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!

Garbage Disposal

Recently while mixing my protein shake, the little flip top broke off the lid for my shaker cup. That little piece of plastic would now be classified as garbage. Ironically, it went straight down the garbage disposal. I didn’t have time to try to retrieve it then and soon forgot about it. A few days later we had a cook-out. The left over beans were put down the disposal and when we turned it on, there was a short-lived, extremely loud crunching sound – much too crunchy for baked beans. That’s when I realized what had happened. We really didn’t buy a GARBAGE disposal.

Speed Trap

On a recent trip I was talking on the phone to with my hands-free headset as I often do. I had entered a work zone and orange barrels were everywhere. I passed a motorcycle and realized that what looked to be his turn signals were blue, not red. Uh-oh! That's about the time those blue lights started flashing and the siren started wailing. Other than those tiny, round blue lights, there was no sign this was a police. I pulled over, gathered my license & registration and watched my mirror for him to walk up. However, he seemed to have disappeared! I didn't see him anywhere! All of a sudden three was a LOUD tap on the passenger side window. I think he used that big flashlight to knock. I lowered the window and he asked if I knew I was speeding. I told him that I didn't and apologized for passing him. He said, "I wish I could help you out some, but you WERE in a construction zone." He turned to go back to his bike and there was now a HUGE banner on his back that said POLICE. He must have a cord he pulls to let that unfold, sort of like James Bond. He gave me a ticket for $250 and suggested I come to the court date so the judge could possibly lower the fine. Since the town was only a couple hours away and I have a friend in that town I decided to go. When it was my turn to talk to the judge, he said, "How do you plead?" I respectfully told him I was guilty. He responded, "Then why are you here?" I told him I came in hopes he could lower my fine. He looked at me as if I were nuts, then said, "Do you realize you were in a WORK ZONE?" He didn't reduce my fine, but on the bright side he did lower my court costs to just $50 to cover my 'trial.' I should have just sent the check, but would have had to drive through a work zone to get to the post office.

Recentl at my mom's funeral, my five-year old nephew had been given strict instructions on what he could and could not do. He’d not been told what he couldn’t say. He walked up, gave a sigh and said, “I sure wish I could pick my nose.”

Thanks for laughing. We laughed too.