Meanwhile, At The Courthouse

Meanwhile, at the Courthouse...While conducting some business at the Courthouse, I overheard a lady, who had been arrested for assaulting a Mammogram Technician, say “Your Honor, I’m guilty but….. There were extenuating circumstances.”

The female Judge said, sarcastically, “I’d certainly like to hear those extenuating circumstances.” I did too, so I listened as the lady told her story.

“Your Honour, I had a mammogram appointment, which I actually kept. I was met by this perky little clipboard carrier smiling from ear to ear and she tilted her head to one side and crooned, “Hi! I’m Belinda! All I need you to do is step into this room right here, strip to the waist, then slip on this gown. Everything clear?” I’m thinking, “Belinda, try decaf. This ain’t rocket science.” Belinda then skipped away to prepare the chamber of horrors. With the right side finished, Belinda flipped me (literally) to the left and said, “Hmmmm. Can you stand on your tippy toes and lean in a tad so we can get everything?” Fine, I answered.

I was freezing, bruised, and out of air, so why not use the remaining circulation in my legs and neck to finish me off? My body was in a holding pattern that defied gravity (with my other breast wedged between those two 4 inch pieces of square glass) when I heard and felt a zap! Complete darkness, the power was off!

Belinda said, “Uh-oh, maintenance is working, bet they hit a snag.” Then she headed for the door.

“Excuse me! You’re not leaving me in this vise grip alone are you?” I shouted. Belinda kept going and said, “Oh, you fussy puppy… The door’s wide open so you’ll have the emergency hall lights. I’ll be right back.”

Before I could shout NOOOO! She disappeared. And that’s exactly how Bubba and Earl, “maintenance men Extraordinaire,” found me… standing on my tip-toes, half-naked with part of me dangling from the Jaws of Life and the other part smashed between glass!

After exchanging a polite Hi, how’s it going type greeting, Bubba (or possibly Earl) asked, to my utter disbelief, if I knew the power was off. Trying to disguise my hysteria, I replied with as much calmness as possible, “Uh, yes, I did, but thanks anyway.” “OK, you take care now” Bubba replied and waved good-bye as though I’d been standing in the line at the grocery store.

Two hours later, Belinda breezes in wearing a sheepish grin. making no attempt to suppress her amusement, she said, “Oh I am sooo sorry! The power came back on and I totally forgot about you! And silly me, I went to lunch. Are we upset?”

And that, Your Honour, is exactly how her head ended up between clamps….” The judge could hardly contain her laughter as she said, “Case Dismissed”.

 

Mobility Bigots

Mobility Bigots

What I’m about to say is going to upset quite a few people. Some of them are my friends. Or perhaps, after reading this, my former friends. But I can’t let that stop me from speaking my mind. It’s time to say out loud what I know in my heart to be true. Vegetarians and vegans are mobility bigots. They believe that if a life form doesn’t move, it’s fair game to be killed and eaten.

They hold a deep-seated prejudice against plants, or, as plants prefer to be called, “We Who Stand Still.”

This hateful philosophy is predicated on the idea that movement equals consciousness, or, if you will, a certain level of sacredness. To put it simply, if it walks, flies, or swims, or comes from something that does, it should not be ingested. If it doesn’t, yum-yum.

Of course when you ask vegetarians and vegans, they say no, they’re only opposed to eating flesh. But what could be more fleshy than a mushroom? Or avocado? Or eggplant? The ugly truth is they are cowards who murder and devour anything that can’t run away. These people, who act so high and mighty, so spiritually elevated, have somehow constructed a style of cuisine that would justify them eating my Uncle Murray, a man known for sitting still for hours at a time, staring at a TV that is turned off. So the next time you order a salad consider this: Prince told us that doves cry. But what if kale does too?

 

A Guy Named Penis van Lesbian

A good-looking man walked into an agent’s office in Hollywood and said, “I want to be a movie star.”
Tall, handsome, and with experience on Broadway, he had the right credentials. The agent asked, “What’s your name?”

The guy said, “My name is Penis van Lesbian.”

The agent said, “Sir, I hate to tell you, but in order to get into Hollywood, you are going to have to change your name.”

“I will NOT change my name! The van Lesbian name is centuries old, I will not disrespect my grandfather by changing my name. Not ever.”

The agent said, “Sir, I have worked in Hollywood for years… you will NEVER go far in Hollywood with a name like Penis van Lesbian! I’m telling you, you will HAVE to change your name or I will not be able to represent you.”

“So be it! I guess we will not do business together,” the guy said and he left the agent’s office.

FIVE YEARS LATER….. The agent opens an envelope sent to his office. Inside the envelope is a letter and a check for $50,000. The agent is awe-struck, who would possibly send him $50,000?

He reads the letter enclosed:

Dear Sir,
Five years ago, I came into your office wanting to become an actor in Hollywood; you told me I needed to change my name. You told me I would never make it in Hollywood with a name like Penis van Lesbian.

Determined to make it with my God-given birth name, I refused.

After I left your office, I thought about what you said. I decided you were right. I had to change my name.

I had too much pride to return to your office, so I signed with another agent. I would never have made it without changing my name, so the enclosed check is a token of my appreciation.

Thank you for your advice.
Sincerely,
Dick Van Dyke

Penis van Lesbian
 

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