SATURDAY:
THE REAL" STUFF" |
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Rod & Sunny: Photo by Bob Gentry
8/5/1999
A Thought for Today
If you can get through the low times (and you can) the high's will come.
So many of you send outrageous, silly, sentimental, absurd and downright dangerous belly laugh material to 'Pass It Along' and 'Saturday Stuff' that my E-box needs daily dusting. It all goes into a bulging file that threatens to need a hard drive of its own for containment.
The most frequent contributors include Nicky Williams, Bablaca, Kyletta Miller, Hugs and Molly, Sherilyn Bottoms, Sharon, Scoutmaster Wes and Dogs 103. {Apologies to those I've left off the list, I'm doing this from memory and on deadline.) Keep 'em coming please.
Then there's the Grand Mistress of Verbum, Coral (a.k.a. Stargirl). Her wit is totally omphalos and while knocking the stuffing out of assorted coxcombs she never
descends into schwarmerei or stoops to glory in schadenfreude at anyone's expense. In short, she's by turns wild, warm, witty and wanton (and I want some.) She doesn't push the envelope, she shreds it. Her contributions are many and my only worry about a lot of her submissions is what to share in a family friendly flight plan and what goodies to hold back so that my mail from the 'tsk, tsk brigade' will be held to a minimum.
This is nearly a Stargirl Saturday and Lord knows we can use the levity she provides.
A SOMBER NOTE
There's very little I can add to this except.....I love it.
I don't usually pass on sad news like this, but sometimes we need to pause and remember what life is about:
TO EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON
There was a great loss recently in the entertainment world. Larry LaPrise, the Detroit native who wrote the song "Hokey Pokey," died last week at 83.
It was especially difficult for the family to place him in the casket. They'd put his left leg in and...well, you know the rest.
BOTH SIDES NOW
Stargirl muses:
"Boy...Am I glad I don't have to make a choice.... except about my salad.....Now which'll it be.... the ranch or the vinaigrette?"
TRANSCRIPT OF THE REAL PRESIDENTIAL DEBATES
Jim Lehrer: Welcome to the second presidential debate between Vice President Al Gore and Gov. George W. Bush. The candidates have agreed on these rules: I will ask a question. The candidate will ignore the question and deliver
rehearsed remarks designed to appeal to undecided women voters.
The opponent will then have one minute to respond by trying to frighten senior citizens into voting for him. When a speaker's time has expired, I will whimper softly while he continues to spew incomprehensible statistics for three more minutes.
Let's start with the vice president. Mr. Gore, can you give us the name of a downtrodden citizen and then tell us his or her story in a way that strains the bounds of common sense?
Gore: As I was saying to Tipper last night after we tenderly made love the way we have so often during the 30 years of our
rock - solid marriage, the downtrodden have a clear choice in this election.
My opponent wants to cut taxes for the richest 1 percent of Americans. I, on the other hand, want to put the richest 1- percent in an ironclad lockbox so they can't hurt old people like Roberta Frampinhamper, who is here tonight. Mrs. Frampinhamper has been selling her internal organs, one by one, to pay for gas so that she can travel to these debates and personify problems for me. Also, her poodle has arthritis.
Lehrer: Gov. Bush, your rebuttal.
Bush: Governors are on the front lines every day, hugging people, crying with them, relieving suffering anywhere a photo opportunity exists. I want to empower those crying people to make their own decisions, unlike my opponent, whose mother is not Barbara Bush.
Lehrer: Let's turn to foreign affairs. Gov. Bush, if Slobodan Milosevic were to launch a bid to return to power in Yugoslavia, would you be able to pronounce his name?
Bush: The current administration had eight years to deal with that guy and didn't get it done. If I'm elected, the first thing I would do about that guy is have Dick Cheney confer with our allies. And then Dick would present me several options for dealing with that guy. And then Dick would tell me which one to choose.
You know, as governor of Texas, I have to make tough foreign policy decisions every day about how we're going to deal with New Mexico.
Lehrer: Mr. Gore, your rebuttal.
Gore: Foreign policy is something I've always been keenly interested in. I served my country in Vietnam. I had an uncle who was a victim of poison gas in World War I. I myself lost a leg in the Franco-Prussian War. And when that war was over, I came home and tenderly made love to Tipper in a way that any undecided woman voter would find romantic.
If I'm entrusted with the office of president, I pledge to deal knowledgeably with any threat, foreign or domestic, by putting it in an ironclad lockbox. Because the American people deserve a president who can comfort them with simple metaphors.
Lehrer: Vice President Gore, how would you reform the Social Security system?
Gore: It's a vital issue, Jim. That's why Joe Lieberman and I have proposed changing the laws of mathematics to allow us to give $50,000 to every senior citizen without having it cost the federal treasury a single penny until the year 2250. In addition, my budget commits $60 trillion over the next 10
years to guarantee that all senior citizens can have drugs delivered free to their homes every Monday by a federal employee who will also help them with the childproof cap.
Lehrer: Gov. Bush?
Bush: That's fuzzy math. I know, because as governor of Texas, I have to do math every day. I have to add up the numbers and decide whether I'm going to fill potholes out on Rt. 36 east of Abilene, commit funds to reroof the sheep barn at the Texas state fairgrounds or execute three or four death row inmates at once in order to save electricity. And while I recognize that they exist I don't feel the sanctity of marriage should be extended to Homosapians or Lithuanians.
Lehrer: It's time for closing statements.
Gore: I'm my own man. I may not be the most exciting politician, but I will fight for the working families of America, in addition to turning the White House into a lusty pit of marital love for Tipper and me.
Bush: It's time to put aside the partisanship of the past by electing no one but Republicans. My daddy told me so. And Mama says you better do it if you know what's good for you'
Lehrer: Good night.
AMEN
Coral's comment:
"So much truth in humour!"
AND THEN SOME
One day, Mr. Jones spoke to the minister of his church.
"Reverend," he said, "I have a problem. My wife keeps falling asleep during your sermons. It's very embarrassing. What should I do?"
"I have an idea," the minister said. "Take this hat pin with you. I'll be able to tell when your wife is asleep and I'll motion to you to give her a good poke in the leg."
The following Sunday, Mrs. Jones dozed off during the sermon. Noticing this, the preacher put his plan into action. "And who made the ultimate sacrifice for you?" he said, and nodded to Mr. Jones.
"Jesus!" Mrs. Jones cried out as her husband jabbed her in the leg with the pin.
"That's right, Mrs. Jones!" said the minister.
Soon, Mrs. Jones nodded off again. Again the minister noticed. "Who is your redeemer?" he cried out to the congregation, again motioning to Mr. Jones.
"God!" Mrs. Jones yelled as she was again stuck with the pin.
"Right again!" said the minister, smiling. Before long, Mrs. Jones again winked off. However, this time the minister didn't notice. As he picked up the tempo of his sermon, he made a few motions that Mr. Jones mistook as signals to
bayonet his wife with the hatpin again.
At that point, the minister cried, "And what did Eve say to Adam after she bore him his 99th son?"
Mr. Jones poked his wife who yelled, "You stick that damn thing in me one more time and I'll break it in half and shove it up your ass!"
"Amen," replied the ladies of the congregation.
A HEAD OF THE GAME
"Sick but funny....or maybe funny but....awww hell... you know what I mean."
A GROWN IS AS GOOD AS A MOAN
A man is waiting for his wife to give birth. The doctor comes in and informs the dad that his son was born without torso, arms or legs. The son is just a head!
The dad loves his son and raises him as well as he can, with
love and compassion. After 21 years, the son is old enough for his first drink; dad takes him to the bar, tearfully tells the son he is proud of him and orders up the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously and the bartender shaking his head in disbelief, the boy takes his first sip of alcohol.
Swoooop! A torso pops out!
The bar is dead silent; then bursts into a whoop of joy. The father, shocked, begs his son to drink again. The patrons chant, "Take another drink"! The bartender still shakes his
head in dismay.
Swoooop! Two arms pop out.
The bar goes wild.
The father, crying and wailing, begs his son to drink again.
The patrons chant, "Take another drink"! The bartender ignores the whole affair. By now the boy is getting tipsy, and
with his new hands he reaches down, grabs his drink and guzzles the last of it.
Swoooop! Two legs pop out.
The bar is in chaos.
The father falls to his knees and tearfully thanks God. The boy stands up on his new legs and stumbles to the left ... then to the right ... right through the front door, into the street, where a truck runs over him and kills him instantly.
The bar falls silent.
The bartender sighs and says, "That boy should have quit while he was a head."
GROANER
Groan! This one arrived from Joe Teggart,
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
Two tourists were driving through
Wales and were approaching
"Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch". They started arguing about the pronunciation of the town's
name and they argued back and forth until they stopped for lunch. As they stood at the counter, one tourist asked the employee, "Before we order, could you please settle an argument for us? Would you please pronounce where we are?
Very slowly?"
The girl leaned over the counter and said..."Burrrrrrrr...gerrrrrrr Kiiiiing.
TWO SCOOPS PLEASE, ONE BLONDE, ONE BRUNETTE
Kyletta and Nicky both submitted this
BUS STOP
Two tourist groups, one made up of all blondes and one of all brunettes, charter a double-decker bus for a weekend in Vegas. The brunettes ride in the bottom of the bus and the blondes ride on the top level.
The brunettes down below are whooping it up and having a great time when one of them realizes she doesn't hear anything from the blondes upstairs. She decides to go up and investigate. When the brunette reaches the top, she finds all the blondes frozen in fear, staring straight ahead at the road and clutching the seats in front of them.
The brunette says, "What is going on up here? We're having a great time downstairs!"
One of the blondes says, "Yeah, but you've got a driver!"
Thanks Coral, Joe, Nicky and Kyletta and thanks to YOU for stopping by. See you tomorrow with "Some of the Best." Sleep warm.
RM 18/20/2000 Previously unpublished.
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