want to fool around.”

I was younger then, I was hungry, and, unbelievably, I had a boner. I climbed on top of her and gave it my best for about 2 minutes.
As I was getting up and off, she asked me, “Is it in yet?”
I said “I’m not sure.”

Then I went to the kitchen, grabbed two bagels and a box of Velveeta, and ran out the door.
Oh to be young again!

She is coming

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She has agreed to move in with me. I am going to clean my house, and brush my teeth regularly. She drinks white wine. I may pick up ten bottles. She does not like marijuana. I am quitting next week. She could be after my money. I don’t have any. She says that she loves me. I don’t know if that is true, but it is sure nice to hear.

The Irishman, the Leprechaun, and the Pony

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An Irishman is walking through the forest, and he comes upon a leprechaun, a pony, and two small children. The leprechaun calls to him: “Irishman, this pony can tell your age!”
“That pony cannot tell me age,” the Irishman yells back.

The leprechaun motions to the larger child and says, “Sissy, get behind that pony.”
Sissy gets behind the pony, and the pony moves it’s hoof six times.
“Sissy,” says the leprechaun, “how old are you?”
“Six,” replies Sissy.
The leprechaun yells, “Irishman this pony can tell your age!”
“That pony cannot tell me age!” the Irishman yells back.

The leprechaun motions to the smaller child and says, “Tommy, get behind the pony.”
The boy, Tommy, gets behind the pony, and the pony moves its hoof two times.
“How old are you Tommy?” the leprechaun says.
“Two,” Tommy says.
“Irishman, this pony can tell your age,” the leprechaun yells again.

The Irishman jumps behind the pony. The pony’s tail raises up and a loud release of gas is heard. The pony moves his hoof two times. The Irishman turns around with a smile on his face and says,
“That is amazing, me being a farty-two!”

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My Old Girl

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For years I carried a condom in my wallet. Then, when I finally needed it, I opened it up, and it looked like a bunch of shredded rubber bands.
I met this woman. We dated, and she was always asking me for money. Twice I caught her going into my wallet. She was cold-hearted and never wanted sex.
That’s when it occurred to me:
this woman was just like my old condom–always in my wallet, never on my wiener.

Cooking School

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I was glad to see that the chef who taught my first class at culinary school was beautiful. She was funny, smiled a lot, and was a good instructor. Almost every class she would excuse herself and then leave the classroom for five to ten minutes.

One day she was trussing up a chicken and asked a student, James, to come up to the demonstration table and help her. When he finished and sat back down, he informed the rest of us that she smelled like Gin. The fact that she was drinking on the job did not bother us. Sometimes at night, drinking together after class, we would raise our beers and say, “This one’s for Chef Kathy.”

Then came one class when she was showing us how to de-bone a lamb. She sliced her finger–a deep cut–and she was unaware of what had happened. The blood dripped over the lamb like a red gravy. Somebody yelled, “Chef, you cut your finger.”
Chef Kathy ran out of the room. We wondered, was she going to belt down some gin for the pain or pour some on her finger?