Pocket Camera

About a month ago, I sat on my digital camera and broke the screen. It was in my back pocket. It's difficult to take pictures from there. Occasionally you get a good one though. I bought a new camera, just like the old one . . . except for the big crack. I told the lady at Target I sat on the old one and broke the screen. She asked how old it was. I told her I didn't know then I said, "Why, are they like our bones - get brittle with age?" She laughed. She asked which one I wanted to see. I pointed and told her the one that was closest to the one I broke. That way it will fit in my back pocket

Fresh Shrimp

While driving between shows one day in a very rural area I saw a series of signs along the side of the road, all hand painted. Peeches. Apals. Cukumbers. Potaters. Skwash. Each sign had a misspelled, single word on it. The signs were about two hundred yards apart and as they passed, I realized they were leading up to a road-side produce stand. Watermellens. Canterlope. Then finally one spelled correctly: Fresh Shrimp! The first thing through my mind was that they found their dicktionary. My bigger thought was that I was five hours inland – so just how fresh could these shrimp really be? Finally I wondered how these products even go together in the same stand. I spent $100.

Memory Foam

I bought some of those memory foam insoles for my shoes. After wearing them for a day I took one out and looked. The only thing they can remember now is "I don't want him standing on me anymore!"

Southern Culture

This morning I had to buy new tires. I always buy them at the same place my father bought them because when it comes to tires, us Southerners are loyal. This morning they were extremely busy. It’s a smaller place out in the country and they don’t have one of those signs saying you can’t come into the work area. In fact they have some old recliners and a sofa right beside where they work on the cars and tires. There’s no glass in between me and where the work gets done. It was like Floyd’s Barber Shop from the Andy Griffith Show listening to all the stories floating around. I was listening, but not really listening until I heard one elderly gentleman say, “When I realized I didn’t have my gun, I got back in the truck and left.” What? My ears perked up a bit. Later the same gentleman, who seemed to be doing all the talking, said, “I wish I could find who keeps lettin’ my donkeys out.” That’s when I realized . . . these people don’t need tires, they just buy them so they have someone to talk to!