Shedding Ruby

Receiving my first french kiss in years, I remembered what

a pleasant thing it was to do. Then I noticed my date trying to

pull a hair off of her tongue. It was one of Ruby’s hairs I’m sure.

I’m sure it came from my lips or my tongue. Ruby’s hairs float in

air, and had become attached to my lips before, I hoped it was not

from my tongue. My date was struggling to get this micro thin

hair off her tongue. I saw it and grabbed it with my thumb and

index finger. She didn’t mind, I just figured my tongue was in there

so my fingers would be OK. If you have an Australian Shepard you

have to be aware of their hair.

Me, Grandma, and Butchie

My grandmother’s hair was black and grey.  She often made silly faces.  These faces, combined with her quirky, eccentric behavior, made people laugh.  She often would purse her lips, bulge out her eyes, then suck in her cheeks.  She looked like an old fish.  Then she might chase Butchie, her rotund lover, her dog.  Around the kitchen they would go, with Grandma saying things over and over like, “Where is my ootie bootie boodums, my ootie bootie boodums.”

I was eating my second packet of Pop Tarts, double chocolate with sprinkles.  I was happy.  She had gotten them for me.  I was her rotund baby boy.

Horny Again

A ninety-six year old women starts getting horny again. She goes to the adult

toy store. “I need a sex toy”, she tells the man at the counter. He points at a

wall where there are many dildos hanging. “I’ll take that big red one” the great grandmother says.  “I cant sell you that” the salesmen smirks. “Why not”, granny says.

“Because that’s the fire extinguisher”.

My Funny Valentine

Desperate after my tiger left me, I asked out a woman who I hoped had loose morals.  We now have reached the one year mark.  I have some love for her.  When she gets mad and yells, her face looks like a raging gorilla, much like mine.  My horrible health has helped to make me a very insecure man.  I’m holding on to her like a life saver.  When she is not angry she can be an angel.

Driving with Grandma

Even as a small boy I knew to buckle up when riding with Grandma Ruth.  I liked to ride in the back and her massively fat dog, Butchie, sat up front.  Ruth Weisburger could not see over the dash of her Ford Granada. I often saw her hit the brakes and Butchie’s head would ram into the glove box.  Once when we were dropping off her cook, a black man called Old John–he sat in the back with me–she sideswiped three parked cars.

She gave up her freedom with little fuss after that. What a trooper!  This saved lives, at least Butchie’s life.  I miss her dearly.

A Toast to My Dad

Dad still enjoys moments of every day:

A bite of dessert, an afternoon snooze,

and, if no one is looking, a nice glass of booze.

He still laughs at my jokes–that is kind.

Especially since he can’t hear the punch lines.

He was a good provider although we had few perks.

When he came home from work, we’d hear, “Shut up, you jerks!”

Above all, he loved his wife Ann.                                                      Observing his life, you would say he is a good man.

We hope he lives many years. To Bob Lebherz, I say, Cheers!

Big Breasts, Broken Heart

“She had big breasts!” Shorty exclaimed as he came out of a room at my party.  “It was totally dark in there but I know she had big breasts.”  He held his hand in the air and made a squeezing motion followed by prolonged laughter.  Then Carol came out of the dark room.  She was my girlfriend.  Her shirt was undone.  She did have big breasts.  I looked at the ground.  I suffered a broken heart.

Best Day of My Life

This is going to be the best day of my life…..despite kidney dialysis, a new, rather moody female friend, a future that may include a kidney transplant, and moving from my home of fifty years.  I may resume a long dead sex life.  I am not going to live as long as my father, who is ninety seven.  The idea that I have a serious illness is making me live like today is going to be the best day of my life.

she told the police

My best friend told the police I beat her. They came to confiscate my guns. I loved her. I took care of her when she fell in the parking lot of the East street coffee shop and broke her wrist.  I told them I had a BB gun.  They left papers which she wrote and signed that I threw her down the stairs.  She left in the Chevy  Cruize I had co-signed a loan on. It took three months , lots of money and a Good Lawyer to rectify the situation.  I loved her.

Untidy Drawers

My expensive Boscov’s underwear are untidy in my old cherry dresser. They have never been straight.  I haven’t the patience to finish the job–that has always been OK with me.

I’m not the boss though: even in my room, my dogs run things.  Ruby, my Aussie has a bark so loud and shrill I must leave the room if she won’t stop.  Louie the 14th, my Petite Basset Griffon Vendeen can have such a dreadful smell both breath and body that I have to clean and clean.  It’s worth it to have their loving company and they don’t care about well-organized drawers.