I went to the bank yesterday to withdraw $10,000.00. The bank teller said to me that I can’t withdraw that much money.
I asked why not.
The teller said that I only have $937 in my account.
I asked what does that matter.
The teller said you can’t withdraw $10,000.00 if you only have $937 in your account.
I said I don’t understand because the government is $34,000,000,000,000.00 in Debt, and it can still take out billions of dollars and give it to other countries even though the government doesn’t have the money.
The bank teller stated that the government can just print more money.
I said ok and left.
I went home and printed this and went back to the bank and gave them this bill and said I wanted all $100’s and two $50’s.
In the past, George was disliked in his class because he never studied, was lazy, and appeared slow-witted. His teacher often lost her temper with him.
One day, George’s mother visited the school and spoke with his teacher, who straightforwardly told her, “Your son doesn’t study, engages in foolish behavior, and his grades are poor. I’ve never seen a lazier student.” Surprised by this revelation, George’s mother decided to withdraw him from school, and they relocated to Springfield.
Twenty-five years later, the former teacher, now residing in Springfield, experienced a severe heart attack. She required a complex surgery, and only one skilled surgeon in Springfield was capable of performing it.
After the surgery, as the teacher regained consciousness, she noticed a handsome surgeon smiling at her. Just as she began to express her gratitude, her face turned blue, and she lost consciousness with her hand raised in the air.
The surgeon was perplexed as he tried to identify the cause of the problem. Then, he witnessed something astonishing.
George, now working as a janitor, had disconnected the respiratory machine to connect his vacuum cleaner.
I’m writing this slow because I know you can’t read fast. We don’t live where we did when you left home. Your dad read in the newspaper that most accidents happen within 20 miles of your home, so we moved. I won’t be able to send you the address, because the last Arkansas family that lived here took the house numbers when they moved, so they wouldn’t have to change their address.
This place is really nice. It even has a washing machine. I’m not sure ’bout it. I put a load of clothes in and pulled the chain. We haven’t seen them since.
The weather isn’t bad here. It only rained twice last week; the first time for three days, and the second time for four days.
About that coat you wanted me to send; your Uncle Billy Bob decided it would be too heavy to send in the mail with the buttons on, so we cut them off and put them in the pockets.
Bubba locked his keys in the car yesterday. We were really worried, because it took him two hours to get me and your father out.
Your sister had a baby this morning, but I haven’t found out what it is yet; so I don’t know if you are an aunt or uncle. The baby looks just like your brother.
Uncle Bobby Ray fell into a whiskey vat last week. Some men tried to pull him out, but he fought them off and drowned. We had him cremated, and he burned for three days.
Three of your friends went off a bridge in a pickup truck. Butch was driving. He rolled down the window and swam to safety. Your other two friends were in the back. They drowned because they couldn’t get the tailgate down.
There isn’t much more news at this time. Nothing much out of the normal has happened.
Some people send newsletters every Christmas to keep friends and family informed as to what happened during the year. Well, this is my version, but it is only about one incident last summer.
We have the standard 6-foot fence in the backyard, and I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire neighborhood.
To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence. Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger that Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8-foot-long ground rod and drove it 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key; the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.
One day, I was cutting the grass in my backyard with my 6-hp mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I had unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it and throw it out of the way. It seems as though I hadn’t remembered to unplug it after all.
Now, I’m standing there, I’ve got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 gigavolt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind, the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside-down cow on fire on the cover. Time stood still. The first thing I notice is my balls trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downward, and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine. It seems as though the fence charger and the POS lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.
Science says you cannot crap and pee at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do both at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along, and you’re all leaned back, and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times. It seemed like there were minutes in between, but in reality they were so close together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Ford turning 8 grand.
At this point, I’m about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire, palm down, so I can’t let go. I grew up near a farm, so I know all about electric fences, but my father always had those POS chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kind of tickled. This I could not let go of. The 8-foot-long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permanently damp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. At this point, I’m thinking I’m going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas.
“Damn!” I think, as I remember, I just filled the tank! Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern, as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop and pee and with my balls on my chest, I thought, “Oh God, please die. Pleeeeze die”. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner’s right foot.
So here I am in the middle of July, 98 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day; he left me there, covered in my own fluids, to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created.
I honestly don’t know how I got loose from the wire. I woke up laying on the ground a while later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later in the day, and I was sunburned. There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long, skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and, in the resulting thrashing, somehow let go of the wire. Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep, I realized a few things:
Three of my teeth seem to have melted.
I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right).
Poop and pee, when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.
My left eye will not open.
My right eye will not close.
The lawnmower runs like a sum ma bitch now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.
My balls are still smaller than average, yet they are almost a foot long.
I can turn on the TV in the family room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (I still don’t understand this). That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow the lawn.
The good news is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him. And THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow.
I originally wrote this in 2005. I thought it was a good time to republish it.
Long ago, in the town of Puzzola, lived a middle-aged man named Earl. Earl was no ordinary fellow; he had a peculiar companion that most adults couldn’t boast of – an imaginary friend named Randy.
Randy had been with Earl ever since he was a child. While most imaginary friends grew up and faded into the annals of memory, Randy had not only stuck around but had developed quite the quirk. He had an uncontrollable flatulence problem, and boy, did he make sure everyone knew it!
On a typical day in Puzzola, Earl strolled through the town square, his imaginary friend by his side. Randy was invisible to everyone except Earl, so passersby couldn’t understand why Earl would randomly burst into laughter or make strange gestures. To them, he looked like the town’s goofball.
Earl and Randy’s adventures were nothing short of hilarious. They visited the local library, where Earl pretended to read serious books, only to burst into fits of giggles every time Randy let out a rip-roaring toot that sounded like a trumpet.
Next, they headed to Puzzola’s quaint café, where they ordered a round of coffee and muffins. Earl couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s invisible antics, like moving chairs or making napkins float through the air, while letting out the loudest, most comical farts.
As they walked through the park, Earl’s laughter became infectious, and soon, a group of kids began to follow them, laughing uproariously without knowing why. Earl and Randy had turned an ordinary day into a sidesplitting comedy show.
The highlight of the day was a visit to the Puzzola Museum of Art. While Earl admired the priceless paintings, Randy took it upon himself to add a touch of absurdity to each exhibit. He made abstract, interpretive “fart art” in the galleries, which left Earl in stitches. When Earl noticed the museum security guards frantically sniffing the air, he couldn’t contain his laughter.
Earl and Randy’s shenanigans were the talk of Puzzola. People couldn’t decide if Earl was a genius comedian or just a little crazy. But everyone agreed that life in the town had become a lot funnier since Randy’s arrival.
However, it wasn’t all fun and games. Earl occasionally had to apologize to serious-minded individuals who were less amused by Randy’s antics. Yet, his infectious laughter and disarming charm won over most people.
As the sun began to set over Puzzola, Earl and Randy found themselves at the local comedy club. The audience was in for a treat, as Earl stepped on stage and introduced his invisible friend. The entire crowd was in stitches, laughing so hard that tears streamed down their faces.
Earl knew that life with an imaginary friend like Randy was far from ordinary. It was a life filled with laughter, joy, and a bit of embarrassment. But in a world where serious matters often dominated, their humorous escapades brought a breath of fresh air, or should we say, a gust of fresh air.
And so, in Puzzola, where normal was overrated, Earl and Randy proved that even adults could have the most unusual, hilarious companions, and that a good laugh could make life a lot better. Even with a little flatulence thrown in for good measure.
Many years later, Earl, at the ripe age of 98, passed away peacefully in his sleep. He left behind a lifetime of laughter and unforgettable memories. But for Randy, life took a poignant turn. With Earl’s departure, Randy was left to live alone in a world where no one could hear his farts, and the world suddenly seemed a little less colorful, a little less fragrant, and a lot less funny.
